#elevator monologue

[baeddling]

Cool new header :3

Thanks omg I shamelessly stole it from u 🙏

[free-my-boy-grumbot]

Ranking the ASOUE parts because I’m bored and my friend isn’t online

i would love to keep it extensive but i also don’t want tumblr to crash so i will keep it brief. spoilers, obviously. also charcater death.

13. The Grim Grotto

Listen just because it’s 13th doesn’t mean it’s BAD, it just means i’m kinda indifferent to it as opposed to obsessing over it like i do with the others. It’s just that I’m not THAT into nautical themes and I have 2 nautical-themed assignments to do in school today so I’m a little sick of it.

Also, I’m just not that big on Fiona as a character. I didn’t really like the two-girls-hate-each-other-for-no-reason thing that she had going with Violet (especially because it was really out of charcater for her), her romance with Klaus seemed out of place, and her being related to Fernald just seemed like it was pulled out of nowhere to get an emotional reaction. Again, I get why you’d like her and the part, it’s just not for me personally. Also esme’s worst outfit was featured here. Also in the netflix series it just wasn’t as funny as the other ones and that’s a huge thing for me

12. The Wide Window

Honestly didn’t expect this one to be so low, but it’s difficult to choose between these bc i love them all </3 anyways I actually liked Josephine as a charcater, I like the idea that she wants to help the children but is rendered basically incompetent because of her fear, they really popped off with that. HOWEVER they did a very similar thing with Hector but way better so alas </3 12th place

Also like I said, not a massive fan of sea-themed aesthetics. Also also I LOVE all of count olaf’s disguises but I’m kind of indifferent to captain Sham so that also might be why. Also, again, the rest of the netflix series was way funnier

11. The Carnivorous Carnival

Honestly, not much to say about this one. The “not really feeling strongly one way or the other” section has come early this year apparently. Esme and Olivia both SLAYED in their outfits and we got introduced to the circus crew which was cool as fuck. Sadly I have knocked SEVERAL points off for horny count olaf. The scene where he describes madame lulu as buttered really makes you appreciate how little force it takes to rip one’s ear off. It provides me with a new and informed understanding of the phrase “skin crawling”. other than that it’s pretty good :)

10. The Slippery Slope

Now I was one of those people who didn’t know what Mount Fraught syndrome was before reading this book, and the reveal of why the mountain was named that fucking eviscerated me. I was used to this series pulling shit like this constantly and yet this one destroyed me for some reason. If you already knew what mount fraught syndrome was before reading/watching this scene then you didn’t get the full experience and i’m sorry for you.

I also don’t LOVE quigley and violet. I know i just said that about klaus and fiona so it kinda seems like i hate romance, but i really dont. i hate forced romance. romance just isn’t daniel handlers strong suit but he insists on writing it anyway, and that’s fine. it’s what i do with basically everything i write about. Especially since in the netflix series duncan also has a crush on violet so it’s kinda ??? for her to end up with quigley. like do you guys think when quigley and duncan reunited quigley told him about this really cool girl called violet he met and duncan was like “…”. anyways imagine getting cucked by your presumed dead twin brother could not be me

9. The Austere Academy

okay so i felt bad putting this lower because i know someone that really likes this part but i’m sorry it’s just kinda there. i mean it was super funny and the dead horse bit is literally everything but that’s pretty much it. idk maybe there’s a metaphor in there that i’m missing who knows

also olivia was introduced so bonus points for that i guess. she reminds me of miss honey from matilda <33

8. The Ersatz Elevator

honestly i feel bad that this is only 8th but there are so many good ones imsorry. anyways esme and jerome got introduced in this one which gives is a LOT of extra points. i love esme and i pity jerome which makes me also love him. also shoutout to günther for being the only count olaf disguise that could theoretically get it.

my only issue with it is that jerome disowning the baudelaires was kinda forced yk?? like i know it had to happen for the plot to carry on but i don’t think he had a good reason to do it. i guess points for doing something other than just killing them off again?

7. The End

OKAY so you might be thinking “oh, this part is exactly in the middle! surely that means you’re neuteral about it” LMAO I WISH i have extreme positive and negative opinions.

okay so first off it took me a couple of rewatches to get this one because when i first watched it i didn’t know about the quote that it was referencing (“religion is the opium of the people”) but MAN they mentioned that quote in class and i was catatonic for like 2 minutes because oh my god. not only did the incredibly deadly viper come back (yippieee) but they also implied that in the bible adam and eve were actually saved from something by eating the fruit?? the 4chan atheist that lives in my head really likes this one, is what i’m saying. also i know i say that about all of them because my sense of humour is basically based on this series rn but it was so funny. i live and breathe for olaf’s lil christopher columbus moment.

sadly it does have its downsides (olaf and kit) (i really hate olaf and kit) (i don’t think they’re good together). i mean SURELY kit has better taste than that. i mean don’t get me wrong they’re both my favourite characters but they have no common ground on literally anything. plus this is biased but i liked him better with georgina or esme because they remind me of several songs i really like. they literally just pulled the kit x olaf thing out of their ass so that olaf would have some semblance of a reason to die. oh yea i also think olaf didn’t need to die, i know Kit didn’t eat the antidote because it would have affected the baby but olaf could have totally eaten it!! he was offered it!! he wasn’t pregnant!!! it was so out of charcater for him not to eat it!!

6. The Hostile Hospital

Okay this one is SUPER biased because as y’all probably know i love the mad scientist trope it is my favourite trope ever AND i love count olaf so seeing them get put together was so cool. I know I keep bringing this up but i really do love the aesthetics they’re so cool. also also loved all the horror film references. most importantly (actually not that important) esmes outfit went so fucking hard literally i will never recover from the sheer power and moxie of Knife Heels. When I become actually talented at textiles i will recreate her outfit and probably ruin my carpet with those heels.

5. The Bad Beginning

a classic <33 the netflix version of this was literally one of the funniest eps of anything i ever watched i could feel my brain chemistry being rearranged as i watched it. also count olaf’s best era idc what he did he was literally just being sillay. also it has one of the best songs in the series honestly. OH ALSO justice strauss <33 and the troupe <333 literally all the beloveds are here there are no flaws

4. The Reptile Room

MONTY <333 HIIII MONTYYYY <33333333 literally my fav character he has never done anything wrong in his life ever. Also I love his fucking house it’s so cool if I had that much money I too would base my entire house on my special interest. also one of the only parts of the nickelodeon movie i didn’t hate so that’s fun.

3. The Miserable Mill

Lots of cool shit here!! First of all Shirley served astronomical amounts of cunt she had zero bad lines. Also I honestly think Georgina and Olaf were so underrated they remind me of several songs i like also they’re both fucked up and evil <333 she’s like esme but without the ulterior sugar bowl motives. also the fact that her name is GEORGINA ORWELL like ok. queen of subtlety. Like I get it if I was named that I would prolly start hypnotising people too. I also kinda love orwellian themes yk those are always fun.

AND OMG HOW COULD I FORGET CHARLESSS i feel so bad for him constantly he has never done anything wrong in his life and is also inexplicably british i love him sm

2. The Penultimate Peril

I love a good reunion episode tbh i love seeing all the characters together <33 also like this episode is so fun to dissect? (is that the right word?) i loved figuring out who JS was i loved finding differences between Frank and Ernest I loved figuring out what the fuck was going on it was so fun it’s like the best thing about this series.

of course that’s only partially true tpp would be nothing without those sexy sexy monologues

1. The Vile Village

TVV BELOVED <33 I have a separate post about the but they literally have everything. it’s a metaphor for autism it’s a metaphor for religion it’s a metaphor for the school system is there anything they CANT do. Also this is like my 5th time saying this but there are 300+ characters and i’m an indecisive bitch so i will do it again. Hector the actual loml is literally my fav charcater hes so me. don’t worry dude i cant openly defy authority despite knowing its unjust either <3 literally we would be best friends irl. she’s RELATABLE she’s MORALLY AMBIGUOUS she has SEVERAL INTERPRETATIONS I AGREE WITH she’s STRANGE she’s everything you want in an asoue book honestly

Also detective dupin and officer luciana kinda slayed what was Wrong with them <3

[voxiiferous]

So Mr. Vox do you have any comments on the recent allegations?

@shadowofthehost | Vox's version of the gossiping women!

Now just to hope that Astor never sees this. Or at least realizes that its all smoke and mirrors. He almost sighs, but stops himself, appearances to keep up. Just like everything else.

"You mean the rumours about me and that shadow? Don't make me laugh. You think I'd fuck up my relationship for a fling?"

Yes.

"He's Alastor's...whatever that dynamic is, I'm staying out of it. Come back when you have something substantiated. Heresy doesn't make for good news babes."

[detentiontrack]

Greys anatomy is so funny. Why is this man taking over one of the only TWO elevators in the hospital to elaborately propose

[voidmagika]

mm maybe I shld post here lol

[draconicace]

everyone else look at the pretty lights for me ok

[tasteleeknow]

RASPBERRY PIE

minors dni. minho x fem!reader. 4k words content warnings. pet names (sweetheart, angel). mutual pining. sweet/shy reader. perv!minho. corruption kink. food play. dirty talk. oral (m rec.). soft!dom minho.

you bake your quiet neighbour a warm raspberry pie.

He's pretty sure he's utterly fucked from the jump – he finds himself attached so early he almost convinces himself you're a witch in disguise; that maybe he'd moved in next door to a creature designed to trap men like him. A siren, maybe. The sweetness was an act; all the soft tones and doe eyed looks were just a trick to lure him down beneath the waves.

He was determined not to drown.

And then you show up with the pie, a little flushed from working around a hot oven. It'd been 6 months – 6 months since he'd moved in, and as he opens the door to find you in an apron with little pink stains, a feeling of approaching and inevitable doom settles in his chest. Finally, you'd come to take him.

"Hi," you greet with a shy smile. "My friend brought me over far too many berries yesterday so..." you look down at the golden pie, carefully decorated and clearly still warm, "...well I made this. For you."

If he was wise, he'd politely decline, close the door, and never be faced with the reality of the sweet little siren in his apartment, offerings of temptation and all.

"For me?"

You look up at him through long lashes. "Do you like pie?" you ask. It's the way you say it, like if he doesn't you might genuinely hurt inside – like with a simple rejection of your offering, he had the ability to snuff out some little candle alight inside you.

"I like pie," he says.

Then you smile. Like it's the best news you've heard in weeks. "Oh, good."

He steps aside, his body betraying him. The siren enters with her warm pie and soft smiles – and he knows, unequivocally, that he's fucked.

He keeps his distance as you comfortably navigate to the kitchen to find a place for your offering. The apartments were all pretty much identical as far as he knew. The two on this floor, his and yours, were mirrored. He imagines that just on the other side of your joining wall, you took the same steps he did he each morning, in parallel.

You fiddle a little with the delicately placed raspberries atop the pie as he approaches from the other side of the island. You wear a tiny silver ring on one finger, much like one he wears on his own. He'd spotted it before, during short interactions in the elevator. He suppresses the urge to comment on it now, to ask if it meant anything to you.

He doesn't need to know you. He couldn't afford to. He was finding himself attached enough without it.

Then you pluck one little berry up in your fingers and bring it to your lips. He watches you. He watches you and he knows that he's walked willingly into a trap.

"Sweet?"

You look up. "Hm? Oh." You nod. "They're lovely. My friend gets them from this farm near his parent's place."

Friend. His. He sits in the feeling that stirs in his chest for a quiet moment. It's a rotten feeling. He doesn't like it at all.

"He brings them often?" he finds himself asking.

"Not at all. He just happened to come by after being there for a weekend. He doesn't go there often, I don't think." Your accompanying smile is almost enough to snuff out the rotten feeling before he has time to digest it. Almost.

Then he considers that this might not be the only pie. You may have made this other guy a pie just like it... maybe it was bigger, maybe you'd used the sweetest berries in his pie.

He kicks a cat toy across the floor as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, a little embarrassed by his own internal monologue. Witchcraft, turning his brain into mush.

"You have a pretty view."

He looks up to find you brushing your hands down your apron and rounding the kitchen island. You seem drawn to his floor to ceiling windows, a little moth to the light.

He follows.

"Mine isn't nearly this nice," you continue once he's standing beside you. "All I get is the construction site and a concrete wall." Then you close your eyes, head tilting back a little to let the sun's afternoon rays bathe your face. "Don't get the sun like this, either," you add, a little dreaminess leaking into your already sweet voice.

Oh, he's fucked.

"You like it?"

You blink up at him, eyes adjusting to the light again. "Hm?"

"I mean if you really like it, you're welcome over anytime, whenever." He wonders if this is part of your spell work, making him say stupid shit. Maybe he'd be better off if you were casting spells on him, if he had a reasonable excuse for being so fucking braindead. "For the sun," he adds, like it makes it better.

A small breath of laughter slips from your pretty lips. "It does get a little gloomy over there, on my side of the wall."

It was hard to imagine anywhere you were being gloomy.

"I should go," you continue after a short moment of comfortable silence, each of you basking in the sunlight. He really should appreciate that more, he notes. Then he considers the fact he'll associate this little patch of warmth with you each time he attempts such a thing.

"Sure," he says, following you from a safe distance to the door. "Thank you. For the pie."

"You're welcome."

Everything is fine. He's alone and he survived the encounter. Then he's faced with the pie. He stares down at it, warm and made with careful hands.

He plucks a berry off the top. He thinks of the berry you'd eaten in the same way.

Everything is fine.

He hesitates as he goes to pluck a second berry. Instead of lifting one from the crust, he presses the tip of his finger a little against the surface. Warm. He breaks through. His finger is coated in syrupy, red filling when he pulls it free. It's sugary sweet when he sucks it clean.

Shame. That's what he feels next. Because sweet gestures of neighbourly kindness should not trigger the kind of thoughts creeping their way into his head.

He wonders if the little siren's cunt is as warm and sweet as the little offering she brought him. He considers doing the right thing, having a cold shower and sitting in the morning sun with a slice of pie.

But apparently, today, and the day before, and every day for the past 6 months, Minho was not wise and he wasn't very good. Because he let the thoughts of his sweet little neighbour stew for months, and this is where it'd led him.

He stands there, one palm pressed flat on the kitchen counter, the other buried in his sweatpants, and he thinks of the sweet little siren with her sweet offerings, and he imagines sinking his hard cock into her warm, sweet cunt.

—

It's hard not to deflate entirely as you close your apartment door behind you. You'd expected too much from a single pie, you suppose. It would entirely out of character for him to ask you to stay for a slice, to take the opportunity to finally have a conversation longer than an elevator ride.

You sigh, dropping your forehead against the cool surface of the door. It helps a little. You're overheated, both from the cooking, the warm sun, and the heat that had bubbled up from the inside as the pretty - yet frustratingly reserved - man next door had watched you move about his space.

You hadn't lied, his apartment was far nicer than yours. You could imagine basking in that patch of sun any chance you had. You wonder if he does the same, if he sits there after a shower, chest bare and hair still a little damp - letting the sun warm his skin.

You leap back as a knock on the door jolts you out of your daydream. Sighing, you press your palm to your forehead - head thoroughly rattled - as you pull the door open.

Oh.

"Hi," Minho says casually. He's a little flushed compared to when you'd left him minutes earlier. He shouldn't be. There were no stairs between your apartments.

"Hello, again."

He glances over your shoulder, getting a clear view of your empty living room. "It is darker in here," he says, still casual.

"Oh. Mm, yeah. I miss your sun already."

His eyes fix back on you. Then he pulls his lip between his teeth slightly. He has something to say... something he won't say.

"Why'd you make me the pie?" he asks.

You blink. "I... had a lot of berries from-"

"Your friend. I know."

You're officially confused. His eyes drop down your dirty apron before returning to your face. "You only made one?"

"Is it bad?" you question.

He pushes some hair away from his eyes. "No," he says quickly. "No, it's... nice." His eyes sweep down your body again. "Sweet," he adds.

"I only made one."

His eyes jump to yours before a brief look of confusion flashes across his pretty face. He seems to remember his own question soon enough. "You didn't want to give it to," he gestures vaguely behind you, "your friend?"

"No," you answer simply. This entire interaction was drifting into territory you weren't sure you were ready for. If his questions got any more interrogative, you might find yourself wondering how to answer them in any other way than 'Oh, the pie? I baked it for you because I have a huge, embarrassing crush on you, even if you've seemed intent on not knowing me.'

"He doesn't like pies?" he asks.

You can't help following the path of his fingers as he fiddles with the chain hanging around his neck. They brush his skin as he strokes the metal back and forth.

"I... don't understand what you're asking me," you say as you pull your eyes from his neck. "Is something wrong?"

He readjusts his position in the doorway, pressing his hand to the frame and freeing you from the constant distraction at his neck. He leans over you a little like this.

God, he's pretty.

"You a witch?" he asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"Did you put something in it?" he continues, still leaning well and truly into your space. "Something to make me-" he cuts himself off, brows furrowing.

"Are you asking me if I poisoned the pie?"

His voice drops, like someone might overhear, despite you both being entirely alone on this floor of the building. "I'm trying to figure out why all I can fucking think about is how you might taste on my tongue."

Your head rushes, all the heat returning. Then your eyes drop to the floor.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

You don't. His shoes are safer. He was flirting. More than flirting. He wanted you.

His fingers guide your chin up, it doesn't take much, a nudge. "I'll leave if you want," he says. "Never mention it again. Just tell me what you want."

"Did you like it?" you find yourself whispering. "The pie."

His lips crack into a lopsided smile. It's tiny, but it's a smile. "Loved it, sweetheart. Sent me to heaven."

"Would you... would you like to come in?"

He nods.

You go to turn, to let him follow you. But then, instead, you take his hand and lead him in. He's warm. You imagine all the sun he gets over there must've absorbed deep inside him over time. Maybe he could leave some of it behind here for you - that heat might leak from him if your kept him here long enough.

He follows where you lead, his hand still grasped firmly in your own. You're not sure why you lead him to the sofa. You aren't sure what you're expecting next. It's why you find yourself simply standing beside the piece of furniture waiting for him to say something – to let go of your hand maybe.

Instead, his thumb begins brushing over your skin. He's quiet, seemingly unhurried to break the tension building.

"I asked my friend to bring the berries," you confess quietly, eyes focused on your interwined hands. Confessions were always so much easier with your eyes downwards. "I wanted to make something for you... specifically."

"Why's that?"

His thumb continues against your skin. He doesn't make you look at him like he had before.

"Because I... wanted you to - I wanted your attention."

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, "So you baked me a pie?"

"I'm good at baking."

"You are," he agrees. Then his other hand reaches for the hem of your apron. He rubs it between his fingers a little. "Messy though."

You look down at the patterned splotches, pink on white. Then he releases your hand, taking that warmth with him. He only allows you a few seconds to miss it though. That same hand snakes around the back of your neck, skin on skin.

Your eyes are drawn to his without thought.

"Are you always messy?" he asks.

You nod, chewing on your lip a little.

He seems pleased with your answer, a small hum escaping his throat. "I like messy," he says, sounding a little far away. "Do you like messy, sweetheart?"

Your eyes drop to his lips, a little stained from your pie filling. "Yeah," you breathe.

He tugs you towards him before your have time to suck in another breath, attaching himself to you like he's starved. You can't help gasping a little into his mouth as he presses you into him with a hand to your back.

Holy fuck. Surely you'd wake up slumped against the door any second. Maybe someone hadn't just knocked on the door. Someone had opened it and knocked you out and you were dreaming about your pretty, brown eyed neighbour.

He groans a little before taking your lip between his teeth. No. No you were definitely awake. "So sweet," he mumbles as he releases you, his breath ghosting over your wet lips. "Can I have you?"

–

It's hard to keep his head on straight as you look up at him with those big sweet eyes. Can I have you? His stomach rolls as he waits for you to say yes. Please say yes. 6 months of denial and he was desperate.

You'd made that sweet little gift for him. Just for him. His little siren.

Then you're pressing against his chest, forcing him down onto the sofa. He looks up at you, at the stained apron and the hair sticking a little to your temples from the time spent making his pie.

Then you lower yourself to your knees.

Oh, fuck.

Your hands only have to brush his legs for him to get the hint. He spreads them, allowing you to shuffle closer to him – settling between his thighs.

Then you look up at him. "Can I taste you?"

He's keeping you. His head drops back as he collects himself. Then, "You want my cock in your pretty little mouth?"

You nod, fingers pressing lightly into his thighs.

Minutes ago he was fucking himself into his own hand imagining how warm you'd feel around him. Now you're between his legs, lips wet, asking to taste him.

He's careful to keep his eyes on you as he frees himself, intent on catching each and every reaction you make – he's keeping it all.

You're a little hesitant as you reach for him. "You're good, sweetheart," he encourages. "Touch me however you like."

It seems to be all you need. In the next second your soft little hand is wrapping around his length. His head drops back again as his eyes close.

It's a mistake, closing his eyes. He's not prepared when your wet lips press to the tip of him, soft and warm. He groans, hand automatically making a home in your hair. He needs grounding. He needs –

Your lips wrap around him. His little siren was sucking his dick into her sweet little mouth. His hips jump a little. "Oh fuck, that's right. You're all warm for me."

You hum a little around him. Then, you take him deeper. Hot little tongue dancing over his sensitive skin.

"Good girl," he groans. "Take it for me, sweetheart." He resists the urge to spill himself right here, right against your tongue. "Hm? You taking it for me?"

His hips jump again as he fucks himself into your hot mouth, wet and sweet and just for him. You'd wanted his attention. You'd come for him. Just him.

"You mine?" he gasps as he forces his head up to look at you. "You gonna let me fuck you?"

Your lips pull off him slowly, a little suction at his tip sending his head spinning. "Do you want to?" you ask, lips swollen.

He leans forward enough to begin lifting you, encouraging you to climb into his lap. Each hand rests at your hips as you settle yourself there, his leaking cock pressed between you.

"So bad," he answers.

You shift a little in his lap. He imagines you squirming on his cock.

"Me too," you confess. It's quiet, like it's bad.

Sweet siren.

"Sit on me," he instructs. "Want you to bounce on me, sweetheart."

You eyelashes flutter as you blink a few times, processing, deciding. Then you shift, reaching up under your dress and tugging your underwear down.

Something in his stomach stirs when he realises you were leaving the rest on, apron and all.

You grasp him in a soft hand, guiding him beneath your clothes – then you sink down. He's transfixed by the little sound that escapes your lips as you take him in. That, and the way your cunt feels squeezing around him. He might have to keep you for fucking ever.

Hot and sweet and wet and better than he'd imagined as he'd fucked himself against his counter minutes earlier. Better than any of the scenarios he'd dreamed up over the months he'd spent thinking of his sweet little neighbour.

You fall into him with a sigh once you're full seated, cock buried deep.

"Doing so well," he says, hand squeezing a little at the back of your neck.

You mumble something into his neck in response. He can't quite make it out, but he swears, it almost sounds like a tiny 'thank you'. He has to keep himself from filling you at the thought of it.

His hands return to your hips. You must take it as a prompt because you lean back from him enough to begin lifting yourself off him and dropping again.

It's slow at first, a little swivel in your hips, grinding yourself down into him.

The apron prevents him from seeing how his cock looks slipping in and out of your little cunt. He hasn't even seen it, that sweet little hole between your legs.

Instead, he feels.

–

It makes sense that a man as pretty as him would have the prettiest cock. One you wanted to taste. One that would have you slippery and ready to take him.

There's this vein that throbs in his neck each time he drops his head back with a groan. His neck. God you want to lean forward and bite into it. But he might not be into that. Next time, you think. Or the time after that.

God you hope there's a next time.

His fingers dig into your hip as you sink all the way down again. It feels a little like he's resisting, holding back.

"Minho?"

His head lifts, eyes a little glassy as he blinks at you. "Hm?"

"You can fuck me," you tell him. "However you want. I want you to fuck me."

He blinks again. His fingers dig into your skin harder.

"Tell me when you wanna stop. Just tell me," he says.

You nod. Then he's leaning forward and tugging you against him. His lips press to your skin just at the crook of your neck.

Then you're falling. He falls over you. Then he lets go. He presses you into the couch cushions as he drives into you, hair falling over his face. He's even pretty like this, with parted lips and brows slightly furrowed.

Your skin slaps together as he fucks himself into you. Messy, he'd said. He liked messy.

That's what he gets as he continutes to drive into you, as you begin to drip around him, as he fucks that wetness into you and over your thighs and then the sounds it all makes.... messy.

"Wanna fill you," he mutters. "God, I wanna fill you so bad. Wanna fuck my cum into your sweet cunt."

You squeeze your eyes shut as he continues, overwhelmed.

"You can take it for me, angel. I know you can. Sweet little thing made just for me. I knew it." He's muttering so much you're hardly sure he even knows what he's saying. His fingers are almost painful as they dig into your skin, like he can't hold onto you hard enough.

"Fill me," you gasp.

He eyes lift from where you join together to lock on your face. "Yeah?" he asks, a slight croakiness breaking his words up a little. "I'll make you all warm and sticky inside, hm? Just like your pretty little pie? That sound nice?"

Oh god. There was something inside you, something made for this – for him. You knew this was going to ruin you forever.

"Please."

He falls over you, then he bites. He bites into you as he floods you full.

[ivoryratdoggerythethird]

ok but bsd chapter 114 revealing the flipside of the soukoku dynamic in all its glory like *chef's kiss*

turns out that when the mission's (almost) done and you put skk in a room with no witnesses they just become each other

dazai is the one unable to stay still, agitated and wearing his emotions openly and very much stressing about a plan he can't understand (how the tables do turn), literally YELLING and RUNNING of his own violation and doing actual labor of pulling out "fyodor" from beneath a whole ass helicopter while injured without asking for help because the brawns of the team is actually secretly a black cat character

insane how chuuya makes dazai look like the overactive dog archetype here like Mister Gravity Control and I Crack Walls & Chains With One Kick is just sitting full-on cheek on fist poker face watching his beanpole of a partner struggle. his health bar is like full too besides the brief drowning stint meanwhile he himself shot dazai like three times after he crawled out of a crashed elevator

(chuuya is actually such a little shit it's amazing like it was kinda shown in him just letting kunikida blow himself up without even trying to take on tecchou or as if he couldn't just fly the helicopter away with his ability? the pm's trump card, stronger half of soukoku? mans said "boss told me come get you" and by god that is the only job he will do, overtime means nothing to him because he can't read, what a king)

chuuya is literally only willing to do the BARE minimum it's hilarious like he's done his part, he's given the Oscar-winning vampire performance of a lifetime, now he's pulling a dazai-at-the-ADA and simply refusing to work like. chilling in the back while dazai monologues and fyodor dies. bouncing sigma like a tennis ball. chilling a corner while dazai brainstorms. leisurely following dazai's running. chilling in the back while dazai huffs and puffs to pull out the body.

the biggest bsd plot twist is that soukoku on and off the battle field just switch roles for who's lounging like a bored princess while the other toils and actually does the work. if they both ever actually work on something at the same time yokohama would probably explode.

[maraczeks]

newsroom rw thread pt 15

[bobzora]

would it be way too predicable of me to say that shiori is my favorite outside of the unstoppable trio that is utena&anthy&nanami. would it be too obvious that i have a type of character that i like.

[kermit-coded]

okay i'm way late to the party but. the long goodbye job got me fucked up. eliot hardison and parker all holding hands as they die, mirroring sophie and nate holding hands. eliot's 'last words' being hardison's catchphrase. eliot being in the middle of parker and hardison. eliot being the one to initiate the hand holding. parker cradling hardison in her arms at the bottom of the elevator shaft. nate's monologue to the interpol agent. sterling's rage when he thought nate got the team killed. "eliot, i'd say call if you need anything but you never need anything." "take care of them." "til my dying day." parker being the mastermind in the final scene.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Poetic Genres

Whereas a poetic "form" defines the way a poem arranges sounds, rhythms, or its appearance on the page, a poetic "genre" is something like the poem's style. Many poetic genres have a long history, and new poems almost always seek to explore a new aspect of the traditional style and thus to redefine the genre in some way. The following list is a selection of the major genres of poetry.

allegory A narrative with two levels of meaning, one stated and one unstated.

aubade A song or poem greeting the sunrise, traditionally a lover's lament that the night's passion must come to an end.

ballad Broadly speaking, the ballad is a genre of folk poetry, usually an orally transmitted narrative song. The term "ballad" applies to several other kinds of poetry, including the English ballad stanza, which is a form often associated with the genre.

blason A Renaissance genre characterized by a short catalogue-style description, often of the female body.

cento A poem composed entirely of lines from other poems.

dirge A funeral song.

dramatic monologue This might be called a "closet soliloquy": a long poem spoken by a character who often unwittingly reveals his or her hidden desires and actions over the course of the poem. The "I" of the dramatic monologue is very distinct from the "I" of the poet's persona. Robert Browning was a master of this genre.

eclogue A short pastoral poem; Virgil's eclogues are one of the first examples of this genre.

ekphrasis Originally a description of any kind, "ekphrasis" is now almost exclusively applied to the poetic description of a work of art.

elegy This genre can be difficult to define, as there are specific types of elegiac poem as well as a general elegiac mood, but almost all elegies mourn, and seek consolation for, a loss of some kind: the most common form of elegy is a lyric commemorating the death of a loved one. Greek elegiac meter, which is one source of what we know as the elegy today, is not normally associated with loss and mourning.

epic A long narrative poem that catalogues and celebrates heroic or historic deeds and events, usually focusing on a single heroic individual.

epigram A brief and pithy aphoristic observation, often satirical.

epitaph A tombstone inscription. Several famous poems end with the poet writing his own. (See, for example, Thomas Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" or W.B. Yeats's "Under Ben Bulben.")

epithalamion A song or poem that celebrates a wedding.

fable A brief tale about talking animals or objects, usually having a moral or pedagogical point, which is sometimes explicitly stated at the end. Aesop and la Fontaine are perhaps the most famous fable-writers.

georgic The agricultural cousin of pastoral, a georgic is a poem that celebrates rustic labor.

hymn A song of praise.

invective A personal, often abusive, denunciation.

lament An expression of grief.

light verse Poetry that is mostly for fun: this can mean anything from nonsense verse to folk songs, but typically there is a comical element to light verse.

lyric This genre encompasses a large portion of the world's poetry; in general, lyrics are fairly brief poems that emphasize musical qualities.

masque Courtly drama characterized by elaborate costumes and dances, as well as audience participation.

occasional verse Poetry written with reference to a particular event.

ode A long, serious meditation on an elevated subject, an ode can take one of three forms.

paean A song of joy or triumph.

palinode A recantation or retraction, usually of an earlier poem.

panegyric Poem or song in praise of a particular individual or object.

parody A comic imitation.

pastoral Originally a poem that depicted an idealized singing competition between shepherds, "pastoral" has come to denote almost anything to do with a rural setting, although it also refers to several specific categories of the genre. Associated genres of varying synonymity are idyll, bucolic, eclogue, and georgic.

psalm A sacred song.

riddle A puzzling question that relies on allegory or wordplay for its answer. Riddles are often short, and often include an answer to the question posed, albeit an unsatisfying one. The riddle of the Sphinx, which Oedipus solved, is a particularly famous example: "what walks on four legs in the morning, two at midday, and three in the afternoon?"

romance An adventure tale, usually set in a mythical or remote locale. Verse forms of the romance include the  Spanish ballad and  medieval or chivalric romance.

satire Ridicule of some kind, usually passing moral judgment.

tragedy This genre originated in ancient Greek verse drama and received extended treatment in Aristotle's Poetics, which made the downfall of the main character one of the criteria for tragedy. The genre has since expanded to include almost anything pertaining to a downfall.

verse epistle A letter written in verse, usually taking as its subject either a philosophical or a romantic question.

If these writing notes helped with your poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

[acrid-wondrland]

Random TokyoRev Headcanons

🔑Mikey's favorite flavor is anko(red bean). Taiyaki, dorayaki, mochi, etc. It doesn't matter, it has to have anko filling. Fave ice cream flavor? Anko. What does he ask for on his halo halo when he and Izana go visit the Phillipines? Extra red bean.

🔪Yuzuha Is an unofficial member of Toman. The uniform she wears isn't her school's uniform, it's a custom one in Toman colors that Mitsuya made for her. She doesn't wear the ribbon around her neck anymore because once when she got in a fight someone grabbed it and nearly cost her the fight. The only reason she isn't an official member despite Mikey insistence, since she's a pretty decent fighter, is because she hates violence due to her childhood.

😵Shion is afraid of heights.

🚚Kisaki can't smoke because he has asthma. Every time he went to the Valhalla Arcade to talk strategy, he always made Hanma come outside to the back of the building so he doesn't die from the secondhand smoke. Hanma thinks it's funny.

🚬Hanma is left-handed. Also didn't get his Sin and Punishment tattoos bc of the Dostoevsky novel but because of the Nintendo 64 game lmao.

🎴Izana wants to learn how to play every Gackt song on his acoustic guitar.

💤Ran has dated more foreign girls than Japanese girls. Mostly Singaporean(a lot of rich Singaporeans club in Roppongi), Russian(a lot of Russian models come to Japan for work), and Korean(A lot of Korean tourists due to proximity) girls. He wants to try and date a French girl someday (he romanticizes Paris and France like a lot of young Japanese ppl do). He's enamored with foreign pop culture and is in his Passport Bro era lmaoooo, it's why he wants to be a foreign celebrity. And it's easy for him to find foreign girls to date bc Roppongi is popular with foreigners in general.

🎶Rindou is secretly a huge romantic and feels extremely pressured to be a playboy bc of his and his brothers' reputation. A lot of things most boyfriends would find a pain in the ass to do, Rindou actually looks forward to doing for his future girlfriend one day.

💊Sanzu: "While u were out partying w da Haitanis, I studied the blade."

jk jk but I hc that's he's actually a chuunibyou, he just hides it really well. Has whole shonen manga monologues in his head.

🐉Draken dawg HATES anko w a passion and can't stand it. Mikey's love for it is torture to him.

👠Inupi i saw a hc once that his red flag is that he's rude to the waitstaff and I laughed for 5 min straight because why can I see it???? lmao???

That aside I hc that he loves swimming and water in general. Like, in the timelines he ends up being a Yakuza he definitely made sure his penthouse had the fanciest infinity pool complete with custom lights, heating, a built in stone wall on the side that has a flatscreen TV, different connected sections w different elevations, etc.

💴Koko is half Chinese, from his mom's side. She's from the mainland, specifically Henan province and born in it's capital Zhengzhou. He's very proud of his heritage.

---

Anyone got any matching hcs lol?

[fanaticsnail]

Please, I'll be good

Masterlist here.

Word count: 1,200+

Synopsis: after rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.

Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin

Themes: unrequited love, semi-sub!love-interest x semi-dom!reader, gn!reader, kissing, confessions of love, he sits on your lap, he is incredibly needy, he just wants to kiss you, fully clothed, sfw, literally just kissing, you call him "sweetheart," brief mention of 'reader' having a friends-with-benefits relationship with another character.

Notes: I couldn't get this kiss out of my head, and I needed to write it down. It was written with Sabo in mind, but I could seriously see any of these wonderful men in his position. I love writing kisses 🖤. Big thank you to @sordidmusings for her suggestions with the inner monologue 😩👌

Tag list: @lostfirefly @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @carrotsunshine @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry

He saved you. Again.

Whether it was standing beside him in combat, rescuing you from unwanted attention at a tavern, ensuring you were well fed and hydrated during the day, taking care of all the supplies you needed upon your next adventure - he was always there by your side: your associate, confidant and friend.

In this set of unique circumstances, he managed to do more for you than simply tear you from combat. He saved you. Truly, saved you.

A finishing shot was aimed at you, and your body froze in place. With your eyes wide, he snatched you from your stance and whisked you from your place in the heat of battle.

After checking you for injuries, he cupped your cheek and uttered with all sincerity: “You're safe. I've got you.”

“Thank you, Sweetheart,” was all you managed to whisper in your shock, a name you had bestowed to him, half in jest, that simply stuck. He was a sweetheart, and you had no choice but to refer to him as such.

The relationship between the two of you was strong, as close as close friends could be. You shared your deepest secrets with him, and he shared his thoughts with you. You adored him, everything about him just sang to your soul.

At one stage early on in your comradery, you could've seen yourself diving into something deeper with him. But as you both opened yourself up more in your friendship, you chose to halt it in place. “Flirty friends,” is how you'd refer to it, “Just flirty friends.”

Casually lounging on the plush sofa beside him, you notice he's a little more on edge than usual. He's sitting up straight, rigid and firm beside you as his eyes fix on a point on the wooden panel behind the unwoken transponder.

Attempting to put him at ease, you sit up a little and rest your head on his shoulder and bring your hand up to encase his within yours.

“Thank you again, Sweetheart,” your words whisper as you trace gentle circles into the back of his hand with your thumb, “You're always so good to me.”

His body seemed to tense up more, the softest hitch in his breath alerting you of his discomfort.

“Are you okay?” You ask, leaning away from his shoulder to glance into his face. His eyes remain fixed on the point, his teeth clenched behind his closed lips.

In one final attempt to put him more at ease, you lean up and gently touch your lips to his right cheek. A soft gasp along with the turn of his cheek inwards had you pull away from him to check in one more.

“Sweetheart, what's wrong-?” You attempt to ask, he immediately speaks over the top of your concerned tone with an unsure and elevated tone. He avoided your gaze with his eyes, but kept his face turned towards you.

"-Look, I know you've got someone. M-Maybe even a couple of someone's. I know I'm not what you want-...” He utters quickly, his words tumbling over his lips faster than he can hold them back, “...-I just want you to know that you're what I want. You're the only one I want. If you could be that for me, for just a little while, I'll be so good to you. Please.”

You're left stunned. You’d often play into your friendship a little with some light banter and flirting, simply to see how far he'll play along. Flustering him, watching him hide his smile by downturning his face, was one of your favorite things to behold. Whether you were working, or relaxing in your home for the night with a few of the others - he was often flustered with your words and body language.

He quickly turned his head more and angled his chin down, seeking out your lips with his own. He hovered just before making contact, dancing with the borders of friendship and giving in to his craving for something more.

“I suppose you do need something beyond a simple kiss on the cheek this time,” you smiled at him, cradling his cheek beneath your right hand and drawing him closer, “You've been so unbelievably good to me, afterall.”

Smiling broadly, you lean forward to press your lips gently against his in a chaste kiss. He deeply and sharply inhaled through his nose, a subtle whimper rising from within his mouth. This small peck ended as soon as it began, his body chasing yours upon your retreat. He wordlessly called with his body to you, beckoning you into another kiss.

You give him just a touch more than the kiss prior: a real kiss that is deep, long and loving. A kiss that leaves him begging for more and more. Any time he thinks you may end it, any time that you start to slow down or lighten the pressure, he’s grasping to have you impossibly closer and begging you not to break your lips from his.

In his mind, he is crying for you, screaming for this moment to never cease. “Just give me a little more, anything. I'm sorry I'm not what you want but could you please keep doing it? Please, please? As a reward?”

“I was good!” He continued his inner monologue, hungrily claiming your lips against his own, “I can keep being good for you.”

You could feel his desperation from each kiss he placed upon your lips, hungrily seeking more and more each time he broke one kiss to lead into another.

“I’ll be so good,” he whispered into your skin, his breath tickling against your lips as your eyes widened in response, “Please. I'll be good. So, so good.”

“Sweetheart- mmmfph!” you whispered his name as he consumed your words with his mouth hurridly, his eyes flinching as he drew his body closer.

“Y-Yes?” He stuttered, his knees crawling up onto the cushioned base of the sofa as he prowled towards you. You responded by inching away from him and bringing your hands down to cup behind his thighs.

Urging him towards you with your hands, you press your back against the frame of the back-rest of the sofa, and usher him to straddle your lap. His hands flew up to your cheeks, his long fingertips finding the hair behind your ears and lacing them within it.

He hastily pressed his lips into yours, turning his head and moaning against your mouth. Prying open your lips with his, he hurriedly sought your tongue out with his own: savoring every moment you were granting him your undivided romantic attention.

Raking your hands over his thighs, you drew them up to his hips: fingers dancing along the hemline of his shirt. He winced away, a huffed laugh in reaction to your gentle touch, a laugh that caught within his mouth as you tickled his skin.

He reached his hands down over your own, breaking your contact away from his stomach and placed them on the back rest beside your head. He interlaced his fingers with your own, deepening the kiss as you took every moment of affection he was pressing into you.

“Sweetheart,” you whispered once more, attempting to break away your lips from his to no avail.

“Please,” he whimpered against your lips, “Please, let me keep kissing you,” he sobbed, kissing the corner of your lips and uttering, “I just want to kiss you.”

Your eyes widened, darting down to his lips and back to his beautiful eyes. Your lips parted as you began articulating your thoughts, halting only as he drew his fingers to your lips and pressed against them softly.

“Please.”

[mayghosts]

Little Gold Top: (5) Kate Martin x Reader

Summary: late night dorm confrontations and impulsive decisions

(Previous) (TOC)

Warnings: sad confrontation, wtf, not proof read!

AN: guys i officially have a fanfic author life, like shits crazy!!

Practice was rough. Kate knew it was rough by the way the coaches were whispering on her way out of the gym and how Caitlin looked at her in the locker room. Kate was supposed to be the captain, the glue that holds the team together. With everything going on lately she couldn’t help but feel that she was loosing her skills. Not to mention, an incredibly talented teammate.

She couldn't decide if it was worth it to double text you. Flipping her phone over again, she was met with her unanswered text. Her attempt to fix whatever the fuck was wrong. Is anything even wrong? Flopping into her bed she stared out the window, watching the sun dip below the trees. The idea that at the end of the year she would be graduating, you two would probably never even live in the same city again. She couldn’t help but feel a bit existential.

Quickly this existentialism turned to fear. Wrapped in her comferter headphones pumping Frank Ocean she couldn't help but think about how different you were. Not in a pick me way, but in an emotional way. Kate was always a bit of a hopeless romantic. Plenty of times she's seen a girl in the hallway and planned their futures together. But when she thought about you, she saw everything. You were everything.

As the street lamps outside the dorm flicked on she felt the pit in her stomache return. You were so close, probably only two minutes away; but you've always been so far. Sure the two of you had been physically close, and physically you two knew eachother like a married couple. Emotionally, Kate had no fucking clue who you were. And it killed her. It would probably only take her three minutes to get to your appartement. A two minute run down the street, up two floors, about fourty steps off the elevator to the left, room 203. Kate could see it in all her head. She would knock and you would open the door with a big smile. You would pull her inside and you would watch UP! on the couch and you would tell her about your day. She would listen and love every second of it. The way your hair falls on your shoulders, the way the light from the tv refletcs off your face, the way you light up as you tell her about the dog you saw on your way to class. She would even love the chocolate on your face from the icecream you would eat and your really long monologues about subjects she dosen't really understand, all because she loves you. She really really loves you, and she is so fucking scared.

Kate could feel the panic building in her chest as she swung her feet over the side of her bed. Pulling her shoes on she slipped out of her suite into the kitchen and out into the hallway. Where she was going she wasn't sure, just somewhere, wherever her feet took her. Into the elevator, down two floors. Running through the chilly night air she could feel the tears biting at her cheeks. Into the lobby, scan the emergency key card shes kept since freshman year, into the elevator, up two floors, fourty steps to the left.

Your Pov

You hadn't slept yet. You were deffinately tired, exhausted actually, but whenever you closed your eyes you just saw the missed shots and then Kates face. Neither of these were the right mateiral to lull you to sleep. Sitting on your couch, you let the tears flow. nothing seemed to be going right so far. Fuck Kate for not being able to keep it in her pants. You don't think you've ever been so upset with someone before. You don't think you've ever had someone like Kate before. Techincally, you don't even have her.

The pounding at your door startled you from your haze. You contemplated just opening the door without looking and letting the serial killer in. Maybe he would watch UP! with you, or put you out of whatever meta hell this is. You walked towards the door, stopping to grab a knife in the kitchen. Just incase.

Looking out the peep hole you were met with none other than Kate Martin. You glanced at the clock on the stove. 2:05, late enough to pretend to be asleep. As she started banging again you heard stirring from the room down the hall. dammit shes gonna wake Gabbie up. You unlocked the chain and lock and flung the door open. Stepping outside and shutting the door behind yourself. Kate seemed shocked to see you, funny seeing that she was the one breaking your door down.

"Okay, what the actual fuck-" "I love you." You snapped your head back to look at her in the eyes. For once, everything was silent. You gently dropped the kitchen knife as you reached out to grab her shoulder "Kate what are you talking about?" She shrugged away from your touch, "please I just... I need to... I-" You could feel your heart tear a bit everytime she failed to find the words. You left your hand out like a statue and watched as the tears streamed down her face "God I don't know, I'm scared I've fucked us up. We can't be done yet we have so much left I-" She palmed at her damp cheeks, attempting to dry the tears. Her hair was frazzled, still in the ponytail from practice. It was far too cold for the PJ shorts she was wearing and you couldn't help but wonder if she was cold. "-and I'm sorry it's so late I was just thinking that we have never watched UP! together, and I don't even know your middle name and I have been such a shitty friend!" "Kate, its so late can we-" "No! because I need you to listen. What kind of friend fucks the girl she loves in the back of a toyota? What the fuck happened to us?" "Kate!" You didn't often raise your voice, so it caught her off gaurd. You were most actually speechless.

You felt the emotions of three years of unrequited love pressing behind your eyes. Pulling her by her arm, you dragged her inside. She followed you like a lost puppy. Locking the door behind you pulled her to the couch and threw her a blanket. "Just sit there, and don't say a fucking word." She looked over at you with big eyes, and you pretended not to watch her as she sat awkwardly on your couch. You turned the kettle on, staring at it waiting for the water to boil. Maybe you could just incinerate yourself in the oven? You peaked over your shoulder to see her passed out on the couch, curled up with her head on the arm rest. You poured yourself a cup of tea, turned off the kettle and gently padded over to the couch. Turning off the lights you found your way to a spot on the opposite end of the couch.

Through the darkness you could see the curve of her shoulders, her blonde hair falling over the fuzz of the blanket. Truly a sight you could never get sick of. She really was the prettiest girl you knew, probably the prettiest girl ever. Everything seemed so complicated, these past years with Kate seemed so simple in the moment. Now it just felt like a big mess. How do you even fix this? What even are we fixing? Maybe that was a tomorrow problem. For now you were just happy to have her here.

[achrams]

𝐑𝐪-𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: On your nightly walk you run into a stranger, who befriending seems a lot more beneficial that previously thought.

𝐂𝐰: Vampires, blood, biting and obviously some good dry humping.

Being a huge fan of all things mythical had always been a part of your life. The idea of living in a world full of creatures that were better and stronger, probably more attractive too, though that just might be your humble opinion, it all filled you with excitement. That fascination had transferred over to your later stages in life, given how often you had hoped to catch one of those creatures of the night. Any would do, you just wanted proof that you were right. That this world had more to offer than plain grey days mashed into one dull blob.

Though despite your biggest efforts nothing seemed to work, nothing  at all. You’ve practically tried everything you know! If you look past the fact that all the information you held had come from reddit of all places, but that's beside the point. What mattered is you didn’t give up. Not an ounce of determination was left unused. Every single day the routine progressed until you didn’t even realise it had become a part of your life.

---

The days had turned to months and those into years. The hope was not lost but it was faltering ever so gradually, the countless tries had formed smaller and smaller acts. If before you went out of your way to really create contraptions or play chemist in your kitchen, then now you murmured a few sentences from a ‘spellbook’ before bed. It wasn’t much but it was something, because you still had some hope. Even if it was little and fragile.

On a fortunate evening, you had decided to take a stroll around the park that surrounded your lousy flat. A sanctuary between the tall rubbled buildings. You didn’t know what urge had pulled you into the crisp nightly air but you decided not to worry your head over it, no need to start overthinking. ‘My body just needs some fresh air..’ That's good enough of a reason for you.

Taking the first step outside was nice and relaxing after having to escape the rotten to the core hallways and clunky elevators of your building. It was a nice reminder that even in a place like this, there was a chance at some peace. A deep breath in, you closed your eyes for a moment. Savouring the gentle breeze and fresh air that rejuvenated your tired body.

The stars looked back at you when you opened your eyes despite liking the use of your other senses. “This is nice… every night should glow like this..” The words had left your lips without any further thought. Seems your heart let the love you held for the night out without seeking permission from your brain. It was a pretty sight were it not covered by clouds or light pollution most of the time.

A crack was heard and you snapped your head behind you. Eyes squinted from the darkness but also to show the concern that threatened to paint the canvas of your face. ‘There's no one here. Calm down.’ You thought to yourself as you took small steps backwards, keeping your eyes in the direction of the suspicious sound. ‘Just in case.’ That’s what you told yourself as the silence you once found peaceful now turned into something more of a lingering tension.

“Ookay, one step at a time..we are good..we are okay. I am totally not being creeped out-!” Your inner thoughts had turned to a monologue, between yourself and this ‘totally not there’ being in a bush, somewhere in the middle of your descending steps. Another step backwards and a plethora of emotions filled your core. Fear, surprise and then relief on top. All because a cat decided to jump out of the bush you had your eyes locked onto.

“Oh thank god..” The words breathed out into the chilly night as you rested your hand on your heart for a moment. You knew for certain that you weren’t insane now, it had just been a cat! Nothing to worry about. Stretching yourself up straight from this odd half hunched position, you turned around to actually go on this walk of yours, instead of fighting with cats that probably wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction.

As soon as you turned around you got a face full of something hard. “Ow!” Rubbing your hand against your forehead from the impact. A few groans left you before you managed to apologise to whoever you had turned into.

“Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going.” You spoke as you finally opened your eyes to be met with a guy. Not just any guy, a guy whom you have never seen before in your building or anywhere near this outhouse of an area. It was surprising to say the least. Meeting up with a complete stranger in the middle of the night. Totally not suspicious.

“Ah, it's alright. You seemed distracted enough, I should have said something.” You shrugged back at the apology being granted to you. A little sheepishly, letting go of your head to try and get a better look at this mystery man in this low lighting. ‘An accent. Interesting.’

“Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before.” The words were friendly enough despite the eerie way everything had been playing out thus far.

A moment of silence filled the air, sadly the awkward kind. ‘Nevermind..probably not the best idea to try and make friends at midnight-’ Your inner debate about continuing this conversation was interrupted. “Julien. Nice to meet you.”

Taking his held out hand, you shake it as a sign of respect while Julien continues speaking. “I’m visiting family here. Never seen this area before..quite uncanny of a place.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the description. It fits this place a little too well.

“Yeahh, this is what happens when you work just to get by.” A shrug left you as you sigh, stepping by him as you bury your hands into your jacket. “Hope you find this place at least somewhat pleasing.”

One or two steps past Julien and the guy had seemed to scramble from his spot to walk next to you, awfully happy as he kept looking around and sniffing the air a little. To make the walk a little less awkward you coughed and asked, “Sooo, special day?” to which Julien looked at you confused.

“I mean, you said you were here for family and you look happy…?” A noise of understanding left Julien as he nodded and vibrantly began explaining how some family lived nearby and they were planning to get a whole party set up for a feast of sorts. ‘Foreigner things probably.’ You weren’t one to judge so you nodded and listened.

---

The walk went relatively well, it was honestly quite odd how well the two of you got along and so fast too. Almost like this was fate, if you believed in such a thing. Soon enough you considered Julien a friend, going on midnight walks one too many times to count while he was in the area, but it’s not like you minded. It was nice, Julien was nice.

He had a nice smile that always seemed to shine with every joke you did and his hair, oh his hair, the way it moved when he nodded along when you spoke. Last but not least of all his eyes, they seemed to speak more than Julien himself. So playful and warm with the way he looked at you, making you feel less alone in this city you had to call home. 

Though there always seemed to be a hidden glint in his eyes. When you spoke, seemingly distracted with making the stories more interesting with dramatic hand movements, Julien looked at you. No, he didn’t look, he admired. Took in every detail of your being from top to bottom. You noticed it. Julien wasn’t as slick with his hungry glances and licks of his lips than he thought. You felt his eyes on you more than you’d seen him look at the pathway you two were walking on.

One night, however. you had a lot of fun and out of the blue turned to him after having gained the courage to ask, “Do you want to come over?” Julien looked back at you for a good moment before smiling back at you with one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. “I thought you’d never ask!” That was all you needed to hear to know that Julien wasn’t some stranger who’d leave you behind after his time here.

No clue where the need and courage came from, especially after registering in your mind that Julien seemed to be eating you up with his eyes every time you two were together. Perhaps you had the urge to hopefully prolong this friendship. It was nice to have a friend when all you knew were creepy elders that probably saw things that weren’t there.

---

With a smile you opened your front door and stepped in, holding the door open with a simple, “Come on in, make yourself at home.” The slight anticipation and worry on Julien’s face faded and he walked in. Muttering a small ‘thank you’ as he walked past you and now that you saw him in actual light, he looked even more ethereal than before.

Guiding him in you showed hospitality by offering drinks, foods, snacks, anything to welcome him but his eyes seemed to be glued onto the odd contraptions around your house. Refusing everything you offered with a smile. Your house gave off a rather interesting and floral vibe, but it seemed out of place for this dry block of a city. Embarrassment flushed your face as you stood before Julien, preventing him from eyeing everything so attentively, then looking down at him so he wouldn’t be inclined to stand up from the couch to take a closer look.

“Uhm, those are nothing, don't mind them!” You chuckled awkwardly, yet he seemed to tilt his head to the side to keep taking glances before Julien mumbled through a hearty laugh. “Are you trying to lure something into your home?” His face held an odd smile, like he knew something. You seemed to be too caught up in your embarrassment to notice that Julien seemed proud.

You averted your gaze to save yourself from the embarrassment of having to explain that from a young age you’ve been into mythicals and have been trying to catch one. With a sigh you sat down next to Julien on your couch and started speaking. Hoping to get this out the way so it wouldn't be brought up again. “You know those childhood stories of werewolves and vampires?” One look in Julien’s way and he was already nodding his head along with a small knowing smile. “So, basically I am convinced they’re actually real…and I might have been trying to see one. By…trying to catch one..”

The sigh you let out was deafening and so was the silence that followed, lingering and looming over the room. A chuckle brought your gaze back up to meet with Julien’s, effectively having broken your insecurity filled thoughts. “No luck then?” You had to laugh along at the absurdity of this confession. “No luck.” You let out an airy chuckle while shaking your head. “ Honestly I’m starting to doubt they were real in the first place.”

Julien seems to hum for a moment, his eyes lingering on you for a bit too long. Turning to properly face him, you give a slight brow raise and Julien smiles. “What if I tell you they are real?” His smirk widens and he seems more and more proud. Smug about something you can’t wrap your head around.

Instead of your confusion subsiding it actually increases. A lot. “You don’t have to lie to me to make childhood me happy.” Dismissing what you had heard. You didn’t need pity for something you had decided to not believe in as of 3 minutes ago.

“I’m not lying.” Julien pushes on and moves closer to you on the couch, trying to see when you would catch on. “They are real.” The scoff that left your lips couldn’t be helped. Looking away with a grumble, you had missed the frown that have made it’s way onto Julien’s face.

“Trust me..” Julien whispers oddly close to you now. You hadn’t even noticed the moment he had leaned over to practically kiss all the way up your neck. With a shiver you turn your head to try and look at Julien. Confused why he’s so adamant on having you believe this fantasy.

Within seconds you feel his lips on your neck, pushing you to lie down on the couch while he straddles you. “You see, I am one of these creatures.” Julien continues, his thighs holding you down on the couch while his hot breath fans your skin. “And my god do you smell divine. You probably taste godly too..”

No time was left for you to voice your scepticism and confusion about how you had ended up in this position. Pinned under Julien.  Because as soon as you wanted to say something, to ease the doubt behind your eyes, Julien had pressed his sharp fangs against your skin. Piercing through it with a satisfying rip only you could hear. ‘They are real. What the fuck!?’ That was your initial reaction before it began morphing.

‘Fuuck..’ your second thought was accompanied a sharp breath in, very well, so well in fact that it gave off the idea you had liked it. Which you, surprise surprise, did like. You had never expected to meet a guy, have him be a vampire, become friends, invite him over and then have him feast on you. Pressing your eyes shut as you came to terms with the tingly and slightly burning sensations that came along with being a blood bag for a vampire. 

To Julien’s surprise you didn’t push him off at all, just lying below him. Taking this. All pinned for him. He could hear your heavy breaths and the way your hands had moved to hold his shoulders. Hands tightening around his shoulders when it had become slightly painful, drawing out a low breath of pure delight. A groan if you will.

With slight hesitancy Julien pulled his teeth out from your skin, lapping the treasured bite clean to both save precious blood and to ensure you didn’t stain anything. Then he looked down at your flushed face with a twinge of amusement. His eyes travelled down to where he was straddling you. Your eyes still pressed shut as you’re more concerned with calming your erratic breathing even though you could feel Julien’s eyes travel down your heaving body.

Julien licked his fangs clean and shifted in his place, drawing out another groan from you. “Someone seems to have liked being fed on.” His words smug as he looks down at you, letting his fingers leave feather-like touches against your neck. The bite he had left there. It sent a thrilling sensation through his body. Seeing how you withered and shivered below him. A perfect guy to snack on.

“You’re mighty hard against me.” The words are more teasing than the last, purposefully grinding his hips against your hard on to prove a point. With a whimper you finally opened your eyes, staring at him with mild embarrassment. “Shut up-”

Your bratty protest was easily silenced by a meticulously constructed grind against you. “Shit- mmh..okay fine it..sort of felt good when you did that.” A fang bearing smile made its way onto Julien’s face. He ran his hand up your torso to play with his bite mark again. “That's rather cute. Getting all hard for me from a bite.” 

Julien leaned down to look into your eyes, holding onto your chin to keep you looking at him. The blush and slightly pouty look on you tugged at Julien’s heartstrings. “How bout this..” he proposed, his words sly and clearly in his favour. “You let me drink some more and as a reward I'll help you out with your problem.”

It didn’t take more than a second of consideration from you, because as soon as the words ahad left Julien's mouth you were already nodding. Begging with your actions to keep this going. You didn’t know why, but it felt so good. So good to have Julien feed off you. Not only did you have proof that these creatures were real. You had one right here on top of you. Only an idiot would let such a perfect opportunity go to waste. Aand you happened to be a self proclaimed genius.

A lick up the other side of your neck earned a shiver alongside a small groan. You could feel how Julien smiled against your skin. It was clear that he was enjoying this a lot more than he let on. You were certainly going to put that information to good use. Feeling how his fangs grazed along the delicate skin of a human, you let your hands sneak their way to Julien’s sides while he was distracted.

With a smirk you held him down against you and bucked your hips up. The sudden action made Julien’s fangs enter your system with a small yelp from him. Having Julien connected to you, sucking out your delicious blood, gave you a perfect recipe for satisfaction. 

Keeping him down atop you, you grind your hips up against him. Feeling the way both friction from your movements and the pressure from your jeans add to your straining dick, it was enough to draw out some breaths and shudders here and there. Though the star of the show was Julien and his fangs that were lodged right into you.

Julien in return had pressed his head against you harder, trying to get as much blood from you as he could. Hands holding your shoulders while he sucked on your neck. As a bonus it seems like your grinding had started to affect him and with small pants against your neck Julien began grinding his hips down against your dick. A perfect melody of pleasure and pain. It was wonderful.

Feeling how both of your straining hard ons pressed against one another. The friction from thrusts into nothing and pressure from trying to stimulate your erections made both of you needy. Feeling how your dick twitched in the limiting confines of your pants urged you to keep going. To satisfy yourself like promised by Julien.

Your already breathy and whiny mouth let out a louder whine from the loss of fangs in your neck. Julien was becoming sloppy, too pleasured out of his mind to continue feeding on you. Truth be told he didn’t need to anymore but you just tasted heavenly to him, so an extra snack later on wouldn’t hurt, yeah?

The sight of your neck stained red with iron, flushed face and parted lips added to Julien’s need for release. He pressed himself down harder and faster, desperately grinding against you with renowned determination. You followed along with just as eager moves against Julien as he moved against you. Hands gripping onto Julien’s hips as you murmur, “Pleasepleaseplease- Mmh!”

Feeling the pit in your stomach tighten, grow warm with every mutual thrust against one another. Pants and frantic bucks driving home the pleasure that threatened to consume. Julien moved down to finally lick your dripping neck clean, the sensation of his wet tongue adding to the immense pleasure of a nearing orgasm.

To your surprise however, it seemed that the licked up blood didn’t make it to Julien’s system, but instead was consumed by you. His lips pressing against yours as he forced you to taste yourself. The metallic liquid coating both of your mouths. It was a sudden chance and one that gave the final push.

With a groan into the kiss and a relatively more forceful thrust against Julien, you came with a shudder, feeling how Julien had done the exact same. Shuddering and panting against each other. Body convulsing against the couch as you come down from your high. Julien sat up straight, letting go of the kiss in a sensual way with his lips begging to stay connected to yours. To have your taste a little longer.

Julien breathed heavily on top of you, enjoying the sight of a satisfied human and being a satisfied vampire himself. Both of you letting out heavy whines and pants as blotches of sticky and wet residue slowly seep through both of your pants. It was a little pathetic. At least both of you came, right?

“You taste godly, and I bet you would feel even more exquisite.” Julien panted the words out as he watched you shudder when he touched your softening dick. “Unfortunately, I'm more than full for now.” 

Feeling how your chin was made to face Julien, you forced your eyes open and he smiled back at you. That same damned sweet smile. “I'll be back for a taste soon enough, make sure you rejuvenate yourself.” A quick cheeky kiss was pressed against your lips before Julien got off you. Swiftly moving to the closest exit, which happened to be a window, and leaving through that.

Your unfocused eyes only caught a glimpse of his figure turning to shadows as he disappeared into the night after murmuring something of a ‘Good vampire summoner’.

You were too hazed out of your mind to properly make sense of everything. Panting and overwhelmed, still coming down from your climax. ‘How the fuck did I get myself into this mess?’ You murmur to yourself as you finally let the activities of your day and now vampire filled night take over. Closing your eyes to get some rest and then maybe…hopefully think about this with a clear head tomorrow.

‘...shit.’ You couldn’t fall asleep at all. All you could think about was how it felt to have Julien sink his teeth into you and lap up your blood. Yeah…you better go and take care of your needy erection before you accidently manage to summon an incubus.