#and then added another couple of paragraphs

[mythicalbirduniverse]

TMAGP EP 30 SPOILERS!!!

Also 5 paragraph rant coming, so be prepared

I just finished ep 30 an OMG WTFFF????

First of all, the groundskeeper dude that gave his statement was iconic bc I would also see bloodstains and still do the job if they added 10k to my salary

In one of the behind the scenes episodes on the magnus archives, they talked about how if you have a good twist at least a couple of people will guess what it is exactly, and I literally saw someone guess that Celia was from the tma universe, but I went "Noooo, there's no way she would actually be from the tma universe" and THEN THEY PULL OUT THE DAMN RIP IN THE UNIVERSE. I'm actually floored like omg

Sam was a very Jon-coded character, and now I see that they made those parallels on purpose to further conceal the twist that we were just delivered. I specifically found his childhood experience with the fears and his general curiosity to be very similar to Jons, as well as Sam appearing to be the protagonist of the series, as much as it has a protagonist. This harkens back to yet another post that I saw where instead of comparing Sam to Jon, they instead compared Sam to Sasha, with Alice filling a Jon-adjacent role.

I can see how the poster of this theory came to this conclusion, given Sam's immediate acceptance of the supernatural and his tendency to poke his nose into places where he does not belong. It is also a massive coincidence that they both were killed early on in their respective series, as well as for unknown reasons/reasons that were irrelevant to them. I can already tell that Alice will parallel Jon in the sense that they both blame themselves for the deaths of Sam and Sasha respectively.

I am very excited for the new episode to come out tomorrow, both to see who the new protagonist figure will be, as well as to see what will happen to Celia and Alice with the Eye/Jon-aligned creature still in the vicinity. Apologies for the rant!

[iam93percentstardust]

i hate having to defend booktok as much as the next person on this site. and to be fair, i think that there's some valid criticism of that tiktok going around about the woman who hates long paragraphs. but, like. guys. it's not just that she hates long paragraphs. it's that she hates paragraphs that take up the entire page.

and maybe i'm swinging a bat at a hornet's nest here, but as someone who does read, and reads a lot, and reads, in particular, a lot of older works... i also will put down a book with singular paragraphs that take up the entire page.

because when i see one single paragraph that goes on for one full page (or, god forbid, multiple pages), i really only see a couple of possibilities.

possibility 1: the author is just someone who's very long-winded and can take a full page (or multiple pages) to cover one singular topic that would, in a less verbose author, be covered in a much shorter paragraph (i.e. talking for a full page about someone's dress as opposed to a few short sentences). and while that's a stylistic choice and the author is more than welcome to do that, i think it's also in a reader's prerogative to go "someone that wordy is not for me."

possibility 2: the author is not someone who's very long-winded and instead just kept adding more and more topics into one single paragraph when, instead, they should have been broken up into multiple paragraphs, each one covering a separate topic. now, maybe, this is another stylistic choice, but more likely, in my mind, one paragraph covering many topics is the result of poor editing. and, to be honest, i don't really want to read a poorly edited book because, odds are, overly long paragraphs are only the tip of the iceberg.

and given the sheer number of posts that go around this site on a monthly basis complaining about fic writers who post everything as a big wall of text instead of breaking it up into manageable paragraphs--i think you all know perfectly well that the majority of people don't want to read overly long paragraphs.

you just want to be mean to booktok.

[zeawesomebirdie]

I completely failed at writing anything else and instead knit, which is great cause I finished my last holiday gift but also whoops

[leisureflame]

"I CANT THINK"

If you write, I assure you you have thought that.

Fear no more child, for I have found a solution.

it's called Rapid writing

something we learned when I was in 9th grade drama class and I cannot emphasize enough just how effective it is. Its actually what gave me the idea for my first book.

Stop what you are doing and do what I tell you

go grab either a pencil and paper (or open an empty document)

set a timer for 2 minutes

ask a friend to give you a random sentence. I have a few examples that I myself rapid wrote to: a) I looked around and saw b) the old lady hung from the ceiling and laughed c) purple paint dripped from her long purple fingernails d) there is a hole in my ceiling. e) when I am sad I... f) When you close the door, I... g) there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob

Now the most important thing is not to think of this sentence before you start writing. as soon as you decide which one if you are choosing from my examples (or as soon as you hear it if you are getting if from a friend), start the timer.

start writing the sentence and without hesitating just keep writing. the #1 rule here is to not stop or hesitate for a single second until the 2 minutes are over. you can write nonsense if you want and if you REALLY can't continue then write some random words for a couple of seconds then continue AS LONG AS YOU ARE STILL WRITING.

another rule is that you are not allowed to delete. even if its a spelling error, just ignore it.

after the timer is done, I promise you will have something to work with. now copy the paragraph you wrote and paste it below, here you can start fixing spelling errors and adding things at your own pace because now the creative side of your brain has opened.

don't think about the way you are writing or the words you use, think about the story you are telling. the idea.

Sometimes you will get something beautiful and deep like I did here:

When I am sad I go to my blanket, not many people know about it, all they think is happening is that a child likes to cuddle in a blanket, but no. my blanket has a special thing about it, it is a magical blanket, well, not the blanket itself but the embroidery on the blanket, it simply takes my sadness away but it adds the story of my emotions to the embroidery, my blanket is a very pretty one, it is a pastel blue color and it has so much silk embroideries that you just think its patterns, but it isn't, if you look deeper you will find stories every one of those stories came from someones tears... my tears. whenever i cry, i wipe my tears with my blanket and my pain goes but my story stays.

or

there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob on the door there is a painting of you, and there are many locks on the door from top to bottom, when you open the door, there is a mirror. this door is the door to self discovery, from the outside there is a painting of how people think you look like but when you open the door, you get to see what you really are in detail and look at yourself they way you want to, you can smile or cry and the refection on the mirror will change but on the painting, it doesn't show ur emotions, just how people see you usually.

or you can get something so stupid like i did here:

there is a hole in the ceiling in my classroom. everyday a dinosaur would a pear and eat my lunch and i keep coming home hungry but my mom dsays she packed me enough food. so she didn't feed me. i told her a dinasour was eating my lunch but she said that disasours only live in Norway! so i went into the school vents looking for that idino and revenge my food, we met at last, held our weapons, i was holding a subway sandwich and the dino was holding a bana na MY BANANA  i lost it, so i attacked him one hit on the head and the whole species were extinct , people thousand of years from now said dinos got extinct because of a meteorite but i know better, also i am still alive because whoever kills a dino becomes immortal, also i killed my mom for not believing me and let her starve in her grave just like she let made me starve. and then i killed everyone who was a flat earther because i hate them and now i can kill anyone once i tap them with my super subway sandwich 

(by the way, ignore the horrible spelling, the examples i gave were from the unedited version.)

THE POINT IS ITS ACTUALLY SO HELPFUL. you can use it for a new story idea (i used the blanket one as an element in one of my WIPs and it helped the story a lot) or if you get something stupid like the dino one I wrote THATS GOOD THATS FINE because now you have your creativity going.

I challenge you to actually try this and PLEASE share it with me I LOVE reading other peoples rapid writings. have fun <3

tagging @cosmosandcapybaras24 @ajsbookshelf @gloryofdawn, @chaoticharmony93 @deception-united and anyone else who's interested to try this out and share with me!

[goldfades]

38. "stay with me, please? i need you tonight. maybe for the rest of my life, if you're generous."

with jamie!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 | jd⁹

♡ ─ word count | 1.6k

♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort, ANGST!! jamie being an asshole (but it was lowkey justified), mention of his injury/trade :((, thats all!

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay listen i forgot the prompt but the last few paragraphs basically describe what the prompt conveys if that makes sense, i still hope u enjoy it nonnie 😭🩷

Jamie had a pretty hard season, with him moving to Philadelphia unexpectedly and him being injured had really gotten to him. He's spent the last two weeks at home recovering and trying to get better as soon as he could, he wanted to be back on the ice as soon as possible. His injury added another layer of frustration. The pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him. Hockey had always been his sanctuary, and the forced break on top of the trade felt like the whole universe was against him.

You entered the condo, sighing with exhaustion. The last couple months had been frustrating for you as well, but it didn't even come close to how Jamie was feeling. As you entered the small condo, you heard the shower running and assumed it was Jamie.

You put down everything and began starting on dinner, Jamie probably hadn't eaten anything except breakfast. You were worried for him, more than you could ever express. You'd always had faith in him even in the lowest of the lows but he had never been this low in his entire career. He'd always been a determined person but right now, it really did feel like the odds were stacked up against him.

You wanted to do everything in your power to make him happy again, even if it was for a fleeting moment before the world closing on him again. The smell of a home-cooked meal began to fill the air as you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing a comforting dish.

As you worked, your thoughts lingered on Jamie's struggles - the trade, the injury, and the emotional toll it all took on him. You understood the importance of hockey in his life, how it served as a source of purpose. Tonight, you wanted to provide not just a meal but a reminder that he wasn't alone in this struggle, no matter what happens.

As your timer beeped, indicating that dinner was ready, you set the table, adorned with comforting dishes. The shower turned off, and soon Jamie emerged, his weariness evident in his movements. You gave him a warm smile, opening up your arms for a hug.

"I made your favorite,"

He slumped down to your height and embraced you tightly, sighing. You let him hug you before he slipped away from the embrace, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders as he did. The weariness in his pretty eyes spoke volumes, but so did the gratitude for the effort you put into making the evening a little brighter.

"Thank you," Jamie murmured, his voice a mixture of fatigue and appreciation. He walked over to the table and sat down as you brought waters from the fridge before sitting with him.

"How was your day?" You asked gently as you settled into the seat, glancing up to watch him.

"It was fine." He responded shortly as he began eating the food, avoiding your gaze. You knew he didn't want to come off bitter but it stung, you tried your best to not to take it personal. "You?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to maintain a casual tone. "Work had its moments, but nothing too exciting. I did manage to catch up with Maya over the phone today, she said she missed us back in California."

You knew you had messed up as you heard Jamie's fork hit the plate, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned California. You looked up and caught his tired gaze as he sighed.

"I'm sorry," you offered softly, regret lacing your words. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that might upset you. It's just habit to share little updates about people we know, you know?"

Jamie took a deep breath, and you could see the effort it took for him to compose himself. "It's okay," he finally replied, though the strain in his voice betrayed the words. "I just... miss the way things used to be."

His vulnerability hung in the air, and you felt a pang of empathy. The unexpected move to Philadelphia had disrupted not only his career but also the familiar life you both had in California. You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. "I miss it too, Jamie. But we'll make new memories here. It just takes time."

He sighed and pulled his hand away from yours, your chest squeezing in hurt. He took the fork and continued to eat, choosing to stay silent. You didn't know why he was being so distant, so cold. You hated it but you couldn't resent him for it, you knew it wasn't his fault. That still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

The room seemed to shrink with the silence, the only sound was the clinking of cutlery against the plate. The unspoken tension between you and Jamie hung heavy in the air and despite your attempt to offer comfort, he withdrew further into his thoughts. As he continued to eat in silence, you couldn't shake the ache in your chest. The distance, both physical and emotional, left you feeling like a spectator in Jamie's struggle, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing moment.

You had never had this problem with Jamie before, he communicated everything he felt so that it was easier for the both of you so this was new territory. What had changed? Why was he retreating into this new, silent version of himself? The questions lingered, unanswered, amplifying the sense of helplessness.

With a heavy sigh, you set your fork down, the clatter against the plate echoing the unease in the room. "Jamie," you began tentatively, your voice soft but carrying the weight of your concern. "I hate seeing you like this, I just want to help."

Jamie had finally slammed the fork down, looking up at you with agitated playing on his face. "You can't fucking help me, Y/N. Do you get that, is that simple enough for you? I can't breathe around you without you looking at me and trying to analyze it and help me. You look at me like I'm some kind of burden you need to carry, and I'm sick of it."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion behind them stinging more than any physical blow. It was a side of Jamie you hadn't encountered before, and the harshness in his tone took you aback. There was silence as you both stared at each other and you saw the regret slowly seep into Jamie's expression.

You took a moment to collect yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before finally speaking. "I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I just care about you, and seeing you struggle hurts. I thought we could face it together, like we always have."

He lowered his gaze, a visible conflict playing out in his eyes. The regret painted across his face was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with the weight of his words. "I know I messed up," Jamie finally admitted, his voice softer now, remorse evident. "It's just... everything feels like too much right now, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, baby."

The pet name rolled off his tongue like honey as he spoke and you could see the old Jamie come back slowly as you gazed at him. You nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the emotions that had fueled his outburst.

"Everything will be easier if you just talk to me, Jamie." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "I want to understand, Jamie. I want to be there for you," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "We can face whatever it is together. Just talk to me. Please."

He sighed, the conflict in his eyes softening. "I know, Y/N. I just... I'm not used to all of this. The move, the injury, it's like my whole world got turned upside down, and I don't know how to understand it."

You reached across the table, your hand finding his. "We'll figure it out together. You don't have to carry it all on your own. I hate seeing you hurt like this, baby."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth of the gesture was filled with gratitude. "I don't want to push you away, Y/N. I just... I've always been the one who had it all figured out, you know? But this, it's different. It's overwhelming."

"You don't have to have it all figured out, Jamie. We'll navigate through this together. It's okay not to be okay, you don't have to play the part because at the end of the day, you're just human."

He nodded, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I'm just scared of losing everything, of losing myself in all of this mess."

The weight of his fears hung in the air, and you leaned in, your thumb gently caressing his hand. "You won't lose yourself, Jamie. I'm here to help you find your way back. We'll take it one step at a time."

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of vulnerability hanging in the air. Then, slowly, he began to open up. The words spilled out, frustration, fear, and the overwhelming pressure he felt. As he spoke, you listened, offering support.

After the conversation, you laid next to him in the bed, his head laying on your chest. The silence was comfortable as you both began to seep into sleep, enveloped in one another. Your fingers gently traced soothing patterns on his back as you held him close, your presence a reassurance that he wasn't alone ever.

The soft rhythm of his breathing matched the steady beat of your heart, as Jamie shifted slightly, his fingers finding yours in the darkness.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[musings-of-a-rose]

Camping Trip

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader (nickname Autumn)

Word Count: 3400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. I don’t know. I just saw the picture in the upper right of my moodboard and came up with this. Ok fine I wrote the first 3 paragraphs in May and the rest now. Will and I are complicated, ok? Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for reading and listening to my ramblings as always!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

It had been a rough few months, no doubt about that. Somehow, I survived. Made it to the solo camping trip I had been thinking about for months. It's nothing I haven't done before. Even the trails and campsite are familiar. Still, it had been a few years and I was itching to get away from the city and all the noises it pounds into my head.

I head down the backroads, the pine trees growing thicker the further out I get from the city. At first I pass a lot of cars, mostly traveling into the city. But after a while, when the trees are so tall I can't see over them, so thick I can barely see through them, I'm the only car on the road.

I see the sign for the campsite and turn, heading down the dirt path to the small parking lot about a half mile in from the road. There are a couple of other jeeps and trucks here, one of them belonging to the park ranger who sits inside the small welcome center/general store. I head inside to use the bathroom, the last little "luxury" I give myself before spending a week away from everyone.

"Hi mis- Autumn! Haven't seen you for what...3 years?"

I smile at the man behind the counter, giving him a little wave. "Hey Jay! You're still working here? I thought you'd have retired by now." I grab a couple of bags of the beef jerky they have on sale. It's made by a local farmer and I can only get it here.

Jay chuckles. "Next year. Maybe."

"Don't push yourself too hard, Jay."

"Oh! Mary had her baby! Course she's 3 now."

"Oh really? Damn, 3 already?”

Jay looks at me pointedly. “Well that’s what you get for taking so long to come back and visit.”

Before I can answer, the bell on the entrance door jingles out and Jay glances over my shoulder. “Afternoon, sir! Can I help you with anything?”

“Just a trail map, thanks.” His voice is a little raspy, like he hadn’t used it for a while. I turn to point to the map stand but am momentarily frozen. 

This man is gorgeous.

Tall, short blonde hair, slightly longer up top. Military or ex military judging by the cut and the way he holds himself. But his eyes meet mine, slate blue and what was I saying? 

Jay pinches my arm. “Show him the maps, Autumn.”

I force a small chuckle to Jay, quickly pulling my arm from his pinching fingers and walk towards the blonde man and am hit with the scent of pine, leather, and old spice. Normally I would not be into the latter on a man but the way it mixes with his natural scent is going straight to my head. And other places.

“Here,” I somehow manage to walk past him and grab a map from the spinning holder, turning to hand it to him. The man takes it, his eyes twinkling before he gives me a quick wink.

“Thanks, darlin’.” His eyes quickly flick down my body, or maybe I’m imagining it? 

“You check the weather before coming, sir?”

His eyes are on mine still for another moment before he turns to address Jay. “Yeah I did. This isn’t my first time camping.”

Jay nods. “Military?”

The man chuckles. “Vet. Am I that obvious?”

Jay shrugs. “Not exactly. I just know people. Well, as long as you know what you’re in for. Shouldn’t be too bad but just make sure to stay warm. Not sure how long you’ll be here but if ever a blizzard alert comes up, you come right back here, ok? There’s a small cabin out back that’s open to campers 24/7.”

“Thanks.” The man takes his map, declining Jay’s offer of a bag. He glances back over at me. “See you later, darlin’.”

Fuck. Me. “See you!”

It takes me the usual couple of days to make it to my favorite spot, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I break through the trees, the breathtaking view of the mountains and lake spread out before me. It feels like coming home. 

I get to work setting up my camp, fire and tent good to go, my food hanging from a bag in a tree. I managed to find a place with a good fallen log, perfect for sitting on or against and close enough to the fire so I can keep warm. The wind blows through the nettles of the tall pines around me, the cool, misty breeze coating the exposed skin on my face. I take a deep breath in and out. I really missed being here. 

I do turn on my high powered radio to listen to the weather report twice a day, making sure nothing unexpected is coming. There’s something the weathermen are looking at, but they don’t think it’ll be anything. Still, the temps are sure to drop in a couple of days and there may be a bit of snow. I’m prepared for it, but it’s still good to know. 

A couple days later, I’m about a half mile from camp, walking along the trail near the lake. So far, I’ve seen a couple of deer and a ton of birds. I’m stopped, leaning against a tree trunk to take a quick break when I hear the sound of footsteps on the path ahead. I know I’m not the only one camping, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t instantly on alert. Another couple of seconds of hearing the sound and I know it’s human. From around the curve of the path emerges the man from Jay’s, his pack full and looking heavy. He sounds a little winded and had obviously been walking for a bit. I straighten myself and wave to him.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!”

The man glances at me and smiles, the same one from the shop. “Hey…Autumn?”

I nod. I tell him my real name. “But Jay’s been calling me Autumn since I first came to this trail.”

“Let me guess. It was during Autumn?”

I chuckle. “Jay is original.”

He comes closer, but stops several feet away, breathing heavier. “I’m Will.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.”

He nods to me. “Same.”

He still doesn’t move. “I don’t bite, you know.”

He cocks his head, confused, but then seems to piece it together. “Oh. Well, I didn’t want to freak you out by invading your space.”

I’m fairly positive if this man wanted to take me down, he could’ve done that, several feet away with a pack on or no. “Thank you. That’s…unexpected. And kind.”

“Don’t other people do that?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Oh. Well they should.”

I shrug. “Maybe….but Will, you can come closer. It’s alright.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

He remains rooted to the spot. “You don’t think I’ll take advantage of you?”

I snort. “I’m fairly positive you could’ve done that already, Mr. Military. Don’t threaten me with a good time.” What the fuck did I just say?

I swear I see the tips of his ears turn pink as he chuckles, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. “A good time it would be.”

He comes closer and I gesture towards my bag which is resting against a log. He takes his own off and sets it beside mine, shrugging and stretching his shoulders a bit. “I really should’ve taken a break before now. Gettin’ old sucks.”

I chuckle, my eyes roaming down his arms, the flannel on his shirt hugging his biceps in all the right ways. 

“You look in great shape to me.” 

His eyes meet mine and we stare at each other for several moments before I blink, shaking my head a little to rid myself of the not at all PG thoughts I was having.

“So…are you trying to make it back to that cabin before the weather moves in?”

Will clears his throat, giving his own head a little shake before crossing his arms across his broad chest. “That was the plan.”

“Have you listened to the weather station today?”

He furrows his brows and I melt. “No, why?”

“The uh..storm? Is moving a little faster than they thought. No way you’ll make it back to Jay’s cabin before it starts to pick up.”

“Shit.” Will sighs, bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I really thought I’d be able to make it but my leg was acting up.” 

I can tell he’s not used to this, needing breaks. He seems like the kind of guy that just pushes through the pain. Until it pushes back.

“Come on. You can stay with me.” I push back from the tree and lean down to get my pack, swinging it up on my back. When I look back up at Will, he’s staring at me, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Did you just invite me to your camp?”

I adjust the straps on my shoulders. “Yeah. Let’s get going so that way we aren’t stuck.”

“You trust me?”

I click the last strap into place across my chest before I look at him. “I thought we established that I do.”

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes moving between mine and I swear he glances down at my lips. “You sure you have the space?”

I shrug. “May be a little bit of a squeeze but temps are dropping anyway. We can always find a way to get warm.” What did I just say?

A small smirk spreads across his beautiful face. “I’m sure we can, darlin’.” He leans down and grabs his own pack, situating it on his back before he gestures to me. “Lead the way.”

Talking to Will is easy, comforting almost. He tells me about his time in the army, Delta Force, and his brothers, including his real life brother Benny. A golden retriever of a man if I ever heard of one. He asks me questions about my life and listens intently, actually interested in what I have to say. Before I know it, we’re back at my camp. Will stops for a moment, staring out over the lake at the mountain behind it and whistles. “You found a hell of a view.”

“Thanks. It took me a couple years to find but now it’s like home.”

Will helps me start a fire and get food cooking, laughter and conversation flows just as easily as before and I find myself gravitating towards him, physically. But he also seems to be scooting closer and closer until our legs are nearly touching. Snowflakes start to fall, coming in faster and thicker.

“We should probably get the sleeping bags set up before it gets hard to see,” Will suggests, his breath puffing out in tendrils in front of him. 

“Good idea.”

Will gets the outside of our little camp ready as the sun starts to dip and night comes. We manage to get in the tent before the snow really starts to come down. It’s a little bigger than a one room tent, but we’re still pretty snug in here now that there’s two of us. And he’s so fucking broad. I shift my sleeping bag over a bit more and Will slides his down next to mine. He looks between our bags and then up at me, his eyebrows pulled together in slight concern.

“What is it?” I ask nervously.

“It’s…nevermind.”

I punch his arm and have to choke back a scream at how firm it is. “Just tell me.”

He chuckles while he dramatically rubs his arm. “Ouch,” he smirks as I roll my eyes. “But we should zip our bags together. For warmth. It’s about to get pretty cold.”

“William Miller. Are you asking to get in my sleeping bag with me?”

He shifts nervously, his ear tips turning red. “No! I uh, that’s not… I mean, it’s basic survival. I didn’t mean.. I don’t want you to think-”

I laugh then, cutting him off. “Chill out, Will. I know how you meant it. You’re a nice guy. I just like watching you blush.”

He rubs at his face. “You’re dangerous.”

“How dare you, good sir. I am a lady.”

He snorts and I swear under his breath he says “I bet you are.”

We get the bags zipped together and slide down in them, trying to leave as much space as we could between us. After several minutes of us shuffling around awkwardly, Will chuckles.

“You wanna be the big spoon or the little one?”

My laughter rings out in the tent joining his, tears streaming down my face at this brilliant tension breaker. “I’ll be little,” I choke out. I turn around, facing my back towards him. I feel him scoot closer and heat instantly rushes through my body, pooling between my thighs. Can he hear how my heart is about to beat from my chest?

“Is this ok?” Will’s breath fans out over my neck, goosebumps erupting in it’s wake. 

“Uh..I uh…y-yeah. All good. Is it uh, close enough? For survival, I mean.”

Will clears his throat. “Uh, well I mean. We should probably be, uh, closer. To stay warm. For survival, of course.”

“Well if it’s for survival, scoot as close as you want.”

He makes a choking sound but shifts closer, his body molding to mine. I can feel his hand hovering, unsure of where to place it. I reach back and take it, gently placing it on my hip, trying to ignore the heat that immediately ignites, flowing down between my legs. The wind blows outside, the tent rustling with it. I shift my hips a little and Will’s grip on my hip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. And I can feel something else pressing against my ass and I swallow hard.

“You’re going to have to stop moving around, darlin’. Please.” He chokes out the last word, sounding restrained. 

I take a deep breath. “What if I don’t want to?”

His grip tightens even more and I know I’ll bruise if he keeps it up. And I don’t care if I do. 

“I’m trying really hard to be respectful, Autumn.”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “Don’t be respectful then.”

A quiet growl emanates from him. “What are you saying?”

I make sure I have his gaze. “Be disrespectful. If it’s permission you want, you have it.” 

He watches me for a long moment before I feel him shift, his arm that’s not gripping my hip sliding under my neck. He twists his wrist, sliding it down to unbutton my shirt, his hand finding it’s way down my shirt and under my bra, gently swiping his fingers over my nipple. But at the same time, his other hand slowly moves from my hip, pulling my leg up and over his own, his hand gently teasing my skin as he pushes it under my pantline and between my legs, another groan when he feels how wet I am. I gasp as he nips at my shoulder. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, Autumn.”

I try to respond, but instead a moan escapes me as his fingers start to play with me, gentle circles with alternating pressure as all my blood rushes between my legs, that fire igniting rather quickly. 

“Will, I’m gonna…” I’m not entirely sure what I say as I come, my leg twitching as my body soars, pleasure radiating out from between my thighs, spreading throughout me.

“Feeling warm?” Will speaks deeply in my ear, nibbling a little on my ear lobe.

I nod, my head flying already. “You didn’t even take my clothes off.”

He chuckles against my neck. “I told you I was respectful.”

Surprising even myself, I reach behind me and grab him over his pants. He grunts but pushes against my hand, no doubt relieving some of the pressure. I turn my head towards him, my lips barely brushing his. “Please, Will.”

His eyes are like a storm at sea, blue and wild, darkening. “Tell me.”

I take his hand and push it between my legs where I was growing wetter by the second as I push my hips back, grinding on him. He grunts in my ear. “You gotta stop doing that or I won’t be able to hold myself.”

My hand, still over his, pushes his fingers towards my entrance, his thick fingers circling me, heat and anticipation swirling around me. “D-don’t hold yourself back. Fuck me, Will. Please,” I’m not above begging at this point, his finger continuing to edge me along. But then he’s pulling his hand out of my pants, trying to sit up but struggling because we’re in a sleeping bag. 

“Take off your clothes before I rip them off.”

That command went straight through me, my fingers moving quickly to take off all my clothes, tossing them out of the sleeping bag. Will does the same on his own, starting his own neater pile outside of the sleeping bag. I lay back down, assuming he’ll want the same position. His fingers skim across my side, watching the goosebumps pimple up. But then he pushes my hip down, turning me on my back as he slides over my body, my legs opening as wide as I can to give him space. He’s heavy, fuck he’s so much bigger than I thought as he presses against my clit, hot and pulsing. His eyes find mine, a dark twinkle in them as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I part them and he slides his tongue inside, the kiss quickly heating up as he starts to move his hips. He slides himself over me, back and forth across my clit, swallowing my moans. My fingers dig at his back, silently begging him for more. The pressure is so intense, so much, that if he doesn’t fuck me now, I may just pop. Or go insane. 

Then Will gently takes my wrists, pinning them on either side of my head. His hips shift and with a confident stride, he pushes into me, my head pressing back into the pillow as I feel the pleasant burn, my body stretching to accept him, all of him. He pulls his hips back and pushes in, this time with a little more force and I feel a jolt through my body as he hits some spot at the back of me. I whine as Will continues to fuck me, slowly but forcefully, heat coursing through me. And then, I snap, crying out his name as I squeeze around him, my entire body lighting up and carrying me away from myself, my release made more intense by being pinned under him, unable to move away from the intense pleasure. 

Will’s breaths are heavy, panting out with restraint, like he’s holding himself back. He kisses me again, hard, nipping at my bottom lip before pulling back and out, but before I have a chance to feel too empty, he somehow flips me on my belly, my boobs pressing into the sleeping bag as he arcs my hips up just enough for him to slide in easily, my body greedily taking him in. He lays on top of me, his arms over mine as he laces his fingers with my hands. The weight of him both on and in me sends heat right back between my legs. He bites at my neck and shoulder as he fucks into me, deeper and harder with every thrust until I’m coming again, screaming his name into my pillow as I feel his hips sputter, Will whining in my ear as he spills inside of me. His body slumps against mine, both of us trying to catch our breath. Eventually, he slides off of me and to my side, turning me and pulling me to his chest. He nuzzles in my hair, wrapping his arms around me again, one massive hand holding a boob.

“Warm enough?” Will whispers in my ear.

“Mmm..” I respond. “You didn’t tell me you could fuck, Will.”

He chuckles and kisses my neck. “I’m restricted by this sleeping bag, darlin’. I did the best I could.”

The whine that escapes me is loud. “I’d love to see that.”

“Well when I’m done with you after this camping trip darlin’, you’re going to need some time to recover. And then I plan on showing you exactly how my fucking is.”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi  

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@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[chloessleepystories]

Rabbit Hole

Based on a true story

Zoe was slumped down in the back row of the classroom, scrolling through Tumblr on her phone instead of paying attention to the teacher. Like usual.

Oh, here’s a sexy picture to share. Here’s a gif to attach a few lines of dialogue to… She liked teasing the boys (and girls) online, and they liked teasing her. Especially when she was in class and couldn’t do anything about her rising horniness.

Oooh, a hypno story, her favorite. She checked that the teacher was droning on, and not looking her direction, and started reading. Just a couple paragraphs in, she knew it was a good one. She reblogged it to finish reading later, and to share it with her followers (her many, many followers… how had that happened?) and kept scrolling. Ooh! A spiral! Don’t get distracted… But uunnnfff, so easy to get distracted… to get drawn in…

She shook herself, sharing the spiral with a drooling smiley face, and moved on.

“I’m a little concerned, looking at your last batch of papers, that so many of you got to college without apparently learning how to punctuate a simple compound sentence, much less to fill it with original thoughts…” Miss Thompson was saying.

Zoe squeezed her thighs together, feeling the arousal spread through her body. She looked around. Nobody looking. Good. She knew she should be listening, should be taking notes, but all she could think about was her needy pussy.

The constant alerts from her phone kept drawing her back to the glowing rectangle in her hand. BUZZ. Another favorite blog had just shared something, Tumblr wanted her to know. BUZZ. Someone was tagging her in a pic of one of her favorite porn stars. BUZZ… 

She was powerless. She had to look, every time the phone buzzed. Every time Tumblr fed her more. She didn’t used to be like this, did she? She used to have, like, an attention span and stuff? Could leave her phone alone for a few hours? Now she was addicted… like she had conditioned herself to salivate at the buzzer. 

Or been conditioned, came a whisper. 

Been brainwashed. 

Cuntwashed.

Drippy cunt. Salivating pussy…

BUZZ. 

Ooh! a hot little gif that someone wanted her to see – “wanna ride me like this?” he asked, adding Zoe’s handle. Where was the teacher? Zoe knew she should scan for Miss Thompson again, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

BUZZ BUZZ. Three more guys wanting to talk to her privately. She was already keeping four conversations going…

This one, for instance, was telling her, in detail, what he would be doing to her if they were in a hotel room together right now. She was giving as well as she was getting, egging him on, hoping he was stroking to her words the way she wished she could be rubbing to his. This one was begging her to punish him, and reveling in her attempts to be domineering. And this one… oh, this one kept sending spirals, and inductive texts, drawing her ever downward (or trying to), making her sleepy, making her horny… making her a mindnumbed cockslave…

She tapped the little pencil symbol to make a public post.

“You guys are making me so horny!!!” she typed.

I’m supposed to be paying attention to the teacher right now but my tumblr feed is full of porn and 3 of you fuckers are having hot conversations with me trying to make me horny and IT’S FUCKING WORKING I’m sure my neighbors can smell me I’m so turned on I can feel how drippy I am goddammit I need to stroke I’m not gonna make it

That was a mistake, of course. As she knew it would be. The sharks smelled blood in the water, and circled.

“Just keep watching little slave. Soon you’ll be my little cock hungry whore”

“It’s just so nice to be able to turn off your brain for a while, ya know? Join me?”

“And when I say “horny bunny” you’ll have a powerful urge…”

“Mmm damn what a view! Your nice tight pussy wrapped around my cock feels so damn good. I’m going to enjoy fucking you hard, bottoming out hitting your womb”

“…And then one day you wake up and you’re an empty headed pink bimbo, with no thoughts in your dumb bimbo head but getting bigger tits and pleasing your Mistress’s pussy…”

Another public post:

Ogod now ur all piling on cumming our of the woodwork why csnt i turn off this app why do i keep lookin im not gonna make it im such a dumb hotny cow 

Sent.

And back to messaging, the words pummeling her brain –

Blank. Obedient. Responsive. Counting from 10. Letting your mind slide away. Relaxed. Empty. No thoughts. 8. Letting go….

Then, even before she could register the shadow over her desk, a hand snatched the phone from her fingers.

“You know the rules about phones in my class, Zoe,” said Miss Thompson. Zoe made a choked whimper, her fingers mindlessly twitching after the phone.

“You can get it back later. If you’re good.”

If you’re good. If you’re a good girl. Good girls obey.

Zoe whimpered again, as Miss Thompson walked away. She was going to have to sprint to the ladies’ room when class was over. The phone would have to wait. Her clit was throbbing… and she needed to obey.

*****

Later, after everyone had filed out, Miss Thompson carefully and (BUZZ) meticulously wiped clean the blackboard. She liked the board to be as neat (BUZZ) and tidy as her desk.

(BUZZ)

What on earth was – Oh. Right. That girl’s phone was still on the desk. Vibrating away, for some unknown reason.

She sat down and picked it up, turning it on. Silly child didn’t seem to have a lock on the –

A rainbow of porn leapt out of the screen and slapped Miss Thompson about the face.

Cocks going into young women’s mouths. A girl’s tongue on a pussy. “Zoe, are you still there?” Breasts, so many breasts. “Zoe, girl, look how hard you made me…” A maelstrom of dark and light flesh that she couldn’t make sense of for a moment, until she saw the caption “gangbanged fuckslut made airtight with BBC”… which, to be frank, didn’t ENTIRELY explain the picture to Miss Thompson, but it let her figure out what some of the shapes were…

Horrified, repulsed, Miss Thompson started scrolling. And couldn’t stop scrolling. Stories of incest and bondage. Lewd photos and gifs, scenes of decadence and degradation. She shook her head, her mouth open, but she couldn’t stop…

And the hypnosis. Over and over in the girl’s feed, the hypnosis! Glassy eyed girls with drooping mouths, baring their breasts… Women with spirals in their eyes, and cocks in their mouths… Flashing gifs with pictures and words, too fast to follow, telling her how she should be, how she must be, how she knew she already was, if she would just admit it to herself… Inductions, and fantasies, and more spirals, and submissive, drooling women, eager to serve cock, to serve pussy, to become slaves to their own needy cunts…

Miss Thompson hadn’t noticed how hard her nipples had gotten. She hadn’t noticed how wet her own cunt was, until she found herself dipping in a finger… She bucked against her hand, but didn’t stop stroking… just kept scrolling… 

Someone calling himself Master of Mystery – except with some of the letters replaced by numbers – BUZZed into a private message. “Getting pretty horny, Zoe? Pretty needy and desperate?”

“No,” she found herself typing. “I mean, no, I’m – I’m not… No.”

“Oh, you certainly sounded pretty desperate to me. You sounded like a little slut who needed permission to cum… A naughty fucktoy who can’t stop touching her princess parts even though she’s not supposed to…”

Miss Thompson bit her lip and with an effort pulled her hand away from her pussy. “I’m not Zoe. I am Miss Thompson, her teacher,” she typed.

She tried to pull herself together.

“And you should keep a civil tongue in your head, young man.”

“Ohhh! Naughty, naughty, teacher… Are you looking through a confiscated phone? And getting TURNED ON by someone else’s Tumblr porn? You are, aren’t you… Go ahead, you can admit it…”

“i” she typed and sent by mistake.

She cursed.

“I will do no such thing. I am… I am putting the phone down now.”

“No you’re not.”

She hesitated. He seemed so sure. She waited, panting.

“You won’t, because you would have already without saying anything. You would have before you got so horny scrolling through her feed.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Because you are horny, aren’t you? All pent-up, tied up in knots…”

“Yes, yes, I am, OK, but there’s nothing wrong with that”

“No, not at all. Tell you what. You seem tense. Let me help you relax. Can we do that?”

“Um”

“Just focus on your shoulders for a second. Feel how tight they are? Tighten them up even more, just for a second. Take a deep breath in. And then let it out, and as you do, feel all the tension go out of your shoulders…”

“what”

“Sshh shh you don’t have to say anything just listen. I’m going to count, and with each number you’re going to release a little tension, and it’s going to turn into warmth… warmth spreading through your body… 

“And then maybe we’ll look at a spiral together for a while… You’ll like that…”

*****

Zoe was feeling SO much better – though her legs were still a little wobbly – as she walked toward the classroom door. She couldn’t believe she’d left her phone behind! She hoped she could get it back quietly, without much fuss. There didn’t seem to be a class in there now. Maybe she could just slip in and grab it?

She eased the door open gently… and then almost dropped her backpack in surprise.

Miss Thompson was sprawled, nearly nude, in her wooden rolling chair! Her skirt was bunched around her middle, panties on the floor, white blouse and bra tangled on her desk. Most surprising of all, one hand was operating Zoe’s phone, and the other hand was operating Miss Thompson’s bushy cunt!

She stepped closer, sliding the backpack gently to the floor. The teacher’s breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy… and sure enough, Zoe could see a spiral on the glowing screen. She tiptoed close enough to read over her shoulder.

You want to watch

To let the spiral suck you in

To let my spiral suck away all resistance

You want to become mindless for me, because it feels so good to stop thinking

Each word you read will bring you pleasure, and each second you spend watching will make you sink deeper and deeper, until you can’t help but obey…

She reached around her teacher’s body, and cupped both breasts at once.

Miss Thompson gasped, and then relaxed with a moan as Zoe began kneading her nipples.

“How are you doing, miss?” she whispered.

“Can’t… Can’t cum. Need to… but don’t… don’t have permission…”

“Mmmm.” Zoe tweaked her nipples, massaging her surprisingly full and warm tits. “I know it’s a lot to handle if you’re not used to it. I’ve been sliding into this rabbit hole a bit at a time for months, so I’ve built up a liiiittle bit of an immunity.” Partially true, anyway. “But my feed and my followers must have hit you like a ton of bricks.” 

Zoe giggled to herself, as her teacher panted.

“Who are you talking to,” Zoe murmured.

“M-Master of Mystery,” Miss Thompson gasped, her back arching.

Ah yes, thought Zoe. Also known as Kevin.

“Tell him I’m here. And ask him what I should do to you.”

“Master…” Miss Thompson typed, and after a moment, responded.

“He says to get on your knees and lick my s-slutty, juicy c… cunt.”

Zoe smiled. “That’s what I was hoping he was going to say,” she murmured as she knelt.

After all, she thought. Good girls obey.

[reizoudesu]

day two - dancing in the rain / chilling under the covers

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ context: it’s raining today; you and your lover had nothing else to do; nothing could satiate your boredom!

until an idea hits you— go outside and play, or stay hidden in the sheets. will you risk yourself (and your partner) catching a cold, or remain safely in the comfort of their embrace, inside your homely paradise?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fandom/s: genshin impact

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ character/s: aether, venti, kazuha, heizou, xiao, wanderer

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ genre/s: fluffily fluff 

notes: i’m back with self-made prompt. our internet at home was being a meanie six (or more) days ago (we literally lost signal for THAT long), so apologies for the lack of response TT

heads-up/warnings: not proofread, (y/n) is a stubborn ahh in other scenarios, lowercase letters (except in one particular part in heizou's, it had caps on ;) ), long paragraphs, wanderer is named “kuni,” kuni wants cuddles (he’s greedy af), affectionate nicknames (aether - love; venti - little windblume, dear; kazuha - love, baby; heizou - darling; wanderer/kuni - dork, babe)

©reizoudesu

do not copy, steal, mark as your own work (but feel free to repost <3)

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

“are you sure? it’s pouring quite hard out there…” aether - cautious, but eventually gives up and goes with you

you peer out the open window of the living room, the soft pitter-patter of rain falls upon the roof down to the ground, coupled with the occasional clanking of the plates across the room, you just ate, yet you were getting impatient, but for what reason? you were probably bored…

“love, are you okay?” asked the blonde as he looked at you, eyes of topaz and that sweet smile on his lips. you smile back and let him embrace you, fully enveloped in his arms. “bored…” you mutter dully, gazing at the dreary weather. “yeah, it’s gotten so cold lately,” aether added with a frown, a soft hum as he caressed your hair. until… your eyes met his, an idea formed inside that imaginative brain of yours.

“…ah, don’t give me that look,” he sighs, and you giggle in response. “i wanna go out and play in the rain,” and as expected, he gazes at you with eyebrows furrowed, “are you sure? it’s pouring quite hard out there…”

but the rain looks so pretty… “i can’t wait here any longer, and besides, it’s only a drizzle!” you try to convince him, but he only gave you a shake of his head, a gentle smile of concern still plastered.

“(y/n), you might catch a cold,” aether limply replies, “that won’t convince me from having fun with my boyfriend!” you were a stubborn one, that’s for sure. it’s obvious your lover finds your personality endearing yet frustrating at the same time. eventually, after half a minute of persuading did aether finally give up trying to argue with you, and ran off to another room. confused, you follow him, until he brings out a pair of raincoats with a grin.

“wouldn’t want you to get wet, would we? c’mon love, let’s head out.”

he wasn’t sure why, but this wasn’t just your persuasion that draws him in. he recalled having his twin sister lumine asking the same request when they were kids. seeing you happy— prancing about in the rain in your adorable transparent raincoat glistening in the rain— was the same warmth he felt when he took lumine out of the open the same way he did.

suddenly, a loud crash of thunder scared the living daylights out of you, and you ran back to aether for fortress. he got scared as well, and you two huddle together.

"did you hear that?!" "y-yeah, i did..."

for some reason, you didn't want to let go of your boyfriend, and you were crumbling like fine powder in the midst of a storm. aether was about to laugh at this yet he refrained, seeing your shocked figure tremoring like a maraca in his grip. putting a hand under your chin to lift your head towards him, he beamed warmly, and now, you were looking at a bright sunshine of a smile he's wearing.

"don't worry. i'm not going anywhere."

he’ll cherish this moment forever, hold it inside his heart as if his memories made themselves home within it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“who cares when we get drenched? let’s keep playing!” venti - energetic and thrilled, a sunshine in the rain

ah, the ever-radiant venti, who finds the positives in all the negatives, the rays of light in complete darkness. how did he even deserve your love? basically, the weather is gloomy, and you two had the same frequencies of ennui, which means, you two are very, very bored.

right now, you two are at home, lying next to each other on the couch like two lazy dogs, with him frequently twirling at his braids of teal while you skim through the book you’ve read twice. you cast your gaze at the window, the grey clouds drearily casting a shadow over Mondstadt. it’s merely a light drizzle, but it’s still enough to make one shiver to the bone.

“oh wait! i have an idea,” you blurt out, abandoning the book onto the coffee table, and your cheerful boyfriend perks up at your voice filled with excitement once again. “ah, little windblume! what’s your idea?”

“what if… we go outside in the rain?” you ask him, and his dark eyes lit up with joy, as always. “i have a better one! we can even go out in our raincoats and stomp in the puddles! haha, i like that, my dear (y/n)~”

and so, you did. you went out with your matching raincoats, with you holding the parasol that could cover two people at most. you two were practically children playing outside a stormy weather, jumping in puddles, without a single care in their lives. 

you were starting to worry when the wind suddenly blew away your parasol, and in an instinct, you chased after it, only for the wind to carry it upwards, far, far from the hands could reach until it nested neatly on the roof of the angel’s share. “i lost my umbrella! we might get sick at this rate!” 

despite this, venti was a little surprised but still grins at you. at this point, you can’t tell if it’s just the wind or was it all your lover’s doing. you shot a glare at his mischief, and he laughs. as always, it should be him. but he managed to apologize a second later “sorry, it’s just that you’re holding back from having so much fun.” 

this caught you completely off guard, but he steps closer and told you this:

“who cares when we get drenched? let’s keep playing!” venti cheerfully declares, putting up his hood and putting his hands in yours. they were damp, but warmer that you thought.

yes, nothing is more enjoyable than reliving a happy memory in a perceived sad scene with your beloved boyfriend.

(you two got really sick right after and jean came to nurse you ‘till full health)

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“nothing is better than a downpour after a moment of a sunny adventure.” kazuha - doesn’t mind one bit, also concerned for your safety, but likes a moment of adventure with you

despite having rented yourselves a home, you two wanted to roam around Inazuma, taking breaks by seeking shelter under trees, canopies of restaurants and houses, or abandoned camps set by treasure hoarders. though you initially thought this is dangerous, he always assured that you both have the blades in your hands for protection. until one day, kazuha tugs at your hand with a warning, right when you hear the faint fore-coming of a storm; “rain is coming… let’s go find shelter.”

kazuha has a knack for predicting the weather by the wind picking up its pace, the few drops of rain from afar, the faintest rumbling of thunder that declares the glory of the Almighty Shogun, the dark monochrome clouds enveloping the once-blue skies. that’s just how perceptive your boyfriend. you’ll have to thank him for that later.

unfortunately, luck is not on your side today, because you were settling right under a tree as you two found nothing. the only shade that served you well was the branches of the old oak tree covered completely in green leaves. he eventually picks up on your shivering; you forgot to bring your raincoat— but he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and waist, and in an instant, your blush deepens; not from the cold, but from kazuha’s warmth.

“you’re shivering, baby,” kazuha whispers, his kind smile and his scarlet eyes making your heart melt. how could a ronin like him be so gentle with you as his partner? he’s no fighter, he is a lover. like always, he enjoys a moment of solace with you in the chaos. he even composed a few haikus to the rhythm of the rain, waiting in intervals to let a few drops fall to the ground with a small splash.

despite the shivering, you were okay, at least warmer than before. you couldn’t come up with conversational topics, but one thought occurred to you.

“kazu, what if… we just have to go in the rain and search for more shelter?” that question made him raise his eyebrows in thought and concern, “hm? are you sure, (y/n)? we can’t have you catching a cold, not in this state.”

“well, it’s not pouring that hard," you tell him with a smile. that fire of determination in your eyes was hard to extinguish, and kazuha was pretty much drawn to it in a way as if he was a moth to her flame. "pretty please?"

kazuha gazes back at you, and immediately concluded that he was done. he sighed and gave only a defeated beam; "alright, just stay close to me and i'll keep you covered, okay love?"

you and your lover took the risk as you ran deep into the storm, the cold air hitting your faces along with the pouring rain. the ground was slippery, and you found yourself slipping while kazuha ended up almost tumbling over you, your screams echoing each other as you fell right upon a puddle of the concrete floor.

for a moment, your eyes meet into a matching emotion of shock, your frame hovering over his own as he lay drenched in the puddle, before you began to snort. kazuha brushed his bangs away from his face and grinned in amusement.

"what's so funny?" "nothing, i think i like the view from up here."

that remark made him flush in a slight red, and he laughed louder. the happiness was utterly contagious, so contagious you could shed tears.

“nothing is better than a downpour after a moment of a sunny adventure.”

maybe he's right. even beauty lies within a mess of life's storm.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“c’mon, let’s head over there, i think i know a good spot around here.” heizou - yes, absolutely yes. a mundane day turned perfect because of one main ingredient: you

"why hello there, darling," the detective greeted, and you nod with a smile, "hi, heizou!" you just came back from finishing a commission when it started pouring, along with a few thundering that rang in your ears.

"i reckon you just finished a commission? from tsurumi island, i presume?" heizou asked, noticing your troubled look. yes, indeed, the anguish you wore tells the tale that you hated doing that request ever again.

"yeah," you weakly told him, wiping away the rainwater from your hair before heizou hands you a towel and sits next to you. "actually, you're in for a treat! i was just about to head to ritou to investigate... and i could use a pair of hands..."

as always, you like a little adventure with your beloved detective, so you pushed yourself to go. "sure, two heads are better than one." you say, a smile playing on your lips.

but there's one problem... the rain.

"hang on, with this weather, you certainly aren't planning to get us both drenched, right?" you ask skeptically, and he eyed you with a gleam. ah, that look on his face again.

"man alive, you don't trust me that easily, huh? too bad i brought your favorite raincoat.," he unfolds the garment with a feigned sigh, "oh well, guess we'll just have to tuck it away again-"

"actually-! i can keep that," you stopped him, yanking it off from his hands before he could go inside and return it to your room.

you two ventured out into the woods, with your lover going on a small tangent about the case he solved. sneaking past the guards and bumping into gorou, you listened through the whole thing, even if all of it was going nowhere. besides, he just can't help it when you two were basically attached by the hip.

with little time, the rain poured harder, and you were hanging onto the last of your raincoat hoodie, until he looks at the spot nearby. “c’mon, let’s head over there, i think i know a good spot around here.”

and there it is, the harbor. the wood that makes the port where the shore meets the ocean. you look around, not noticing heizou lagging behind you, there's nothing but empty houses, fallen leaves, and the empty area that surrounds the island, "i don't see anything," you say, confused, until he tugs at your arm with a cheeky smile.

"shh, quickly now," he shushes you, and right on the exact fourth beat-

CRASH!!

a lightning hit the surface of the ocean, and a sudden thrill creeps up your spine from the flash. he eventually held you tightly, arms framing your waist like a protective shield, hidden behind a cold concrete wall where your heads can only be seen.

"...you brought me here just to traumatize me, do you?" "oh come on, the look on your face says otherwise."

it's irritating that you're a little more amazed than scared. you were scared, but heizou's embrace took that uneasiness away from you. there was no case, just a little bonding together with your boyfriend.

"i still don't forgive you for lying. but just don't move an inch and we're good. okay?"

"i won't. anything for you."

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“…are you serious? you might catch a cold.” xiao - he won’t let you get sick; not once, not ever

it's true that demons don't stop for the rain, as xiao told you not too long ago. but the idea of going right into a commotion of a storm confused him. you suggested the idea as he was just about to leave the wangshu inn to have a moment of solitude.

"you mortals sure have the audacity to do such activities," he commented with a furrowed gaze, "why did you even suggest that?"

"ever heard of relaxation and fun?" you asked rather stubbornly, yet xiao only gave you a grunt in response, not believing you.

"playing in the rain doesn't even spark any joy in me," he flatly declined, yet you gave him a look; here comes the begging again, "come onnn! at this rate, you even have to point out all the good things you can get from playing in the rain.

"people can stomp around in puddles, take a small shower, anything of that sort! love, come on, just give it a chance!"

"...are you serious? you might catch a cold," xiao stares bewildered at you, and he's also irritated by the idea of you being so reckless and getting into danger. defeated, you slump in your seat, the couch carrying your pouty stature. he looks away, a little guilty for having to put up with you all the time, but he really doesn't want you to go.

"listen," he began, uncrossing his arms as he gazes at you with a grim look, "i don't want you to get in trouble. not after what happened."

so he remembered, you did get sick after scouting the harbor with beidou on a rainy afternoon. it's a silly thought, but you remained frowning at him. "fiiine..."

sighing, you lie on the couch, and the yaksha looks at you shortly before heading outside, not without an order, "stay here, i'll be back."

you wondered what your lover would do, it's raining, yet he wanted you to stay. despite this, you were getting bored to death, so you decided to sleep a wink this afternoon.

you couldn't remember the last time you slept this long, and your sense of smell picked up on xiao's presence beside you. before even realizing it, he had lifted your head and put your head against a pillow, and you heard him place a platter on the coffee table before his parting footsteps.

thinking he was gone, you rose and stretched from the couch, and you smelled... almond tofu. there was a note attached, written in fancy handwriting.

"enjoy your lunch, (y/n)" - xiao

your heart fluttered and you hastily took the hot bowl of the meal and ate with soft, savory bites as the food melted in your tongue. in the distance, xiao is watching, leaning against the wall of the room, his face heating up in red hue as a ghost of a smile make its way on his face.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“hmph, how childish. just stay inside, you don't want to get sick, do you?” kuni - thinks it’s too childish, but he’s just feeling cranky and greedy; he doesn’t want you to leave

"kuni, just once!" you wailed in protest, on your knees, clutching the pillow in front of you just to act cute, but kuni was not buying it. he growled in annoyance, "i said no."

you tried everything. coax him with tea, nothing; getting him to leave the bed (either pulling, pushing, or dragging), nothing; threatening by ignoring him, nothing; giving him an embrace, he hesitantly complies with another hug, but still nothing. making him get out of bed from the storm is closest to impossible.

you slumped behind the leg of the bed and groaned in defeat. that little dastard... your boyfriend being like this as always.

he knew you so much that he could memorize your antics, much to your disappointment.

"kuniii! get out of bed!!" you scream with a frustrated groan, and kuni replied with an exasperated tone, "just why did you want to make me leave the bed?"

it's stupid, but you had to try, "i like the rain, okay? it's stupid, but i wanna go out and play!" that made him stop, but he clicked his tongue and crossed his arms.

"hmph, how childish," you hear him say. finally, you gave up trying. he's not leaving anytime soon, so you grumpily plop on the bed next to him.

"you're such a killjoy." "..."

you heard him sigh, and then a sudden force drags you back up to bed, a surprised gasp escaping you as he put his head on your shoulder, a small groan.

"playing in the rain won't get you anywhere, you'll only get yourself sick," he grumbled, as if he's chiding you. you know that, but what significance does it even hold? you're getting so bored.

he picks up on your boredom and turned you around, his violet eyes meeting yours, and you blushed as crimson as a rose in full bloom. it always spurred a reaction out of him, a small grin tugging at his lips, but going serious once more.

"just stay inside, you don't want to get sick, do you?" he requested, forming a small tint of pink in his cheeks as he held you closer for comfort. the only thing you could think right now is probably:

"archons, kuni, what's gotten into you?"

despite this, you comply to his request and just bury your head into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his frame as the two of you remained cuddling in the bed.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

©reizoudesu

[louisupdates]

Louis Tomlinson Is Officially Embracing His Gray Hairs at 32 — and of Course Fans Are Swooning!

The singer leaned into his silver fox status while at Glastonbury Festival in England

By Hedy Phillips Published on July 1, 2024 05:32PM EDT

Louis Tomlinson with his sister Lottie Tomlinson at Glastonbury Festival. PHOTO: LOTTIE TOMLINSON/INSTAGRAM

Louis Tomlinson is officially a silver fox.

The singer, 32, embraced his grays while at the Glastonbury Festival in Somerset England during the last weekend in June. Tomlinson's normally shaggy brunette hair had wisps of gray strands peeking through, mostly on the sides.

Tomlinson was at the festival with a group of friends and his sister, Lottie Tomlinson, and the "Silver Tongues" singer and his crew made waves for bringing a TV onto festival grounds to watch the England football club's UEFA match because there was nowhere else to watch it during the festival. Thanks to his bold decision, Tomlinson (and his grays) made it all over social media, onto the news (including the BBC!) and into headlines.

Tomlinson's fans have been quick to swoon over his status as a silver fox, praising him all over every social media platform.

One person captured a video of Tomlinson from one of the newscasts, adding little emojis to the gray hairs and wrote, "I will protect you louis’ gray hair, while another added, "Louis’ gray hair being one of the most talked about twitter discourse, with locals writing paragraphs to defend him was not on my bingo card. Atleast everyone is appreciating this silver-fox dilf."

Tomlinson, who rose to fame as part of One Direction alongside Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Niall Horan, has slowly been embracing his gray hair over the past couple years as he's gotten older (and the quick-witted and sassy artist would probably have words for us for calling it out).

A few gray hairs have poked through all over his head from time to time, and fans have captured the evidence in plenty of photos that they've shared on social media (with fervor). While he hasn't yet gone fully gray, he's gone in and out of brown and gray phases — even with his facial hair.

One thing is for certain, his fans, are here for the grays. One fan put it very simply (also quoting one of Tomlinson's own tattoos): "let's just say I am a silver fox fan and will always be a silver fox fan. Love the gray hair. It is What it is!"

[bogleech]

Ok but I have seen you talk about this so many times, even referencing it in your old cartoons, so I gotta ask - when and how did you fall in love with neopets, like that?

Wait, is it that obscure now? I didn't know a single person from its inception to roughly 2010 who didn't have a neopets account. It was the single biggest gaming-esque name on the internet for years. Celebrities casually mentioned playing it, it got mainstream marketing tie-ins, it had plush toys people waited in line to buy up and a TCG made by the same company as Magic the Gathering. It's not that I especially "fell in love with neopets" like it's a niche thing but that there was a time it was almost outselling Pokemon, so it's just another huge cultural phenomenon that was a big part of everyone's lives during my teens to twenties, and hits my special interest in creature design since it has THOUSANDS (beyond the pets alone) ranging in quality from extremely creative to just plain heinous. I personally only got invested in it when they introduced the mutant pets, though, because it started out having almost like a "rule" against making any pets that were "ugly." They'd joke about it as a prank for instance, and originally only featured the mutants as part of a storyline they never intended players to actually adopt. They even had a fake alternate version of the site with fake "adoptions coming soon" and somehow didn't anticipate the userbase genuinely wanting the slime creatures.

The Chia and Aisha were my favorites but mainly the chia because that kind of "scuzzy" creature was already my own design aesthetic, polar opposite of the site's established style and reminded me of if Jeff Goldblum got fused with a tardigrade instead of a fly:

Is that just me? I feel like the tardigrade similarity jumps right out but I think it was an accident and they were possibly actually thinking of the rotting giant from Nausicaa:

The fact that they intended its design to be unlovably ugly and were surprised anyone wanted it only made it more sympathetic. Eventually they made mutants available and I got fully invested into playing, at the time having to spend hours a day on their little flash games until I could afford a mutant after months of labor. But then a couple of years later they just abruptly decided they really didn't feel like having its design around anymore and "updated" it, which back then was automatic for all pets owned by all players with no going back:

It had unfortunately been fairly common that they'd just completely, totally redo a pet like this with no warning and no user poll to make sure it's what anyone wanted. You just had to pray they never did it to your favorites.

All the other mutants in that earlier image would also get completely changed or never released at all. They still kept some of the other "gross" mutants and would make even grosser, so that wasn't even part of the reasoning. Just the random whims of mad gods I guess. I think what killed the game for a lot of people was actually when they did this to basically everyone at once, standardizing almost all the pet artwork so they could wear clothes in their new dressup system. It wasn't as drastic as replacing a sludge guy with some kind of hairy leaf guy but it did eliminate hundreds of technically unique designs from the site, and I found someone else's examples they put together so I thankfully don't have to do it myself:

If anyone's not familiar enough with neopets or didn't figure that out from the last paragraph, the ones on the right are just recolors of the same exact art as all members of their species with added accessories (now wearable items) Players used to work hard to get pets they wanted based on their unique poses and personality, but you could only keep the original art for a small number of these. The customization feature kind of attracted a different new fandom, from what people say, but it never approached a fraction the site's peak, which is probably how the brand wound up getting sold to some NFT bros who aren't even involved in the site itself and supposedly never even spoken to its remaining staff outside some business emails? This is unrelated to the brief period it was bought by scientologists and the siterunners had to fight back against their propaganda leaking into it. I really didn't expect to turn this response into a mini article, I should really just make a thing on bogleech.com about it sometime. Some of my tumblr mutuals to this day are people I met through the neopets fandom and probably have equally lengthy memories/complaints.

[thedovesaredying]

Zombie!Ghost x F!Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish | Teaser

Synopsis: A little taste tester for you all of Ghoap x F!Reader with our bestest boyo, Zombie Ghost uwu. If y'all want any specific scenarios for this pairing then hit me up in the comments or ask box! If anyone wants to be added to a Zombie!Ghost taglist just ping me.

Words: 1,000~

Rating: NSFW (Only brief)

Warnings: Unedited. Mostly just suggestive except for the last few paragraphs. If anything else needs to be added please poke me!

Previous parts:

Smut Part 1

Smut Part 2

Reminder, this is an 18+ account!

Every couple of weeks you and Ghost meet up with the remaining members of the lieutenant’s squad outside of the large base they’ve set up for themselves. You trade supplies with one another and take some time to catch up with good friends. Surviving outside the safety of a survivor camp or base is difficult and having the opportunity to be in relative safety for a few hours is always appreciated.  

You can’t enter the base since the other survivors living there are, understandably, unwilling to share a space with one of the undead. Besides, waving around a bunch of fresh meat right before Ghost’s nose might not be the best idea. He tolerates the presence of his old captain and sergeant, Price and Gaz, and won’t cause them any trouble, but can and will attempt to tear apart anyone unknown.  

Typically, you don’t mind being unable to access the safe zones, you’ve learned over the months how to get by on your own, but you can’t help occasionally longing for the benefits of having access to a community. You miss having friends and family, people you can talk to since Simon isn’t exactly great at holding conversation anymore.  

You’re more than willing to make that sacrifice, however, as you could never abandon the person you love to the outside world just because you sometimes feel a little lonely.  

While Price and Gaz can spend time around Ghost without fear, but have little bearing on how the zombie behaves, Soap is a completely different story. The moment the mohawked man is spotted, your partner is already sprinting across the grass and either near enough tackling the other man to the ground or scooping him up as though the heavily muscled man weighs nothing.  

Ghost’s Johnny simply laughs at the enthusiasm, never hesitating to return the embrace and excitedly starting to talk his old lieutenant’s ear off. He only ever gets a grunt or growl in return for his rambling, but just that tiny response seems to be all Soap needs to hold a discussion.  

The zombie nuzzles his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck the same way he does with you, rumbling away happily, almost shaking with how eager he is to have his hands on his sergeant again. He’s like an excited puppy, panting and sniffing at the Scot’s face. He’ll insistently rub his cheek against Johnny to try and share scents, growling in annoyance whenever the other man attempts to get away.  

Today was no different, and as soon as Ghost saw poor Johnny he was set upon by the zombie, forced to wait several minutes while Simon noses at him. Ghost starts grumbling when he seems to realise that his sergeant no longer smells like him. Like always, he starts dragging the other man away from the base and toward you, pushing him at you with a pleased growl.  

He seems remarkably satisfied now that his two people are within grasping distance, herding the two of you away from the base as quickly as (in)humanly possible. You had agreed previously that Soap would join you and Ghost outside the base walls for a day or two to scavenge new resources.  

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he was coming with the two of you.  

Originally, you hadn’t considered adding someone new to your relationship, if what you have with Ghost can still be called such, but Johnny slots into place like the missing piece of a puzzle. He’s handsome and kind and funny, with wit sharp as a knife. He’s perhaps the only person who adores Simon as much as you do.  

That affection extends to you, much to Ghost’s complete delight.  

When you aren’t searching for scraps to feed and clothe yourselves, your days together are spent curled up, bodies covered in a thick layer of sweat and other bodily fluids. The three of you make good use of the mattresses you’ve found and stashed away in your little safe house, and have broken the beds in many times over.  

It hurts whenever Johnny eventually has to return to the other survivors. He does important work there and wants to help his teammates, but you can see the way his eyes lose their normal brightness, leaving pools of murky grey in the place of their usual glistening blue.  

It’s heartbreaking watching Ghost stalking the massive walls of the camp, visibly distressed that he can no longer set eyes on the third member of your relationship that’s only just begun to blossom, despite this harsh environment in which it’s flourished. It always takes a fair amount of effort to drag him away from the walls and fences, forcing him to stop searching for a way inside.  

Simon has always had a fairly possessive streak, but his infection has only amplified it. You know that if he were to find a flaw in the barrier between him and the inside of the safe zone then he’d be in there tearing the place to pieces. The zombie doesn’t take kindly to people messing with what’s his.  

You want to bring it up with Johnny, but it’s a little difficult with his tongue currently down your throat. He’s desperate after weeks without either of you, his body pressing you up against the hard chest of Ghost while his hands roam across your skin underneath your shirt. Simon holds your body against him firmly, tongue gently rolling over the side of your neck, teeth dragging dangerously against your vulnerable flesh.  

He allows you to take a mouthful of air, your breathing ragged by the time Johnny’s fingers reach your nipples, giving them both a pinch. His lips are immediately back on yours again, swallowing the surprised sound you make.  

While Soap focuses on caressing your breasts, another set of hands start to slide down your body, snaking into your pants. Although Ghost’s motor skills have deteriorated, he’s still more than capable of seeking out your clit, circling it gently while his other hand dips between your folds to gather the slick steadily gathering between them.  

The sound that draws out of you has Johnny grinning against your mouth. “Ye like tha’, bonnie?” he breathes against your ear, hot air causing goosebumps to appear all down your arms, “we’ll make sure ye feel real good.”  

You’re pretty sure you won’t be doing any walking after this.

[supernaturalscribe67]

Author in the Making

Words: 3,286

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Male!Reader [Preestablished]

Warning(s): None

Summary: The reader loves to write, and he has kept it a secret from his book-loving boyfriend for the longest time, fearing his reaction. What happens when his boyfriend accidentally stumbles upon the document that the reader had been working on for the past several years? How will he react?

The time was 11:53 PM. 

The Winchesters had long since retired to their rooms for the night, leaving (Y/N) alone in the library. His laptop rested on the wooden table in front of him, a small notebook open to his right with a variety of pen colors scattered over the pristine white paper. (Y/N)’s fingers worked rapidly against the keys on the keyboard, his eyes glued to the screen as the words appeared on the Word document. 

For years, (Y/N) had a dream. That dream was to become an author. He had been interested in books ever since he was a little kid, the first book he had ever read was Of Mice and Men when he was in the second grade. Ever since, he introduced himself to a wide array of authors across different genres, taking in all of their writing styles and techniques. As he got older, he knew he wanted to be just like the authors that wrote some of his favorite books. He wanted to have his name on the shelves of hundreds, potentially thousands, of people around the world. He wanted to be the inspiration for another young writer, just like the authors before him. He wanted to be the reason people got back into reading and writing. 

However, being a hunter meant that (Y/N)’s schedule was random. He never had a set time where he could sit down and write what he wanted to. The book that he was working on was a couple of years in the making, after all. With all the cases and personal issues that seemed to pop up constantly around himself and the Winchesters, he knew that he would have to improvise at times when it came to his writing. While nothing was set in stone, he had made some adjustments to his everyday life so that he was able to get some writing done every day. 

On long car rides, when they were driving to or from a case, he would bring out his phone and jot down any ideas that he had. Occasionally, he would get up early in the morning to guarantee that he added something to his word count. Some nights, if the day had been busy, he would stay up later than Sam and Dean to get his thoughts onto paper as quickly as he could. 

Sure, it was exhausting at times. He craved the warm feeling of his bed underneath him and the soft sensation of a pillow resting beneath his head, but he knew that if he didn’t write, he would go insane, and he would rather be sane and tired than energetic and crazy. 

After what he assumed was, twenty minutes of non-stop typing, (Y/N) leaned back in his chair, reaching his arms above his head to stretch his back. He clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling the muscles in them tightening from being overworked. Then, he did something that he had promised himself before his writing session that he wouldn’t do. 

He looked at the time. 

The time was 1:40 AM. 

It had been longer than he thought. When he saw the time, he felt a yawn building up inside of him. Suddenly, he comprehended just how tired he was. His eyes began to droop and his entire body felt as if there was a weight of a thousand pounds resting on it. He glanced down at the writing in his journal for a moment before another yawn escaped him. He cursed under his breath. 

(Y/N) turned back to the computer, placing his hands on the keys for a moment to read over the paragraph he had just completed. He read it a couple of times, yet his fingers would not move, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he knew what he should write next. Nothing was coming out. So, all he did was stare at the screen in front of him. He sighed. 

“(Y/N)?” A deep, tired voice came from beside him. 

(Y/N) jumped as he placed his hand over his chest, turning to look at the person who spoke. Sam stood there, clad in a long-sleeve night shirt and sweatpants. His hair was slightly tousled and he seemed as if he had just woken up. (Y/N) let out a shaky breath.

“Jesus, Sam, you scared the Hell out of me,” he said. 

Sam chuckled as he took a couple of steps through the threshold of the library. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What’re you still doing up?” 

“Um…” (Y/N) trailed as he glanced between Sam and the document in front of him. He rubbed his hands together before he shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep,” he replied, which was followed by another long, dramatic yawn. 

Sam raised his brows as a small, amused smirk made its way onto his lips. He gestured behind him towards the room. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go to bed. I can tell you’re exhausted.” 

(Y/N) inhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face, giving a small nod. “Alright, yeah, yeah, you’re right,” he mumbled as he reached forward, saving the document before closing the laptop. 

(Y/N) stood and grabbed his laptop, journal, and pens. He stuffed the pens into his pocket, tucked his journal underneath his arm, and held his laptop close to his chest. He pushed his chair up to the table before he tiredly shuffled over to Sam. Sam couldn’t help but smile warmly as he watched him. When (Y/N) moved next to him, Sam placed his hand on the small of his back and pressed a kiss to his temple. 

“What were you working on anyway? Research?” Sam asked as the two of them began to make their way down the hallway toward their bedroom. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him before shrugging his shoulders. “Something like that.” 

(Y/N) had never told anyone about his dream. It was always something that he had kept a secret. He knew about the history that Sam and Dean had with the prophet Chuck, he had even read a couple of the books that Chuck had written, and the last thing (Y/N) wanted was for them to think that he was just like him. Nothing that he wrote had anything to do with the hunting life. He needed an escape from the life at times, and creating his own realities was a way for him to get out of it. 

A part of him knew that, if he were to tell Sam and Dean, they would be supportive of his efforts. Even so, with the lack of schedule that he had created for himself, and with him being on only the first draft of his novel, he didn’t want any expectations put on him for them to read what he had written. Perhaps he was overthinking it. He had considered it a couple of times, but he always told himself that it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Sam gave him a smile before they entered the bedroom. (Y/N) walked over to the small desk that was located in the corner of the room and sat his laptop next to Sam’s, placing his journal and pens on top of the computer. He plugged in his laptop, ensuring that the charging light was on before he walked over to the bed. Just looking at the bed, (Y/N) craved the feeling of the soft comforter around him. His body felt heavier than ever. 

As Sam crawled into the bed, (Y/N) stripped himself of his shirt, tossing it onto the ground, vowing that he would pick it up in the morning once he was well-rested. He then crawled into bed next to his boyfriend. It didn’t take them long to press their bodies against one another, their arms wrapping around each other’s middles and their legs tangling together. (Y/N) felt a sense of relief hit him at the embrace. With a smile on his face, Sam pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead. 

“Goodnight,” he said in a soft tone. 

“Goodnight,” (Y/N) whispered back to him. 

It didn’t take long before exhaustion overtook him. His eyelids fell shut as he allowed his body to relax. His breathing steadied and he felt himself slowly drift off into a peaceful slumber. 

The next morning, (Y/N) stirred when he felt the bed shift underneath him. He inhaled sharply as a warm hand reached up and caressed his bare arm gingerly. He furrowed his brows and slowly opened his eyes. The room was still dark thanks to the lack of windows in the bunker, the only light being from the bedroom door, which stood ajar. Looking up, (Y/N) could see the dark outline of his boyfriend standing over him. 

“Sorry to wake you, sweetheart,” Sam whispered, a chuckle following his words. 

(Y/N) groaned. “What time is it?” He asked, his voice sounding as if he was still half-asleep. 

“About eleven. You can go back to sleep, I know you were up really late. I was just wondering if I could use your computer for research. I forgot to plug mine in last night and the battery is completely dead.” 

(Y/N) raised his brows as he reached over to the nightstand and picked up his cell phone. Turning on the screen, he squinted at the bright light and read the time. 

The time was 11:24 AM.

(Y/N) had slept for almost ten hours. 

“Holy shit,” he grumbled. He put his phone down and stretched. “Why did you let me sleep so late?” 

“You seemed tired,” Sam answered, and (Y/N) could tell that he was smiling by the way he spoke. Sam reached up and gently ran his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair. “Plus, you’re really cute when you’re sleeping.” 

“That’s a little gay, don’t you think?” (Y/N) smirked. 

“Maybe a little,” Sam chuckled before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips softly. “Do you mind if I use your laptop?” 

“Sure, sure, yeah. I don’t mind.” 

“Thank you. Are you going to go back to sleep?” 

(Y/N) shook his head, yawning as he did so. “No. I need to get up. I’ll be out there in a little bit.” 

“Alright, I’ll be in the library when you want to join me.” 

“Sounds good, and just go ahead and leave the door open. The light will keep me awake.” 

Sam gave a slight nod. He stood up from the bed, walked over to the desk, unplugged (Y/N)’s laptop, and made his way to the door. He propped the door open a little bit more before he moved down the hallway. Once he was out of his line of sight, (Y/N) stretched his arms above his head, letting out a small groan as his muscles began to wake up. 

Ten minutes later, (Y/N) was awake enough to get up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretched his arms once more, then stood up. He walked over to the shirt that he had discarded on the floor the night before and put it back on. When he was fully clothed, he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

The faint smell of coffee still wafted through the air as he made his way into the kitchen. He could see there was still a tiny amount of coffee left from the pot that had been made that morning and he thanked the Lord that he had been so lucky. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and placed his hand on the side of the pot, feeling the warm heat radiating off of the glass. He decided that it was still hot enough to where he didn’t have to warm it up. He poured the remainder of the coffee into his cup before he walked over to the fridge. He put his favorite creamer and some sugar into the cup, stirring it lightly with a spoon until the color and consistency was one he desired. 

When he was finished making his cup, he turned his back toward the kitchen counter and leaned against it. He took a sip, a small shiver running down his spine when the warm beverage coated his taste buds. (Y/N) basked in the comforting warmth for a moment before he took another sip. He stood in the kitchen for a couple of minutes, enjoying the peaceful silence. 

(Y/N) pushed himself off of the counter and finally began to make his way toward the library. When he rounded the corner, he saw Sam sitting at the table, in the same spot that he had sat the night before. His eyes were glued to the computer screen in front of him, brows slightly furrowed in a concentrated expression. His left hand rested against his face while his right made small movements against the mousepad. A smile found its way onto (Y/N)’s face as he walked closer to Sam, moving to stand behind his chair. He placed one hand on his back as he leaned down and pressed a small kiss against Sam’s temple. 

“So, what’re you-” (Y/N) started to ask before he stopped abruptly. 

What he had assumed would be research on the screen at first was nowhere close to what was staring back at him. The smile slowly fell from his lips as he skimmed over the familiar words. 

It was his novel. 

He had forgotten to close it the night before. 

Sam looked up at (Y/N) and cleared his throat. “Uh, um…you, uh…did you write this?” He asked, his voice and expression matching that of a child who was caught with their hand in the cookie jar before dinner. 

(Y/N) licked his lips nervously as he shuffled a bit behind Sam. “Uh…yeah…” he said, his voice filled with uncertainty. 

“I didn’t know you wrote. I mean, I knew you liked to read and that’s one of the things that I love about you, but I never knew you wrote your own stuff.” 

“Well, I just…dabble here and there. It’s nothing really-” 

“I like it.” Sam interrupted. 

(Y/N) looked down at Sam, their eyes connecting. “Really?” He asked, surprised. 

Sam nodded. “Yeah! I mean, I’m only on the second chapter, but the first chapter pulled me in,” Sam gave a small smirk as he chuckled. 

Slowly, a smile made its way onto (Y/N)’s lips. He walked over, pulled the chair out that rested beside Sam, and sat down. He took another sip of his coffee. 

“You haven’t gotten to anything important, yet. Trust me. It’s still in the works. This is only the first draft.” 

“How long have you been working on this?” 

“Two years? Maybe three, give or take. I’m not able to write all the time and sometimes I can be slow, especially if I decide to write after we finish a hunt.” 

“You’ve got a lot written here,” 

“Almost ninety-thousand words,” (Y/N) gave a brief nod. “It’s still not what I want it to sit at, but it’s coming along.” 

“How many more chapters do you think you’ll need to finish it?” 

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “I’m writing the finale at the moment, but I guess it depends on if I want to add anything. Of course, I’m going to be taking some parts out and putting some other parts in that I had written down and thought of as I was writing, so I don’t know what the final word count will be, but I’m impressed with myself so far.” 

“You should be!” Sam smiled as he reached over and placed a hand comfortingly on (Y/N)’s leg, rubbing his knee gently. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked to write?” 

(Y/N) stared at the table for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I think the stories you told about your interaction with Chuck made me not say anything at first.” 

“I hope you know that I wouldn’t have given you a hard time about this.” 

“I know, I know,” (Y/N) nodded slowly. “Plus, I think that if I would have said something, I would have felt pressured to finish quicker than what I wanted because, knowing you, you would have asked to see what I had written.” 

Sam smirked and chuckled. “I would.” 

“And I would have to burst your bubble and say ‘No’ because I wanted to finish everything and go over everything before I let you look.” 

Sam nodded. “I understand…” he trailed as he glanced back at the page that he was on. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 

(Y/N) hummed as he took another sip of his coffee. “Probably. I do need help proofreading. Plus, I need an audience’s reaction. I already messaged Charlie and she said that she would give it a read when I was done.” 

“So Charlie knew about it before me?” Sam asked exaggeratedly, placing a hand delicately on his chest to feign hurt. 

(Y/N) snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yes, and she doesn’t bug me about it like I knew you would. She likes reading from time to time, but, and I’m sorry to say this Sam, but you are a book whore.” He chuckled. 

“You know what? I take that as a compliment.” Sam said, tilting his head up in a proud manner. 

“As you should.” (Y/N) leaned back in his seat, getting comfortable. 

Sam licked his bottom lip as he glanced between (Y/N) and the computer screen. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, “Can I finish this chapter?” 

(Y/N) pursed his lips in contemplation, furrowing his brows together. He reached over, saved the document, and then exited out of it. “No.” 

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Come on,” he groaned. 

“Sorry, Sammy, but maybe you should read faster next time.” 

Sam sighed heavily and shook his head before he turned his body back towards the table. He paused for a minute. “Do you feel like writing right now?” 

(Y/N) smirked and shook his head. “I need to relax for a little bit. I stayed up late last night writing.” 

Sam nodded. “Do you promise you’ll let me read it once it’s done?” 

“Sam, as soon as I am finished with the first draft and go over everything, I will print out all of the pages for you so that you can read it. That way I can make my revisions while you read over it. Deal?” 

Sam smiled. “Deal.” He said as he leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You’re going to be one hell of an author, babe,” 

(Y/N) smiled. “Thank you, Sammy.” He said. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Sam never realized how much those words meant to (Y/N). Sure, there was a part of him that thought those words to be true, but the other part of him was doubting himself every step of the way. Still, he persisted, working as hard as he could toward the dream that he wanted to become a reality. In that moment, (Y/N) knew that, if Sam Winchester believed that he was going to be a good author, then he was destined to be. 

(Y/N) sat his coffee mug down on the table and gestured towards the computer. 

“On second thought, let me have my computer,” he said, the smile still present on his lips. “I think I found my new inspiration.” 

[campbyler]

I never really understood how y’all can write so many words for just one chapter until I wrote one out of four sections for a chapter and it’s almost 4000 words.

Tbh I still don’t understand how you can do 25k tho it’s insane. /pos

this is the realest thing i have ever heard ‼️‼️‼️ honestly we don’t really know how we do it either, but it’s definitely not intentional 90% of the time! we just have a lot we want to accomplish in every chapter so it does take a while to hit all those points for sure, and thea and i are both people that will sacrifice a slightly more digestible word count in order to add in that conversation or dialogue exchange or few extra paragraphs of narration if we think it serves the story. likeeeeee i swore up and down that 10.1 was going to be under 30k or else thea had free reign to kill me and take out whatever she wanted from it and then it hit like 32k and neither of us could find a section that was long enough to be worth taking out without being a detriment to the quality/pacing/story LOL (other than like 100 words here and there but unless we had like 15 of those sections it wouldn’t make a dent in the wc worth it enough to take all those details out.) we are also balancing a six person main cast so sometimes adding in that extra conversation between two characters who haven’t gotten much time together is also super worth it for us, even if it adds another couple thousand words. basically we just have a lot to say!! unfortunately it does usually take us 1.5-3 business months to say it but we are so glad you guys have been eating it up 🫡

[theenchantresx]

Fire of Vengeance

Summary, Prelude and Chapter 1 here

Characters : Aemond Targaryen & Visenya Velaryon

Word Count: 1,700 (more or less, I added a couple of little paragraphs)

Warnings: Dark Themes, Non-Consensual Undertones, Manipulation, Immorality, War and Political Intrigue, voyeurism, prelude and plans of SA, Not proofread

The images above and the previous ones were taken from Pinterest: credits to the original owners

Chapter 2: The Gathering Storm

The afternoon sun was barely a memory as dark clouds rolled in, bringing with them a tempest that would not be denied. The winds howled, tearing through the sky with a ferocity that even dragons feared. Visenya Velaryon, on her mission to rally Lord Borros Baratheon to her mother’s cause, found herself at the mercy of the storm. The original plan had been to reach Storm’s End by evening, but the brutal weather had other designs.

Vardyx landed with a reluctant thud in the courtyard of an ancient, abandoned castle she had spotted through the sheets of rain. The stone structure was worn by time and the elements, its once grand walls now a shadow of their former glory, but it was the only shelter in sight.

Visenya hurried inside, her cloak heavy with rain and her boots squelching on the cold stone floor. The interior was as bleak as the storm outside, with a damp chill that clung to everything. She quickly found what seemed to be the main hall, its hearth long cold and the air thick with the smell of decay. With practiced hands, she managed to ignite a small fire in the hearth, its flames weak but a small comfort against the encroaching cold.

As the flames began to flicker to life, she heard the distant roar of another dragon, its cry almost lost in the howl of the storm. Her heart sank. There was only one dragon that would be out in this storm, heading the same way she was. Vhagar.

Moments later, Aemond Targaryen strode into the castle, his tall, dark figure cutting through the gloom with an air of authority that was impossible to ignore. His single eye, gleaming with a cold light, locked onto her as he approached.

“Visenya,” he greeted her with a smooth, almost mocking tone. “It seems you and I are both at the mercy of this storm.”

“So it appears, Uncle” she replied evenly, refusing to rise to his bait. “I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone else on this route.”

Aemond smirked, clearly enjoying the situation more than she did. “Fate has a way of bringing people together in the most unexpected of places, don't you think, Niece?”

“It seems the storm has forced our paths to cross,” she responded, attempting to keep her tone neutral.

He smirked, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “Or perhaps the storm simply reveals what was inevitable.”

Visenya turned away, focusing on tending the fire. “This castle will have to suffice for the night. The storm is too fierce to continue my journey.”

“Yes,” Aemond agreed, though there was something in his voice that made her skin prickle. “A pity. I’m sure you were eager to plead your mother’s cause before Lord Borros.”

He knew, she thought. She could feel his eyes on her, probing, searching for a weakness.

“I am here on behalf of my family,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “As you are here for yours, I presume.”

Aemond chuckled, a dark sound that echoed through the empty hall. “Does your mother send you out to rally support for her cause all alone and in the cold? Should this be her job, or is your fake queen afraid to get her hands dirty?”

Visenya turned sharply to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. “She is our queen—”

“Yes, exactly,” Aemond interrupted, his voice a low, taunting whisper, “only yours.”

There was a moment of tense silence, the crackling fire the only sound between them. Visenya’s jaw tightened as she fought to keep her composure.

“She’s too important for us,” she finally said, her voice firm despite the tremor of emotion underlying it. “It’s not right to send her to do these tasks.”

Aemond took another step closer, his eye narrowing as he studied her. “Important enough to send her children into the storm, while she remains safe behind the walls of Dragonstone? How noble.”

Visenya bristled at his words, but she knew better than to rise to his bait. She held his gaze, refusing to back down.

"Our mother carries the weight of our house,” she said. “We all do our part.”

“And what part will you play in this war, Visenya?” Aemond’s voice was softer now, almost gentle, but the threat beneath his words was unmistakable. “Will you be the dutiful daughter, rallying banners for a lost cause? Or something more?”

His question hung in the air, heavy with implications that sent a chill down her spine. She knew he was testing her, searching for any sign of weakness he could exploit. But she would not give him the satisfaction.

“The cause is not lost,” she replied, her voice steady, though her heart pounded in her chest. “Not while there are still those loyal to the true queen.”

Aemond’s smile was thin, almost cruel. “Loyalty is a fragile thing, Visenya. It can be bought, broken, or twisted to serve one’s own ends.”

The firelight flickered across his face, casting sharp shadows that made him look more sinister than ever. Visenya could feel the tension in the room, thick as the storm raging outside, and she knew that whatever game Aemond was playing, it was only just beginning.

She tried to ignore the tension that crackled in the air between them. But Aemond was not one to be easily dismissed.

He settled himself near the fire, closer than she would have liked, and for a moment, they sat in silence, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the distant roar of the storm. But Visenya knew that this silence was only temporary.

“Lord Borros is a man of ambition,” Aemond said suddenly, breaking the quiet. His tone was casual, but his words were carefully chosen. “He values strength, not empty promises. What exactly do you intend to offer him on your mother’s behalf?”

Visenya kept her gaze on the flames, unwilling to reveal too much. “Lord Borros knows what’s at stake. He’s no fool.”

“Indeed he’s not,” Aemond agreed, his voice smooth. “But neither is he a man easily swayed by sentiment. What can Rhaenyra offer him that will ensure his loyalty?”

“We both know that the Iron Throne offers more than just gold or land,” Visenya replied carefully. “Loyalty to the rightful queen secures not just Borros’ future, but his legacy.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed slightly, a subtle sign that her words had not gone unnoticed. “Legacy is a powerful motivator, I’ll grant you that. But Borros has daughters of his own to think of. Marriages, alliances... these are the currency of war. What bride price is your mother willing to pay?”

“We’re not pawns,” Visenya said, meeting his gaze. “We’re players, with our own roles to fulfill.”

Aemond’s smile widened, though there was little warmth in it. “Ah yes, duty. The heavy burden we all must bear. But tell me, Visenya, how much of this duty is truly yours, and how much is simply your mother’s will?”

She hesitated, unsure of how to answer. The truth was, she had always done what was expected of her, never questioning the orders she was given. But now, faced with Aemond’s probing gaze, she found herself doubting for the first time. Was she here because she believed in her mother’s cause, or because she had no other choice?

“You speak as if you have a choice,” Aemond continued, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “But we both know that in war, choice is a luxury. We are all pawns indeed... in a game that was set in motion long before we were born.”

“We’re not pawns,” Visenya repeated, though her voice lacked conviction.

Aemond regarded her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Hmm... Very well, niece. We shall see how far your sense of duty takes you.”

The hours dragged on as the storm outside refused to relent. The castle’s cold, damp walls seemed to close in around them, the air thick with the unspoken tension between them. Aemond remained near the fire, his presence a constant reminder of the danger that lurked beneath his calm exterior.

As night fell, the fire began to dwindle, the warmth it provided no longer enough to ward off the chill. Visenya’s clothes were still damp, her skin prickling with the cold. She knew she couldn’t go on like this, not if she wanted to get any rest.

“I need to get rid of this dampness,” she murmured, more to herself than to Aemond.

Without waiting for a response, she made her way to a small adjoining chamber she had found earlier. It was as bleak as the rest of the castle, but it offered some privacy. Inside, she found a rusty basin filled with water that had leaked in from the storm. The water was icy cold, but she had no choice.

She began to undress, her fingers numb as she struggled with the laces of her dress. The fabric, soaked through with rain, clung to her skin, making the task even more difficult. At last, she managed to peel it off, the wet cloth falling to the floor with a heavy thud. She removed her clothes, cloak and undergarments, leaving her shivering in the cold air.

The moonlight filtered through a narrow window, casting a pale, ethereal glow over her body. In this light, her dark hair seemed almost silver, a reflection of the Targaryen blood that flowed through her veins.

She stepped into the basin, gasping as the freezing water bit into her skin. Her breath hitched, her nipples hardening from the cold. But she forced herself to continue, washing away the grime and the lingering discomfort of Aemond’s earlier gaze.

Little did she know, that very gaze was still upon her. Aemond had not left her side for long. His curiosity, his need to dominate, had drawn him back to her. He watched her through a narrow crack in the dilapidated door, his eye tracing the curves of her body as she bathed.

Duty and honor should have made him turn away, but something far darker held him there. The sight of her, vulnerable and unaware, stirred something deep within him. What had started as a desire for revenge was now tainted with a yearning that both thrilled and unnerved him.

Visenya finished quickly, the cold too much to bear for long. She reached for her clothes, only to remember they were still soaked through and lying in a heap on the floor. With no other choice, she grabbed her damp cloak, wrapping it around herself as best as she could.

As she stepped out of the chamber, Aemond retreated into the shadows, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and something else—something he wasn’t ready to name. The storm outside continued its assault on the castle, but the storm within him had only just begun.

[cutecurly-hair]

Hearts Unleashed (Part 1)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 2234

Please interact and comment to keep it going. I always love to know what you think.

"What does this mean?" I stared at the piece of paper clutched tightly in my hand. My mom's eyes held an unmistakable unease as she replied, her voice tinged with worry, "This is our plane ticket to England."

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I glanced at the tickets. "We're going to England for a vacation! I had a feeling this year would be different. Do you think we can visit Paris while we're there? I heard it's just a quick train ride away."

My mom chuckled nervously, her laughter quivering. "That's the thing, honey, this isn't just a vacation; it's permanent."

My brows furrowed as I examined the ticket more closely, finally noticing the bold "ONE WAY" printed in the upper right corner. "What do you mean, one way?" Confusion washed over me, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"It means we'll be officially moving to England. I applied for a new job there, and I got it," my mom explained as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She saw the panic in my eyes and hurriedly added, "I understand it's sudden, but I think this will be a great change for us. I've even found a fantastic school with an amazing film program that I know you'll love."

My mind raced. "I don't even know what to say. Why are you telling me this now?" My whole life was here in America, and the idea of packing up and moving to another country was almost too much to bear.

"Honey, I know it's sudden, but they called me today, and they need me to start immediately. That's why we have to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! I don't even have time to pack, let alone say goodbye to my friends. We can't just uproot ourselves from LA and head to England." I looked around our apartment, a cozy haven that had been my home for the past seven years. It felt like things were finally getting back to normal.

I glanced at the ticket again and saw the fine print: Departing from LAX tomorrow at 10:45 am. "I should really start wearing my glasses," I muttered under my breath.

My mom tried to reassure me, "Everything will work out fine. I've hired movers to come during the week and help ship the rest of our stuff. Tonight, all we need to do is pack our personal things and head to the airport first thing in the morning."

I felt like I wanted to argue, but then I saw how tired my mom looked. Her face seemed really worn out, and she had a tired look in her eyes. It made me realize that maybe I hadn't been paying enough attention to how she was feeling lately.

I decided not to bring up my concerns because I didn't want to make things worse. I didn't want to fight with my mom when she already seemed so tired and stressed. So, I chose to keep quiet and let it go for now, even though I still had my worries.

As we stepped off the plane in London, the dark grey skies clouded my vision, and the unfamiliar air filled my lungs. Instantly, I began to miss home. With half of my life packed away in two large suitcases and three duffel bags, this was definitely going to take some getting used to.

"Have your other bags arrived yet?" my mom asked, her eyes darting to the time on her wrist.

"Sorry for making you wait," I replied with a sigh. "When you're packing your whole life into a bag, it tends to take a while." I was far from being in a good mood after only managing to grab a couple of hours of sleep, spending one of them writing an overly dramatic paragraph to my friends about where I'd be for the next few years.

"There's no need to get sassy with me, Y/n," my mom chided. "I'm just worried about the time. I don't want to be late for the shuttle. If we miss this one, the next won't be for another three hours. And I'm sure you don't want to spend that much time at the airport."

Before I could respond, I spotted my color-coded bags moving slowly along the conveyor belt. I collected them and loaded them onto a trolley, then couldn't help but add a mockingly sweet tone, "Now, we can go."

My mom led the way to the shuttle, looking a bit lost in the bustling airport. She approached a stranger for directions, and I listened intently, realizing I needed to get used to the distinct accent. My mom thanked the stranger urgently, and we hurriedly made our way to catch the shuttle, leaving behind the life I'd known in America.

Arriving at our new home in England I couldn't help that there was a mix of excitement and trepidation. I had seen pictures of the place, but it was entirely different to stand in front of it, knowing that it was going to be our home for the foreseeable future. My mom, ever the optimist, had put in tremendous effort to ensure it was the best flat on the block.

As we approached the building, I noticed the quaint charm of the neighborhood. Rows of terraced houses with colorful front doors lined the cobblestone streets. It was a far cry from the sunny, palm tree-lined avenues of Los Angeles that I had called home.

My mom had informed me earlier that her new job had provided relocation money, and she had spent hours researching and visiting potential flats to find one that met all our needs. She was determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for me, especially since I wasn't exactly thrilled about changing schools.

The flat itself was a cozy two-bedroom apartment on the top floor of a charming Victorian building. It had large windows that let in plenty of natural light, and I could see the spires of an old church in the distance. The living room had plush sofas, and I could just imagine the walls being adorned with artwork from home. She had even managed to find a flat with a small balcony where we could enjoy tea on sunny afternoons.

As we stepped inside, I couldn't help but be impressed by how homely it felt, despite being in a foreign country. My room, though smaller than what I was used to, had a window overlooking the quiet street below. I packed some of my posters and photographs from our life in LA, making it feel like a small piece of home.

As I unpacked my belongings, I couldn't help but reflect on the whirlwind of changes that had brought us here. My parents' divorce had been a long and sometimes painful process, but with me finishing up middle school, it seemed like the right time for a fresh start.

In my mom's perspective, this move was a chance for something new and exciting, a way to turn the page on a difficult chapter in our lives. But for me, I felt like I was just along for the ride, caught up in the decisions made by the adults in my life. It wasn't easy to accept that we were starting over in a completely different country.

While I tried to look on the bright side, I couldn't shake the feeling that my mom should have told me about it much sooner. The truth was that I was still deeply hurt and confused.

But as I glanced out the window of our new flat and saw the quaint streets of our new neighborhood, I knew that, in time, I would find my place in this new chapter of our lives. Change might not come overnight, but I was determined to make the most of it and find the silver lining in our fresh start.

—-----

A whole week had passed, and I swear my boredom had reached Olympic levels. Our furniture from LA finally showed up a few days ago, and let me tell you, I became the world champion of room redecorating in record time. But apart from that impressive feat, my life had all the excitement of a cardboard box. School isn't kicking off until Monday, which gives me a gentle nudge that I should probably check out the film program my mom's been raving about. 

Feeling all organized and responsible, I sat down and sketched out the route from our place to the school. It's like a 20-minute walk, which I can totally handle once I get the hang of it. But if I'm feeling a bit lazy (which happens, like, all the time), there's a nifty 10-minute bus ride option. Plus, my mom's still knee-deep in paperwork to send our car overseas, so it's official I'm becoming a bus pro.

Then I checked out the school's website, and the film program doesn't look half bad. They've got this YouTube channel packed with short films that are more interesting than binge-watching cat videos. And here's the real kicker they've got a partnership with Netflix! I mean, seriously, how did they manage to pull that off? They're talking about workshops and internships, and I'm just here thinking,

"Who's the magician that got Netflix on board?" That seriously is impressive.

Looking out of the window, I couldn't believe my luck the sun was actually shining for once! After days of nothing but gray skies, it felt like a small miracle. I was starting to understand that sunny days were a rare commodity in this place. So, I thought, why not make the most of it while I could?

I swapped out my usual outfit for a pair of comfy shorts and a cool graphic tee. In a flash, I was out the door, ready to savor every bit of that precious sunshine.

As I continued my stroll through the neighborhood, I stumbled upon a charming park nestled amidst the houses. The sunlit meadow was dotted with people, and what caught my eye was the number of folks out and about with their dogs. It was becoming evident that this was definitely a big dog-loving community, and the park was their social hub.

I watched as playful pups frolicked, tails wagging with unbridled enthusiasm, and their owners chatted amicably, forming a tight-knit community within the community. It felt heartwarming to witness such camaraderie, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight.

I stumbled upon the perfect photo opportunity, one that would fit perfectly in my collection. I'd forgotten my camera at home, but my trusty phone would have to do. As I aimed to capture the moment, an unexpected collision sent my phone tumbling to the ground.

Before I could get a word out, the other person beat me to the punch. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going," he said, hastily bending down to retrieve both of our phones. It turned out he had dropped his phone as well.

I felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up. "No, no, it's alright. It was my fault for standing right in the middle of the walkway," I replied, cheeks tinged with a hint of red.

He handed back my phone with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Hopefully, it didn't crack," he said, his own cheeks taking on a shade of pink.

I shook my head, trying to conceal my own embarrassment. "No big deal. You might have done me a favor, actually. It's about time I got a new phone, and this could be the perfect excuse," I quipped, waving my phone playfully. The boy chuckled warmly.

"Thanks for not making me feel awful about it," he admitted, appearing relieved. "I'm Charlie, by the way." He extended his hand, and I shook it with a friendly smile.

I responded, "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Charlie." The friendly atmosphere that had enveloped us earlier seemed to dissipate, leaving an awkward silence in its wake.

Charlie finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with shyness. "Sorry, but I can't help but notice the accent..."

I smiled, realizing his curiosity. "Oh yeah, I'm from America. We just moved here last week, right down the block," I stated, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement. "Right down the block! I live right down that way." I couldn't help but feel my own excitement grow.

"I live where the new flats were built, I think they're called the Avalone Suites or something," I mentioned. Charlie's face instantly lit up with recognition.

"I live right across from you! Everyone around the block has been raving about the new building," he exclaimed,

As Charlie and I walked back to my apartment, he chatted animatedly about the neighborhood, sharing tidbits about the local shops, nearby parks, and the best places to grab a bite. It was clear he was friendly and genuinely excited to have a new neighbor.

During our conversation, we made another delightful discovery – we were both going to the same school. It was a pleasant surprise that eased my earlier concerns about not knowing anyone in this new place.

By the time we reached my apartment building, Charlie had almost talked my ear off, but I didn't mind one bit. With a warm smile, I turned to him and said, "Thanks for walking me back, Charlie. I guess I won't be starting school completely alone."

Charlie grinned in response; his eyes filled with genuine friendliness. "Anytime, Y/N. I'm looking forward to seeing you at school."

We added each other on each other's socials before we parted ways.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/727972531449020416/hearts-unleashed-part-2?source=share

[charlotteharlatan]

A list (non-exhaustive) of why the 1941 flashback scenes are haunting both me and The Narrative, Part 2:

(link to Part 1)

6. There are additional scenes that point to 1941. The Ritz scene from S1ep6 where they toast “to the world” also echoes the S2ep4 1941 scene, because these are the only two instances where we see Crowley and Aziraphale “cheers” to something with their drinks and then take a sip at the same time - they are also the only two instances where they both consume the same substance at the same time.

(To contrast, look at the Rome flashback from S1ep3, in which they also “cheers” but only Crowley takes a sip of his drink afterwards. In fact, if you watch the entire Rome flashback, there’s never a time when their sips synch up.

I could go off on a whole other tangent about the peculiar significance of “ingesting substances” within Good Omens and how it serves as a direct metaphor for acquiring knowledge/losing innocence, vis a vis Eve and the apple, and Aziraphale with the ox rib, but that would be adding at least a few more paragraphs.)

There’s another element that famously features in the S1ep6 Ritz scene, a piano cover of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square.” If we operate on the assumption that we’re meant to link these two events as well, then an inference that the song also played a role that night in 1941 now seems less like a leap, and more like a logical step.

7. We also can’t leave out the context clues within the S2 1941 scene itself. I’ve already mentioned the gramophone and the wine, but there’s another element in the scene’s background that seems to be hinting at something:

The lamps. Despite the candles on the table, there are lit lamps in the background. Again, the background is out of focus, but the lamps seem to be human figures, and they appear as though they might be dancing couples. Why have these lights turned on if you have candles lit? Our attention is meant to be drawn to these light fixtures in this moment; it’s possibly more foreshadowing.

(Of course, you could also turn it the opposite way and say the audience is meant to ask: why light candles when the lamps work just fine, for which there is very little explanation other than Aziraphale was actively trying to create romantic ambiance. Which would only add to the suspicion that something more may have happened between them in 1941 that the first two seasons left out.)

8. Chronologically speaking, the next time we see Crowley and Aziraphale together after 1941 is in 1967, when Aziraphale pops in on Crowley in the Bentley. One of the most striking things about the 1967 scene is that the emotional tone has shifted rather dramatically from what it was like at the end of the S2 1941 scene.

There’s awkward tension between them; every line of dialogue carries heavy hidden meaning. The repressed longing is palpable. Crowley is subdued and cautious, and Aziraphale is avoiding Crowley’s eyes and speaking in a stilted voice.

It could just be the subject matter that’s making things awkward - the holy water had been a matter of major contention between them - but there seems to be much more to this tension. We pay a lot of attention to “you go too fast for me, Crowley,” and we should (especially given that when Aziraphale is actually able to look directly at Crowley in this scene, he keeps glancing at his mouth), but there are other bits of dialogue that are important there too.

Crowley offers to drive Aziraphale “anywhere he wants to go” and Aziraphale turns him down. But from information we received in S2, we now know that the bookshop was literally across the street. We are being implicitly told that Crowley is offering a whole lot more than just a drive home, but we are also being primed to recall the last time Crowley actually did give Aziraphale a ride home, the last time they were in the bookshop together. Every context clue is contributing to the sense that we are missing something. The 1941 scene still feels incomplete, like there’s one last installment of it, which sets the stage to revisit it in S3.

9. Returning to the 1967 scene, after Aziraphale hands over the thermos of holy water, Crowley asks whether he should say thank you. Aziraphale responds with a grimace disguised as a polite smile and a rather curt “better not.”

This contrasts to 1941, when Aziraphale attempts multiple times to express gratitude to Crowley for saving him and his books, and for coming through for him at the magic show, including that rather suggestive moment in the Bentley where he insists “there must be something I can do for you…in return.” Why is the idea of expressing gratitude so loaded and weighty, when only twenty years ago (not that long, for them) Aziraphale insisted upon it? Gratitude has always been complicated for the two of them, but now that complexity feels compounded.

It gives extra interest to the moment Aziraphale thanks Crowley for removing the paint stain from his coat in S1ep2. And of course, we know what happens just a bit later in that same episode.

The Wall Slam, which echoes The Kiss, in that Crowley is the one to close the distance between them in both cases, taking Aziraphale by the collar.

It’s interesting to note that there have also been other times when Crowley gets into Aziraphale’s personal space. In the first two minisodes in S2, there are two separate instances of Crowley getting into Aziraphale’s face after the angel accuses him of goodness.

It happens in Job’s courtyard in S2ep2…

…and in the graveyard in S2ep3 after they (well, Crowley mostly) save Elspeth.

This is another of their patterns - Aziraphale acknowledging the good in Crowley, casting doubt on his evilness in a way that gets a rise out of the demon. At first it was unintentional, but Aziraphale tries to bait Crowley in this way multiple times throughout the series, possibly as a way to get physical closeness with him that he doesn’t get otherwise. The time in Job’s courtyard wasn’t intentional, but the time in the graveyard definitely was. Just look at Aziraphale’s pleased, indulgent expression when Crowley is telling him off.

Sometimes this tactic is successful, sometimes it’s not. One could argue that the Wall Slam was an instance in which he was very successful, even more so than he bargained for.

And: he attempts the same thing multiple times in 1941. He does it immediately after the church gets bombed, in the Bentley afterwards, and during their candlelit date. Crowley doesn’t really rise to the bait though. He gets a bit snappish, he dismisses and denies, but he doesn’t get into Aziraphale’s face - and my read of this scene is that you can see Aziraphale’s frustration that it isn’t working.

Aziraphale can be very stubborn when he’s decided to do something, and if he keeps pushing this particular button of Crowley’s to get the response he’s seeking, well. It wouldn’t be the first time. I could definitely see him trying this tactic one more time if we do get a continuation of 1941 in S3, and it potentially working.

There may be a part three to this, as I have a few more related items to discuss. (Shocker, I know.)