#Vampirate's musings

[sounds-gay-im-in]

FUUUUKKKK YYYEEEEESSSSSS!!!!! OH MY GOOOODD!!,,!!

I just spent an about hour and a half trying to get this before it left(I don't know when it leaves) from like 300 boops to 1000. I would like to thank my moots and random strangers on the internet for this

Mwah! Love you all 💖💘💞💕❤��🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜🤎🖤🩶🤍🤟🫶🙏

[shamebats]

When vampires are portrayed as mainly preying on women that's so unrealistic like I'm sorry but they're too careful especially around strange men. Dudes are much easier. You could literally lurk in a bush in the park at night and call out "whoa look at this fucked up looking squirrel" and have 3 grown men climb in immediately

[erebus0dora]

i can't choose one, so let's have both, i guess..?

«I am the Devil's Minion, and he grants my every wish.»

brb here when i get some proper sleep for i still have a wish to rant on Eric Bogosian being actually a scary smart researcher in my bloodstream

[angrybubbles]

Old Man Daniel being a survivor of the AIDS epidemic means so much to me.

Like

Here is this grumpy old man who is dismissive of his queer experiences. It was a place to get high. Fulfilling the social contract. An excuse, that's all. He's into counter cultures after all.

But Louis and Armand changed his life forever.

Should Devil's Minion have happened in the past, that crosses into the AIDS epidemic. San Francisco, the beating heart of the gay community in America in the 70s, a ghost town in the 80s. That's where we run into Daniel. He would get into a relationship that meant death for so many. Running away from the monster that he loves that could symbolize his own sexuality. Finally embracing it when he realizes the monster is what he finds fascinating. The fear is what makes it worth it. The only relationship he dedicated himself to a man, the one that would have convinced him he loved men too. That it wasn't just for the high.

In the books, Daniel didn't make it. He was sick, and dying. Could he have died of AIDS? In the arms of his male lover? It's open to interpretation. He was turned, stuck forever in his early 30s and a ghost of his former self.

But Old Man Daniel? Who wrote a book called The Shadow on The Skin about the crisis because those were his people. The people he knew, even if now he could pretend he was never a part of it. He can claim he was just an observer.

But if vampirism is a metaphor for queerness... if Devil's Minion did happen... this is an queer elder. One who survived because they were shoved in the closet by the one who loved them. Because they loved them alive more than dead. Because some of the people who made it did so because they were there for support, because the fear was too much.

Rolin Jones you have the opportunity of a lifetime.

[quinnquatria]

I just really appreciate amc’s iwtv for taking the source material so lovingly into their arms and saying “I will make you so much more interesting”

[writerformanymuses]

I have a favorite, and she's the meme queen

[daisyfield98]

[yaekiss]

o. okay. vampire brainrot blurbs part two.

because of castrum kremnos' pomegranate juice representing blood, you don't find it odd when mydeimos— your mydei— eyes up your neck on the warmer days where your turtlenecks and necklaces are switched out for tank tops and sweat that rolls down your face and neck... he hears nothing but the pumping of blood up the jugular vein, your panting after a hard day's work, the frustrated growl when your procrastination gets the better of you. you know mydei can help with that, right? just follow him to his room, focus only on the deep and satisfied groans he lets out at the exquisite taste of your blood. how could he resist when your fingers splay over his back or when your nails dig in to his strong shoulders? how could he resist when the taste bursts upon his tongue like the pomegranates he oh so adores?

bladie is a tsundere, for lack of a better word. he loves the attention you give him, but rarely do you get more than a hitching of his breath or a stutter in his words when you're looking. unfortunately for bladie, the red in his warm cheeks give him away every time, no matter if it's from you feasting/feeding from his thighs or purring lewd promises into his sharp ears. he may look away and scoff some nonsense about how you simply must stop this perverse routine, but you know better. you know bladie better than he thinks, so you know that he loves when you spoon him, attention only on him as you feed only on him, speak only to him.

dan heng is an equal, truly. you share glasses together in the cool breeze of a summer's evening often, and neither of you feel a wanting for more. it's comfortable living with him in your life: there is no hunger, for blood nor food, there is no yearning when your love is but a mere room away. human or not, dan heng there for you just as you are for him: a bared neck to feed from, a glass of blood to share in slow kisses, a wonderful lap warmer if he feeds from you.

𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔 - 𝒑𝒕. 𝟐

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Subby! Mydei, Subby! Blade, Subby! Dan Heng (separate), no gendered terms for reader, vampire! AU, blood and biting, a mix of fluff and smut for Blade's and Dan Heng's parts, brief mention of a handjob (reader giving) in Dan Heng's part, lmk if I missed anything! ꩜ A/N: MORE VAMPIREPOSTING YAHOOOO! about 1k to be exact. this one is a lot more errr fluff and feelings than I expected it to be, I think mydei's one is the raunchiest one while dan heng's is the fluffiest one (there's still smut ofc dw) HOPE THIS IS NICE orz... I don't know if I'm that good at writing more intimate feelings fluff content >< ꩜ Adjoining Rooms: Part 1 (Childe, Kaveh, Diluc)

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟓: 𝑴𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒊 ꒷꒦ Human!Reader x Vampire!Mydei ꒦꒷

Mydei always has something to look forward to when he's around you, regardless of the climate or season

If it's a colder day and you have a turtleneck or a scarf on to keep the chill out, he can't wait until the both of you are back at home, where the temperatures are perfectly nice and cozy. Indoors, it's finally warm enough that you can shed the layers you've been bundled in (by none other than your sweet Mydei for the fear of catching a cold). The both of you settle in for the night after a day outside and he, at last, has unfettered access to teasing and biting at your neck. Alternating between mischievous nips along where your pulse bounds the hardest and heated kisses pressed to your skin, Mydei can't get enough of you at all,,,,

Warmer days. You've said it all pulpie!! Urgh can you imagine him soothing you over your frustration (the unbearable heat of the daytime definitely didn't help your mood). Mydei's nothing but honeyed affection as he leads you to your shared bedroom. He already has everything prepared on a side table. Curiously, a goblet of pomegranate juice is there too, a vibrant scarlet. Temptingly, he sets himself onto your lap before he helps himself to the feast at the crook of your neck, laving over the area first, only then does he bite down. You get to hear his breathy pants right next to your ear, groaning low at the taste of you on his tongue. Then suddenly, he licks over the puncture mark one last time before pulling back. Your confusion only doubles when he grabs the goblet and tips it until the red is spilling over from his clavicle down down down way past his torso. He guides your head over to his neck, mirroring his position earlier. You can hear the rising hunger in his voice.

"Don't you want to see just how sweet I can be for you too? Go on, bite down."

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟒: 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Human!Blade ꒦꒷

He gets so blushy when you ask him to keep his legs apart so that you can drink from his inner thighs ("Surely there's somewhere less... perverse." A lot of talk for someone who's not kicking you away.)

His muscles jump when he feels your lips brush across the sensitive zone there, a hand caressing up his calf as if to rile him up even more. As you lean in again to sink your fangs in, all his senses hone in onto those two points.

"I swear, ah, this is the last... time I let you- hah... do this to me!"

(Your Bladie has said this many many times before in the past. How many times has he unwrapped the bandage around his right thigh for you? How many times have you caught him staring breathlessly at you when you feed from him?)

But there's also something so indescribably intimate about the whole ordeal, regardless of how repetitive it has gotten. Your eyes flick up and catch his hand fisting and toying with the sheets beneath him. Time to wrap mealtime up for now.

You leave a trail of kisses from the side of his calf up to where you were drinking from. Then, you shift your body so that he rests comfortably in your arms. With this arrangement, you're even more aware of the thundering pace of his heartbeat when you're pressed closely to him. Taking one of his hands into yours, you entwine your fingers, thumb idly tracing circles on the back of his palm

Cooing praises into his ears, fond amusement fills you as you watch the tips of his ears turn even more pink. He scoff under his breath but he doesn't move to pull away from you

The hand in yours squeezes tight, promising not to let you go, so you have to promise to do the same with him

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟑: 𝑫𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒈 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Vampire!Dan Heng ꒦꒷

Dan Heng feels like he got truly lucky to meet someone who complements him so well. He doesn't know how to explain it but he's in a sort of paradoxical state where he's so at ease and sated with you that he wants for nothing and everything at the same time

Whether you fill the silence in his room with lighthearted chatter, or the two of you simply work on your own projects in comfortable silence, Dan Heng can't help but smile softly whenever you're near him

On special occasions, you two like to share some glasses of blood. Over time, you've learnt each other's preferences, be it for blood type or food to pair it with. The breeze on his skin is nice as you spend the nighttime watching the stars, but he'd much rather stare at you instead. (If he could still blush, you'd note how rosy his cheeks are even in the dimmed lighting.)

There's no need to go through the whole awkward "I'm somehow a vampire" thing with a fellow vampire. You don't pry when he's not ready to reveal his past, and you listen when he does. He's infinitely grateful to have someone who gets him at such a personal level.

The both of you spend the nights in each others room rather often, he realises. This thought pleases him, his eyes curving up slightly into crescents while you're currently mouthing at his jugular, the sharp points of your teeth scraping across his skin but never breaking past it. A pleasant heat builds up in him when he feels your hand snaking from his chest, to his abdomen, and further down still. He grinds lazily against your palm, quiet moans slipping past his lips.

"What are you thinking about that's got you smiling like that?" You ask, incentivising him to answer with the promise of release as you swipe your thumb against the tip of his cock.

"You already know the answer to that," he rolls his eyes in faux exasperation, the arms he has around you hugs you closer to him, until he's able to tuck his face in a slot between the both of you.

"It's always just you."

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[anon-nee]

Dinner

Vampire Silco! Inspired by @constantfragmentation and their Nosferatu Silco fanfiction as well as @silcoitus showing me fashion from the Dracula ballet!

[vampire-in-the-corner]

i need to think about AMC Armand for a minute. About his passivity. I find it frustrating as a viewer, but I’m also deeply compelled by it. His most infuriating trait is what makes him so interesting. When he says “I could not prevent it,” I don’t think that he sees that as a lie. It’s not the truth, but I think he believes it. He’s so powerful and could at so many points take agency in the narrative, yet he chooses inaction. He lets Lestat destroy the cult, lets the Paris coven hold the trial, lets Louis kill them after, lets Daniel uncover the truth. He accepts whatever happens to him and makes it his life regardless of whether or not it’s what he wanted.

Claudia is a foil to this nature. She’s not the most powerful, but she always takes an active role in her own story. She makes her own choices even when they put her at risk. It’s why I don’t think the two of them ever could have gotten along; their natures are inherently opposed to one another. Even their similarities drive them apart—they both hate the reflections of themselves that they see in one another because of how their mirror reacts to trauma.

[moonstruck-muses]

TASTE OF HEAVEN | nsfw

SUMMARY: You're head over heels for your boyfriend, if only you could realize the truth he's been hiding from you about his true nature. (Minimal plot)

Pairing: vampire!jake x afab reader

minors dni!

notes: this is, without a doubt, the most self indulgent thing I've ever written. I also can't remember if/when the last time I wrote something so explicit was. You can thank Josie (@pprodsuga) for that.

word count: 6.1k

content descriptions under cut

would love a reblog and comment <3

content warnings: fingering, oral sex (receiving), descriptions of blood, hypnotism/minor gaslighting, unprotected sex/creampie

<3 <3 <3 <3

He sits by the window, still in his suit from earlier. One long leg is crossed over the other as he swirls a dark liquid around in a whisky glass. He’s pensive, and the moonlight and city lights streaming in from the floor to ceiling panes cuts across him like he’s in a photographer’s studio, waiting to be captured in time. He’s distant from everyone and everything, lost in another planet. But every time you see him, you swear he was taken out of a painting, his beauty breathtaking. It’s a mesmerizing spell you can never quite seem to break.

Every time you’re alone with Jake, you feel like you’re dancing around something untouchable. It’s just hard to pinpoint what exactly. After all, for all intents and purposes Jake’s the perfect boyfriend. He always listens to you intently, cocking his head to one side with a grin. He’ll wrap you in his arms and won’t let you go the whole night while you sleep, and sometimes when you’ve been texting him all day complaining about work, you come home to a delivery order from your favorite restaurant at your door. But sometimes, it feels like he’s unreachable. His gaze will wander off, or he’ll look like there’s something weighing on him—deep and pressing. But you’ll ask about it and he’ll perk up, waving it off as just being tired. Just like now. 

You hadn’t even realized you were just standing there staring, but Jake Sim’s preternaturally keen senses already pick you up at the edge of the room. He looks away from the cityscape, and immediately, his gaze softens when he catches a glimpse of you. You decided to surprise him earlier, when you couldn’t resist the soft pink lace and silk of the slip you saw at the store. Your cheeks go pink when you see the way his gaze practically devours you, as he so lovingly takes in every curve and detail of your body. 

“Is it too much?” You ask shyly.

“Too much?” He responds a little breathlessly. “Baby, no, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He sets down his glass as  you pad over to him. He pulls you onto his lap, nuzzling your neck. You smile, relaxing into the familiar warmth of his embrace. 

“What were you thinking about?” You ask playfully, gently placing your arms over his shoulders. His signature mischievous smirk spreads across his face and he squeezes your sides. 

“You, of course. I’m always thinking about you.” He responds in between soft kisses at your neck, and although you’re not quite sure if that’s the truth, tonight, you’ll take the affection. You gently cup his cheeks and lift his head so your eyes meet. You think you might drown in the chocolate pool of his gaze. A smile has replaced the the distant look from his earlier state, like the sun pouring light out after a heavy rain, the sight of you enrapturing him. It’s your favorite part of him, the pure warmth that always seems to radiate from him and all the love he has to give.

“Isn’t that so sweet,” you purr, and you slip a hand down the front of his chest, and start to twirl his tie around your hand, before pulling it taut and leaning into to press your lips to his. Jake groans, low and hungry as you slip your tongue into his mouth, and he grips you tight against him, kissing you hard enough that you forget what oxygen feels like. When you finally break apart, you’re both a little breathless, lips wet from each other. You can already feel the wetness pooling at your core, and you’re still clinging to Jake’s tie like it’s your lifeline. 

“I think you’re made of sugar, spice, and everything nice,” You tease in a low voice, before pressing a kiss to his nose. 

“Y/N” he whispers. The desire dripping from his voice, like a wine glass overfilled, threatens to undo you then and there. Before you can speak, Jake stands, still carrying you in his arms and you let out a small “Oh!” Of surprise. He looks down at you with a grin. He’s always enjoyed catching you off guard, and you’ve seen the way he lights up at everyone of your smallest joys. It makes you tumble off the cliff a little more every time you see him, and you’ve realized at this point, you’re so deep in the haze of love, you don’t think you could ever come out of it. 

He sets you down on his bed, the soft cotton of the sheets enveloping you, and you reach for him again by the tie, pulling him down, hungry for his kisses. He cups the back of your head to steady himself, smiling into the kiss before he pulls back. “You seem to be so fascinated by this, I’ll give it to you.” And in one graceful motion, he’s tying your hands above your head to the headboard with the tie, and you’re pretty sure there’s already a stain  underneath you just from that. He throws off his blaze and undoes his shirt, button by button, and you gaze over him hungrily, obsessively. You remember the first time you slept together, and how gentle he was as he took his time learning your body.  Now he knows the tricks, he knows what makes you tick, and he’ll take his sweet time, no matter how torturous it is to you. 

You groan when you see his bare torso and he licks his lips. 

“How and why are you so perfect?” You whine, ready to skip the foreplay and get straight to the point. 

“Now you know how I feel princess, when I look at you.” And he climbs on top of you, one hand grabbing your wrists, and the other slipping underneath your nightgown, gripping the skin of your waist as he goes in for a kiss. Your knees come up and you grip his sides, and you can feel his smile even though the kiss. He drags his lips down your jawline to your neck, and he sucks and nips at the soft skin, causing you to gasp from the sensation. 

“Hold still for me, okay?” 

“Okay,” you squeak out, holding your breath in anticipation. Your train of thought abruptly breaks off as searing pain tears its way through your neck. You can’t help the scream that rips its way out of you, and Jake’s hands tighten around your wrist in comfort. Moments later the hot pain ripples off into sweet ecstasy, his venom flooding through your veins, leaving you dazed and on cloud nine. He finally pulls himself off your neck, and with your hazy eyes you see his satisfied grin as his fangs flash, covered in blood. 

Your head spins in confusion as you try to piece together what's happening, but primal desire wars itself against the fear trying to clock itself in your head. Jake just smiles down at you, raking his gaze over your body, drunk on the first taste of his indiscretion. 

“You’re so fucking sweet, it’s taking everything in me not to drain you.” He gives you another gentle kiss, and every time the heat of his touch dances across your skin, you see stars behind your eyes. His fingers press into your soaked panties, eliciting a loud moan from you as he rubs the thin fabric, friction rubbing against your most sensitive spots. The blood loss and the venom from his fangs make everything feel loose, like a dream that will shatter with one tap of the glass. Jake loves seeing you this disarmed, knowing how easily you catch him off guard on the daily. It was a dance he’d done with you so many times before—even if you didn’t know it. He could always pick you up at the corners of his periphery, trying to analyze him, break him down, see past the curtain when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, but he always was. He could just never let you in. Truth be told, he had been wanting to come clean about his secret for a while, he just didn’t know how to approach it. He had wondered if you would be scared, if you would leave and call him a liar. Earlier he had been building up the courage to stick to his guns, that this time, he’d let you stay with the truth in the morning light. In this moment, though, he wanted to keep you by his side forever. 

He sits back on his thighs and gently removes the soaked fabric of your panties. His fingers easily slip across your soaked folds, your arousal already trickling down your thighs. He leans down to give you a quick kiss, clearly already pleased with himself. He catches your whine in his mouth, the heat and tightness in your stomach and between your legs rising. He gently soothes you with two of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, the sound of the wet squelches filling the room as you’re practically spilling over with arousal, so wet your entire pussy is absolutely slicked in it.

“It’s too much, it’s too much!” You whimper, feeling dangerous close to tipping over the ledge.

“It’s okay pretty girl, you’re doing so good for me. Just let yourself feel good.” He works his fingers harder and faster, pressing into the sweet spot deep within you as he hovers over you. You start to shake, labored pants escaping you, and it only urges him along faster as he rubs your clit with his thumb. You feel the heat rise between your legs, the tightness in your stomach hitting a breaking point in its tension. Your hands yank against the hold of the tie and you cry out “J-Jayeun!” as you cum all over his hand, eyes rolling back as adrenaline rushes through your body. 

Jake can’t help the breathy, flustered, laugh that escapes his mouth as you use his other name, and he keeps rubbing even as you cum, making your hips buck as the pleasure rises, the first tide of it dragging you under.

“That’s right, ride it out my love, ride it out baby girl,” he coos at you, until you’ve collapsed down into the sheets. He pulls his hands away finally and then sucks on his fingers, lapping up every last drop of you, mixing your cum and blood in his mouth, making more of a mess of himself.

“Shit. Every part of you is just a delicacy,” he whispers as he goes in again at your neck. Just one taste isn’t enough for him, he wants all of you—every last drop, every last vein. He wants to taste you from your neck down to your thighs, to rip through muscle and bone, and if he could consume your soul, he’d be hungry for it too. 

You’re already wiped from the first orgasm, that when his fangs sink into the bruised flesh of your neck, it takes a moment to register the pain. You cry out again, and he holds you tight to his body, even as your hands flex and writhe trying to get free. But again, the familiar heat of the venom easing its way into pleasure starts to override you, and you lose your struggle. Jake sinks his fangs in a bit deeper, and you feel him breathing heavily against you. His erection presses against you, digging into you through the fabric of his slacks. You let out a soft pained moan and he quickly rips himself off. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, you’re just— oh shit.” He presses a gentle kiss to the wound, where blood trickles down the side of your neck. “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks frantically. Your eyes flutter and you look at him through your droopy lids. 

“Mmhm…want more..want you,” you mumble. He stare at you a bit bewildered, before breaking off into a relieved laugh. “You want more?” 

You nod, each movement making you dizzy. “I want you,” you say again. 

“Me?” He pretends to be shocked, but he’s already undoing his pants. His boxers are already stained with his precum and he wastes no time in getting them off his body, discarding them to some corner of the room, before leaning down over you and peppering your face with kisses. 

“I promise, I’ll take such good care of you,” he whispers into your ear before nipping at the lobe.

His mind flashes back to when you two had first met. It had been through a mutual friend, and at first he had been uncertain. Of course loneliness had pervaded every corner of his existence, the kind of partnership he sought was just a phantom of a memory. He had always blurred the lines of love and desire, lust and romance. It always ended catastrophically-pitchfork and curses and stakes, and his own broken heart to mend over and over again. Jake knew that getting his hopes up like that would just end in crushed desires, fantasies desecrated to ash. And then you came along. You with your perfect hair, and your perfect smile, and your perfect laugh. You would make a witty comment, the kind of snark that cuts through stone, followed with a blush and a shy smile because you always worried you took it too far when you blurted out something before you could reel it in. You, who despite your tough girl act, was the softest soul he had met, always making room in her heart for another person in need of a friend. You who took his own battered heart into her hands, and grew a home with him. You with never evening passion and life. You, who, when he asked about your past loves, had said you didn’t know if you had ever felt true love before. And you, who when he had asked what you wanted in a relationship, gave him a wry smile and a kiss before whispering into his ear “Obsession.” And so obsession he had given you, obsession that had fostered itself as a spark in him and blossomed into a raging fire that consumed him day and night. Obsession that he had planted in you with every kiss and every bite.

Jake leans up and slowly, luxuriating the taste, he sings his fangs into your wrist. You buck underneath him and he squeezes his legs against you, his veiny cock pressing hard against your abdomen, leaking precum all over your bare skin. He drops down and presses a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and a soft one to your lips, your chin, and the center of your throat, before he drags his tongue down the base of your throat. He keeps going, across your chest, and circles your nipples, nipping and sucking at them until they’re peaked and you think you’ll orgasm right there. But each wave of pleasure is cut through with the searing fire as he sinks his fangs into the side side of each breast. He goes lower, placing his hands under your lower back as he grips you tight and slides his lips down your stomach, and down to the wet and heated mess between your legs. His tongue slides just past where you want relief the most, and it stops at the most sensitive part of your thigh, exactly where it meets your hip. He presses soft kisses to your skin, his strong hands coming down to keep your legs spread as he so sweetly licks the left one, priming it before he bites at it. You wail out his name, and the sounds of agony only make him harder. He does the same to your right leg, holding the other leg tightly so you don’t try to shut them. He doesn’t stop until the intoxicating scent of your blood, rust to you, and like golden nectar to him, has engulfed him entirely. The dark red streams of it run freely from every one of the punctures down your body, like you’re a sacrificial lamb left at his altar. Jake looks up at you and a primal growl escapes him. He can’t help but be turned on by the way you shake and tremble, arousal, pain, fear, desperation all mingling in a sweet scent that makes him want to lose control. Your blood pumps strong and hard through his veins, he’s drank enough of it that it’s more human blood than he’s had all year. His humanity starts to crumble to the predator that lies in slumber deep within him. He needs you, to own you, to make sure you are his, and the only thought in your brain, the only words on your tongue, morning, noon, and night are Jake Sim. 

Tears stream down your face, and in comfort, he kisses your clit, licking and sucking your core, while his hands gently massage your breasts pausing as he roughly pinches and grabs at your nipples. You moan and throw your head back, body aching for Jake to be on every single cell of your skin. His tongue slips inside you, sliding around the warm walls of your center, and your legs lock around his head, the frame of the bed creaking as you pull at your bonds. Jake takes his time, even though he wants to see the instant gratification of you orgasming now. Every sound from you is music, and every drop of your arousal hitting his tongue as he moves his mouth around your slit nearly spurs him into a frenzy. His fingers start to work slow, sadistic circles at your clit while he snakes his tongue in around your slit. Jake lets out a feral groan as he works his way through you and is met with you grinding his hips against his lips and tongue, trying to get him deeper in you. He can’t stop, wanting all of you and as you lean into him it makes him want to go insane. Jake’s hands snake under your thighs, forcing you open wider as he laps at you harder, angling his head so his tongue can hit the golden spot deep within you.  You jerk under his touch, unable to reach for him as your wrists are still firmly tied about you. He’s so fucking hard he can’t take it. He ruts into the bed, desperate for pleasure, but trying to hold out for you as long as he can. He wants to feel your pussy closing down around his cock, tight and warm. He wants to pound into you so hard you can’t make any noise except those desperate little mewls completely submitted to him.He’s been too greedy tonight and already taken more than his fair share of your blood, but he wants to draw this out of you for as long as possible, to coax out orgasm after orgasm, until you’re nothing but a fucked out, droopy mess. 

“F-Fuck, Jake, please, please, please, please,” you blubber out. You can practically feel the blood pounding through every single one of your veins as you fuck yourself harder against him. 

He pulls back, licking his lips, eyes gleaming. 

“Please what?” He hums knowing how close he is to breaking you and relishing it. He’s dreamt about this moment for so long. About what it would feel like to let go of all faculties and ravish you like the monster he is. 

“Please I want you to fuck me,” you gasp out, trying to suck in air as the dizzying rush of his tongue subsides. You’re drunk on the way he feels against every part of you, and every second he isn’t on you or in you is agony—even though every second he is makes you feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Say my name,” Jake says roughy, going back for a stream of light and soft kisses at your inner thigh that nearly makes your eyes roll back into your head. You try to compose yourself enough to speak, but the words keep dying on your tongue. 

“Say my name and I’ll fuck you,” he teases gently pressing his lips to each of the bite wounds on your thigh. 

“J…Jake please! Jake please I’ll do anything,” you scream. He presses one last rough, messy kiss to your slit, smiling through it with satisfaction as he laps up as much of you as he can.

“Good girl,” he croons before pulling up and pressing a kiss to your lips. He takes his cock in his hand and positions it, although he’s already soaked with precum, he rubs it along your center before sliding in. 

“Shit!” He groans, at the same time as you let out a breathy “Fuck!” His arms come down on either side of your head, as he gasps pathetically. You’re so warm for him, you fit so perfectly around his cock, he could stay like this forever. The rush of it all goes to his head and Jake almost loses it then and there. He starts to move back and forth, gently at first, giving you a moment to adjust, but you start roll your hips against his and the friction makes him let out a guttural sound. 

“You’re desperate aren’t you?” Jake rasps into your ear, burying his face in neck for a few moments, before he needs to pull back. He can't have this over yet. On the way back, he ghosts his lips down your collarbone and chest, before closing his lips on one of your already erect nipples and sucking on it, taking a moment to lap up some of the remaining blood from his previous bite. He sits back up, watching you squirm with the tease, and lifts a leg of yours over his shoulder, and then slides  one of the pillows under your lower back. Jake starts to move faster, harder, deeper. You can feel him bottoming you out, and you swear you’ve never felt this full in your life as your body gets pushed down into the soft comfort of the pillow. He looks down at you, and presses a hand to your stomach, grinning to himself where he can see the bulge of his cock thrusting into you. He speeds up again, entranced by how fully he’s overtaken you.

“Fuck you’re taking this so well, princess” he pants, and you can only manage erratic huffs and whines beneath him, feeling him pressing up and into your center. Every time he rams into you, you feel it in every cell of your body, rattling your brain in your skull, every muscle and bone and sinew practically pulling itself apart. It’s overstimulating, it’s overpowering, and it’s glorious. Jake takes your other leg and puts it over his other shoulder as well, holding your legs in place with a gentle hand around your shins,  and the sound you make as the new angle hits the perfect spot is practically animalistic. A sly smirk splits itself across’s Jakes face as he looks down you, huffing as he doesn’t stop rolling his hips. 

“Oh there it is, isn’t it?” He teases before lowers one of his hands and starting to rub circles on your clit without breaking his pace. 

“It— mmm, fu—ahh!” You try to piece something together, but your eyes have already started to glaze over as you get cock drunk on the sensation. Jake throughs his head back and lets out an airy laugh. He loves nothing more than the sight of your pleasure, and getting you off is a drug to him. 

“D’ya think you can cum? Come on baby girl,” He urges, almost pleading. “Cum for me,” his voice sounds so distant yet like it’s right up beside you at the same time. The second orgasm is slower and deeper, being pulled out of you like a thread unspooling. You feel it in your head first, before it flutters down through you stomach, and you arch your back, mouth open in an “o”, and for a moment you lose all sense of time. As the stars rearranged themselves in your eyes and you felt the euphoric unravel of the knot inside you, you wonder how many times you could relive the first sin, if it meant staying in this heaven forever. Jake’s eyes nearly roll back into his head as he feels you clenching and shuddering around his cock combined with the prettiest face he could ever dream of you making. He throws a hand forward against the headboard to steady himself, breathing heavily as you come down from your high.

“Fuck, Y/N. You don’t eve know what you’re doing to me right now.” He whispers hoarsely, and you’re too fucked out to even process what’s happening, only knowing that your body aches for him, for him to stay near you, on you, in you.

He reaches up and easily undoes your binds, You gasp, too weak to move as your arms collapse beside you, the silk tie fluttering to the side, but you don’t have a moment of reprieve as he flips you over and begins to ruthlessly pound into you from behind. He has an arm wrapped around your front, holding your bloodied neck against his forearm, while the other steadies itself against your lower back. You let out an incoherent cry as you feel the full force of his length deep inside you. Your hands grip the silk of the sheets hard enough that your knuckles are white, and your vision starts to twin and blur at each impact. 

“Jake…Jake…Jake!” You cry out, your body starting to crumple beneath him.  The sound of wet skin slapping into each other fills the room. Jake watches with a hunger as his dick slides in you, savoring every time he sees his length pull out and slam right back into your sopping cunt. It’s so pink and puffy,  just begging to take more and more of him. He moves his arm from your throat, and wraps your silky hair around his fingers, pulling your head back as he tangles his knuckles in your strands. You arch back, looking up at the ceiling, as your body is shoved forward with every single pound of his hips. You can feel him start to get close, that hum of tightening muscles and carnal desires reaching its peak until there is no you and him, just pleasure intertwining you both. 

“Flip—me over—baby,” you manage in between his cock ramming into you. “I wanna look at you when you—“ You don’t get to finish the sentence, as he wastes no time in fulfilling your ask. He’d do anything you say, it didn’t matter how you asked. He pulls out just long enough to flip you over, and that brief moment of separation is agony, right before he inserts himself back in. You reach up, and lace your hands through his hair, pulling him down into a messy kiss, catching each other whimpers and moans in your mouth. You move your body with his, bringing your legs up to lock them around his legs, and you squeeze your knees around his sides. He whimpers, brain short-circuiting as he feels you force yourself even tighter down around him, your cunt practically squeezing around his cock,  not a single inch of your skin not pressed together. It’s the final nudge he needs to let himself go. 

“Oh fuck Y/N, Oh fuck baby, I’m gonna—“ He break off in a shudder, as he finally lets himself have his release. His hands come crashing down on either side of your face as he falls down on you, pressing his face into your chest, as his body shakes and twitches, cum spilling out of your hole as he fills you up. You hold him tight, nails digging into his bag, as you feel inside you the way his body practically vibrates with it. This was the sermon and the worship, and you think that you could love this god of a man forever.

Jake stays there for a minute or two, letting the sound of your rapid heartbeat calm his heavy breathing down. 

“Mmm, fuck,” he whispers. “I’ve made an absolute mess of you. I’m so sorry, I was too rough, wasn’t I? “S’okay,” you mumble back, your words starting to slur together as the exertion of the night is settling into your bones. 

“Let me clean you up,” he says softly, and pulls out. He gently sweeps your hair from your eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. The high of it all has started to wear down leaving nothing but a buzz in the back of his head. When Jake looks at you, part of him still yearns for more, but he knows it’s the blood talking. 

“Don’t go,” you whisper, still in that post coital haze. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jake reassures as you presses a soft kiss to your lips, and though he knows he’s comforting you in the moment, he’s making a promise to himself. “I’ll be right back okay? Don’t fall asleep.” Jake quietly pads off to the bathroom, where he starts to run the water in the tub until it’s warm enough. He comes back, and scoops you up in his arms. You cling to his neck, resting your head against his chest, until he gently lowers you into tub. The warm soapy water feels heavenly against your aching muscles and bloodied skin, and you let the water soothe your tired body. Jake kneels down next to you, and he takes a wash cloth, gently wiping off the blood from your bruised skin. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, lips pursed together as examine you for any sign of anger or a deeper sign of hurt. 

“You’re lying to me,” You mumble as you slowly come back to yourself. Jakes blood runs cold, as he realizes the ruse is falling through. He swallows, hard. This was the truth he had been promising for weeks—no months now, that he would confess to you. Would you say it? Those damning words? And harder still, would he own up to their truth? 

“Lying?” He asks softly. 

“I don’t feel right, Jake” you whisper, looking up at the lights in the bathroom, focusing on them to keep yourself present.  His stomach sinks. His venom is slowly wearing off at this point, and he knows if he tells you the truth now, you’d remember it in the morning. 

“I was too rough with you, I’m sorry,” he says in a tight voice, the emotions all bubbling up.  

“No that’s not what I meant,” you say slowly. The truth is right there, dancing at the tip of your tongue, you just need to find the right way to piece the puzzle together. 

“No I…I know,” Jake says haltingly. He avoids your gaze, knowing if he meets you eye to eye he won’t be able to swallow the truth. “It’s not what you think though, I just…I can’t lose you, okay Y/N? I don’t think I can do this without you.”  You tilt your head, your stomach starting to knot itself together.

“I won’t be going anywhere,” you gently try to reassure him. “But I just…that didn’t seem like…you.” 

Jake sighs and closing his eyes, setting the washcloth down as he grips the edge of the tub har enough that his knuckles go white. 

“You don’t know that,” he says hoarsely. He’s supposed to be a shell of a human, a monster masquerading as some sentient being, but this love has unravelled him, and without you holding the threads of himself together, he doesn’t know if he can pull himself tight again.  He’s never felt so human as when he’s with you, and after centuries, he forgot the way that love had always consumed him, the way that he sometimes didn’t know how to hold space for himself because he had always filled himself up with love for everyone else. 

“This isn’t the conversation to have right now, but I promise I won’t let anything ever happen to you,” Jake says softly, unable to form the words he needs to say in the moment. He feels your hand sliding under his chin, tipping his head up so he’s forced to look at you. There’s a look he doesn’t recognize in your eyes, one that makes him feel like a stake is being driven through his heart. 

“Jake, baby,” You say your voice cracking. “I can’t keep playing this game with you. Please. I want the truth, so I can work around it with you.” 

Jake closes his eyes, pulling his head away.  It’s hurt in your eyes. It’s hurt and longing and love. The look of somebody who’s asking you to keep them with you, of somebody who realizes that the person they love and trust most in the world doesn’t feel the same for you. He thinks that if he could cry right now he would. What has he done? He’s beyond teetering at the ledge, he’s dived head first off this cliff, and he’s scrambling for a foothold right now. 

“Okay,” Jake promises. “I’ll tell you everything in the morning. I swear it Y/N. Just…give me tonight, yeah? It’s a lot.” You sigh, lowering your head, and the droning in your head starts to overpower the semblance of focus you had pulled together right now. 

“Fine.” You agree, but the anxiety of whatever waters you had waded into had started to rise. Jake finishes washing you up in silence, gently massaging your shoulders and arms, and when he’s done he drains the tub and wraps you up in a clean towel. He disappears for a moment and comes back with clean pajamas, helping you shimmy into them before picking you back up here and gently laying you back down on the bed, wrapping the blanket around you.  He goes around to the other side of the bed and settles himself in, drawing you close to this chest, and setting his chin on your head as he wraps his arms around you, anchoring himself to you. 

“We aren’t done here,” You say with a tired glance up at him. “I won’t let you forget this,” you say trying to muster the most stubborn tone you can. 

“Tomorrow,” he promises with a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just sleep for now.” 

And you’re not sure if you can believe him, or if his words are coated in sugar white lies, but you’re too exhausted to argue, so you let yourself be carried under his warm touch to the comforting folds of sleep. Jake looked down at you, already snoring softly curled up in his arms against his chest. He forced his heart to beat every time you were together like this, forced himself to maintain the illusion that he was alive just like you, no matter how much it exhausted him. You looked so angelic  even if you looked so frail after the night. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in your familiar scent. He had memorized every line on your face, every place where the corners of your mouth wrinkled when you smiled, and the way your nose scrunched when you laugh. He memorized the map of your veins, the path of your freckles, the secrets you whispered in his ear at night and blurted out in the car, every single way you’ve ever given yourself to him. And he hates himself for not being able to give all of himself to you.  He couldn’t bear to lose this. Not again. So Jake leaned down and whispered in your ear,

“I’m so sorry my love.” 

And bit you ever so gently at your neck. Your squirm in your sleep, but it lasts for a moment as you go still in his arms, the wound closing as he ran his tongue over it. 

“Forget the truth of tonight,” He whispers into your ear, a command spoken somewhere from deeper within him, a darker more ancient place. Immediately, the knot between your brows smooths out, your lips curling up in a peaceful smile as the magic takes hold. 

Tomorrow, Jake promises himself as he rubs a hand over his face. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her the truth. And thus the dance begins again. For tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that, as many eternities as he could have.

[sounds-gay-im-in]

welcome to the magic ask game<3 sadly, I have kidnapped kenji and the only way to save him is to come up with an idea for a first date that is so terrible that it would get you blocked by atsushi. There's no other way, I'm afraid:/

okay, this probably isn't very original; hear me out, you take them on a date set up like a horror movie, without telling them and gaslight the hell out of them. You get paid actors to follow you, or be generally creepy around you both.

Or You play the plotwist bad guy, complete with convincing them to come home with you, trap them there, creepy photos, the works.

Or To be really extreme you both would get fake kidnapped in a creepy abandoned building, and you both would get free due to some convenient reason, bindings weren't tight enough on you, or you had on you/found somehow something sharp to cut through the bindings rope or zip tie or something. You're trying to escape the creepy building or basement, there are the fake kidnappers wondering around.

I don't how you would end the evening, presumably when your date got really, Really freaked out. And then you tell them it was all a just a fun joke, really invalidate their fear. I think you could get blocked by atsushi for this. And, anyway I don't the logistics of this idea so maybe it's bad, I don't know. I hope this answer was helpful in some sort of way.

I love your analyses, have a nice day/night

With affection

-Vampirate

[fashion4standusers]

Lil Nas X in custom Coach tour outfits

[xxcallmemaryxx]

You finally met your sweet creature. He’s a big shy ball of nerves. But he’s a sweetheart. What you don’t know is you just told a vampire to stop by any time he wants, and he fully intends on taking you up on that.

Vampire Vessel x GN reader.

For the full experience (or a little refresher)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

(I make some little callbacks to earlier vamp vessel fics, just incase you’re a bit confused reading this one for the first time.)

Under the cut ~ <3

It’s been a week. Vessel couldn’t bring himself to come back and see you. The embarrassment of what he did eating at his bones every second since it happened. He keeps replaying it over and over again in his head. Moping about the manor wishing he could bury himself.

ii was sick of his shit, to put it bluntly.

At this point, he’s resorted to means he never thought he’d turn to. Locking Vessel out of the manor being something even he finds himself at a bit of a loss over.

“This is ridiculous, ii.”

Vessel argues through the door. Standing there awkwardly like he’s on time out. In a way, he kind of is, even if it’s a bit backwards.

“You may come back in only when you’ve snapped out of it, or until the sun has begun to rise. Until then, do not return.”

And with that ii vanishes. Leaving Vessel on his own doorstep. He blinks at the manors front door. Feeling foolish, he kicks a rock and flips ii off. A bit childish, he will admit. But ultimately he can’t find it in himself to care.

He turns to gaze out at the openness of the woods and mountains he calls his home, his safety. Yet all that space and there’s only one place he can think to go. It’s muscle memory at this point.

ii watches him, high above through his bedroom window. Glad he chose not to sit on the doorstep and sulk all night. He can only hope Vessel returns feeling better. Vampires. Such moody creatures.

…

He almost didn’t expect to find you still here. Despite ii swearing you seemed completely unfazed, Vessel didn’t believe it. He knows ii doesn’t care for you, not like he does. He was positive iis words were just a ploy to trick him out of bed. He supposes he should cut ii a bit of slack, he wasn’t lying after all.

He settles into his branch, a branch that’s beginning to feel like his home away from home. He sets his sights on you, his beloved human. It feels like centuries have passed since he saw you last. He can’t believe he went so long without returning to you. You’re washing dishes and cleaning up from the day. Such mundane tasks, he wishes he could bring you to the manor. You’d never have to lift a finger again. He knows iii and iv would wait on you just as he would. ii, well he’d take some time to warm up to you… but you’d be the safest most spoiled human on the planet inside that manor.

He thinks long and hard about iis words. Not to return until he’s snapped out of it. ii didn’t specify how exactly to achieve that. Still feeling a bit peeved off with ii, Vessel is easily swayed into being slightly spiteful.

He doesn’t think twice as he jumps from his branch, landing properly this time, and marching up to your door with such gusto. It’s only then as he stands there looking at your front door does he falter. Movement beside him catches his eye and he whips around to face whatever danger is there to end him. When he’s not met with a hunter, the authorities, or any kind of danger, but instead met with a dreamcatcher swaying slightly in the breeze, his shoulders drop.

It’s his dreamcatcher.

The one he left on your door so long ago.

He forgot he made it. He can’t believe you kept it. His dead heart soars. He swears he felt it beat. One faint thump deep in his chest. A smile breaks out on his lips and the tips of his fangs poke into his bottom lip.

This is what is called a moment of weakness. A moment of complete foolishness. Because Vessel is not paying attention to his surroundings. He’s so caught up in his own world, picturing you finding the gift and then choosing to hang it up, that he fails to hear you approaching your own front door. The one he’s standing on the other side of.

He’s violently ripped from his own head when you swing your door open to put the rubbish out, only to collide with his solid body instead.

The scream he rips from you echos through the trees and you stumble back into your house like a fool. Vessel is a complete statue where he stands. Staring down at you realising what he’s done. He can’t even ask you if you’re okay. The only things on his mind is that he actually finally touched you, and that ii is going to fucking kill him.

You right yourself, dropping the rubbish bag next to you as you gear up to give this person a piece of your mind. But he sees the shift in your demeanor. You recognise him immediately. Because of course you do.

“It’s you.”

He stands there like an idiot. His hands are trembling, he can’t feel his legs, he can’t remember how to speak. He hasn’t blinked once since you opened the door and he’s sure if he could he’d empty his stomach on your feet right now. He wishes he could die. But then he remembers he is dead and all that does is remind him of everything bad about his life ever.

“Uh… your bag…”

Is all he can force out. He mentally face palms. His voice shakes and he points down to it like a donkey. You don’t even look down at it. Your eyes are glued to him and that just makes him feel even stupider. He’s never returning to the manor. He’s never returning to see you. He thought falling out of a tree was bad. He wishes he could go back to that night. That moment. What on earth was he thinking standing on your doorstep. He’s completely humiliated. What the fuck is wrong with him.

“I- I’m sorry-“

He forces his brain to shut the fuck up for one minute so he can right this mess.

“I owe you an apology…”

He forces out, he’s never spoken like this before. He barely recognises his own voice. So quiet and unsure. He’s an embarrassment to his kind.

“I believe I gave you quite the fright a few nights ago. Please forgive me.”

And his apology is honest. It’s genuine. It’s real. He really needs you to know he’s sorry. But he knows he looks like an utter fool right now. Twisting his hands nervously and speaking like he has a mouth full of cotton. He wouldn’t be surprised if you laughed him off your doorstep and sent the town after him just for his stupidity alone.

“You fell from the tree… are you alright? That must have hurt.”

Your eyes make their way down the length of him. He’d be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t like it. He likes it a lot despite how much it terrifies him. He watches you take him in and give him a solid once over. Concern and worry in your beautiful eyes. Worry for him. He can’t breathe.

“I am just fine. I was shaken, if anything. I would like to explain… if I may.”

He offers you nervously. His voice thick as he speaks. He doesn’t think it’s quite sunk in yet that he’s actually speaking with you. That this isn’t a fantasy. That this is real. You’re looking at him and listening to him and he’s conversing with you.

“Oh, yes please. I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell happened all week. I thought I dreamed it.”

You say to him with a sigh, a slight smile on your face as your eyes meet his again. He is dizzy. His arms feel like lead and he is positive his eyes are about to bug out of his head.

“So uh, you see this home has been vacant for quite some time. A long while before you moved here, I put a trail cam up in that tree. I rather enjoy watching the wildlife. I was simply retrieving it that night, I seemed to have misjudged my footing. I sincerely apologise.”

These words come easier to him. He’d spent hours coming up with a reasonable excuse, incase he ever had to explain what happened. He’d rehearsed it over and over again. Despite this, he seriously doubted he’d ever actually tell the lie. Yet here he is. Tweaking out of his mind over it. The irony of the lie is not lost on him either, given that those monstrous technologies are ones he avoids like the plague. He bites his tongue as he anticipates his demise.

“Ohhh… yeah I’ve seen them around the woods. I didn’t realise they were yours. Look, it’s no problem. But next time, just let me know. I wouldn’t have minded a knock on my door.”

You flash a beautiful smile at him, shrugging like it’s nothing. Your immediate acceptance of his lie shocks him. He almost wants to tell you off for it. For believing strange men when they tell you things. For not asking questions. For not picking his words apart. He blinks at you. And he has to get his thoughts back on track before he can answer you.

“Yes… of course. You have my word.”

He says sincerely. Placing a palm to his chest like this promise is the most important he’s ever made.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t catch your name. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Vessel watches in slow motion as you stick your hand out to shake his. His world stops. He realises briefly that you have quite the tendency to do that to him. He looks down at your hand like it could set him on fire. He doesn’t want to leave you hanging. So reluctantly, he reaches forward and grabs your hand gently in his. He brings it up to his lips and places the briefest of kisses on your knuckles. He catches the way your smile falters. He knows, deep in his soul, that it’s because of how cold his skin is. His eyes stay locked on yours as he does so, and even then as he slowly drops your hand. He swallows thickly, his nerves hitting him hard as he forces a wobbly smile at you. Careful not to let his fangs poke through his lips.

“I do not live nearby, no. I live…”

He hesitates. Is he really about to tell you this?

“… I live deeper in the woods. Private property, you see.”

Another lie.

He hates it. He wants to kick himself stupid for lying to you. He feels like he’s betraying you. He swore to himself he’d never lie to you.

“You may call me Vessel. It is of my utmost pleasure to meet you.”

He finishes off by saying softly, bowing his head as he does so.

“Vessel… you enjoy the seclusion too?”

You ask him casually after testing his name on your lips. He almost curses you. Foolish human. Using his name so sweetly. Speaking it so eloquently. Decisions like that get you eaten. He swallows thickly. He has to hold his breath so to not breathe you in too deeply.

“We do, yes. The towns aren’t exactly appealing.”

He answers softly, feeling good about his answer through his awful distraction before-

“We? You live with others?”

There it is. The slip up. He pales. Somehow it’s possible. He blinks down at you like you just insulted him.

“Uh. Yes. I do. Friends turned family. Much like myself.”

He forces out. Not even sure how to describe what the guys are to him. All he knows is he loves them with his whole heart. And now a human knows of their existence. How is he ever going to get out of this one. He’s feeling that bubbling of self hatred brewing deep in his bones again.

“Well, Vessel. It was lovely to meet you. But I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got a trek back home. Don’t be stranger.”

You say to him with a heart stopping smile. You bend over to pick up the long forgotten rubbish bag, and step outside with him to toss it in the bigger bin. He nods a little awkwardly as he watches you make your way back to your door, he steps off your door step slowly. Unsure if he’s grateful or devastated the interaction is over.

“I’ll-… I’ll keep my eye out around here from now on, just incase…”

He trails off, unsure if he said the right thing or if that came out wrong. But when you give him yet another smile, he believes every choice he’s ever made his whole existence that led him to this point, was the right one.

“That would be greatly appreciated, Vessel. Thank you. Don’t be shy, stop in whenever you like. Get home safe.”

And with that you close your door. Leaving him there staring at it with the biggest grin he’s ever sported. Fangs on full display. Eyes wide and full of wonder.

He realises too late that he’s crying. Why? He has no idea. But he’s so happy. He did it. He spoke to you. You spoke to him. You looked at him, you smiled at him, you touched him. He touched you. He KISSED you. He almost collapses. He has to leave. He has to leave before he makes a fool of himself again but he can’t will himself away from where he stands.

You told him to come back any time.

He has got to go and tell ii.

.

.

.

I was really anticipating this one, I’m happy with it. I hope you are too. Thank you so much for reading!! So much love for you.

<3 <3

[angrybubbles]

I think one of my favorite parts of Devil's Minion is that their flaws really suit each other to a degree.

Daniel is harshly blunt. He speaks deliberately and without any fanfare, and you know exactly what he means as he says it. Even when he's insulting you, and especially when he's angry, his bluntness is front-and-center. This is probably why he's been divorced twice, because this kind of behavior is cute and refreshing at first, until he starts laying out the problems with you.

Armand needs that kind of bold speech. That man could overthink himself out of how to tie shoelaces on a bad day, and part of his difficulty with Louis in the show is insecurity and doubt. With Daniel, he knows exactly where he stands, which is probably why he would take some of Daniel's worst moments as truth. Armand has the consciousness to know he's capable of some heinous shit, and doesn't really take part in guilt on it too much, so he's uniquely suited to handling insults being thrown at him.

And Armand is all about subtly. He'll lie and soothe; talk around something or simply avoid it physically. Not to mention the hall of mirrors that exists in his mind and memories. He masks to suit what is expected of him in order to fit a role, but it is just a mask, so it doesn't feel genuine to those looking for a deep connection. And it's up to his perception of reality to figure out which mask he needs.

Which Daniel, solver of puzzles and professional snoop, is never going to be bored with it. What is Armand doing today? Why is he acting this way? The process of finding out is how Daniel makes emotional connections, and every day or week with Armand would be a new task. The truth of Armand is a process of collaborative discovery, and Daniel not only thrives on challenge, but also on mystery.

Idk, I just think it's neat. Obviously they still step on each other's toes, and the growing pains are uh, flammatory, but they still are uniquely suited to handling bad days with each other, as long as they aren't having a bad day on the same day (cue horrible fight and another chase across the globe because they love each other anyway)

[neokamui414]

Venn diagrams are fun.

[wordpress-blaze-244022290]

In The Time It Takes To Rise

People say I'm too soft sometimes, that I let things slide, wait too long, or give too many second chances. But I don't see it that way.

I think my patience is one of the few things that's kept me steady in a world that's anything but. When the cafe gets busy and the orders stack up and tempers flare, I take a breath. I smile. I keep moving. There's a rhythm to waiting, like the way bread rises, or tea steeps just right. You can’t rush good things. People need time too, as well as space. And someone who won’t give up on them the moment they mess up.

I guess that’s where the kindness comes in.

I don’t really go around calling myself kind, but I notice things. I notice when someone in sad or happy. When they stir there coffee for too long, lost in thought. When they say “I’m fine” but won’t meet your eyes. I’m not great with big, loud gestures- but I’ll remember your order even if you haven’t been in for a few days. I’ll slip an extra cookie into your bag if it looks like you had a rough day.

that’s what I like about myself. That I try to make room for people, even when they’re hard to understand. That I wait. That I care, quietly.

Source: In The Time It Takes To Rise