#I don’t think I’ll ever finish it but here

[gay-dorito-dust]

( ´∀`) I am possibly missing where it says your requests are open or not. I apologize if it is.

If it interests you (your batfam posts bring me joy) how would the boys Jay, Dick, Damian (whoever else) would react to only being able to tell the truth for a day? Like they confess all the things they like about their crush, compliment their family, admit to disliking a dish Alfred made (GASP <(｀^´)> ).

Thank youuuuu~

Jason wore his heart on his sleeve, he lets anyone knows what’s on his mind with zero filter, so him being forced to be truthful was no different to how Jason actually was on a day to day basis.

So at first he doesn’t think anything was out of the ordinary until you asked him a question one day regarding your love life;

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone here Jay, I mean what do I have to do to find somebody.’

‘You don’t have to do anything because everyone else is the problem, not you.’ Jason found himself answering before his mind could find an appropriate response without crossing the boundary of your friendship. ‘They obviously don’t see perfection when they see it because they weren’t looking at you and I find that insulting because who wouldn’t look into your eyes and see forever within them?.’ He finishes and was quick to cover his mouth with his hand, worried that he might’ve said too much for you.

‘And do you see forever in my eyes jay birdie?’ You asked softly, leaning towards him.

Jason drops his hand from his mouth. ‘Hell yeah I do, amongst many other things because you’re worth every heartbreak I’ve ever had in the past because being with you would be my life’s greatest dream come true.’

The next time Jason spoke truthfully was when Dick came to visit and it was after a long, long night of patrol and sleep was at the forefront of his mind, causing it to fog as he let it slip on what he truly thought of Dick.

‘You’re my brother, we may not be related by blood but no one has stood in my corner and was so prepared to be in the wrong then you Richard, and for that I thank you. You really are the best of us.’

Needless to say when he found out that Dick had the whole thing recorded, he wanted to strangle the fucker and make his death look like an accident. Sibling things.

Now, Jason -much like any other- loved Alfred’s food and would never raise an issue over it as he’d pretty much eat anything with his bottomless stomach. So even if he didn’t like one of Alfred’s recipes more self then others, he would say it in the most politest way possible. He loved that kindhearted man too much to ever say anything in regards of the food he’s made him since he was a young lad.

Dick would find peoples expressions to him being honest and truthful funny, but at the same time would be somewhat relieved with this turn out, as he wouldn’t have to force himself to be truthful just to get people to stop asking whether he was alright or not.

He knew he wasn’t always open and honest with his innermost thoughts and feelings at the best and worst of times, knowing all too well of how that would cause lead to the occasional argument of two down the line for himself, but he was never really given the space to figure it out himself on his own time.

So when he found himself speaking the truth to just about anyone, it was as though his heart was exposed for all to see it beating and all. It was as though all of his innermost thoughts regarding everyone in his life was being broadcasted to anyone and everyone with ears and the ability to hear it.

‘You’re so good with Hayley you know.’ Dick blurted once when you were playing with Hayley, stoping as soon as you heard him say this, allowing for Hayley to snatch the toy from your limp hand and lie down elsewhere to amuse herself with the squeaks that the toy would make every time she bite down on it.

‘What?’ You asked.

‘I mean it, you’re really good with Hayley and you’ve been nothing but an amazing person with a pretty smile and addicting laugh.’ Dick adds as he held his head in his hands as he looked at you with a soft look upon his face. Dick wasn’t still that bothered that you knew how he felt, it was bound to come out sooner or later and would take it in stride, even if he didn’t have control over what had just came out of his mouth just now.

The next time Dick finds himself being truthful was when he visited Jason after a long night of patrol and in the midst of a silent period Dick then said;

‘You’re amazing Jason. Bruce doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he never did when it came to us Robins, using one of us as a frame of reference for everyone else isn’t fair but you are my friend, my brother and I am so proud of you. You are not a failure, you’re anything but one.’ Jason sat silent the entire time and after Dick had finished he made a noise from the back of his throat, a small smile gracing his face as he looked out over the streets of Gotham, reaching out to pat Dick on the shoulder and said. ‘Thanks man.’

Dick always cared deeply for Jason, seeing him as his little brother and would gladly stand in his corner no matter what, even if he was wrong because that was what older siblings did. Dick never shied away from how deeply he felt agonising pain when he though he had lost his little brother and confronted Bruce about the entire thing, enraged and grieving simultaneously. Now whenever he caught wind of what Jason was doing as red hood, he can’t help but smile knowing his brother was doing just fine, but would always make it known that he was just a phone call away.

Dick knew Alfred wasn’t going to bite his head off for saying that he didn’t like something but would instead ask how he could better it for his taste. So even if Dick did say anything about one of Alfred’s recipe, he knows Alfred would be more than understanding. However it was an unspoken rule amongst him and his siblings that they’d eat anything and everything Alfred made them without a single complaint unless it was necessary.

They all love that man too much to ever say anything negative about his cooking.

Damian would hate being forced to speak nothing but the truth.

He’d really hate it as being blunt and opinionated was how he always was and so being open and honest wasn’t his forte and it felt wrong in a sense due to it feeling as though he was put in a position of vulnerability.

He hates it even more when he finds himself confessing to all the things that he liked and or found remotely interesting about you whenever you were near, it felt as though someone was pupating him to say these things when deep down he knew they were how he genuinely felt but was too deep in denial to admit this to himself.

‘How do I look?’ You innocently asked.

‘Breathtaking like you always do so seamlessly.’ Damian replied without hesitation before looking up from his sketchbook once realisation hit him, only to see that you were already looking at him with wide eyes.

‘You mean that?’ You said, wanting to know whether or not you heard him properly.

‘Of course.’ Damian said and when he felt his mouth open, he tried to close it but it seemed as though his body had a mind of his own as he found himself continuing to speak. ‘On many occasions have I spent thinking you were naturally breathtaking and have thought so for many more on top of that to the point you are my one sole muse.’ He finished and it wasn’t long before you were planning your first date together.

Damian knew this wouldn’t be the first time he was going to be forced to speak the truth and the second time came in him actually complimenting Tim on his smarts and combat prowess, something that he’d rather drink pure poison before ever admitting out of pride.

‘Tt. Don’t sell yourself short Drake, you’re a competent Robin and an exceptional detective.’ He’d say when it was just him and Tim in the Batcave and immediately regrets it and makes him swear to secrecy, obviously this doesn’t last long after the period of speaking truthfully wears off and Damian goes back to being his blunt, straightforward, unapologetic self.

Damian loves Alfred’s cooking, but all of his cooking weren’t Damian’s favourite and while he wouldn’t hesitate to tell others how he felt, he didn’t feel the same when it came to Alfred’s cooking despite the man being nothing but kind and open minded.

So if he ever were to speak about his least favourite food Alfred had ever made and even when Alfred was more then accepting of his opinion, Damian would try to help Alfred however he could in return for his comments about his cooking. Alfred was probably one person he’d never want to hurt with his words.

[gigabyte-flare]

The Devil is Real (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: You sense there's something not right about Los Iluminados and you're determined to get to the bottom of it.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation, kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]

Your eyes slowly open to find the sun pouring into the window over by the head of the stairs. You let out a loud yawn as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head before swinging your feet over the side of the bed. Heading downstairs, you find Vince already up and making breakfast. You walk up and stand next to him.

“Anything I can help with?” you ask, leaning in to see what he’s making.

“Nah I’m good,” he replies, playfully shoving you away, “you must have been exhausted. You were already asleep when I got back to the house.”

“The jet lag finally caught up to me as soon as my head hit the pillow,” you explain as you sit at the table, “you spoke to Father Méndez I take it?”

“I did. Hopefully it helps. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome here. I know Leon is just doing his job but… you’re my sister. Making sure you’re comfortable here is my top priority.”

Vince finishes making breakfast, once again bringing two plates to the table before sitting across from me. 

You speak up once more while you’re eating, “so, what’s on the agenda today?”

“I have to help out on the farm, that’s usually what I do most days. You’re more than welcome to join me, but if you don’t, I understand.”

You nod, thinking back to your time spent living with your grandparents. They had lived on a large farm and your grandfather made the two of you do almost all the upkeep. Your brother would take care of the livestock and farm maintenance while you would tend to the garden, it was brutal work for children. Regardless of the unpleasant memories, you weren’t about to sit back and let your brother do all the work.

“Sure, I’ll help out, just let me know what needs to be done.”

Within the hour, the two of you had made your way to the farm. It is a ways away from the village, requiring another short hike to get there. Once getting there, Vince is tasked with repairing some of the farm equipment while you helped feed and groom some of the livestock. You’re in the middle of wrangling up the pigs to feed them when out of the corner of your eye, you see someone approach your brother. You recognize the cargo pants and the tight fitting black athletic t-shirt immediately and that can only mean one thing:

It’s Leon.

You avert your eyes, bringing your focus back to pouring the feed into the trough, however, you steal quick glances at Leon and your brother as they speak to each other. Leon has short blonde hair and obviously takes very good care of himself; even you could see the way the sleeve of his t-shirt forms over his biceps.

“Hey Sis, come ‘ere!” Vince calls, beckoning you to join him with a motion of his hand.

You put down the bag of feed, silently cursing to yourself before walking over, standing close to your brother when you approach. Now that Leon isn’t wearing that black cloak he had on yesterday, you’re able to get a better look at him and, holy hell, were you not prepared. Leon is incredibly handsome, easily the most handsome man you have ever laid eyes on. You found yourself unconsciously squeezing your thighs together as your eyes rake over him; taking in the way the straps of his gun harness and various belts hug his thighs, how his pectoral muscles strain against that tight shirt. And, of course, those gorgeous blue eyes.

Oh no… you think to yourself, he’s hot…

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable yesterday,” Leon begins as he holds out his gloved hand; you don’t hesitate to shake it, “I’m Leon Kennedy; I’m in charge of making sure the community is a safe place for everyone.”

His voice is as smooth as whiskey, causing your heart to race in your chest as you tell him your name, “it’s very nice to meet you Leon.”

Leon gives you a half smile which makes your heart swoon; this man is way too attractive for his own good. He must realize it because he gives you a playful wink which, thankfully, your brother missed. 

“Likewise,” Leon continues, giving your hand one more squeeze before letting go and looking to your brother “I also came over because Manuel just came in with a haul of fish from the lake, he needs help unloading the boat.”

“Of course, I’ll be right over,” Vince replies, setting down his tools.

“Is it alright if I come along?” you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets as you shift on your feet.

“Yeah of course,” Vince replies, “the dock isn’t far from here; I’d love for you to come see the lake.”

Just as your brother walks away to go to the dock, Leon gives you a pat on the side of your shoulder, giving you another playful wink as he whispers, “I’ll see you around, little bird.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch Leon walk away. The nickname he had given you goes straight to your core, causing you to clench your hands as your fingers tingle.

“Sis, are you coming or not?” Vince calls out to you some ways away from the archway leading out of the farm.

“Sorry Vince! I’m coming!” you shout as you jog over to your brother, joining him as you both make your way to the lake.

By the time you two get to the dock, several other men from the village are also there helping Manuel unload the haul from his fishing trip. Vince quickly joins them as you stand at the head of the dock. As your eyes scan over the vast lake, the sights, sounds and smells once again take you back to your childhood. To the times when you and your brother would go down to a small pond that was on your grandparents’ property to have some semblance of fun. The sound of a door opening behind you causes you to draw your attention away from the lake. 

You watch two men come out of what you can only assume is Manuel’s house carrying what appears to be a very large sack. Your gaze tracks them as they walk across the property, stopping at a cave opening that’s blocked off by a large gate. They stop at the gate as one of them goes to unlock the gate. You quickly realize that the large sack is moving violently. Once they get the gate open, they carry the sack inside, shutting and locking it behind them before disappearing into the darkness of the cave. You swallow hard as you draw your attention back to the lake, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach.

Something is very wrong about this place and you feel whatever it is, it’s behind that gate.

“Will you be ok here at the house tonight?” Vince asks over dinner.

“Yeah, why?” you ask as you take a bite out of your meal.

“We have a community gathering tonight. It will likely go well into the night. I just want to make sure you’ll be ok here by yourself.”

You look up at Vince, raising an eyebrow, “I can’t come with you?”

Vince shakes his head, “not this time. This is for members of the Los Iluminados community only.”

This only serves to unsettle you even more, especially after seeing that large sack get brought into that cave earlier that day. Not wanting to upset your brother, however, you simply swallow hard and shrug it off.

“No problem, I’ll be fine, Vince.”

“Good, thank you Sis.”

Your brother leaves the house after cleaning up, leaving you alone in the house. You take that opportunity to go up to the bedroom, settling yourself onto the bed. As you lay there, your mind wanders back to Leon and you find yourself quickly becoming hot and bothered. Taking off your jeans so that you’re just in your shirt and underwear, your hand slips under the hem of your panties, your fingers gently rubbing your clit as you lay your head back against the pillow, closing your eyes. You picture Leon perfectly, imagining it is his fingers rubbing your clit, imagining his hot breath on your ear as he leans over you.

“That’s it, little bird. Doesn’t that feel good?”

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you hear the words your mind has conjured; who would have thought a silly nickname would get you so riled up. You pick up the pace of your fingers, your hips bucking up into your hand as you chase your release. You softly moan his name over and over as your pussy walls clench around nothing, secretly wishing he was buried inside you. You then move your fingers in a circular motion rapidly and within minutes you come undone, practically screaming Leon’s name as your body convulses. In the heat of the moment, your elbow crashes into the small bedside table, causing it to tip over, causing the contents of a small drawer to spill all over the floor.

The abrupt crash immediately snaps you out of your fantasy. You sit up in the bed and stand up, picking up the items that had fallen out of the bedside table. A crudely made leather bound book catches your attention; you sit down onto the side of the bed and open it. The text inside is handwritten and you quickly realize once you start reading it that it’s your brother’s journal. You know you shouldn’t be reading it, but a part of you is hoping that it reveals what exactly is going on in this community. 

March? 2006

I’ve completely lost track of time since Josh and I were brought here. I found this notebook inside the building they brought us in, so I figured I’d use it to chronicle what’s been going on in case someone else finds it. It was Josh’s idea to go backpacking across Europe. I regret not telling my sister where I was going; she must be worried sick! 

This group, called Los Iluminados, promised us a paradise on Earth. A place for us to disconnect from the world and detox and it doesn’t take a genius to know I definitely need that. They didn’t seem very bothered by the fact that Josh is my boyfriend despite being a religious group, so that was refreshing.

You stop reading for a moment, absorbing the information you just learned. Your brother is gay. It came as a complete shock to you, however upon looking back, it’s a wonder you hadn’t realized it sooner. It certainly explains why your grandfather was especially hard on Vince. Why didn’t he tell you? You can’t help but feel hurt by the fact your brother wasn’t comfortable enough telling you. You set aside these emotions for the time being and continue to read.

They injected both of us with something, said it would help us with the detox process. And then they brought us into the basement of one of the houses. It’s almost pitch black down here, the only indication of time passing is from the faint streaks of light coming down from the floorboards. It’s a miracle I can even see what I’m writing. I feel ok, but Josh on the other hand isn’t looking good at all. He’s broken out into a rash and he won’t stop sweating. He keeps saying everything hurts. What the fuck did they inject us with?

March… Maybe April? 2006

It’s been a few days since they first locked us into this basement. I keep coughing up blood and having weird dreams, but otherwise I don’t feel too bad. Josh on the other hand isn’t doing well at all, he’s been violently convulsing and hacking up way more blood than I have. I don’t think he’s going to make it.

April 2006

They came down into the basement and took Josh, he had gotten worse from when I had written earlier. They came back later and examined my eyes, saying my blood had accepted the gift, whatever that means. They led me out of the basement and gave me one of the houses. They say I’m part of the community now. I don’t know what happened to Josh.

There are no new entries in the journal after that. You’re completely overwhelmed with emotions, both from what you learned about your brother and the implications of what happened to his boyfriend Josh. All of this just further cemented the fact that you had to find out what lies beyond that gate you saw them bring that sack into.

After picking up the mess and tucking the journal safely back inside the bedside table, you go to bed where your mind enters the realm of dreams which have been invaded by thoughts of Leon.

The next morning, your brother informs you that the two of you will be going over to Father Méndez’s house to have dinner. The house itself is grandiose, we’re immediately greeted with the large dining room table already laid out with food and drinks. The dinner itself is largely uneventful, Father Méndez asks you a lot of questions about living in the United States and how you’re liking your stay with the community. As the dinner wears on, you realize that this is a golden opportunity to try to find some answers. 

You abruptly stand up, “sorry I need to excuse myself for a moment. Where’s the bathroom, Father?”

Father Méndez motions to the archway over to the left, “through there, sweetheart.”

You smile at him and nod in acknowledgement, “thank you Father, if you excuse me…”

You walk through the archway, finding a set of stairs going up to the second floor of the house. You look over at the dinner table, waiting until Father Méndez is completely focused on your brother before silently ascending the stairs. At the top is another hallway. You carefully walk to the end of it, finding what you guess is the master bedroom, a large four poster bed immediately to your right, a dresser to the left and a small desk next to the window ahead of you.

You slowly walk up to the desk, which is covered in various papers that have words written in Spanish on them. You then open up one of the drawers and you suck in a breath at what you find. It’s an ornate key, embellished with the same weird cross symbol that you saw back at the church and, now that you think about it, the gate by the dock also had this same symbol. This key has to go to that gate, you’re sure of it. You softly close the drawer, tucking the key into your pocket.

“What are you doing in here?” you hear Father Méndez ask.

You jump as you turn around, placing your hand over your racing heart, “Father I’m so sorry! I got lost looking for the bathroom.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but then smiles at you warmly, “that’s quite alright, I wasn’t clear in my direction. It’s downstairs, the door on the right just before the back door, follow me and I can show you.”

You allow Father Méndez to lead you to the bathroom, which is quite literally a hole in a raised part of the floor. The smell coming out of it almost knocks you out. Despite this, you spend a couple minutes in there to make it convincing before you return to the dinner table, all the while fiddling with the key in your pocket.

You and your brother finish up dinner with Father Méndez, getting back home just before it gets dark. You excuse yourself and go to bed early, claiming to be exhausted from socializing. You sit on the side of the bed, twirling the key you found in your fingers as you examine it as you listen for confirmation that your brother is asleep. It takes a couple hours, but you hear the telltale signs of your brother’s snoring. Getting up from the bed, you walk over to the window over by the stairs, carefully opening it and climbing out. It leads you outside on some crude scaffolding, you quickly find a ladder to climb down. 

The waxing moon casts a gentle glow throughout the village, which you use to your advantage as you make your way to the dock area. You walk crouched, trying to use the environment to mask your movements, hoping to not draw anyone’s attention. You eventually make it to the gate, looking around before digging the key out of your pocket, putting it into the keyhole and turning. As you suspected, the key unlocks the gate with ease and you push on it gently, the gate letting out a soft squeak as it swings open. You shut the gate behind you, making your way inside the cave. 

Once you get to the back of the cave, you come across another gate, pushing it open to find a furnished room filled with various root vegetables and supplies. Upon stepping in, you’re overwhelmed by the smell of decay, bringing your shirt up over your nose to mask the smell. It doesn’t take long for you to find the source. To your right, there is a person on their knees, held up by their wrists on a rope. You hesitantly approach, finding that it’s a young woman, her skin pitch black in decay and that weird cross symbol painted on her face with blood. You fight back the bile building up in your mouth.

“I fucking knew it,” you say to yourself, “this is a fucking cult.”

You take another look around, spotting a ladder leading upwards through the floor in the back. You hesitantly approach it and begin climbing up. As you ascend to the top, you are greeted by another horror; an altar with another young woman laid onto it, her blood completely covering it. You see her hands are tied behind her back. You walk around the altar to face her. She has that same symbol painted onto her face. Her skin still has color to it, suggesting that she hasn’t been dead for very long. You begin to suspect that this woman was in that sack that you saw carried into the cave. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you hear Father Méndez’s voice boom from behind you.

You spin around and face him, he’s standing straight with his hands neatly folded in front of him.

“What the hell kind of operation do you have here?!” you shout, balling your fists, “I knew something wasn’t right about this place. I’m taking my brother, we’re leaving and reporting you to the authorities!”

A low chuckle comes out of Father Méndez, “her blood did not accept the gift. You, however, may have better luck.”

Méndez brings one hand up, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, two men that had been standing behind you grab you by your arms, twisting them behind your back as you struggle as hard as you can. You watch as Father Méndez reaches into his coat pocket, producing a large hypodermic needle. As you struggle, Father Méndez begins to approach you. Your gaze shifts to the figure standing just behind him, seeing that Leon is standing there, watching, back to wearing that large black cloak, the hood mostly obscuring his face. All you can see is a menacing smirk that is on his lips. 

“Sis calm down, it’s going to be ok!” you hear your brother, quickly realizing he is one of the men that is restraining you, “my blood accepted the gift, I’m certain yours will, too.”

“Vince!” you cry out, turning to him, “do you hear yourself? This is insane!”

Father Méndez looms in front of you, grabbing the side of your head and pushing it to expose your neck, wasting no time inserting the needle into your skin, injecting the strange liquid into your body. Whatever it is, it burns. You feel it spread across your neck as you continue to struggle, tears now flowing down your face. 

“Bring her to the holding area,” Father Méndez commands.

Without any hesitation, your brother and the man helping to restrain you bring you back down through the hole you had come up out of, carrying you out of the cave as you kick and scream. They bring you to Manuel’s house, carrying you inside. In the back of the house, there is a trap door. The other man retraining you kicks the trap door open before he and your brother gently lower you inside. Once on the ground, you scramble to your feet and stare up at the opening, seeing your brother stare down at you, only, there’s something very off about him. Black veins cover his skin and his eyes are glowing red.

“Vince, you can’t do this! You need to get me out of here!”

“I’m sorry, Sis,” he says softly before slamming the trap door shut. 

You stand there in utter shock as you hear the door being locked, trapping you in the pitch black darkness.

[xxcallmemaryxx]

IV x GN reader

IV with a little bit of separation anxiety... he just can't keep his hands off you...

He was good at keeping it together. At first anyway… when the two of you were still getting used to each other and adjusting to being together. Nights spent with him in your bed unable to keep your hands off each other, that bled into mornings with him wrapped around you as you sort some kind of breakfast out for you both. It was magical and amazing and kept a goofy smile plastered permanently on your lips. 

But there was downtime too. When he went home for a few nights. When you both needed to prioritise work for a little while. When he went away for tour and was out and about exploring the world and making unreal memories for thousands of people every night. Texts and phone calls became your usual and it was fine. You missed each other, of course, but ultimately it was doable. 

Until he changed. 

The time you’d each spend at your own houses without the other became shorter and shorter as the months went on. IV making himself very comfortable within the walls of your home, it was nice to see honestly. Knowing he felt welcomed and relaxed here was a good feeling. But then when it came time for him to go back home, he’d somehow always manage to convince you to pack a bag and stay with him for a few days then too. 

How could you ever say no to him? 

Eventually, if it came time for you to go back home again for whatever reason. He’d try everything he could to convince you to stay longer. Swearing he doesn’t mind and he wants you with him. He enjoys your presence and how warm his bed is every morning that he wakes up with you in it. 

He pouts when he realises he needs to let you leave. But tells you he’ll be seeing you again in a few days time, leaving no room for argument.

You found it endearing honestly. This beautiful man who loves to spend his time with you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered, the temptation to just stay with him everyday was very present. But you’d never get anything done if that was the case. He’s very good at keeping you buried underneath his blankets all day. 

He learnt very quickly ways that he could keep you close. Keep you around for longer. Just one more night, that turned into two more nights, that then turned into him convincing you to just stay for the rest of the week and go back home after the weekend. 

“We didn’t end up finishing that show we started… stay tonight and we’ll finish it.”

Spoiler: you don’t finish it that night either. Which IV made sure of.

“Wait, I wanted to cook that one dish for you… we completely forgot about it. Stay tonight, we can go shopping for the stuff tomorrow and then I’ll make it for dinner for us tomorrow…”

Spoiler: he starts dinner kind of late and oh! Look at the time! You might as well just stay again tonight. 

“Oh you should go home? But it’s Friday… just stay for the weekend and I’ll take you home on Sunday night.”

Spoiler: Sunday night rolls around and guess what…

“You have work in the morning? Well, if you stay tonight I’ll drive you in. You won’t have to wake up as early if I take you…”

Spoiler: guess who opts to pick you up from work that afternoon. And oh look at that… you’re back at his house again that night too. 

He begins to run out of ideas though, he can only “forget” to do so many things with you while you’re staying with him. And the panic sets in when he sees you starting to get your stuff together and he can’t think of anything to get you to stay again. 

He knows he has to deal with it. He can’t force you to stay. He wants you to come back. He wants you to want him to come back to your house, and if giving you time on your own is what you need then he’ll give it to you. 

But when he comes back home to a quiet, empty house… he can’t help the tightness that grows in his chest. He locks up for the night and makes his way to bed. The sheets still a mess, just how the two of you left them earlier that day. And his throat constricts when he crawls back underneath them alone. It’s cold. It’s quiet. It’s dark in there. He grabs the pillow you slept on, hugging it into his chest and curling himself around it. He closes his eyes and pretends it’s you he’s curled around instead. Burying his face into it and breathing in, he can still smell you on it. He huffs and reaches for his phone, already typing out the words ‘I miss you’ before he even double checks who he’s sending it too. And he lays awake all night, long after you’ve said your goodnights, feeling just… off. He feels weird. He’s unsettled and he’s tense and he just can’t rid the pit that’s sat steady in his stomach since he got home. 

It gets worse though.

You notice after a while that he cannot for the life of him keep his hands off you. Constantly holding yours. Constantly holding your hips. Constantly resting on your legs when he pulls them onto his lap. (Which is always, if he’s not already snuggled up behind you on the couch.) You’ve caught him a few times with your hands in his, playing with your fingers, massaging your knuckles, running his fingers over the back of your hand. Or kneading the meat of your thighs between his hands absentmindedly. Not even trying to suggest anything, not trying to get you worked up, but genuinely just content because his hands are on you. 

Do you think you can enter another room on your own? Wrong. You can’t. 

Because IV will follow you through the house, around every room and back again. 

The washing machine is done? You need to go hang out clothes? IV’s hand is in yours and you’re walking to the laundry together.

Oh you’re hungry? Need to start on dinner? IV is snuggled against your back as you get stuff ready the whole time. 

Sitting down to eat dinner together, and you dare sit opposite him? He’s playing footsie with you underneath the table. Which will turn into him grabbing your foot and planting it on his lap so he can keep his hand on your ankle the whole time. 

Is he naturally just a touchy feely person? Yes. Yes he is.

But just the thought alone of having to go days without you around drives him nuts. He can’t do it. He feels sick. He can’t sleep. He can barely eat. He needs your presence to function. 

He ponders the thought of driving to your house, packing all your stuff and moving you into his house more often than he’d be willing to admit. You’re with him enough as it is already. You might as well just stay forever right?

.

.

.

MASSIVE CREDITS TO MY POOKIE @ghostlygothicgay !!!!

He gave me this idea, and then we ran rampant with it in our messages.

if you're an IV whore like me, give him a follow, he's so fun to talk too!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for not inviting my friends friend to my wedding?

👰‍♀️

We’re all women in our mid 20s. I have this friend Fran* who I was friends with in hs lost contact and re-connected with. Fran js friend with Tisha who I was friends with middle school and some of hs and not gonna lie I ghosted her (I’ll explain later.) Fran and Tisha are super close.

I got engaged recently. And I’ve been planning a wedding. Fran likes wedding stuff and wants to watch the process with me. However she’s been inviting Tisha to our lunches without telling me Tisha is gonna be there. It’s uncomfortable because when they ask about my wedding Tisha always has something to say. “I’m thinking about a spring wedding” “the weather is awful here in the spring time” (example).

So for some info. When in school Tisha started using me as a butt a lot of jokes as the years went on. She was always trying to call me dumb, and project her insecurities on Me. (Tisha does/did have a hard life). I ended up telling Tisha some issues I was going through and later she used it to make a joke saying I was dumb for letting that sorta stuff happen to me (not super dark but still a dick move). She loved to use me as a therapist in private and love to make fun of me in public. Something snapped in me, and every time she was be rude to me I’d say something like “that’s a weird thing to say” or is look her up and down and just make a face. When she’d asked to cheat off my papers I’d tell her she wouldn’t want to cheat off my stupid answers. I was lucky I had other friends that I just hung out with to avoid her. She never asked for answers and I never expected her to.

I went to college far away, lived away for awhile and then moved back to work at a start up that has been awesome.

When I reconnected with Fran it was awesome. We mutually reached out since we both liked the same restaurants in the area.

Fran would try to get me to wanna hangout with Tisha and try to plan something and I told her that Tisha is a good person, but I don’t really need to reconnect with her. She would “respect” that until later she would ask again. I never told her the details because I still questioned if I was being too sensitive or not about Tisha. Not gonna lie I do pity Tisha and I hate the idea that someone like that ever did intimidate me. She’s just a reminder that I was ever awkward. Fran hasn’t asked me for the whole story. However I couldn’t avoid Tisha forever. Fran would throw a party and Tisha was there. And I knew she would be. And she was the same.

Tisha fran and I are all bisexual. When I’d hang out with them they’d sometimes refer to me as a lesbian or a wasted lesbian because now I’m marrying a man. I’d tell ‘em I’m uncomfortable with that since I’m bisexual. Fran respected it, Tisha would “forget”.

Tisha dropped out of college and I did for a bit. I told her I did the same and she would just tell me the career she was doing was so much harder than mine that I couldn’t understand how hard her life is. (It was a hard program, and she does have a hard life but again it’s that “I have it worse Olympics”) Tisha even made a joke that I got a job I wanted and I didn’t even needed to finish my college program for it since I got the job before I got my degree. I just said yeah I’m a quick learner.

I don’t see Tisha much, maybe 3 times a year before. So I just figured I’d roll with the punches because I love Fran she is awesome. Tisha kinda brings fran down too. They both kinda enable each other to be down in their dumps. They’re not dating but they’re like each others plus ones. I’ve been helping fran budget, opening new banking accounts and getting a credit card that’s good for her. Fran was grateful and tisha heard she said we were bowing our heads to capitalism.

Anyway ever since I got engaged fran has been brining Tisha everywhere. I had planned on telling fran privately, I don’t want it hanging out with Tisha, but also Tisha is not coming to my wedding. Before I could do that, while we were at lunch, TISHA MADE THE ASSUMPTION SHE WAS A BRIDES MAID.

I asked her why did she think that and she said we’ve been friends longer than fran and I. I said you’re not invited, we don’t talk privately, we don’t text, we don’t hang out, and you don’t like my fiancé because he’s a man. Fran was shocked and said couldn’t Tisha be her plus one and it’s uncofortable to talk about events someone isn’t invited to. I said that they both have been asking about it. The lunch ended.

Fran has been asking me to consider letting Tisha ve her plus one since dating is hard. Tisha thought the things I mentioned were objectives so now she is texting me, and said she wants to meet my fiancé to get to know him so she can go to the wedding.

I was trying to be nice by never mentioning to fran I really hate Tisha, but now they’re both upset and I regret not being mean. I feel like an asshole.

[nisimultifandom]

dark!Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings- MDNI, dark content, power imbalance, mean!rafe, slapping

A/N - finally back, enjoy

——————————————————————————

You were laying in bed when Rafe came storming through the door with Papers in his hand, you couldn’t tell by his face whether it was good or bad news. It was always a surprise and you of course just had to roll with it

,,here” you looked at the papers which he threw in his bed with a confused look, you would need more Information than that, but fortunately he got the hint before you had to say anything

,,These are enrollement papers, i want you to go to school in Tanneyhill”

You were silent for a while, trying to gather up the right words to use without ticking him off, his face was rather stern but there wasn’t much of any emotion, he just waited for your response with his hands on his hips, which made him look more intimidating than he already was

,,But I already go to school on the other side of town, I have all my friends here and I’m happy with it” Rafe got more serious at that, also gathering his words before exploding too fast

,,You go to a pogue school, with pogues, this is a private school for people who will get something from life”

You frowned at that, feeling yourself get a little bit angry, Rafe not only insulted your friends but your family too

,,Rafe, everyone in my Family went to that school, went on to college and made something of themselves, I can’t believe you would say such things" you took a quick breath ,,I don't wanna switch schools"

A mocking grin appeared on his face at that ,,Im sorry i don't recall asking you, i'm telling you, you're changing schools"

you stood up from the bad wanting to be at the same length as him, knowing it would easier to get to you if you're lying down. He frowned at that before licking his teeth, knowing you were about to challenge him

,,And I’m telling you that I’m not changing schools, and you’re not in the position to deci-“ he grabbed you chin before you got to finish the sentence, taking all bravery out of you ,,Y/n…I don’t think you don’t know what position you’re in in this relationship”

,,Do I need to remind you?” You contemplated if a busted lip was worth the trouble and…,,Oh please, big bad Kook prince, show me what you got, it’s all you’ve ever known” his breath flared at that, his blue eyes now a darker shade an you knew if you didn’t stop it wouldn’t end good for you

,,Y/n” he states ,,you’re just scared that if I don’t switch school I’ll end up fucking a pogue” you weren’t schocked when you found yourself on the ground, with a piercing pain in your cheek

,,You disrespectful slut, I thought of doing you a favour didn’t know you had it in you to actually fuck some pogue” you let out a cry when he grabbed the back of your head ,,stand up” your body was working against you but your brain was trying to help you think straight

,,I said stand up” he shook you up by your ponytail, finally finding the strength to stand up, but too late as he already had other plans when he kicked the back of your legs, making you fall to your knees

,,can’t even follow some orders I see, do I need to remind you of your place?” You shook your head no, trying not to disturb his mood ,,answer when I’m talking to you”

,,No Rafe, I-I think I learned my lesson” he swiped the tears from your cheek, smirking down at you ,,You think?”

,,I know I did, I’m sorry”

,,Good, cause next time I won’t be as nice” he whispers in your ear

,,Why do you need to control everything?“ you ask looking down at him through the hair stuck to your face

,,Because you and I both know who makes the money, who takes care of everything“ he goes on ,,If not for me you wouldn’t even survive this fucked up world“ you were shocked at his words, the only person he should be protecting you from, is himself

,,I don’t need a full time babysitter, I’ve been doing just fine on my own” you let out through gritted teeth , Rafe let’s out a groan at that

,,I would advice you to shut the fuck up before I do something I regret” he shouts at you, taking a hold of your hair again, making you let out a pained sob. You try to find comfort in him, by taking a hold of his thighs, at that he raises an eyebrow

,,I-I’m sorry, let’s just stop fighting” trying to gather your words through the pain in your throat was harder than anticipated, the corner of his lip forms a smirk and he’s picking you up from the ground to put his arms around you

,,Stupid girl, next time I tell you to do something, don’t fix your lips to disagree me,got it?” You nod, stuffing your wet face in his polo shirt. Trying to stand up to Rafe was a mistake, one that shouldn’t be repeated again, but if you ever felt rebellious again he would make sure to remind you where you really stand.

[butt0nzz66]

Part 2 theories

So like everyone I have been brain rotting over part one and the trailer for part 2! I am firmly in the living for the season camp, although would never so no to more Polin lol.

As an anxious girlie (who is equal parts dreading and excited for the LW fallout) that preview gave me heart palpitation's 🫡. So I have been scouring all four corners of the web for spoilers and I have a theory for part 2, leave now to not be spoiled!

I don’t think this clip from the promo is the mirror scene and they are faking us out…. Shocking I know.

So we also see this dress here:

Which some internet sources report is from episode 5 when Colin has a major bust up with Portia and then he takes Pen to see their new house. At which Pen is very emotional because nobody has ever stood up for her before and they ahem… finish what they started in the carriage. 😱😱

Also before anyone says I know the hair is different, however you show me anyone who’s hair stays perfectly in place after having their shit rocked by their sexy pirate fiancé who just ripped ya mum a new one.

This is all supposedly before their wedding and before Colin discovers LW and I don’t think the mirror scene will happen before this point. Which would also make sense as the most anticipated scene I don’t think Netflix would want to spoil it in the trailers, baring maybe the carriage scene which was also noticeably absent from all P1 promo (maybe even more anticipated seeing as it doesn’t happen in the book and is only referenced as boob man Colin’s fantasy (can you blame him)). As well as the connotations of what the mirror scene represents, it doesn’t make narrative sense to put it before she reveals every part of herself to him and he reaffirms that he adores every part of her. At the very least I am manifesting this because I’ll cry if it is before 🙃.

So that being said I think this is a fake out showing their first time in their new home in ep 5 that ISNT the mirror scene which would come in maybe ep 7 or 8 following LW Fallout.

So thanks for coming to my ted talk or better described as a theorising ramble so I don’t loose my actual marbles over the next 4 weeks (I’m at a big old age of 8 and twenty and I can’t be doing with this stress hun okay I have a full time job and responsibilities, I can’t be obsessing like I’m 16 again).

Basically I see you Netflix and if I’m right you are honour bound to let meeeee seeeeee now or pistols at dawn! Or if someone has seen it just dm me a thumbs up so I can at least be smug for the next 25 days.

Thoughts, comments, concerns come freak out with me .

[villtura]

vash (who is normal) and his brother knives (also normal)

[bolotosd]

I’m such a whore for her I swear

[kateyui]

added a background to that spirit

[hekateinhell]

Vamptember, Day 8

Armand/Daniel | Rating: M | Prompt: Movie | Word Count: 1897?

It started innocently enough, as these things were wont to do.

A similar curiosity that had driven twelve-year-old Daniel to hide in the closet with a flashlight and his father’s old nudie mags, now engulfed Armand—without the tempestuous cocktail of adolescent hormones and rages added in.

Perhaps.

Armand picking up Playboy at the newsstand. “These breasts… they appear different than they did in my day.”

“It’s plastic surgery, Armand.”

Armand picking up Playgirl at the convenience store. “Daniel, the men of today are remarkably well-endow-”

“Armand, please.”

Then came the sex shops. “What is this for?”

“It’s a butt plug, Armand.”

“But why would you want-”

“It feels good. Or so I’ve heard. And no.”

The porn theaters. “How intriguingly obscene,” he smiled. “An act for the public.”

Finally, the poor unfortunate souls Daniel was made to bed. Bitter yet proud, he performed as his puppeteer commanded. Armand in the background, in his own home theater—different film each time with an original cast.

Such a sweet murmur in Daniel’s head. “So beautiful, my Daniel. So strong, so hot-blooded.”

Ah, Armand loved his little jabs, didn’t he? Hot-blooded, indeed.

Not like Armand.

“And you’re a fucking cold-blooded cobra,” Daniel snapped as soon as Armand pushed their guest out of the door with a satisfied smile and a nod, like he’d just come out on top of brokering some covert deal.

And Daniel would never be quite sure if Armand used these exploits to live through him, or if he instead fancied himself the man or woman he’d hand-picked for the evening’s entertainment. Or both. Or neither.

Armand was a giving lover on occasion, having been no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh once upon a time. At least Daniel assumed, based on the obvious.

One early evening in a Vegas hotel, Daniel let Armand drag him out of bed. Shave him, shower him, offer him a piece of white bread and an apple from the room service tray.

“You will not require a doctor if you consume this fruit, correct?” Teasing, holding it out as if the red apple alone could atone for the drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, the nocturnal lifestyle Armand forced on him.

Armand stared as Daniel brought the apple to his mouth and bit in. The crunch sounding loud in the hotel room, the juice running down his chin. Armand lunged over the glass table and wiped it away with a curl of his index finger.

As it so often did when Armand moved at a superhuman speed, Daniel’s brain reacted by staggering everything else around them in slow-motion to compensate for the difference.

His mind was still on a stuttering lag when Armand announced, “I want to make a pornographic film.”

Daniel choked.

“What?”

Armand had the animated glow in his eyes that promised nothing good, coming to sit beside him on the red velvet sofa, sliding his hand up Daniel’s thigh, his glassy nails grazing the silk fabric. “I want to make a film like the ones they sell in your provocative little shops.”

“Oh yeah, and who will you be? Bystander number three?” Daniel quipped, irritated. Resenting the reminder that his body didn’t belong to him, not anymore. The bits of apple in his mouth felt gritty, ashy.

Armand laughed, so hard it almost sounded like he would have to catch his breath. Of course, he wouldn’t. A sound Daniel loved because it made Armand sound human; a sound he hated because his brain the reminded that Armand’s inhumanity was, in fact, what he loved most about him.

“You misunderstand me, darling. I want you and I in the starring roles, and I want to record it and watch it on the television afterwards.”

Armand’s messing with him, had to be.

Daniel had seen Armand naked, touched him—if not intimately, then in intimate places.

But it’s oddly clinical, Armand laying there motionless while Daniel tries desperately to incite some recollection of a passion or response from him.

Craving the validation of… something.

Poking, prodding, kissing, and licking until he gets frustrated to the brink of alcohol-and-barbiturate-induced tears, and Armand throws him a bone and guides him up to his neck.

“There, there, my beautiful boy, it’s not all bad. This, at least, contains a semblance of life.” Daniel nuzzling against Armand’s pale throat, licking at the tiny wound he has made for him, whimpering like a pathetic infant while Armand strokes his hair.

Armand wanted to film that, watch it on repeat like on twelve different screens he had Blade Runner, with nonstop commentary?

He could just go straight to Hell, probably had a 5-star penthouse suite waiting for him.

“It’s too early for your goddamned shit, Armand,” Daniel took a swing of his beer, bent down so his face was mere inches away from Armand’s seemingly innocent one.

Wagged a finger right under Armand nose, like he was scolding an obnoxious child. Derogatory, disrespectful, dangerous, and he knew it.

Yet, the deafening alarm bells that would’ve once told him to get his hand the fuck away from the crocodile’s mouth had long ago eroded from sheer neglect.

Let Armand bite.

Daniel wanted him to.

Armand didn’t seem bothered and unfortunately, Daniel knew good and well when Armand was bothered. He stared up at him with his usual unique mixture of mild boredom and genuine amusement. Lips parted, allowing his tongue to peek out and graze his bottom lip—a house-cat that’s had the same feathered toy shaken in his face.

“It’s my morning hour too, Daniel,” Armand breathed out, patient and affectionate. Placating.

Merciful today, huh?

“And I say it is not too early.”

And what Armand says, goes.

Daniel wasn’t so drunk that it wasn’t starting to make sense… Armand loved filming all sorts of things. Interviews with random people on the street, himself staring at the camera for hours on end, his hair growing back in his sleep. So, of course, why wouldn't he want to create a film like this? It was the natural course.

“Fuck you, Armand.” It's sort of a joke when he says it.

Armand clapped his hands together, a gesture Daniel’s come to associate as having the fraught potential to translate into raw meat smoothies and pet store mice being flushed down the toilet, amongst other, far worse things.

“Yes beloved, that’s the whole point!”

—

Armand’s completely naked and Daniel’s a twenty-five-year-old—of course, he stares, shamelessly.

“Daniel? Daniel?” Armand’s tinkering with the video camera. They’re both bare-assed on the bed, Daniel leaning against the headboard, Armand by his legs, sitting up, frowning with a perplexed expression on his face.

He handed Daniel the bulky thing, “Tell me what you suppose is the best angle to capture the point of insertion.”

The point of-

Daniel snorted, borderline choked again. Armand loathed being laughed at but sometimes it simply couldn’t be helped. He glanced at Armand’s artificially flushed face, thrilling at the rosiness in his lips and cheeks—more than one person died for that—and was surprised to see the corners of his mouth quirking up, barely, as if he were seeing the humor in this too.

A certain self-conscious sort of curiosity and excitement that reminded Daniel of his first time. And in a way, it was—his first time fucking a vampire.

Christ.

Armand stared at him, a slight lift to his auburn eyebrows, as if he couldn’t and wasn’t presently reading the thoughts rattling around Daniel’s skull.

“It will be my first time fornicating with a human since I have been one myself.” Those words actually come out of Armand’s mouth in a soft murmur, accompanied by a filthy smirk that passes as soon as it comes.

And now Daniel’s alert, because that’s a lot of information packed into one monotone sentence. Information that Daniel isn’t sure what to do with, what Armand wants him to do with.

Armand’s so cavalier, coming to kneel on the bed, summoning him closer with a languid wave of his right hand, rings flashing in the bright light of the hotel suite.

He’s figured out the camera now, standing with his back to Daniel while he adjusts the tripod a little to the left, a little more to the center, just right.

Daniel’s reclining on the a pile of red satin pillows, wishing to God he had a cigarette in his mouth right now. He should be fucking esacstic, borderline delirious with arousal right now. Fucking Armand had become a fanstay that lurked just out of reach when Armand came to lay naked beside him after the evening’s entertainment had departed or been disposed of for the leaving.

Daniel learned not to question when Armand deigned to escort their guests back on to the street instead of merely to the front door. A wicked, playful glint in his dark eyes when he would return from the streets, his clothes slightly rumpled, smoothing down his hair.

He could have done that before entering; he opted to right himself in front of Daniel—the implication as heavy and loaded as Daniel imagined the fresh, warm blood now surging through his lover’s body, his heart. His cold, dead heart.

“Not cold right at this moment, Daniel,” Armand sighed, bringing Daniel’s hand to rest over his bare chest, above the heart pumped full of stolen blood.

“I can feed you, sustain you,” Daniel had whispered once, reverent, almost possessive��not realizing in the moment how naive he sounded. “Oh, my Daniel…,” Armand looked almost mournful, as he dragged the sharp edge of a nail through the dark blond hairs on Daniel’s chest, his nostrils flaring as beads of blood blossomed to the surface.

“How sweet,” he mused, bending down to lick up the trail he’d made from Daniel’s abdomen to his clavicle. “How I wish that you could. I would love that your blood alone could nourish me.”

The Armand in Daniel’s memory, sucking at his skin to absorb the last taste of blood—the Armand that had crawled behind him naked to wrap his arms around Daniel’s middle, caging him to himself—seemed absent tonight.

There was no sensuality in his words, no captivated delight in his eyes, none of the inherent seduction in his movements. And when Armand straddled his thighs, handing Daniel a small bottle of lube, did the nasty thoughts start to take hold in Daniel’s mind—this was a project to Armand, as detached and clinical as dissecting a household appliance.

As divorced from intimacy as he was staring himself aimlessly in a funhouse mirror, eyes enormous and unblinking, head tilted to the side, lips barely parted for the breaths he forgot to take.

“Do it,” Armand commanded.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Daniel shook his head, trying to break up the thought that hasn’t fully registered yet to the point that Daniel might not be able to perform.

Oh, heaven help him if that were to happen. As he lubed up two fingers, Daniel considered the possibilities: would Armand decide to give him a larger dose of the Blood over the couple droplets he usually offered, so little yet just enough to bestow upon Daniel his ritual communion?

Would Armand instead request Daniel consume a chemical aphrasodic, coke or ecstasy at the ready?

Armand rolled over onto his back, pulling his knees up to his chest in a motion that’s too fluid, too instinctive. Daniel’s stomach flipped but he’s been subdued, broken in for now. A docile pet.

A hidden warmth in Armand's eyes starting to make itself known. Not so clinical after all, perhaps.

Good boy, Daniel.

[creativitwin]

i don’t know if anything will beat the feeling i had during april 2020. i was heavily hyperfixated on tss and especially the creativitwins, and then thomas dropped the roman playlist. to this day 3 years later i still think about it

second song on that playlist was wonderboy by tenacious d and i was immediately like ‘haha that sounds like that’s about remus. cool how they team up in the end’ but oh well, i didn’t think that much about it in that moment. the song can easily be about virgil too

i’m vibing to the rest of the songs and then humility by gorillaz comes on and. did the song straight up say twin??? bro that fucking song is about remus. that song is about remus there is no way around it.

i’m not smart enough to directly analyze the songs (plenty of people have already done so. here’s my favorite one) but all i can say is holy fuck yippie doodle this shit still makes me ballistic.

i mean in the series all roman seems to show is hate for remus!! looking at remus is like looking into a funhouse mirror, he’s literally his biggest insecurity, his biggest fear. and yet, (correct me if i’m wrong) i don’t even think there’s a song on there that even implies his hatred of remus. the playlist is all about how he wants to be free of his morality restrictions..

idek man. if the day comes in 2050 when the creativitwins reconcile i will be there in the first row.

oh and also. fun fact about the wonderboy song (and also the entire roman playlist)? thomas and joan purposefully made roman’s playlist into 5 sections: i want songs, character establishment, rising action, climax, and falling action. they didn’t specify how exactly these sections were split up* but that doesn’t even matter. wonderboy is the SECOND song in the playlist, meaning it’s definitely an I Want song. do with this information what you will

*ok if you want my opinion, theres 20 songs, and 5 sections. the math would show that each section would consist of 4 songs, and i think this definitely holds up with the vibes of the songs, too.

conclusion: ieirjrwndijekwfowhhdeh idk. roman and remus are the twins ever and the only main reason i still care about sanders sides after all this time.

[omaano]

Can I just say that I really like his face here and like this?🥺

[entropys]

:-) things are getting better september truly is a month of new beginnings

[lieutenant-amuel]

It’s so funny how people usually wonder about how writing long chapters, while I start having my eye twitched when I see a 6k words count and realize I’m still far away from finishing.

How do you all write short stories tell me your secrets.

[trollbreak]

Man I need an unhappy but stubborn marriage ship huh

[chisatowo]

My mom is going to take him to the vet. He probably won’t come back