#'and dogs?' 'ill bark right back at them'

[hanzajesthanza]

angouleme staying in beauclair with the rest of the company does strike some chord of yearning within me. it's reminiscent of some pleasant childhood memories "back when it was good," (if you're familiar with the sentiment).

of going on a short vacation with family, curious and new to the setting (even if one had been there once before), just looking for fun and totally carefree, no responsibilities... staying in a nice place, to be treated nicely for a while. and lots of free food! (and maybe not, for a while, coming to understand the emotional distress going on behind the curtain)

[fecto-forgo]

partner in crime by madilyn mei.christ.

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie’s sick. you have a little surprise to cheer him up. eddie munson x fem!reader, ~800 words

There’s some kind of bug floating around the garage, and it’s got Eddie sick as a dog.

It’s the second day off he’s taken from work. He’s at home, taking refuge on the couch — since there’s no television in his bedroom — huddled underneath a blanket, watching some mindless daytime program that he can barely focus on.

The front door to his apartment clicks open, and you appear in the entryway, wrapped up in a big overcoat. A large tote bag dangles from your shoulder.

“Hi, baby,” he calls out hoarsely at the highest volume he can manage.

“Hi, Teddy.” You toe your shoes off and leave them by the door, but keep your coat on. You pad over to where he’s laid up on the sofa. “How’re you feeling?” you ask, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead. The smooth swath of skin feels too warm beneath your palm.

“Like shit,” he croaks.

You hum sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

He coughs, and the noise is thick with phlegm. “But better, now that you’re here,” he adds with a weak smile, voice cracking on the last word. You scratch his head lightly with your nails, right behind his ear, just like you would a puppy.

“Here, I brought you some stuff.” You set the bag down on the floor and start pulling out items. “A thermometer, because I know you don’t have one.” You take the it out of its box and stick it in his mouth before he can complain. “Flu medicine, heating pad, VapoRub…chicken noodle soup…” You set a thermos down on the coffee table in front of him. “Dark Crystal on VHS.”

“You’re an angel,” says Eddie. The words are garbled, as he’s speaking from around the glass rod tucked under his tongue. “Thanksch.”

“Wait, wait, I have one more thing.” You start to undo the buttons on your coat, fingers working slowly, dragging the process out. “Seeing as how I’m your caretaker and all, I thought I should dress for the part.” When all the buttons are undone, you shrug the coat off, letting it fall to the floor to pool around your feet.

Eddie’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and the thermometer falls out of his open mouth. “Oh my God.”

The costume is from Halloween three years ago, before you met Eddie, so he’s never seen it before. The nurse uniform is tight and form-fitting, the silky white fabric hugging your body perfectly. It’s also short — the hem sits high up on your thighs, baring a generous amount of leg. For the finishing touch, you pull out a little red nurse’s cap and secure it to your head. “Ta-da! What do you think?”

Eddie thinks he’s going to start barking, that’s what he thinks.

“What do I think?” Eddie struggles to sit upright, propping himself up on his elbow. “Baby. Sweetheart. Angel. You look stunning. You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. You look so sexy, I — I can’t believe that I’m sick and have to keep my hands to myself.” He sounds utterly dismayed as he comes to this realization.

You start laughing. “Aw, I didn’t put it on to torture you. I wanted to cheer you up!”

“Oh, it’s working. Consider me cheered.” He hacks into his elbow briefly, then twirls the air with his index finger. “Gimme a spin, babe.”

You oblige, turning slowly on the spot. His eyes flit wildly up and down your figure, desperate to drink in every inch of you. The ill temper Eddie’s been in for the past two days completely dissipates. He’d wolf-whistle if he wasn’t so full of snot. 

“You know what? I think I’m feeling better already.”

“Hmm. Are you very sure about that?” you ask innocently, leaning forward with your hands braced on your thighs so he can get an eyeful of your chest. “‘Cause I think you could do with a little more tender loving care.”

Eddie shivers, and it has nothing to do with his being sick. “Whatever you say, nurse. You’re the medical professional.”

The corners of your lips turn up in a smile and you straighten back up. “First order of business,” you call over your shoulder as you head over to the kitchen, “eat your soup!” 

You open up the cutlery drawer and pull out a spoon while Eddie twists the lid off of the thermos. A curl of steam wafts up from the warm liquid, and he inhales deeply, excited for the first time in two days to eat something.

You hand him the spoon and sit on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. He slurps the soup down noisily, and you giggle despite your wrinkled nose.

“S’really good, baby. Thanks for doin’ all this.”

“Of course.”

“And as soon as I kick this flu, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

“Ooh, language! Talk like that again and I’ll have to give you a sponge bath.”

Eddie’s eyes gleam with excitement. “Promise?”

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Kinktober Day 5 - Dottore X Reader - Humiliation

 Day 5 – Dottore X Fem Reader – Humiliation

Disclaimer: Very intense humiliation and free use themes. No sex or penetration in this one, just plain humiliation. Thought I’d spice these up once in awhile <3

It was a cold night out as you followed Dottore to a local tavern. The Doctor had a pep in his step, this particular version of him whisking you away from your chores to act as his aid. Whatever that means. “Keep up.” He said, looking back at you and giving a particularly harsh tug to your leash, making you choke and almost trip while walking. “Y-Yes Sir.” You responded meekly, the metal of your collar digging into your skin. With a smirk, the man continued onwards and you made sure to match with his pace so you were right behind him.

When Dottore offered to cure your illness and only asked that you work as his assistant, you couldn’t believe your ears. The offer was too good to be true and you were worried there was a catch but the man kept his word and helped you, making you the healthiest you’ve ever been. No more sleepless nights in pain, no more constant headaches, no more fevers every other day- you could finally live your life.

And of course, you had to keep your end of the bargain as well. Most of your duties involved checking up on his clones and seeing what they’ve been upto, making sure his subjects were well fed and taken care of, recording down notes of his recent experiments, keeping his pen full of ink and replacing his notebooks when needed-

Letting him bend you over the table and fuck his stress out, offering your body to his many clones to have their way with, put a collar on you and drag you along everywhere like a dog and not caring about people staring-

You know. The usual assistant stuff.

Tonight, Dottore (the original one? Atleast, he was the one who first gave you the offer) had a meeting with the owner of the tavern. An exchange of goods of sorts. The tavern head was experimenting with his wine and agreed to help Dottore in spiking it with some kind of potion, Dottore planning to use the drunkards of the bar as his unwilling experimental group.

He opened the door, the bell of top jingling to signal that they had entered. The man behind the bar greeted them, instantly recognising Dottore and his eyebrows shot up when he saw you trail behind him, leash and all. “Welcome, Doctor.” The man said, “Glad you could make it.”

“How could I not?” Dottore asked, sitting on the chair opposite the counter. He hadn’t ordered you to sit, so you continued to stand behind him. “I’ll have a bottle of your finest red wine, my good man.”

“Coming right up.” The bartender said, “And for the Missus?”

Dottore looked at you, his eyes hidden behind his mask but you were confident they were twinkling in mischief, “Can you put some milk in a dog bowl?”

Blood instantly rushed to your face, Dottore’s comments catching the attention of the many regulars in the bar, all of them immediately looking at you. The bartender barked out a laugh, “Lucky for you, I just bought a new dog bowl. A glass of wine and milk, coming up.”

“On your knees.” Dottore ordered, tugging tightly at your leash. You quickly obeyed, kneeling down next to the man and sitting on your heels. More murmurs echoed through the bar as people’s attention was all of you. You in your cute white shirt, turquoise corset and adorable blue booty shorts with knee high boots. It was quite revealing but Dottore liked it on you and so, you wore it.

“Cute little girl you got there.” The bartender said, placing a glass of beautiful red wine on the table in front of the Doctor and a dog bowl filled with milk next to it, “What do you think about lending her to me for a while?”

“Oh, are we talking business already?” Dottore asks, grabbing the bowl before carefully placing it on the floor in front of you, not needing to command you. You should know what to do. With a gulp, body trembling as you tried your best to ignore all the people staring at you, you placed your hands on either side of the bowl before bending down and drinking the milk. You heard Dottore laugh along with the gasps of the people around you, almost choking on your milk as you felt the familiar sensation of a heel pressing gently onto your head. Dottore’s heeled boot was on you, the man stepping on your head as he made sure to keep you bent over.

“If that’s what you want to start with.” The bartender responded, “Not the first time I’ve made dealings with the Fatui. As long as the deal is fair, I’ll do anythin’ ya want.”

“That’s good to hear.” Dottore said as he picked up his glass, taking a sip of the drink before continuing, in a softer tone so the onlookers couldn’t hear him, “But you know exactly what I want from you.”

“That I do.” The man responded, “But it won’t be cheap.”

“I didn’t expect it to be.”

“So, spiking my bottles for a whole month will cost you twenty million mora.” The man said, leaning against the counter so only Dottore could hear him, “and it will cost ya extra if you want me to make that purple powder myself.”

Dottore chucked, “I’ll be proving you with the powder and I’ll pay you ten million.”

“Nah. Twenty million.”

“Ten million and I’ll throw in a few Fatui to act as your bodyguards.” Dottore negotiated, “Doing this will put a target on your back, you know.”

The bartender paused, gnawing at his lower lip before saying: “Ten million, bodyguards and…I get to fuck this pretty puppy of yours.”

You jumped as he said that, close enough to hear their conversations. The milk was empty and you were just waiting for Dottore to get his boot off of your head, but he just pressed it down harder.

“No one fucks her but me.” Dottore said, his tone indicating his annoyance even if the mask covered his eyes.

“Damn, well, then I guess we’re back to square-“

“Eleven Million, bodyguards and I’ll let you watch while I fuck her.”

You shivered, a rush of heat and shame washing through you. “Now why would I just wanna watch?” the bartender said, looking at Dottore like he was foolish.

“Not just you. Everyone in the bar.” The Doctor responded, “They’re already interested in her- why not make a profit? Only those who buy drinks can stay behind and watch. What do you say?”

Your body shivered some more and you could feel your pussy clench underneath your shorts, the action no doubt visible to some of the patrons who grinned widely at the scene. The man behind the bar took a second before a smile formed on his face, a twinkle in his eye as he brought his hand out for Dottore to take, both of them shaking on it.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with ya!”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine~”

~~~

You shivered and mewled at the lewd stared directed your way, some of the patrons already hard in their pants and nothing had really happened yet. Sure, the Doctor had stripped you of your corset and was groping at your tits, your mounds shifting in his touch, but that was all he had done. Sitting in the middle of the bar, perched on top of Dottore’s lap with your legs spread wide open, you tried your best to ignore the large group of men that were now surrounding the two of you in a circle, beyond excited to see what was going to happen.

They got filled in on the situation and a few people left, mostly women and men who were taken but majority of the men stayed behind, refusing to miss this chance. They sat comfortably around you, eyes wide, taking in every second. The door of the tavern was locked and the bartender was pocketing money, his business booming tonight.

“Look at how hungrily they’re looking at you, pet~” Dottore cooed in your ear as he found your nipples under the shirt, his long fingers starting to run circles over them, “You’re making them so horny~”

You didn’t respond, letting out a yelp as the Fatui pinched your buds, squeezing them tightly between thumb and forefinger before pulling them harshly. The men cheered at your sweet cries, their voices louder at the way your breasts bounced back once Dottore let go. He cupped your tits from below and started to jiggle them, the fat of your tits bouncing for everyone’s viewing pleasure. It was so humiliating- so shameless- so hot.

“Unbutton your shirt.” The man ordered as he continued to jiggle your tits, “flash all of these old perverts.”

Knowing better than to argue, you started doing just that. Eyes around you widened and cocks swelled in pants as you revealed your naked chest, not wearing a bra underneath. With a gulp, you shrugged the shirt off of your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the greedy crowd.

“Oh fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Such good fucking tits!”

You mewled at the lewd words thrown your way, your pussy drenching your panties as you shamelessly bared your naked tits to the group of strangers. There were more than ten men leering at you, perhaps close to twenty, all of whom were staring at you with nothing but lust in their eyes. You were briefly distracted as Dottore once again cupped your breasts before jumping them up and down again, this time, the ripple of your flesh all the more delicious. You noticed that a few men were starting to palm themselves over their pants, eyes watering from how they weren’t blinking.

“Your nipples are hard~” The Doctor said, licking at your earlobe before his fingers flicked your sensitive buds, “Are you enjoying this?”

“S’ cold…” you said as an excuse, whining as his gloved hands started to twirl your nipples in circles. Your breasts were so sensitive to his touch- even the lightest of sensations make you feel like your body is burning up. “Oh yeah?” Dottore asked, clearly not convinced as his palms grabbed your breasts, palming them lewdly, “So your pussy won’t be dripping for me?”

“N-No-“

“Hmmm, should we check then? What do you think boys?” Dottore asked, addressing the crowd, “Should I take off these shorts and check if her cunny is drenched?”

A loud cheer echoed through the room, all of the men shouting a deafening yes making your ears turn red. You felt so vulnerable- so bare- so humiliated as everyone celebrated getting to see your pussy. This wasn’t the first time Dottore has showed you off to others, being fucked in front of the Fatui warriors a fairly common occurrence, but this was different. These were random strangers who had nothing to do with the organisation and were just here in the right place at the right time.

“You heard them.” The Doctor said, nuzzling at your neck before giving it a kiss, his hands letting go of your breasts to instead slide down the curve of your hips and towards the hem of your shorts, “Let’s get you naked, pretty puppy~”

“Pussy! Show us that pussy!”

“Tear those slutty shorts off!”

“Spread those legs wide! I wanna see that asshole!”

You gasped as the dirty words thrown your way, lifting your hips up so your master could slide your shorts down. Everyone hooted as your bare legs got revealed, your black thong doing very little to hide your pussy. One of the men grabbed at your discarded shorts and held it up, hooting like he just won a prize.  Deciding to leave your boots on, Dottore grabbed you by the back of your knees before pulling up, making you yelp as your position got slightly changed. You couldn’t help but slap your hands over your eyes as you saw the men move closer to you, some of them so close that you could feel their breath on your cunt. With your body slightly lower and your knees almost pressing your shoulders, Dottore held you wide open for everyone to ogle at. Your thong was wedged between your pussy lips, your puffy cunt practically swallowing the thin fabric and your asshole almost completely visible.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” the Doctor asked, his voice like honey as he took in the scene. It was truly a power trip to watch all these men be so obviously horny for his darling but they couldn’t touch you- couldn’t taste you- couldn’t fuck you. “Take pictures, Gentlemen. It will last longer.”

“Wait- Seriously?”

“Holy fuck! Where’s my Kamera?!”

“Jerk off material for life!”

“Ah-ah! Only if you refill your drinks!”

You looked up at Dottore from your position, peeking between your fingers as the commotion around you increased, everyone buying drinks and scrambling to get their Kamera’s. “I should use you more often.” Dottore said as he looked down at you, “I can convince a lot of perverts to do a lot of bad things just so they can have a taste of your pussy- why didn’t I think of that before?”

He clicked his tongue, annoyed with himself, his mask starting to reflect the flashes of the Kamera’s. Your body twitched every time the shutter went off, the slick from your pussy glistening in the light, something the audience took note of. They moved in closer, their Kamera’s taking countless pictures of you- of your tits, your pussy and your ass. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what they would do with said pictures but knowing Dottore, if they ever got circulated, he’d find a way to monetise it for himself.

“Come on, pet.” He said, his hand sliding between your legs and giving your pussy a few pats, the impact wet and filthy, “Do you want them to see more?”

“Wh-huh?”

“Beg for it.” He explained, “Say: ‘Everyone, please take a good long look at my wet, nasty cunny~’”

“B-But-“ you sputtered, blood rushing to your face so fast it made you feel dizzy, “That’s so- I-“

Dottore raised his hand and gave your pussy a sharp slap, making you yelp out in pain. “Did you say something?” he asked, daring you to protest.

“E-Everyone!” You said, tears in your eyes from the pain and from the humiliation, your ears ringing and your heart hammering so loudly in your chest, you wondered if they could hear it, “P-Please take a g-good long look at m-my w-w-wet, nasty c-cunny!”

“Fuck yeah!!” The crowd cheered, some of them getting your words on video. You were so focused on Dottore and his touch that you failed to notice just how riled up the audience was. Most of them had their cocks out and more than half of them were jerking off, their pleasure filled expressions hidden behind their Kamera’s. You gulped down the saliva in your mouth, your body having been trained well enough that you’d drool when there were hard dicks around- cocks that were eager to fuck you. The slick sound of the strangers sliding their hand up and down their members echoed through the air, their dirty panting somehow turning you on more than their dirty words.

“Let’s show them this pussy, hmm? This pussy that belongs to me~” Dottore growled before his fingers clutched at the hem of your thong and pulled so harshly, he ripped the thin fabric to shreds. Drinks were poured and cheers erupted as the blue haired man tossed aside the remains of your underwear, leaving you truly and completely naked. You gasped, tossing your head back against him as the flashes and clicks of the Kamera increased, your brain getting overstimulated. You felt Dottore’s fingers on your cunt, his gloved hand going up and down your pussy lips, collecting the slick before giving it a nice pat pat pat. The sticky sound of your cunt was barely audible over everything else, especially of the men who started to jerk off with more vigour.

“Take a good look, Gentlemen.” Dottore said, his fingers suddenly spreading your pussy lips apart, showing off every nook and cranny of your cunt, ignoring your cry, “the most perfect pussy in the World~”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Might be weird to ask but petplay? I just think certain COD men *cough cough* soap *cough cough* would be esp good as dumb puppies y'know?

COD petplay headcanons

Little do you know anon, I enjoy petplay, so this is no weird question at all. And you are so right. Petplay COD be upon ye.

Ill be going on holiday all of next week, so if you guys are fine with shorter replies i can write some on my phone, let me know what you think.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap is such a good pup, kind of a brat sometimes but its because he wants your attention. You’ll catch him crawling around with your clothes in his mouth or half crawled under the kitchen table, his lower body still sticking out as he chews on something he shouldn’t be chewing on.

Whines loudly and paws at your leg for attention any time you aren’t paying attention to him. Can’t you see how good he’s being? How tempted his tummy is when he rolls onto his back? Don’t you wanna rub it?

The type to crawl around in a jockstrap, a harness, a collar, a puphood and pup gloves. Don’t forget the plug with a tail attached so he can wag so prettily for you, or so it can wag all over the place when he’s feeling playful.

Sadly, you’ll have to punish the poor pup on the regular, he makes a mess and can’t keep himself from humping your leg or crawling onto the furniture to lick and bite at you. Its not unusual to find him humping pillows in your bedroom, whining for you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Hes more calm than the others, but don’t expect that means he’s less of a troublemaker. Will steal your keys or your clothes and hide them under the bed, or under his dog bed so that you can’t leave. Will chew on your belts and throw your laundry all over the place.

A whiner too, has this warbled pathetic sounding whine he lets out when you tell him to stay still and quiet so you can work, but settles down if hes allowed to wrap around your feet. It always ends up with him chewing or licking your ankles though.

Wears a getup similar to Soap, with the jockstrap, harness, hood and gloves. Likes how it makes him dependent on you as his master to take care of him. Sometimes he just gets home from a mission, puts on his hood, and lays down with his head in your lap to calm down from the day.

Tries to be more sneaky when he’s horny, like subtly grinding into the floor or his dog bed, or sitting down and wiggling in his spot so he can move his plug around inside him. You always catch him though, since he starts that warbly whine when he gets close but can’t finish without you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The most well-behaved pup, think like a well-trained military dog. Always standing straight on all fours, back straight, head lifted, and chest puffed out. He soaks up any praise you give him with a gruff bark and a small wag.

Doesn’t regularly whine, is more of a barker or growler. He growls the most if there are other pups around that try to get close to you or play with him, as he’s always standing on guard in front of you. You always have to muzzle him around other pups cuz Ghost does nip at times, especially when other pups are acting up and he needs to correct their behavior.

Tends to do play either fully dressed in his military gear, just a tail strapped to his belt and a customized hood with his skull paint. Or fully naked, only wearing maybe a harness, a spikey collar, his hood, his tail, and a cockcage unless you need it off.

If Ghost is in the mood, you’ll invite other pups over (unless you are poly and have multiple partners who are pups) and Ghost will assert himself as the alpha amongst them. This is where you take the cage off him so he can push down the other pups and take them. He will always arch his back for you though, or roll onto his back and spread his legs with a tiny barely audible whine for you.

Gary “Roach” Sanderson

A very quiet pup and doesn’t act up much, tends to be more on the chill side. Hes even allowed in the furniture since he wont mess it up like others, and likes to curl up beside you with his head in your lap.

When hes feeling it though, like if you’ve been apart for a while, he might start growing antsy. Crawling around in front of you or sitting right by your feet and letting out tiny barely audible whines. It always ends up with him pawing at your knee and looking at you with the most lethal puppy eyes ever.

Doesn’t wear as much gear at the others, I don’t think he would enjoy the gloves that make his hands unusable, and the hood might feel too restrictive to him. Instead hed just resort to walking on his knuckles, wearing a headband with ears, and maybe wearing a belt with a tail on top of his boxers.

A licker, he doesn’t say much, but you will know he’s truly in the mood when he starts licking you all over. Licking at your hands, your legs, your torso, slobbering all over your pants and crotch until you open your belt and give him what he wants.

Phillip Graves

Another troublemaking pup, a brat. Rips up pillows and gnaws on your belts and wallet. The type you have to play tug of war with for your belt as he growls and yips, wagging his tail and drooling on the floor.

The kinda pup you’ll have to spank and punish in other ways, not out of this world to put him in a cockcage or crate for the night if he’s acted out way too much. He enjoys it very much though, so it’s nothing he hasn’t asked for himself. Graves has probably come up with some of the punishments himself.

Hes fully geared up, hood, gloves, tail and all, except he wouldn’t wear a jockstrap, just fully naked expect for the pup parts. Hes not always wearing a cage as its only for punishment, so you can catch him grinding against stuff sometimes.

The most effective punishment for him is overstimulation, laying him across your lap and jerking him off until he’s whining and writhing and shaking, where after you’ll let him cuddle against your chest after cleaning him up, praising him and giving him good aftercare.

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 1)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Later’s better than never… right?

Ten years ago, Simon and you met at the same therapeutic boarding school. You fought, he said some shit, he left. He thought he’d never see you again.

Until one day, a hospital calls and informs him that you’ve listed him as your emergency contact.

(title from the song by Lana Del Rey)

-

Tags: mental illness, abuse, addiction, self harm, suicidality/suicidal ideation/suicide attempts, angsty shit in general, Ghost being very mean as a fucked up 17 year old boy

There’s an old battered flip phone he hides in the back of his locker wherever he’s deployed. Ghost doesn’t turn it on all that often. Everyone who knows the number is dead.

But sometimes he does, just to stare at the contacts and click through the photos and remember what it was like to talk to them.

Today is one of those days.

He can only take so much talk from his team about families, friends, dogs waiting back home, and pretty girls before feeling the urge to break things.

So he excuses himself to hide in the bathroom like a fucking pussy and takes the phone with him. Simon can pretend he’s waiting for his own phone call from people who love him for a few minutes. Then he promises himself that he’ll put it away and not touch it for another six months.

It takes forever to power on. It’s still janky from the last time Ghost threw it at a wall, it seems.

One (1) missed call.

…What?

They left a voicemail.

His fingers shake as he listens to it.

There’s a long, tinny beep. “Hi, Mr. Riley, I’m…” A woman says in a rushed, businesslike manner. “I’m one of the nurses at-“ Ghost hears a bustle of background noise; faint murmurs, emergency sirens, doors sliding open and shut. “…Hospital. I’m calling because a friend of yours,” The nurse says your name. A name he hasn’t thought about in years. “…Put you down as her emergency contact when we admitted her to our psychiatric inpatient ward. Unfortunately, she did not provide us with anyone else. Please give me a call back at this number if you’d like to speak with her.” Click.

Ghost starts packing an overnight bag before he even realizes it.

Then he’s on a plane.

-

TEN YEARS AGO

“I hate you.”

You’re crying as you run after him in the forest. He speeds up, trying to lose you in the trees. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Simon. I’ll never bring it up again.” Snot covers your upper lip and your eyes are bright with tears.

He hates this fucking place. He hates this fucking school, the kilometers of wilderness separating him from his life because the fucking shrinks think he’s crazy. He hates you for trying to keep him here.

And just when Simon was about to fly the coop, you spilled the beans. “Leave me the fuck alone. Never, ever, ever talk to me again,” He barks, stopping abruptly and turning to loom over you.

When you reach for his hand, he slaps you away. “But you promised you wouldn’t leave-“ You end up on the ground, the pine needles biting into your bare knees as if Simon shoved you.

That makes him angrier. You’re too soft for a world like this. You’re practically begging for someone to hurt you again, someone like him, with your vulnerability and open, bleeding heart. Well, he’ll fucking oblige. You’re not strong like you think you are. You’re the weakest person he knows, and weakness is something Simon could never respect.

“I lied. I fucking lied, you dumb bitch. Didn’t you realize it?” Simon snarls, wishing desperately he’d never let you befriend him on his first day at this therapeutic program.

You're sunshine and innocence and friendship bracelets, the kind of girl who will always be a victim because this world devours little girls like you. Simon is nothing like you. Simon is a survivor. A warrior. Simon is steel where you are china.

Your American accent is almost as unbearable as your pathetic weeping. “…What?” Your bottom lip wobbles.

Hopefully this will teach you a lesson about tattling. Nobody likes a snitch. “Forever doesn’t fucking exist. You were the only tolerable person in this shithole, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to be friends forever. What are you, a fucking infant? God, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass.” If anything, Simon is letting you off easy. You told the counselor things Simon told you in confidence about his dad because you were ‘afraid for his safety.’

But you just don’t get it. Simon can’t spend another day here. And the longer he stays, the angrier his dad will get. You just earned him another week of shit and black eyes.

“Newsflash. People lie. Everyone’s been lying to you. Nobody likes you, not even your mum. And I can’t stand you. You were useful, but I don’t need you anymore. I’m better,” Simon hisses as cruelly as he can, using every blade in his arsenal to cut at the sensitive parts of you where he knows you’ll bleed. Just like you did when you told.

You’re only stuck in this place because your mum left you here. You don’t have anyone, not like he does. He has Tommy and his mum. He has a future. You’ve got absolutely fucking nothing.

“I was just trying to help.”

“I’m getting out of here. I don’t need your help. I’d tell you to keep it, but it wouldn’t even help you.” Simon pauses. You’ve stopped crying. Good. A crying fox is easy prey for the hunting dogs. “They won't believe you. And you wanna know why?” It feels good to be the hunter instead of the fox for once. You make excellent prey.

“‘Cause I told them the truth. That you’re an obsessed freak who’s hyper fixated on me and you’d do anything to keep me here. That you’re a sick, compulsive liar and that you’re the one who’s a danger to herself, not me.”

You fall silent. Finally, blessed silence. You look up at Simon with glazed eyes and a still tongue. He feels better. Good, even.

“Goodbye. I hope I never see you again,” Simon says flatly.

-

TODAY

You picked a good place to get yourself locked up in. This is one of the nicest hospitals Ghost has been in recently. Shiny floors, no dirt caking the walls. New York City puts Kabul and Moscow to shame.

He’s wearing a plain black balaclava. Nothing identifying or particularly memorable. This is going to be a short visit. Ghost will see what you want and then leave. That’s it.

You look tired, exhausted to the very bone.

None of the shiny pinkness that drew Ghost to you in the beginning when you were fifteen and he was seventeen. None of the glow, the round cheeks, the wide doe eyes.

There’s dark circles chiseled into your face, so dark he almost thinks they’re bruises. A couple of IV bags run through a drip hidden under bandages covering your arms from wrist to elbow. Your eyes are as quiet as you are. A couple of marbles would be more lively. You look almost like a doll forgotten in a corner.

The nurse gave Ghost the run-down as she guided him to your bed. Police picked you up on a bridge trying to off yourself. Your fifth time this year. Unless you show some real improvement, the doctors will recommend an indefinite hospitalization.

You’ve been busy in the decade of his absence. Multiple addictions, more attempts than he can count, and some small stints in jail. A list of disorders he wouldn’t know how to pronounce. And nobody left to call.

Is this his fault?

When Ghost rounds the corner, you smile like he should be proud of you. “You came,” You say.

I have absolutely no business starting a new fic. Absolutely none. Idk. I have brainrot. No clue when this will be updated. But here, have it.

[amakumos]

haru yo, koi — yang jungwon (teaser)

full fic is out now! read here.

synopsis. Life is fragile. You’ve known this ever since you got diagnosed with a rare disease that gives you only 10 years to live. You tell yourself to not fall in love, but then you meet Yang Jungwon in the middle of a park surrounded by cherry blossom trees. But just like the fleetingness of the cherry blossoms, your romance with Jungwon is short lived. You can only hope that the universe will be kind enough to offer you a second chance.

genre. angst, fluff, friends to lovers to ?, inspired by the movie the last 10 years.

pairing. non-idol! jungwon x fem! reader

warnings. swearing, reader and jungwon are 22 at the beginning of the fic, mentions of death, hospital, illness & disease, scenes where drinking is involved

word count. est around 30k+ (teaser is approx 1.4k)

author's note. hellohello : ) this is the teaser for the longest every fic i have ever written!!! that’s so crazy!!!! the title is of course inspired by yuzuru hanyu’s program “haru yo, koi” :) i hope u guys enjoy this small little teaser of the full thing & if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just send in an ask !!

Cherry blossoms are known for their existence to be short-lived. They symbolise transience, ephemerality. They fall to the pavement as quickly as they bloom.

Just like the cherry blossoms, your existence will be short-lived. You’re running on borrowed time, and you don’t know when that time will run out. 

Every breath you take could be your last. 

There is a peaceful quietness as you wander around the park, admiring the vibrant pink hues of the flowers in full bloom. The faint smell of the cherry blossoms waft through the air, and you watch as some of the petals fall to the pavement. 

The quietness is interrupted by a dog bark. A white dog runs up to you, and you look at it, startled and confused. Suddenly, a boy who looks around your age runs up to you. 

“I am so sorry about Maeumi,” he says, attaching the leash back onto his dog. “He’s a little energetic sometimes.” 

You look at the boy, and something about him feels familiar. Those eyes – you’d recognise them anywhere. 

It’s Yang Jungwon, an old classmate of yours. He was the head of the student council during your time at the school, and you remember him even though you weren’t exactly there much due to your illness. But Jungwon was always a kind person, helping out anyone in need. He was friendly, and popular. You knew that many people had a crush on him, including your friend Minji.

“Wait a minute,” Jungwon’s eyes narrow suddenly. Something seems to click, and he gasps. “You’re (Name), right? We were in the same class in high school.” 

You’re surprised that even with all his busy duties in high school and with you constantly being away at the hospital, Yang Jungwon still remembers you.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, a small smile on your lips. “I’m surprised you remember who I am.”

“Of course I’d remember you!” Jungwon’s eyes seem to twinkle as he says the words. “We worked together on a project for biology once. Do you remember me?” 

You chuckle. “Of course. Yang Jungwon. Head of the student council.” 

Jungwon smiles. “Yeah. That’s me.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence where you and Jungwon just look at each other, small smiles on both of your faces. Maeumi sits patiently as a few of the cherry blossom petals land on his fur. 

“So… what have you been up to?” Jungwon asks you, looking genuinely interested. How are you supposed to respond to that? Because really, you’re not going to just tell him that what you’ve been up to is… hospital. 

“Um… work. Got a job,” you lie, nodding. “What about you?” 

“I’m a lawyer now,” Jungwon replies, and you smile. “Law. It suits you.” 

“Huh. Everyone tells me that,” Jungwon runs his fingers through his hair to make it a little neater. “So… what do you do at work?” 

“Writing. I… write.” Well, that wasn’t a complete lie. You do write, just… not for work. You’ve only been working on one thing ever since you got your diagnosis — it’s something akin to a diary, recounting your journey through the last 10 years of your life.

Maybe you’ll get to see it published before you’re gone.

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Jungwon beams. “I know your writing’s great. You wrote for the school newspaper, right?” 

It seems like Yang Jungwon remembers a lot about you. You wrote occasionally for the school newspaper when you were well enough to actually write. You’re surprised he remembers that, and you’re quite surprised that he actually read the school newspaper — you thought that with his busy schedule, he wouldn’t have had the time to.

“I did. You have a good memory.” 

“Thank you.” Jungwon cracks a smile. The boy looks at the cherry blossom trees, before returning his focus onto you. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?” he asks, and you nod.

“I like the colours.” you say, quietly.

“Me too.” 

“(Name), Soobin just got an emergency at the hospital, so he’s had to leave– oh!” Chaewon suddenly appears out of nowhere, startling both you and Jungwon. “Sorry, I didn’t know that you were talking to someone.” 

“Oh, it’s okay.” you tell your sister, who looks at you, then looks at Jungwon, then looks at you again. “Was I interrupting something?” she asks, with a small smile on her lips. 

“We were just looking at the cherry blossoms.” Jungwon pipes up. “I’m Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Chaewon,” your sister says. “Do you know my sister?”

“We went to high school together,” you tell her. “Jungwon was the head of the student council. I’m actually quite surprised he still remembers me, considering how… you know.” 

“Yes. I know.” 

Jungwon doesn’t know exactly what you and Chaewon are talking about, but it seems personal — and he wouldn’t want to pry. And, you keep mentioning how you’re extremely shocked at the fact that Jungwon seems to remember you.

But, why wouldn’t Jungwon remember his first crush? 

Something about you intrigued Jungwon the moment you stepped into the classroom for the first time. It was seventh grade, and you had walked into the room with a small smile on your lips. Jungwon remembers you catching his attention instantly. 

You two were partnered together for a project, and you both had quite a few pleasant conversations while working on the assignment. Jungwon remembers walking home with a giddy smile on his lips after he had gone to your house. 

But gradually, you started to disappear. 

Throughout high school, Jungwon tried to talk to you as much as he could. Problem was, you were almost never at school, and when you were at school, Jungwon always seemed to be busy.

So Jungwon was never able to get closer to you. He couldn’t get to know you better, or find out why he found himself gravitating towards you. 

You didn’t even show up for graduation. 

The last time Jungwon remembers seeing you was in class one day. You were wrapped in a puffer jacket, a hand warmer in your hands. You looked pale. Jungwon assumed that you might’ve gotten a cold.

He didn’t know that you were sick. He still doesn’t know that you’re sick. Nobody from high school knows, with the exception of Minji and Wonyoung. 

He just assumed you were always busy with out of school activities. But he never forgot about you. 

“Oh, that reminds me. Ricky’s hosting a reunion party next week for our year? We’d love for you to come.” Jungwon says, and Chaewon nudges you gently. “You should go,” your sister whispers to you.

“Oh, I… I don’t know. I don’t think people there will really remember me.” you murmur, and Jungwon shakes his head. “No, they will! Just come along. Here, I’ll give you my number, since Ricky’s still making decisions on which restaurant he’s booking. I’ll text you the details.” 

You type in Jungwon’s number into your phone slowly, saving his contact. “It was really nice seeing you again. What a coincidence, right?” he beams.

“It was nice seeing you again too, Jungwon. I’ll… let you know if I go.” 

“I’ve got to run along now, a friend of mine’s waiting for me.” Jungwon says, a small pout on his lips. “But yeah, text me! I’ll talk to you soon.” 

“See you around, Jungwon.” you say softly, and the boy gives you one last big smile before turning around to leave. Chaewon looks at you with a wide grin on her lips. “Come on, you should go!” 

“I don’t know,” you say hesitantly. You’re not even sure if people remember you. Or know you at all. You attended school less than 20 times in your last year — to be completely honest, even you found it strange that you graduated. “What if people are like ‘who are you?’ It would make things really awkward.” 

“So? Jungwon knows you. Invite Minji and Wonyoung. There, you know four people. Come on, (Name). You should live your life to the fullest.” 

As you’re nearing the end of the 10 years that the doctor has given you, you decide that perhaps Chaewon is right. You’ve spent years wallowing in self-pity, spending all your days at home when you could’ve been spending time doing things that you’ve always wanted to do. See people you never thought you’d see again. Go to places that you’ve always wanted to go to.

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll go.” 

And as a pink cherry blossom petal brushes against your cheek, you return home with Chaewon by your side, and the thought of Yang Jungwon in the back of your mind.

[a-strange-echo]

Flufftober Day: "4+1"

Pairing: Sirius Black x animagus!Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: 4 times the marauders saw a big white dog plus the time they "adopted" it.

Word count: 1 282

Warnings: none, just fluff

Author's note: English is not my first langage, so please be mindful. Also, do not hesitate to tell me if there is any mistakes, i'll rectify it.

Author's feelings: I like the begining, i like the ending less. i might try to re-write it once the flufftober is over.

(Image found on google, credits to the original artist)

The first time the marauders met the dog was during a full moon. They were out during the night to go to the Shrieking Shack but Remus’ transformation appeared earlier and he shifted in the middle of the woods. It was a very difficult full moon that night, the three other men struggled to keep the wolf in the forest and not wandering outside towards the school or the villages. Peter had yet to transform, he was scared of the wolf he had to admit. It was comprehensible, when a full grown were-wolf is charging at you, you either run and die or are paralysed by fear and die. Luckily, a bark that didn’t sound like Sirius’ pulled him out of his paralysis just in time for him to shift in his rat form and dodge the wolf’s paw swing. It was now that a big white dog came out of nowhere, took Wormtail in its mouth and ran probably the fastest it could away from the wolf. The rat squeaked when he felt the teeth around his smaller form but realized the dog was still mindful to not squeeze too tight to hurt him. The dog finally released the rat a few meters away from the wolf who fortunately didn’t chase after them. Sirius went to check on his friend scared the dog was ill-intentioned but found it gently releasing the small animal and booped it with its nose as if to ask if he was alright.

After this, the unfamiliar dog ended up helping them during the whole duration of the full moon’s effect on Remus. The dog left before the sun rise, much to Sirius’ chagrin who would have liked to spend more time with a fellow dog.

“Mate, stop mopping, you’ll meet this dog again.” James tried to cheer him up later the next with a slap on the shoulder.

And he did meet the dog again. Around a month later. It was snowing heavily on the ground of Hogwarts and the marauders decided to have some fun and pull pranks in the snow when, at some point, Sirius heard a bark in the distance. He turned to his friends who heard it as well and, when they nodded, he sprinted to a secluded era and shifted in a dog, following a scent in the snow to find a white dog, the same white dog, playing in the snow as well. It was playfully growling and biting the snow when he arrived. He approached carefully when the other dog noticed his presence, head low but tail wagging gently to show he wanted to play. The white dog got into a play stance, head on the ground, butt in the air, tail wagging left and right and Sirius mimicked. The other dog jumped at him, biting his ear playfully and the two dogs started to play-fight. It lasted a while, until the two dogs were lying on the ground, paws in the air and tongues lolling out of their mouths. Sirius wondered if he should risk his new dog friendship and decided to roll on his side and shift back in his human form once the dog was looking at him. He saw the momentary shock on the dog’s face before he was the one surprised when the white dog also shifted to a human form. What was his surprise to see, in the place the dog once was lying in, the cute Hufflepuff he talked and joked with when they walked into each other in the hallways. They laughed it off and continued to lay on the ground for a while again, this time as humans, talking and laughing with each other.

“Shift back.” they had asked at some point.

Sirius was confused but obliged, seeing them do the same short after. The white dog slapped its paw on Sirius’ side, leaving snow paw print on the black fur. The dog then booped its nose against the side of his muzzle before leaving, strutting happily and disappearing behind the castle. Sirius was sure in this instant they had just flirted with him and quite literally marked him as theirs. At least, it was what he now firmly believed as he returned to his friends, doing a show of parading with the paw print in front of them. Today he did not just win a never ending list of teasing puns, he also got a situation-ship with another animagus, and by the little show he did, earned them a new nickname: “Snowpaw”.

The third time the marauders saw the white dog, was one evening when they were all in their dorm room. Well everyone except Sirius who claimed had some business he needed to do. So when James saw by the window his friend, in his dog form, running towards the lake where the white dog was waiting for him, he gasped dramatically. The noise attracted the other two boys who where quick to gather at the window to see a black dog and a white one sitting by each other on the lake shore, their tails on top of the other’s.

“-He didn’t tell us he had a date!” James voice was so high pitched with excitement, it could shatter glass.

“-Probably because he knows we will tease him for having a date with a dog.” Remus deadpanned.

“-I am the only one who realized this dog acts like Padfoot? Maybe its an animagus too.” Peter suggested, leaving the two other stunned. “I’m just saying.”

The last time they saw this, now, familiar dog was when Sirius dragged his three friend out of their shared room one day. It had taken some time for Sirius to convince Y/N to meet his friends. They were important to him and he wanted his lover and his friends to get together. However, Y/N wanted to take things slow, after all they only had been dating for a little over 3 weeks now and didn’t feel ready to talk to Sirius’ friends by fear of saying something to upset them. Even if Sirius reassured multiple times that they couldn’t say anything to upset them, Y/N was still adamant. So settle on meeting the friends in their animagi forms. When James, Remus and Peter got to where Y/N and Sirius were waiting for them, they were confused to see the white dog and Sirius waiting by its side in his human form. He quickly explained the situation and soon, his friends smiled wide, shifting into their animagi except for Remus who couldn’t but he was happy to just sit in the grass and enjoy the company of his friends.

It took Y/N some time to announce to Sirius’ friends who they were and that they were dating him, but they didn’t regretted it. It was nice to be part of a group now and to have someone who shares the same experiences as you. The relationship lasted long, very long, even after Hogwarts. It wasn’t a surprise when James took the mic at Sirius and Y/N’s wedding, doing his best man’s speech.

“-I have to say, I still feel betrayed that you didn’t tell me first you were dating someone, Sirius. I expected better from you.” he shook his head in disappointment. “Y/N I am very happy to have you, officially, in the family. Is this an adoption? It’s an adoption right?” people laughed at that, included the married couple.

“-You can count it as such, if you want, James.” Y/N went along.

“-Good. We are waiting for puppies now.” He said last then took his place back behind Sirius who had a hard time controlling his blush and laughter.

[thevirginwitch]

City Magic: Painted Rock Wards

This post was released a week early over on my Patreon! You can subscribe for free to be notified of important projects announcements, or subscribe for as little as $2 a month to gain early access to my content, exclusive access to research/reading notes, and free digital goodies! Your support means the world to me and helps me to continue doing what I love.

We’ve all seen those pretty painted rocks over on Pinterest, right? These bad boys? Or perhaps you’ve even seen them around your neighborhood/public parks.

Traditionally, these are meant to be painted (sometimes with words of encouragement) and left in public spaces for people to take home, as an act of kindness. Some others paint them for their garden, either to deter pests with vibrant colors, or they’re used to label whatever’s in their garden.

Now, if you live in a big city, you probably have felt a disconnect from your craft or your practice. It’s difficult to connect with a nature-oriented spirituality, such as witchcraft, when you live in a concrete jungle! But there are many, many ways to feel connected to your craft, even if you don’t live in the middle of the woods or have a lot of nature around you. One of these ways is to connect with your neighborhood.

Your neighborhood has mass significance to your life, whether you realize it or not: this is where you live, where you work, where you breathe, where you practice your craft – you must make yourself known, and make the neighborhood known to yourself as well. One of the best ways to do this is to take walks!

Whenever you’re ready, take a walk through your neighborhood and bring a map, notebook, and a pen. As you walk, observe the behaviors of the residents around you. Do they seem to be struggling with anything? What kind of people are they like? Write these characteristics down. If you notice any parts of your neighborhood that evoke any specific emotions (such as unease, happiness, peace, or anxiety), mark them on your map. You might also notice some “problem areas” – perhaps some patches of the road or sidewalk are horribly paved and need to be repaired, or there’s a lot of loud dogs constantly barking at the end of your block. Mark these areas on your map as well, and report back to your home when you are ready.

Picking Your Purpose

Now that we’ve identified a few “problems” and made observations within your neighborhood, we can decide what we want to do. Do you want to protect against thieves? Ward against illness for one of your elderly neighbors? This is the time to select the primary purpose for your ward.

Picking The Area

Take the map that you marked up during your walk. Connect any common points you see (for example, connect up the "peaceful" areas you marked on your map, or connect any points that have a common theme). What kind of shape does it have? Does it remind you of any popular symbols? Can you use the general shape of the area to generate a sigil or symbol that represents the area? What area(s) would most benefit from your rock wards?

Here is an example of how I created a sigil from a fictional city map I found! Obviously, play around with this idea until it makes sense to you. You can connect up different routes, or perhaps create a border around the areas that feel safest to you.

Now is the time you also want to pick where you want to place your wards - you can use your neighborhood sigil to influence where you place them, or, place them based on intuition or based on need. For example, placing a rock ward at the end of the noisiest block, or in the middle of the block that has the most number of children in the area.

Creating and Using Your Sigils/Symbols

Now, you want to develop symbols or sigils for your purpose. You can use any method you’d like! You may wish to incorporate your neighborhood sigil into each one you create, but ultimately the design is up to you. This is also the point where you would “charge” your sigil, with whatever method you see fit - as long as the design, intention, and charging method makes sense to you, that’s all that matters!

Painting Your Rocks

Finally, onto the fun part!

Now, you could simply paint your sigils on your rock and call it a day. Or, you could paint your sigil, and layer a more “mundane” piece of artwork on top of the sigil, leaving the sigil hidden underneath. This technique works best if the “mundane” artwork connects with the ward’s purpose in some way (for example, if your ward is for protection against nosy neighbors, you could paint eyes; or if your ward is for health, you could paint green colors, or even a red cross). I definitely recommend this “layering” method of painting your rocks so no one in your neighborhood ends up reporting any “suspicious looking rocks” with “satanic symbols” on them to your local Facebook groups!

Materials

acrylic paint

rocks

paint brushes

toothpicks (optional)

paint markers

outdoor/water-proof sealant such as Mod Podge: Outdoor

Instructions

Lay out your rocks and other materials

Seal your rocks with a coat or two of your sealant before you begin painting. This is an important step, since rocks are porous and will suck up any paint you try to apply!

Paint your rocks to your heart's content! If you are layering paint on your rocks, please make sure each layer is dry before painting the next.

Once your rocks are completely dry, seal them up with your outdoor/water-proof sealant so they don't get damaged in the elements.

Lastly, take another trip through your neighborhood to place your rocks. Converse with the neighbors if you feel inclined, and make double-sure of the locations you chose for your wards. I recommend taking regular walks throughout your neighborhood to check on these wards, and make sure they’re doing their job. You may wish to refresh the wards with a new coat of paint, or replace them with something new if the situations within the neighborhood change.

Ultimately, magic is what you make it, especially when you live in a big city. Warding your neighborhood and showing care for the people that live there is one of the many ways you can connect to your neighborhood on a deeper level and feel more connected to your practice locally.

Recommended further reading: Urban Magick by Diana Rajchel

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit Part Two ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two, three

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst, explicit smut, 'daddy' and 'babygirl' petnames, light spanking, heated physical domestic argument

x x x

Jake shot me a text as soon as he touched down in his hotel, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of our little gathering solo. I silently cleaned up the traces of the night, letting my thoughts swirl in the quiet aftermath. Shouldn't I be on cloud nine? Chris, I assumed, had already landed by now, maybe snagging his stuff from the baggage claim. Why the resistance to me picking him up? Couldn't he save some cash and avoid those Uber headaches? As I mulled over Jake's words from our earlier chat, a wave of guilt washed over me. If someone messed with my career, I'd probably cut ties too. 

But did it have to be face-to-face? 

Suddenly, two knocks jarred me, throwing my dogs into their usual frenzy of barks. Now? It felt too soon, like breaking a speed record from airport to doorstep, factoring in landing, baggage, and Uber waits. My motion light, unnoticed until now, flickered on as I was lost in thought. My palms got a little clammy as I fished out my phone, checking for messages from a friend dropping by. But all my friends were back in my hometown. 

Unscheduled visits are a rarity out here, that’s part of the reason why I picked such an isolated home. 

Scrolling through my phone, the doorbell rang out, setting my pets into a louder commotion. Activating the security camera app, I saw Chris on the screen—dark hoodie, black beanie, and chill gray sweats. Hands in his pockets, a visible exhale, like he'd been holding his breath. Just one piece of luggage, small enough to be a carryon. Skipping baggage claim altogether, I guessed. 

Maybe he didn't want to risk airport paparazzi, but at this hour, it'd be a ghost town anyway. 

I unlocked the door, slower than planned, giving it a cautious swing open. Stepping back, I left room for him to enter, the question of how to react buzzing in my head. Hug him? Kiss him? Do a little happy dance? God this is awkward. Chris sniffed, a hint of red on his nose, and began shedding his shoes and beanie, shaking out his curly hair. He looked wiped, but it had been ages since I'd seen him without the makeup mask.    His eyes told the tale of tiredness, the faint shadow under barely-there brows, and the shifts in his skin tone—all untouched by the glam squad. Even a touch of facial hair peeked through, a secret sign of the real guy behind the polished pretty boy image, something he religiously stayed on top of. All the things that make him very human.  The things not many people get to see. 

"What changed?" I threw the question at him, arms crossed in the entryway. Our eyes connected for the first time since he rolled in. I caught a flicker in his right eye, a giveaway of stress and insomnia. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, a nervous move, just enough to reveal a hint of his dimple near his mouth's corner. 

Undeterred, I pressed on, "Channie—" 

His eyebrows pulled together instinctively, a tough look in his eyes. "Don't call me that," he shot back, a stern expression etched on his face. 

Frustration bubbled up, my voice amped up involuntarily, control slipping away. 

"What the fuck is your problem? What? Did you catch a red-eye just to come argue with me?" 

"Yes! I caught a red-eye fucking flight to—"    Chris cut himself off mid-sentence, sucking in air sharply through his teeth, muttering something under his breath in Korean. He ran his hand down his face, eyes closed, releasing a breath before locking eyes with me again. The anger lingered, but it was transforming into something I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

I could feel hot tears threatening, but I held them back, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, refusing to show any weakness. Was this the end? 

"Of course, I hopped on a flight to have it out with you. Isn't that what you wanted?"    “Don’t you gaslight me Christopher Bang, I’m not your little fucking fans–” 

He looked exasperated, hands out, "What do my fans have to do with this?! You said it's simple, am I coming or not? I'm here, just like you wanted, because it's all about you, isn't it?" 

I turned away, striding off, the red haze building within me. I wanted to lay into him for talking out the side of his neck like this, but I wouldn't stoop to that level. His voice echoed down the hall. 

"Yeah, walk away. It's your specialty—running away." 

I halted, closing my eyes, back turned to him, grappling with the urge. I fought it hard; he was on the brink of hitting below the belt. Logic eluded me at this moment. 

"I'm going to smoke before I physically violate you." 

Attempting to walk away again, his footsteps echoed behind me. Chris wasn't the type to follow for an argument—that was typically my role. I expected him to detour to the kitchen for a drink or something, anything other than what he actually did. His hand seized my forearm, yanking me hard enough to turn me three-quarters around. I saw red, wind knocked out of me as my back slammed into the wall, caged between his big, loud hands thudding against the wall beside my head. A flinch—a moment of confusion. Had he struck me? 

Quickly assessing, no parts of my body ached except between my shoulder blades from the impact. 

Breathing heavier than anticipated, Chris mirrored the sentiment. 

"Physically violate me, then," he uttered, his voice dangerously low, just above a whisper. My body was confused, my brain a tangled mess. His intense gaze bore into my face, forcing me to look away. He tilted his head, compelling eye contact once more. 

"It's not rocket science, Y/N." 

The phrase echoed from our earlier phone argument, reigniting my hostility. I raised my head, meeting his eyes with a narrowed gaze. "I hate you," I snarled, trying to slip underneath his arm to free myself. Chris wasn't having it; he gripped my wrist behind my back, pressing my chest against the wall. His muscular frame kept me in place, his chest against my back. I twisted my wrist, but he tightened his hold. His breath grazed my shoulder, his words so close to my ear it felt like he was feeding them straight into my brain. 

"I hate you too, baby," he murmured. His free hand ghosted the tendrils of hair that had escaped my messy ponytail, tender and gentle unlike the firm grip on my wrist. As his fingers swept the hair away, soft lips pressed against my skin, eliciting a sigh from my lips. Each kiss left thorns of heat, moving along my neck, down to my shoulder. 

"I hate you," I repeated, losing my edge. 

"Mmm, shut up—I know," Chris replied.    Finally, he releases me, his hands finding their way to my waist beneath my baggy sweatshirt. Despite being in my home for a few minutes, his touch is still cold against my warmed skin. I feel a shiver as my nipples harden, and he seems to sense it, cupping them, squeezing. My knees almost buckle as I lean back, my head perfectly resting on his shoulder. Our bodies intertwine, fitting together like a perfect puzzle piece. His fingers pinch the pebbled flesh, drawing a moan from me and an audible sigh from him. 

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I can feel his hardness against my backside. It's not a gradual thing; he's already rock stiff, hips grinding into me as his hands explore my body with a passionate messiness. 

What were we arguing about again?    Lust swirls, making me dizzy with how good my body feels. My eyes lose focus and regain it with every recovery breath as he squeezes at the extra padding on my hips and waist. No part of my body goes untouched, and I try to shake off my reservations.     No, that was a hang-up of mine.    Christopher Bang is here to touch, lick, and squeeze every inch that belongs to him. 

A tap on my hip brings me back to reality—a gentle reminder between us whenever things heat up in unconventional places. 

Against-the-wall activities are actually pretty uncomfortable in real life. 

Who knew? 

He takes my hand, and I follow him like an excited puppy, almost stumbling over myself to reach his body once we get to the couch. It's my turn now; my hands have a mind of their own too, you know. 

Such a soft face without makeup, I'd almost forgotten the hardness of his body—had it become even more solid? My hands run over his abdomen, feeling something different—less lean, more meaty. Usually, I go straight for what's mine, but now I'm curious. Gripping the bottom of his hoodie, I can sense the muscle shirt underneath, so I yank them both off, the scent of his body wash, cologne, and deodorant hitting me all at once, etching the experience into my mind on nearly every sensory level, except for... 

Taste. 

As his clothes drop to the floor with a muffled thud on the carpet, he turns to face me. His skin is less milky, more sandy tan, and wheat-colored under my warm lights, unlike the artificial ones he's usually bathed in. He must've soaked up the sun in LA, and I can still see it reddening in the places where blood has surged the quickest. 

He's completely under the spell of carnal sensuality—deep in the well, unable to see anything around him, becoming the parts of himself he wouldn't dare confront in the daylight. I notice because I pay attention to things like that—I see the way he looks at me, as if I'm his most treasured plaything. His mannerisms change, slower, with certainty in every touch. He says things you wouldn't dare repeat once he's back to his Earth self, lest he deny, deny, deny, laughing loudly overtop of you, or cringing away from embarrassment. 

Yes, as I drop slowly to my knees, watching him, I see the way he stands in his masculinity, divine, a god in his own right. Just when I think the moment can't get any hotter or I might combust, I hear him—a puff of air through his nose, a lazy, almost entertained, but not quite—chuckle. His lip quirks ever so slightly upwards. 

"You hate me?" 

Heat radiates from my body; I'm certain I'm letting off steam at this point. I feel it, especially in my face, fingers wrapped in the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging loosely as I look down, unable to maintain eye contact, feeling regret building up in me. I can tell by the way he says it that he never believed it—but still... 

"I didn't think so," Chris' voice answers the unspoken questions in my head. His fingers graze the bottom of my chin, urging me to look at him. "Look at me while you do it." 

My engine roars to life without hesitation. I tighten my grip on his sweats, yanking them down with determination. He kicks them off, backing up to sit on the couch, but I'm not waiting. I take the caramel-colored, thick head of his dick between my lips, halting his retreat. The sweetness of his precum floods my mouth, turning bitter as it reaches the back of my tongue and throat. Flattening my tongue against the bottom of his girthy shaft, I open my mouth, letting him rub his sensitive, unsheathed tip against the warm, back wall of my throat. 

Obediently watching him. 

He likes that, making it clear by placing his hand on the back of my head, urging me to stay while he thrusts further, pulling out just a centimeter to plunge into my throat. Small gasps escape his lips every time my gag reflex spasms around him. I run out of breath, choking backward, and he lifts his hand, allowing me to right myself. 

"C'mon, babygirl—thaaaat's it—fuck." Chris grips what's left of my ponytail, guiding me back onto his dick, all the way to the back, with no true mercy. A few more tiny thrusts, and I'm coughing again, my mouth and jaw drenched with slippery saliva mixed with the constant ooze of his precum. He glances behind him, ensuring his seating, then lets himself fall back onto the couch, hand tangled in my thick hair as I wrap both hands around his cock—a pretty, deep brown, a stark contrast to his body tone. 

When I start focusing on stroking his sensitive tip, he drops his head back, emitting the most delicious groan. Pulling back on his sheath, dribbling spit onto his tip, I begin jerking him again, taking advantage of the smoothness the extra skin provides. I follow with my mouth, taking in whatever my hands can't reach, and when I start with the suction, another groan escapes him—this time, broken, his hips rising a little off the couch, encouraging me to keep going. 

"Oh God—that feels fucking—incredible; don't you—fucking stop."    His chest moves with each gasp as I twirl my hand a certain way. I try to stay consistent, but it's been a while, and my neck strains from the bobbing, lips growing numb. But fuck, he's so hot; I don't wanna stop. 

I engage in a slow rhythm, savoring the silky feeling of his dickhead against my swollen mouth and eager lips, pressing loud, wet kisses against it. He's lifted his gaze to watch, and I seize the opportunity to run my tongue along his length, exploring the prominent ridge beneath. 

"Oh my God—" His head drops back, words and vowels drawn out in ecstasy. 

I lean back on my heels, hands taking charge, a twist here, a firm grasp there. When I lean forward and start slurping again, with all intentions of taking this man’s soul—his hips withdraw, and he halts me with a breathless, "Fuck," sounding like he just finished a sprint. "You almost made me cum," He taps my shoulder twice, a signal we both understand, prompting another switch in our silent dance. 

I’m more than happy to obey, feeling how wet I’ve become when he pulls my sweats off as I climb onto the couch on my knees, my arms resting on the head of it that rests against the wall.   I can feel his hands, now warm, even hot almost against my ass as he spreads me open.  I curl my fingers into the couch with anticipation, and then comes the feeling of both of his fingers entering me first.  I let out an eager moan, reveling in the relief and satisfaction of being touched by someone so skillfully.  He’s curling two fingers, stroking my spot, I can feel his pinky and index splayed against my juicy, wet pussy lips.  The filthy sounds amplify as he increases the pressure, prompting me to move against his touch, the base of his hand firmly against my asshole. 

“Mmm, baby, you know how much daddy loves to eat this pretty little cunt—but the way you’re clenching around my fingers, fuck I—I gotta feel you.”  Chris slows down, he speaks again, reminding me of his proposition, “Is that alright babygirl? Hm? Can daddy fuck you now?” 

“Mhm, Mhm!” I can’t think straight, why was he asking? Of course he could fuck me ten ways from Tuesday in a handstand for all I care!  Just— 

“Fuck me.” I beg, unsure if I meant to finish that thought out loud. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” The weight of his knee presses onto my leg, his foot securing his position against my other thigh, his thumb against my asshole as I begin to feel his dick stretching me open, eliciting the weirdest, downright feral sound from deep within my gut. He’s raw, and I swore I could feel every vein, every ridge, and his head passing through every sensitive quadrant of my pussy until his balls tickled the lips covering my entrance.  It was then that my walls squeeze around him, desperate to feel him move.  I could almost make myself cum just like that—I begin moving against him, caught in the intensity of the moment, like a cat in heat, and he’s so deep, I feel him in places that make my eyes flutter. 

Thumb leaving my sensitive hole, Chris takes firm hold of the sides of my tummy, rutting into my heat, sending a shiver through my spine that puts me into an arch. He seizes the chance to hold the front of my neck, adjusting me for a slower, more profound connection, exploring every inch of me.  It takes a lot of stamina in the legs for this—of course he’s got that.  I rest my hand on his thigh beside me, feeling the firmness, digging my nails in as I grit my teeth together, the pleasure overwhelming me as our bodies, beginning to get slick with the fluids between us, rock desperately against one another. 

I'm released, and I lurch forward, barely snagging myself on the top of the couch. Just then, I sense it against my left hip— 

 tap tap 

My vision snaps back into focus as I hear him breathing as heavily as I am, flopping down onto the couch. I take the lead, hovering over him. We both gaze as his dick is swallowed up by my pussy, inch by beautiful inch.    I let out an incoherent sound, a mix of a grunt and a moan, my arm draped over his shoulder, fingers entwined in the curls at the nape of his neck as he thrusts. My touch shifts from gentle exploration to grabbing fistfuls of his thick, silky, curly hair at the base of his skull. Using my knees for stability, I sync with his rhythm, adding those addictive hip circles that set every part of me ablaze like a pinball machine. The alarms blare, the lights flash – this, right here, is my favorite way to connect with Chris, where we're on an equal playing field. 

As we delve deeper into each other's gaze, the intensity heightens, but there's always a moment when one of us surrenders, head lolling back, eyes rolling together. His hands work my hips in rhythmic circles, like a baker kneading dough on a board. Yet, I sense when he's had his fill as he takes back control, lifting me up and snapping his hips into me at speeds that defy reality. My cries become a constant stream, shameless screams of his name, erratic and desperate. 

"Yeah, thaat's it—"    I can feel my walls softening as my body begins to literally feel like it's filling up with water that’s threatening to consume me any second now.  I’m gasping, trying to form the words to tell him I’m almost there, that he can’t stop, or even slow up, he’s got to keep going, I’m certain if I don’t get there, I’m going to die. 

“D-Daddy, don’t—” I can’t say anything else, I can only hope he gets it. 

And he does. 

Chris always gets it. 

“Gonna stop---all your bitching, hm?”  He’s holding my waist to allow me the freedom to focus on my impending orgasm. “Gonna let me do my fucking job from now on, yeah?”    “Mm--yeah!”      “Say it,”    “Chris!” I whimper in protest, “I’mma s-stop fucking---bitching!” 

“That’s my girl.”    He slaps my ass, sending a shock through my body, but before I can recover, he strikes again, and again, and my body becomes quickly hyperstimulated. I start letting go, my breath held hostage in my chest as Chris lets out a stream of curses, hitting his peak and spilling inside of me.  I can feel it, it’s carrying my climax out even further, and when I finally collapse, with him still inside, I can feel my entire body buzzing, and I’m muttering something that doesn’t make sense to myself or him. 

We're both catching our breath, heart rates settling down, but Chris finds joy in this aftermath. He chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my lower back, exploring the dimples above my tailbone.    "What are you saying?" he asks. 

"I love you. I love you, and I never want us to breakup. Ever," I say, more composed now, my cheek resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, the pull of sleep threatening to take over like it always did after a proper orgasm. His arms wrap around me, securing them with a grasp on his own wrist. I feel a sense of security. 

"I love you too. I didn't come all this way to break up with you," he reassures me. I lift my head, likely with my hair wild and untamed. 

"Really, Channie?" 

He laughs.  The nickname is cleared for use again. He kisses my lips.

"Of course not. Why would I cross the country just to break up with someone? That seems like a lot of...effort," Chris continues. He tilts his head back to gaze at me, tucking his chin in. Once he sees my focused attention, he looks ahead as he talks. "I want to be with you, or I wouldn't have made you my girl—" 

"You didn't," I interrupt, sitting up. I pull away from his lap, wrapping the knitted throw over myself as I nestle into the couch beside him. 

He looks puzzled, "I didn't? Really?" He shrugs, raising his brows. "I always thought you were." 

The relief floods in. 

So, we were on the same page. 

Curiosity takes over, and I inquire, "When did you start thinking of me as your girlfriend?" 

"Mm." Chris looks up in thought before locking eyes with me again. "The first time we had sex." 

I'm taken aback by the memory. It wasn't a smooth ride, ended up in a heated argument. "When I got caught outside the building after our studio session? Chris, you almost jeopardized your whole career after that." 

Chris tugs at the blanket's end, and I hand it over. As he slides underneath, he takes my foot into his lap, rubbing circles into the center. "That's not how it works—don't get me wrong, it was... difficult. It still is, which is why I couldn't just decide to show up when you asked. I've been allowed, by contract, to date for a few years now." 

"Then why are we sneaking around like you're ashamed of me or something?" I hug the blanket tighter, feeling exposed. 

Chris seems thrown by this revelation. "Ashamed of you for what? You're beautiful, talented. I don't—did I give you that impression, babygirl?" He shakes his head. "I'm protecting you. You've just been signed to a major label, and we've got a good thing going, yeah? Why mess it up now when we can wait for things to level out for the both of us?" 

He makes some valid points. It's reassuring to hear he's not ashamed of me. I start to feel the familiar peace his presence brings. It's been four months since we were last in the same country, let alone the same city. I grew impatient after he came in on business and then left again, making excuses not to see me. That's why this time, I escalated it and added pressure. 

"Level out, what does that mean?" I ask. Chris sits back, mindlessly running his thumb over the pads of my toes while looking at the coffee table's candle. 

"I think we'll know once we both get there." He looks up to me. "I'm sorry, babygirl. I wish I had a better answer for you right now." He sounds sincere enough. I believe him. He's given me no reason not to trust him before, right? His fingers stop on my soles, and he tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if trying to see something better. He leans forward, picking up the knitted beanie near the ashtray. 

My heart drops when I realize what it is. 

But why? I didn't do anything wrong.    RIght? 

"This new?" He turns it around on his hand. "Where'd you get it? I like it." 

Caught in the moment, I blurt, "A gift." I reach forward, taking it before he can spot any stray hair that doesn't match mine. He's not checking that closely, at least not yet. I turn it over in my hands. "I've been keeping it cold in the house, so it helps keep me warm," I say, tossing it onto the beanbag chair. I turn to him, nudging his shoulder as I scoot closer. 

"Sooo, how was KCON?"  - fin

[sansxreaderbraindump]

CANON (maybe idk how to write his canon like personality bleh) HORROR SANS X PLAYER >:D I'm absolutely dog shit at writing canon personality and have no writing skills other then my LA classes but i forgor 💀 the lessons. but WHO CARES IM WRITING THIS FOR MY OWN BENEFIT. i might delete this in the future idk (￣﹃￣) - Ht sans being the hypocrite selfish sadist paired up with the teasing careless kind of sadist Player who was the main cause of this mess. - slightly Canonized Horrortale sans x player: The most toxic yaoi couple in the underground. /hj - imagine Player just one day comes back and sees the whole entire hellhole the underground have gotten. "Well this is interesting :)" - He hates the fact that he can't hurt you in any way, he learned that when he first tried to "hand drill" you. it drain some of your health but didn't hurt you in a way that you felt any pain, you just stared at him and grinned, flat on laughing at him. "WOW! this is new, show me more.~ =)" - he has quite a grudge against you since you left them down there , he misses you but doesn't admit it. (he would never miss but eh i said slightly canonized) - You love to tease him all day and say the most out of pocket things that catches him off guard. - Every few rare moments, you trace your fingers on the sharp edges of his head wound. you pricked your finger one time. - Horror: *rips out your entire arm* Player, blushing: OMG!! awww sans, I didn't know you felt that way about me~! - He obsessively hates you but you are into that, you horny fu- - I envisioned a fanart of horror sans biting into player's shoulder, looking at them with a hateful glare. blood dripping down their chest and shoulder like a river while player grins at him, patting his head like some he was some sort of dog. (edit: i want to add 2 more things (>'-'<) - he is very much tired of your teasing shit but tbh you make things more interesting now you're back. - That One time that he would never forget, as usually he was having stomach pain from the hunger. Until you gave him a Glamburger from your cell A inventory. It looked fresh like before everything went to shit, he couldn't believe it once he first held it. He didn't ate it right away, he rather stared at you instead and asked you "Why?" but you didn't reply, no insults, no jokes. You turned and walked away to go find your current vessel.... - "alexa play "bark like you want it" by sir Mix-A-Lot" AHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHA >:) /hj

anyways I'm done, thank you for reading my ted talk. ill see ya my little goobers later. *TheFatRat - Xenogenesis starts playing*

[mybelovednick]

Worship Me For the Night is Young

(NICK STURNIOLO ONESHOT)

This is my first ever request so please be kind

T/N: blood, graphic description of bodies, implied smut

Summary: Prince Nicolas has been in love with the Royal General, Philias. But due to unfortunate circumstances, the prince falls ill and the general is ordered by the king to be exiled to a dangerous border with a brutal war along with his troops. Tonight is the the last night that the both of them will ever see each other.

____________________

“You asked for me? Your Highness.” I entered Prince Nicolas’s chamber.

The prince simply nodded. I bowed and stepped closer towards him. He was paler than usual. The candles on his bedside table shed warm light on his moonlit skin.

Nicolas was sick and bed ridden for a few weeks now. The king had the best physicians from all over the country to nurse him back to health.

He opened his eyes lazily and turned his head towards me. I always forgot how deeply blue his eyes were.  The shade of blue that melted right off the summer sky. His eyes reminded me of summer, always.

“When are you leaving?” He asked me. His voice was steady with a princely authority that was not affected by his deteriorating health. But I could feel a sharp sting of sadness that he was holding behind his throat.

“The King ordered me to lead the army to Calica tomorrow morning.” I replied.

The prince seemed to wince by shutting his eyes forcefully. He moved his head away from me to look at the yellowish moon that was peeking through the heavily embroidered curtains.

He was silent. The chamber was silent as well, apart from the occasional cackling of the fire that kept the chamber warm in February or the cold wind that made the bare branches of the pine trees rustle against the glass window.

I watched Nicolas. Once, so full of life and the brightest smile and the mind of gold; now dull with a permanent frown on his brow from the pulsating pain from his chest that the physicians kept assuring would die down soon.

I could cry right then and there. I wish I could hold him again. Hug him and somehow let the pain flow through our arms into me. Somehow. I missed his lips pressing into mine. I missed how he would embrace me like he was drinking every last drop of my soul. I missed his smile when he would ask me if we could run away from these wretched duties of royalty and live in peace, just the two of us forever; and I’d reply, “One day.”

“Philias…” It was no longer the princely voice this time. It was simply Nicolas. My name seemed so foreign in his tongue although he had called me by my name a thousand times before.

Nicolas attempted to get up from his bed. Seeing him struggle, I tried to help but he raised his hand towards me, clearly gesturing me to not get closer to him. He managed to sit upright on his bed. He was wearing a shear white robe that went past his knees. His hair was dishevelled but he still managed to look princely with the pearl earrings being the only form of adornment on his body.

Even his grief felt palpable to me. “Does father know about us, Philias?”

“Y-yes, your highness.” I couldn’t help but stutter. The prince’s head was still fixated on the floor beneath him, as if he was examining the carpet and the impossible patterns that the best weavers had woven into that piece of fabric.

“Is this why he is sending one of his best generals to fight the terrible war in the Calican border?”

We were both silent.

“I am sure whatever his Majesty does, he does it in the best interest of the coun-“ I was interrupted by a glass plate shattering against the wall. “SHUT UP!” Nicolas yelled.

“You might be the best warrior of this hell bound country.” The prince spat his words, “But I know you are nothing but a fucking coward of a man. Not better than a dog that barks all night but hides once the hunter shows up in the day.”

His words had every ounce of venom that he had kept bottled inside of him. I said nothing.

“Take me with you, Philias.”

“I am sorry, but your health-“

Nicolas shot up from his bed, grabbed his knife and pinned me against the wall. I was an inch taller than him but he had the knife pressed against my throat.

I did not dare to breathe.

“You dare call the prince weak? General, Sir Philias.”  He smiled crookedly.

His body was radiating heat just like the chamber fire. Even if it was just for a moment, I saw the glimmer of playfulness in his eyes again.

“You think this is funny?” Nicolas pushed the blade closer making a slight incision on my skin. And I winced.

He kept staring at me, expecting me to say something but I didn’t.

At last he threw the blade away and stayed still for a moment, “Do you even love me Philias?” He tore his walls down. I saw his eyes getting shinier and blood rushing around his blue iris. Tears were stabbing the back of my eyes too, like a hundred needles wanting to push out of my body.

“To the moon and back, Nicolas” I replied with my shaky voice. It was almost like a whisper. I didn’t know if he heard it but he buried his face on my chest. His nails were clawing into me as if I’d be taken away from him any minute.

“I wish I could..” He stopped and looked back at me again. This time his eyes were blood shot. “I wish I could stab my chest to alleviate myself from this pain.”

“Nic-“

“But whenever you are with me, it soothes me more than all these fucking medicines that they shove it down me. In what world do you think I would be able to live on in a place where you are not there?”

His voice was so tender. I could crush it with my hands if I could touch it in this moment.

I helped him get to bed again. He was sitting on his bed, hugging himself. I kneeled down on the floor beneath him.

After he was able to catch his breath again, he touched the wound on my neck. “It’s bleeding.” He said to himself. He crouched a little and I could feel his warm tongue on my skin. My whole body shuddered. I could smell his hair. He was so close; my whole body was fighting against my desire to touch him one last time.

“Show me.” He ordered me again, in a princely tone. “Show me how much you love me.”

It was hard to read his face. He was weary and tired but still had this hunger for passion. The skin under his eyes turned dark and grey. His rosy pink cheeks were now almost blue. His face had sunken with worry and did not retain the youthful plump it once had.

It came as second nature to touch his cheeks. “I wish I could.” He leaned into my palm and closed his eyes, forcing the last drop of tear to escape his lashes and flow into my fingers. “I never want to leave you, ever.” I kept fighting the tears.

The prince held my hand that was cupping his face. His hands were terrifyingly cold against mine. “Then don’t” He whispered, “Please don’t”. He guided my hands to the pins of his white robe.

“But-“ I tried to resist.

“Please.” Nicolas could barely make the words come out of his mouth, “Make the night last forever.”

I nodded. He laid down on his bed. He was still holding my hand so I untied the fabric. He led my hands towards his shoulders. I ran my fingers on his warm body and slid the fabric to show his skin that seemed like milk and honey with the warm candle light.

I pressed my nose against the soft skin of his base of his neck and under his chin. His breath hitched for a moment. I looked at him, “Are you sure?” I asked. He smiled at me and so I continued.

He smelled like herbs and warm rain from the sweat. I tried to breathe in all of him that night. His fingers were entangled in my hair.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your long hair?”

God I missed his smile, so much.

“Yes, your highness.”

Suddenly he tugs at my hair and feel my hair being pulled as I wince at the pain.

“Call me Nicolas.” He grins. I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

I leaned in closer towards him and caressed his right ear, “Have I ever told you how much I love your ear, Nicolas?”

“No, that is a silly thing to love.” He chuckled a little.

I gently nibbled on his ear lobes, carefully taking his pearl earring off with my teeth. I could feel him squirm beneath me. He released my hair and I grabbed his hands by mine, interlocked other fingers and pressed it firmly on the mattress.

“I wish I could tell you how I love each and every inch of your skin.” I sighed as I rest my head on top of his chest. His heart was beating uncontrollably. It was echoing inside his hollow chest cavity. I could hear him breathe in and breathe out as his chest rose and fell, syncing to my breath.

“Then tell me.” He whispered in my ear, “worship me as long as the night remains young.” His eyes were shimmering with lust.

He was waiting in anticipation and eyeing my every move as to what I would do.

I traced the side of his cheek with my tongue and travelled down his neck and stopped at his collar bones. “Have I told you how much I love them?” …… “No.” he replied, barely audible.

I planted almost a million kisses from the ‘v’ of neck to his shoulders. Then I traced his arms with my nose, “Have I told you about this?”

“No…”

I bit the soft flesh of his bicep. And he shuddered, almost letting out a scream but he stopped himself. I watched his cheeks getting flushed and his ears turned bright red. I was immensely pleased with how his body would respond to every touch of mine.

The body never lies.

I traced the embroidered lining of his beautiful robe. I slowly pulled it off of him.

He arched his back so I could pull it further down. I did.

I couldn’t help but hug his torso with my arms. He felt so fragile under me. Like a porcelain doll. I was afraid one single touch could shatter his body into a million pieces. His body felt so sacred to me. If I could, I’d never stop worshipping him, ever.

After that, I drew circles around his chest with my tongue. Lingering on every part of skin that I knew made him lose his mind when touched. “How about this?” I asked mischievously.

“N-..no.” his eyes were shut at this point.

My hands travelled further down: to his abdomen. I was in awe by how gracefully his stomach muscles were tensing and relaxing simultaneously as he took heavy breaths.

I traced my fingers along the fine trail of hair that started right below his navel. “I surely must have said something about this?” I said teasingly. He said nothing.

He held my hair and pushed my lips against his lower belly.

I followed his hipbones as I grabbed him by his waist, “how about this?” I asked.

“M-maybe.”

I followed the fine hair on his smooth skin of his stomach.  I went lower and even further down near his thighs. “Have I told you how much I love-“

“Tell me again.” He whispered.

And I did. Over and over and over, for the night seemed to be young forever.

_______________________

tags: @ohmtoff @thenickgirl @matty-bear2 @ohmtoff @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @nicksfavhoe @heyitsmemia @neo404 @matty-bear2 @thenickgir @loud-sturniolos @maria4mari @solarsturniolo @darl1ngdr1sta @tkhzs @soursturniolo @nicksbf @g3z0 @certifiednatelover

[whipitgod]

Don’t Worry About The Tomatoes

Hannibal Lecter x Will graham

oneshot - wc :1.2k

summary: not that plot heavy just a mix of fluff and crack jammed into a meet ugly trope/au. will is hannibal’s horrible new neighbor and hannibal struggles to be that angry about his behavior.

warnings: none other than potential bad writing and both of them being kind of ooc lol

a/n: feedback is greatly appreciated!!!! remember to like and reblog if you enjoy this, maybe even follow me ~ this really got away from me, i didn’t really have a solid plan going into but if you like it lmk and ill write a part 2 or something :D

Hannibal shuts his book sharply, standing with a huff and turning to look out the window into the backyard. His newest neighbor has been nothing short of a pain since he moved in a couple weeks before, from the loud rumble of power tools as he made repairs on the house, to the barking of the many dogs that he seems to have.

Hannibal feels somewhat willing to look past the noise of the power tools given that the home is admittedly a bit run down. Truthfully he can't remember who the last tenant of the home was, he thinks he remembers an old woman living in the home alone. The only thoughts crossing his mind as he peers through the window at the man hacking at an overgrown tree with a chainsaw are that he wishes the old lady still resided in the home, and he hopes the man has an unfortunate accident with the loud saw. Hannibal has yet to even see the man, having no idea his name let alone what he looks like, but he’s fantasized of taking his life on more occasions than he can count in the short time that the man has lived there.

“This is ridiculous.'' Hannibal grouses, pushing away from the window with the intent to confront the man, who cares about witnesses at this point; he'd be surprised if the other neighbors don't thank him for his service to the community. As soon as his hand reaches the door knob a loud crash echoes from the backyard, he hopes its the frustrating man falling to his demise,

“I'm not that lucky.” Hannibal muses quietly, making quick strides back towards the window. What he sees is enough to make him gasp in shock, pressing a hand against his heart as he takes in the damage. The branch the man was sawing at had fallen directly onto Hannibal's garden, the plants beneath the branch no question destroyed. He had just gotten that tomato plant staked properly. With a renewed vigor he charges out of the room and towards the back door grumbling quietly to himself as he goes,

“Going to use my bare hands, might not even eat him,” He grabbed the knob and pushed the door open, “going to have to see if there is even anything left to eat.” He continues his quiet murmurs until he spots the man with his back turned to him.

“Excuse me,” Hannibal spat, unable to disguise most of the anger bubbling inside him, “You destroyed my-” he’s unable to finish his complaint as the man finally turns to face him.

Oh god, he’s probably the most attractive man Hannibal has ever laid eyes on. Hannibal sucks in a sharp breath, opening his mouth with the intent to speak again, though he doubts he’d be able to get the words out. He doesn't have to worry about speaking because the man beats him to it,

“Hello?” dear god even his voice is attractive, a rasp coming from what hannibal assumes is years of smoking met with a slight southern drawl, must have grown up somewhere in the south, hannibal rolls the thought around his head a few times all while staring blankly at the gruff man in front of him.

“You must be the owner of the garden I demolished,” the man started, “sorry about that.” He didn't really sound all that sorry, if anything his tone bordered on teasing; if Hannibal was in his right mind he would have found the mans flippant attitude towards the situation unspeakably rude, but he was currently finding it hard to feel any anger towards the beautiful man in front of him. It took Hannibal a moment to even recognize that the man had asked him a question, realizing only when he met the man's curious gaze.

“Hannibal Lecter,” he held out his hand and the other man gripped it firmly. The first thought that went through Hannibal's mind was strong followed quickly by a horrified what am I doing?

“Will Graham,” the man responded, “Again I’m really sorry about your garden.” The man, Will Hannibal's mind supplied, still didn't really seem that sorry; before hannibal could truly think about that he found himself responding quickly,

“It’s not a big deal,” the phrase leaves his mouth before he can stop himself, “It was an honest mistake.” he says the last part with a smile determined not to show the gravity of his internal conflict. Oh god what is wrong with me, his brain supplies in a panicked tone, of course it’s a big deal, it is a huge deal.

“Are you sure?” Will questions returning the smile, “I wouldn't blame you if you were angry with me.”

Hannibal stares at him blankly for a moment, he wants to be angry, he's digging around in his brain trying to find his anger. He can't be angry, not when all he can think about is seeing him smile again. Dear god what is my problem, flashes through Hannibal's mind,

“I'm very sure,” Hannibal affirmed, “I actually planned on digging up the garden and planting some new things.” hannibal prays to whatever higher power there may be that will doesn't notice the flood of different emotions that flash across his face as the words leave his mouth, it seems like his prayer works because Will responds with a smile,

“Would you like my help replanting? Given that I’m the one that crushed it.” Will chuckles softly as the last words leave his mouth, Hannibal also lets out a soft laugh before he can catch himself.

“Oh I couldn't ask that of you,” Hannibal replied, a pitiful attempt at denying how much he wants the help, if only as an excuse to spend more time around the enthralling man in front of him.

“You didn't ask,” will starts with a small smile, “I offered.”

Hannibal returns the smile,it feels like the only thought his brain is capable of is what am I doing? Before he can think better of it hannibal lets out a sigh,

“Well I would be remiss to turn down help when offered,” Hannibal begins, “Would you be free tomorrow to start working?” Hannibal sucks in a quiet breath waiting for the other man to respond, why am I so nervous?

“Even if i wasn't i’d make the time,” Will responds with a teasing smile, “how does noon sound?”

Hannibal has half the mind to think that it almost sounds like Will is flirting though he doesn't have the time to dwell on it before he's rushing out a response,

“Noon sounds perfect.”

Will sends Hannibal another smile accompanied with a teasing look, almost like he understands the effect he's had on Hannibal's blood pressure since the beginning of their interaction.

“It's a date,” Will confirms, “see you tomorrow hannibal.” and with that the man turns and begins walking towards the door of the worn down house, not sparing another look at hannibal as he enters the house and shuts the door softly behind him. Hannibal stands there for a minute staring blankly at the door, his thoughts cascading through his head faster than he can even recognize what they are. He doesn't even realize that his feet had carried him back to his home until he steps through the doorway and the door slams shut behind him, snapping him from his stupor. He lets out a harsh breath attempting to gather his thoughts,

“What the hell just happened.”

[iwillnotdieamonster]

"This is a beautiful letter from Fiona Apple explaining to her fans why she must postpone a concert date. I am impressed at the way she was instantly able to make the decision to choose love over her career. Indeed, the world needs more of this.

It's 6pm on Friday, and I'm writing to a few thousand friends I have not met yet. I'm writing to ask them to change our plans and meet a little while later.

Here's the thing.

I have a dog, Janet, and she's been ill for about 2 years now, as a tumor has been idling in her chest, growing ever so slowly. She's almost 14 years old now. I got her when she was 4 months old. I was 21 then — an adult, officially — and she was my kid.

She is a pitbull, and was found in Echo Park, with a rope around her neck, and bites all over her ears and face.

She was the one the dogfighters use to puff up the confidence of the contenders.

She's almost 14 and I've never seen her start a fight, or bite, or even growl, so I can understand why they chose her for that awful role. She's a pacifist.

Janet has been the most consistent relationship of my adult life, and that is just a fact. We've lived in numerous houses, and joined a few makeshift families, but it's always really been just the two of us.

She slept in bed with me, her head on the pillow, and she accepted my hysterical, tearful face into her chest, with her paws around me, every time I was heartbroken, or spirit-broken, or just lost, and as years went by, she let me take the role of her child, as I fell asleep, with her chin resting above my head.

She was under the piano when I wrote songs, barked any time I tried to record anything, and she was in the studio with me, all the time we recorded the last album.

The last time I came back from tour, she was spry as ever, and she's used to me being gone for a few weeks, every 6 or 7 years.

She has Addison's Disease, which makes it more dangerous for her to travel, since she needs regular injections of Cortisol, because she reacts to stress and excitement without the physiological tools which keep most of us from literally panicking to death.

Despite all this, she's effortlessly joyful & playful, and only stopped acting like a puppy about 3 years ago. She is my best friend, and my mother, and my daughter, my benefactor, and she's the one who taught me what love is.

I can't come to South America. Not now. When I got back from the last leg of the US tour, there was a big, big difference.

She doesn't even want to go for walks anymore.

I know that she's not sad about aging or dying. Animals have a survival instinct, but a sense of mortality and vanity, they do not. That's why they are so much more present than people.

But I know she is coming close to the time where she will stop being a dog, and start instead to be part of everything. She'll be in the wind, and in the soil, and the snow, and in me, wherever I go.

I just can't leave her now, please understand. If I go away again, I'm afraid she'll die and I won't have the honor of singing her to sleep, of escorting her out.

Sometimes it takes me 20 minutes just to decide what socks to wear to bed.

But this decision is instant.

These are the choices we make, which define us. I will not be the woman who puts her career ahead of love & friendship.

I am the woman who stays home, baking Tilapia for my dearest, oldest friend. And helps her be comfortable & comforted & safe & important.

Many of us these days, we dread the death of a loved one. It is the ugly truth of Life that keeps us feeling terrified & alone. I wish we could also appreciate the time that lies right beside the end of time. I know that I will feel the most overwhelming knowledge of her, and of her life and of my love for her, in the last moments.

I need to do my damnedest, to be there for that.

Because it will be the most beautiful, the most intense, the most enriching experience of life I've ever known.

When she dies.

So I am staying home, and I am listening to her snore and wheeze, and I am revelling in the swampiest, most awful breath that ever emanated from an angel. And I'm asking for your blessing.

I'll be seeing you.

Love,

Fiona"

Credit goes to the respective owners.

[lilac-hecox]

hi i would love an ianthony fic where one of them is sick and the other is caring for them?? Couldn't stop thinking about this since Anthony said he would "nurse ian back to health" back when they got covid lol

Congrats on 500 followers btw!!!

Ian/Anthony - Ianthony - Sick

--

“You suck. You did this to me,” Ian complains.

“I’m sorry,” Anthony says, pressing the back of his hand to Ian’s sweaty forehead, “I think you have a fever.”

“I have covid because a certain someone gave it to me.”

Anthony withdraws his hand and looks down at Ian. The two of them are sharing a bed, Ian under the covers and Anthony on top, a blanket wound over his shoulders. The both of them are sick as dogs, and to be fair, Ian isn’t wrong. It is Anthony’s fault.

He ignores Ian’s bitching and picks up his phone, checking the alarm he has set.

“We can’t have medicine again for an hour still.”

Ian groans and flips on his side so he’s facing away from Anthony. He coughs, the sound of a bark in his throat, and Anthony curls up against Ian, pressing his front to Ian’s back.

“You’re lucky I’m cold right now,” Ian mumbles.

Anthony squeezes gently around Ian’s middle.

“I’ll keep you warm. You want soup or something?”

“You’re going to make soup?”

“I was thinking I’d get it delivered,” Anthony says, setting his chin over Ian’s shoulder, “I don’t want to make you even sicker with my cooking.”

Ian laughs, the sound rumbling through Ian’s body and into Anthony’s.

“I’m sorry for traveling to Prague and getting covid and then giving it to you,” Anthony says.

Ian turns in Anthony’s hold, so they are face to face.

“It could be worse. At least we’re suffering together. This would suck so much more if I was trapped in my house alone and sick as fuck.”

Anthony runs a hand through Ian’s hair, brushing it away from his damp forehead.

“When we’re better I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah?” Ian asks with a smile, “How?”

“Um…all the blowjobs you can handle?”

Ian laughs and then coughs into his elbow to keep from coughing all over Anthony’s face.

Anthony rubs Ian’s back. He also doesn’t feel well but if he focuses his energy on caring for Ian, it’s easier to forget his own illness wreaking havoc on his body.

“How about this? I’ll order dinner to be delivered. We can lay here and rest until it gets here and then take our meds and eat a little something?”

Ian nods, his eyes already slipping closed.

“Sound perfect to be honest.”

Anthony fishes out his phone and begins setting up an order for their usual favorites and he leans in and presses a sweet kiss to Ian’s cheek.

[i-like-turkey]

I announced on Twitter that I was taking a step back from social media and fandom to deal with a personal matter. That’s still true. I just need to barf some feelings into the universe. I’m putting them under a cut. This is NOT an easy read and I’m NOT holding back details. Don’t feel compelled or obligated to share my pain. TW: Pet death & grief.

I said goodbye to my little girl on Thursday. She’s been my world since I took her home at the end of July 2012. It was both sudden and not sudden. So I’m in shock, but I’m also not really surprised. There were signs that something bad was looming and I had this gut feeling as early as January that this wasn’t gonna be a good year for us.

This likely all started a long time ago. I took her to the vet in August of 2022 right before we moved east. The vet told me that her heart didn’t sound 100%, but it wasn’t something that needed immediate intervention. She had a little murmur that could indicate heart disease and if it got worse, then I’d need to get her to a specialist to take pictures and then we’d likely get her on some medicine to deal with whatever the problem was.

So I heeded the advice to take a wait and see approach. My baby was acting fine. She made it across the country well. She had energy and life. Not quite her puppy energy, but she was 10, so that was normal. I took her to the vet again this last August and I heard the same thing. She has a murmur. It’s not quite bad enough to get images. If it gets worse, we’ll refer you to a specialist. Ok. Great.

We keep living our life. She still has energy. Lunging at cars and barking at other dogs and trying to get endless pets from all of the strangers we’d encounter while walking in our neighborhood and riding our building’s elevators. I can’t tell y’all how many people would ask how old she was and be surprised when I told them 11.

So we get to January and she’s coughing a bit more than she usually does. Background: for the last few years of her life, she’d occasionally have coughing fits when she got super excited about something or barked too hard at a car. Worrying. But something I’d disclosed to all of the vets we’d seen and they didn’t seem perturbed by it. But now the coughing was every few days instead of a couple times a month or three days of coughing followed by months without a single damn cough.

It got really bad mid January. I took her into the vet. The same one who’d listened to her heart in August. He listened again. Nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t have fluid in her lungs. Her energy was fine. He sent me home with antibiotics and a cough suppressant and told me to come back if she didn’t improve after a few days of treatment. She improved. Not right away. There were scary times where her breathing was all labored, but after a few days of the meds, she was doing better, and by the end she seemed fine.

And then we get to last Sunday and I hear a cough and that wasn’t good. And then Monday she’s coughing a bit more and I’m getting nervous. I talk to my parents and we agree to not do anything yet because illnesses can linger and her energy was fine. My mom came over that night and we were standing by the laundry closet doors and my pup pulled a toy out of her toy basket and was just running all over the living room with it. She was shaking her head and growling and having an absolute blast flinging that thing everywhere for the entire lengthy time my mom and I were chatting. She didn’t look sick. She looked like a puppy with lots of gray hair.

Then my mom leaves and we sit on the couch and she rolls over for belly rubs and immediately has to roll back over to cough. Then she cuddles up to me and we sit there and watch TV and I pet her and then I take her out and we go through our nighttime routine. She seemed fine.

Tuesday was a good day. She had energy. We played a bit with one of her favorite toys. We had some good cuddles. I only heard a few coughs.

Wednesday morning she seemed ok energy wise. She coughed when she rolled over for belly rubs right after I got home from my morning walk (solo cause it’s long & hilly. She also got one every morning). I didn’t notice anything abnormal during the day. Then we go out for our evening walk and she’s sluggish. That also wasn’t abnormal cause her energy had been fading for the last few years. Sometimes she’d race through our walks. Sometimes she liked to take a leisurely pace. I never worried cause if a car zoomed past she’d lunge and bark and if she saw a dog, she’d lose her mind. But we passed a couple dogs that night and nothing. That had me on edge. But then we get inside and I put on her favorite TV show, Person of Interest, and she was barking up a storm at Bear and seemed fine. I take that as a positive sign and relax a little.

I make dinner. We go to the couch for nightly cuddles. She rolls over for belly rubs. Starts coughing immediately. I pet her through it. Then she cuddles into my side and coughs a couple more times as we sit there. I put her to bed at her usual bedtime. I hear her coughing a few times as I’m struggling to fall asleep. Then I wake up Thursday and she’s in bad shape. I don’t wanna describe it cause it’s too fucking tough to type and traumatic. But I get us scheduled with the nearby vet asap* and I keep an eye on my girl and her scary symptoms. The symptoms subside a bit. Then my mom comes over to help keep me calm as we wait for our appointment time. My baby perks up when she hears my mom knock. She runs from the couch to the door. She’s wagging her tail and barking and jumping on my mom. She goes and chugs half her bowl of water. We sit there with her for over an hour petting her as we talk. She’s breathing ok. Her tail is between her legs, so that’s a sign something isn’t right. But she’s getting all the love from us and seemed happy.

Then we leave. She pees and poops on the way (I didn’t take her out first thing that morning cause part of the scary badness that I’m skipping is that she peed inside). The vet comes in and listens to her. I show a video I took of her that morning. The vet’s reaction said it all. She snapped into action. Took my baby out of the room for x-rays. As that was happening we were going over pricing options with a tech and then shit kinda really hit the fan cause the x-rays were bad. No specialty review necessary. She had fluid around her heart. So we start talking about transporting her to a specialist. They bring my girl back in. The tech just kinda drops the leash and steps away as soon as my girl is through the door. She starts racing directly to me and she collapses. My mom runs for help. They take her away again. The vet ends up doing the procedure she would have sent us elsewhere to do. Basically draining the fluid. It’s blood. They get her stable and hooked up on oxygen and give me the option of trying to get her to the animal hospital for further intervention. But the vet was clear that she’d probably die on the way and it was VERY clear at that point that she wasn’t gonna get better from this. It was a heart tumor. Something had ruptured and started bleeding. There was no fix. So I made the call to let her go. We got my dad and my brother on the line and told them to get their asses over to us. We stood there petting my baby as we waited. Then we said goodbye.

*In hindsight I maybe should have gotten her in the car and driven her to an emergency hospital. But the closest one ISN’T close. And that wouldn’t have changed the outcome. She hated the car enough that she would pant during two minute drives. 40 minutes (assuming relatively light rush hour traffic which is probably a bad assumption so more like 60 min) of that while she was already in breathing distress might have killed her. But assuming we made it, they could have intervened and maybe bought her a day or two. But this wasn’t something she was gonna get better from. That extra time would have been full of pain. So I made the right call. She got more loves from me and my mom at home and got to pass peacefully nearby while she was surrounded by everyone who loved her.

So I’m devastated and completely out of my mind at the moment. I don’t know what’s up or down. I’m keeping myself occupied between sobbing fits by going through all the pictures I’ve taken over the years. It’s a pain in the ass because my storage habits are terrible and my screenshotting habits are worse so I have hundreds of thousands of images scattered everywhere and now I have to dig through them to find my girl.

Here are some painful lessons I’ve learned from this:

Don’t store 77k images in a single folder on an external hard drive. You won’t be able to copy them all over to the iCloud at a single time unless you have a fuckton of available disk space on your Mac. And trying to scroll through the images will push your computer dangerously close to the limits (I really need a new machine 😬)

Don’t rely too heavily on Snapchat to takes pics. It’s fun in the moment, but 5-6 years later you’re gonna cringe & regret that all your cute dogs pics from that era are plastered over with weird graphics. A Happy Mother’s Day pic with my dog on the couch behind me, hearts all above us, and a damn Wookie filter plastered over my face? jfc 🤦🏼‍♀️

Do give yourself a refresher on how Snapchat works lest you go through and favorite a bunch of memories, see a pop up flash about them getting added to a story, and then have a full on panic attack in front of your parents about how you might have accidentally shared semi-naked pics of yourself with the few people that still follow you 😅 (Yes, I’ve been been known to take and share some risqué pics. Yes, I wanted to download them before deleting them. I might be grieving, but I can still see a pic of my 2018 back muscles and think “Damn!” 🫣🤣)

Don’t be so lax and sloppy about your picture storage habits that you’re forced to keyword search your text messages for pictures cause it’s a good way to find out just how many women you’ve texted dog pics to throughout the years 🥴 She was a great wing woman, but she also loved to clam jam me cause she thought she was the one who should be getting kisses when I’d sit on my couch with a woman 😂

Do find a balance between taking pictures of every damn thing and living in the moment. I stopped taking lots of pics since my east coast move cause I wanted to get away from my compulsive snapping. Now I regret not taking at least one daily shot of her sleeping on the couch.

Do have other people take pictures of you and your dog. So far I’ve only found two different occasions on which someone else took a picture of me and my baby together. All other pics of us are terrible selfies or feature just my hand/arm/legs. I have memories of all those moments that I spent with her, but it hurts to not have a father away perspective on them. Part of this is my fault for living thousands of miles from my family, being fairly closed off to human connections aside from shallow hookups and activity buddies, and viewing my home as a sacred domain accessible to people only if there wasn’t another option for where we could hang out.

Thank you anyone who has made it this far. Please go hug your pets and tell them that you love them. If you would like to leave me a note, that’s very welcome. I don’t have the energy to engage, so it’s unlikely I will respond until the day my energy returns. Idk when that will be. Right now I’m still in the sobbing hysterically as I process my new reality phase. I need to get through that before I’ll be ready to start communicating normally. I’m hopeful that I’ll only need a week or two in this phase. But who knows. Grief is hard to predict. All I can do now is stay patient and work through it.