#i wrote some words

[xxxistential-crisis]

god and the devil are waging a war inside of me

- conversations with myself 09.23

[drgstrcowboi]

Darry x Fem!reader. They go out on a nice date but Y/n is wearing smth a lil revealing...maybe a little spice in there, but I understand if you don't want to write that 😅

i love this idea! thank you for the request!!

i have limited experience/comfort with writing spicier things, but i gave it a go. i'd say it's more a fluffy/suggestive vibe than spicy. i added in some little details about red lipstick, lol. i hope you like it <3

staring respectfully

even a perfect gentleman can be tempted

DarryxFem!reader. wc: 1523. flirty and suggestive date night between established partners. no real content warnings.

“Aaannndd, perfect!” you said to yourself as you finished lining your top lip with red lipstick. 

You had just enough time to adjust your dress and give the mirror a final look before Darry was supposed to pick you up. He said he’d be there at 7:30 sharp. And you knew it would be exactly 7:30 sharp because he’s never late, especially to pick you up for a date night. 

“Keys, wallet, lipstick” you run through the list of items to throw in your purse before the doorbell interrupts you. 7:29pm, of course, he’s running early because he’s excited. 

Regular date nights are not so regular with you and Darry, mostly because he works all the time and money…well it’s not exactly unlimited. But when you two do get the chance to go out, it’s really special. Or as special as it can be on the east side of Tulsa. You guys have a favorite spot, a little diner, that’s more than the Tastee Freez but not exactly the ritz. It didn’t matter though because Darry could make you feel special anywhere. 

“Coming!” you call down the hall, hoping he’ll hear you as you slip on a pair of black heels and start walking. 

You paused before opening the door, just for a moment. You wanted to collect yourself and look a little more poised before Darry saw you. What he didn’t yet know is that you’d gone out of your way to doll up for this date night. It’d been a few weeks since you were able to go out and you’d both been flat broke around his birthday, so you wanted to make it special now that there was the time and money for a night out. New dress, new shoes, new lipstick.

Red. Wine red lipstick. Nothing too flashy, but it would definitely catch his eye. 

“Hey, Y/N—oh shit!” Darry exclaimed as you opened the door, “pardon my french, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” 

Slam dunk, hole in one, mission accomplished. In the first two seconds, you knew he loved it. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked him in a giggly tone. He took a few steps back to let you fully out of the door and turn around to lock it behind you.

“Oh, most definitely,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as you twisted the key in the lock.  

“Well you looked like you’d seen a ghost there for a second," you teased him.

“I just—you look amazing, it took me by surprise…not that you don’t always look amazing, it’s just—is that a new dress?” he stammered. 

“Tripping over your words tonight, Curtis?” you teased again as you turned around in his arms, “yes, it’s a new dress. I wanted tonight to be special since, you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve been out.”

“Well…I…yeah, let’s go out then,” he replied, gesturing towards the truck without taking his eyes off you.

All the way to the car you could feel him watching you. He was normally so put together and sure-spoken. You’d definitely taken Darryl Curtis Jr. by surprise tonight and he was not going to waste a single moment’s opportunity to take it all in.

Ever the perfect gentleman, he opened the truck’s passenger door and helped you climb in. You were sure-footed in heels, but he always helped you up into the truck no matter what you’re wearing. Once you were seated, you could immediately tell that he’d put in his own kind of effort for the evening. The truck was freshly cleaned, tools taken out of the bed, seats even looked vacuumed. Soda and Steve must have done him a solid at the DX before he came over. 

That’s not to say his appearance was underwhelming in the slightest. As he started the engine, you admired the curve of his biceps peeking out from the sleeves of a freshly-ironed muscle tee. He was wearing his good jeans, the dark denim that fit him like a glove and had no holes. The best part, though: that one front curl of his greased dark hair fell effortlessly tousled along the middle of his forehead. It always looked, to you at least, like a special flair that someone put on a signature. Anyone could sign the name Darryl Curtis Jr., but could anyone else do that with such perfection? Probably not. 

“Is that new lipstick too?” Darry asked you as he pulled up to a stoplight. He took his eyes off the road and fully took in your face, appreciating it the way he always does but with a glimmer in eye that made you feel like his whole world and then some.

“Yeah,” you replied, “I heard you tell the guys last week that you like red lipstick and I didn’t have any so I picked some up.”

He replied with a deep sigh and a playful smile as the truck lurched forward at the green light. Darry’s always a careful driver, but you could tell it was hard for him to focus on the rules of the road at the moment.

“So you’re eavesdropping on the gang’s locker room talk, huh?” Darry teased. 

“It’s hardly eavesdropping when you’re all scream-talking in the living room and I’m six feet away in the kitchen,” you pointed out, “besides, aren’t you glad I overheard you say that?”

“Very glad,” he said as he put the truck in park down the street from the diner. He raised a gentle hand to your cheek, pulling you in for a soft kiss before getting out.

You got seated in the diner at your favorite booth, the one you and Darry always shared. Your red lips almost matched the color of the leather seats, like a picture in a magazine staged for perfection. Normally, he’s the type of guy who likes to sit next to his date on the same side of the booth, sling an around your shoulder, that kind of thing. But tonight he sat across from you, probably because the view was better.

“You two coming from some big party?” the waitress who always served you guys asked as she approached the table. 

“You’re dressed to the nines tonight!” she added, turning to you.

“Oh no, ma’am,” Darry replied for you, “just taking my favorite girl out tonight.”

“Special occasion then?” the waitress asked in a playful tone.

“It’s always a special occasion with Y/N.” Darry said, making you blush a little. 

He said it with a loving smile, never taking his eyes off you as he spoke to the waitress. If you’d have been on a date with any other man, any less respectful and upstanding man, the look he was giving you right now would have already escalated into a speedy trip to a private location. But not Darry. He wanted you, that was obvious, but he still had his morals. 

“You’re doing a lot of talking with your eyes tonight,” you said to Darry after you’d both placed your orders and the waitress was safely out of earshot. 

He cleared his throat and learned forward, extending his long arms across the table with hands outstretched and reaching for your own, “I could say the same about you. That dress is practically screaming at me.”

“Screaming what at you?” you giggled. 

“I think you know,” he replied with a wink. 

“Well,” you cocked your head to the side with a playful grin, “I think you should clarify because I was always taught that staring is rude.”

“Y/N,” he said slowly in a low tone, “I’m staring respectfully.”

“Oh what a perfect gentleman!” you teased.

“Even a perfect gentleman can be tempted,” he replied, “especially with a dress like that.”

The flirtation continued to escalate as the waitress came back with your food. Nothing special, but you were surprised that Darry ordered a beer. He doesn’t normally do that unless he’s nervous or…well, really wants to make sure he has a good time.

Once the dishes were cleared and the check paid, you two headed out of the dinner and into the fading Tulsa evening. Even the east side of the city could be charming at night, with the neon signs and other couples walking around, probably out for date night too. The Circle Cinema sign caught your eye as you walked hand in hand down the street. 

“Maybe we could catch a movie,” you suggested, pointing at the marquee. The truck was in eyesight now, and his gaze darted from your face to the outline of its fender and back to you. 

“Definitely not, darlin’” Darry replied, “we’re going home.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, “it’s still early, the night’s still young!”

“We’re going home,” he repeated, stopping and placing his two strong, calloused hands on your exposed shoulders, “because I’m tired of just staring respectfully at this dress.”

You giggled and grabbed his hand as you started walking again, “Respectfully, Curtis, I think I know what you mean.”

“Then get in this truck,” he said as he opened the door for you, “so we can go somewhere and get a little less respectful.”

[aurkitnarulaoge]

But it shouldn't be like that.

Love shouldn't be a curse. It should be a garland— it was made to be adorned.

[rs-hawk]

Do you have any writing tips? Even if it’s not necessarily for smut?

I won’t be touching on tips for smut at all on this post but I can make a separate post for it if y’all want.

My Top 10 Writing Tips

Love all your characters. Yes, even your antagonists. Hell, especially your antagonists. Even if they’re evil for the sake of being evil, if you want a 3 dimensional character, you have to acknowledge that they’re more than just evil to someone. Their mother. Their friends. Their dog. You have to think of their motivations, and honestly?-acknowledge that every character you write has a part of you in them. Maybe just your anger, your fear, your trauma, but love them for that, and it’ll shape them and your works in ways you never thought of.

Don’t reread your work too often! It’s hard (so very very hard) but when you have to crank out 2k words a day every day of the month but 2 it gets easier. Lol. Fr though just keep chugging along. You can reread later. You can edit later. Just get it done.

Don’t edit too much while you’re still actively writing. I know that’s hard, I really do, but if you keep rewriting, you’ll never be able to finish. You’ll keep writing a handful of scenes over and over again until you hate it, your book and yourself for “giving up”. You can edit later.

Write for yourself. It doesn’t matter how good of a writer you are, how beautiful or eloquent your style, if you hate it with every fiber of your being, it’ll turn to dust in your hands. I consider writing work, and when people enjoy themselves at work, not only do they do better, but the consumer enjoys it more. Think about it. If you’re at a restaurant and the workers are laughing and smiling with each other and seem genuinely happy, you’re more likely to go back than if they’re miserable, on the verge of tears and seem to hate being there, right? The same is true for your writing. Readers will enjoy it more if they can feel how much you enjoyed creating it.

Don’t just write. Listen to music. Get up and go for a walk. Text/call a friend. Watch a TV show. Pet your cat. Experience something. It helps you write but it also reminds you that hey, you’ve been here like eight hours. Get something to drink. Take a screen break. Go outside.

Be comfortable while you write. I’m not going to lecture you on posture because I’m currently laying down with my legs drawn up under me, my upper body turned and my phone in the air because I’m trying to put enough pressure on my lower back to pop it. Anyway, even if you can’t stay in one position long, switch. Listen to your body. A “proper” posture can end up hurting you if you don’t ever relax or if you’re putting too much pressure on your lower spine. It’s okay to lean. It’s okay to lay down. It’s okay to sit cross-legged. Just not at the expense of your body. Be aware, and don’t forget to get up and stretch!

Take breaks. Eat. Drink. Stretch. Go to the bathroom. Some people need them scheduled, and that’s fine, but also listen to your body. If you need to use the toilet but you don’t have another break scheduled for an hour, just go. Pause your timer or delay your alarm if you want, but take care of yourself.

Don’t be too rigid with your “starting” plot. We know most of us have that one scene or one character in mind we want to write, so we create a plot around them. That’s fine and I love it, but your writing is like a living creature. You might change while writing it. Your characters and ideas might change while writing it. Let them change. Let you change! You can edit later.

Remember it’s not a race. Just because you see some people dropping 3 novels a year, or 5 Tumblr posts every day doesn’t mean you’re not good enough. No one can write what you write. No one can create what you can create. Your work deserves to exist and be judged on its own merit. Not compared to anyone else’s, even if it’s you five years ago who could crank out multiple posts daily. It’s okay.

Don’t expect anything. Start writing because you love it. It makes you happy. It itches that part of your brain that no other hobby does. That no other love does. I’ve been writing for about 15 years now. I don’t know who I am without it. I have tried giving it up, moving past it, doing other things, but I always come back. Nothing else makes me feel the way writing does. I have gone years without writing, but when I start writing again, it’s like a high. I can go for hours, and I have! I have been lucky to be able to monetize my work, but it took 10+ years and was only because I got goofy about werewolves on a PTR app. You can’t go into the arts and expect to make money right away, or ever. You can hope, and do your best, but don’t only do it because you think you’ll make a living. It’s a sad but real fact. Capitalism makes us think we should only do stuff we can make money off of, but that’s a lie. You can AND SHOULD create just to create. Humans are meant to make art, and if writing is your canvas like it is mine, write to create. Fuck capitalism. Your art existing is enough reason to create it.

[goddessofwidsom]

I

wish

That if I die it would be with my lover together and us staring at the stars

I can't be what you are trying to mold me to be

yet if you were to leave I would break in tears

Was it all fake

You make me feel so high then crush me to the ground I cry for your love

I can't be a puppet for you

The melody you made just for me

Sounds like a terrible lie now

I won't be someone I am not

———End of tales

Oh as she sang the birds chirped

But no one heard the underlying meaning

Of the four sorrowful tales

[dark-hopeless-romantic]

Unpopular Opinion, but Madoc was a good father. Time and again, Jude mentions how he did his best to be a father and give the girls everything he had. He raised them with the royals, taught them self-defense, and never silenced their grief. After Jude was forced to eat faerie fruit and was assaulted, he wanted to genuinely help her, to defend her and protect her. He was there for them when Oriana tried to dominate Jude or Taryn. This doesn't justify him killing Jude's parents but Jude herself mentions that his anger is unmatched; once it gets out of control, there is no stopping him.

Jude described their relationship as an uncomfortable kind of love which reminded me of the quote - "If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand." by Richard Siken.

He taught them how to protect themselves because he knew how scary the fae world can get for mortals (he was married to one). He did everything in his power to keep them safe, and the way to do that was to keep them with him. He just underestimated Jude's thirst for power and her desire to prove herself. If he and Jude worked together, they would have been unstoppable, but they were too different.

[drowninginthoughts27]

23/9 Wash Word Count: 447

(jegulus dads) @jegulus-microfic

Regulus has been working non stop for hours. Reading over his court cases, getting writing done, sending emails he’s put off.

Accomplishing it all courtesy of the unknown number of Red Bulls and cups of coffee. Along with an overly bright screen making it impossible for him to fall asleep.

There’s a soft knock on the door frame of his office that snaps him out of his concentration. James stands there holding a red mug of some sort of steaming beverage. Wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old Gryffindor sports shirt with Potter printed on the back in big bold letters.

Regulus blinks away from his computer harshly, straightening his posture. James watches him with a warm glow in his eyes and a fond smile on his lips.

“What time is it?” Regulus asks, voice raspy from lack of use.

“Half past eight,” James answers before taking a sip of his drink.

It’s only then that Regulus realizes how dark it is outside of the giant windows of his office.

“Harry wants to know if you want to watch a movie. I told him you probably couldn’t cause you’re still working but that it was worth a shot to ask.”

Regulus stands up from his desk and stretches. Yawning as he does so.

“No, I can join you guys. I should probably stop working now anyway. I’m going cross eyed and any work I do now I’ll have to re-do tomorrow anyway on account of how tired I am.” Regulus responds.

James hums back in agreement as Regulus shuts down his computer and puts away the papers that litter his desk. He turns off the light and exits his office. Giving James a quick kiss on his way out.

“I’ll join you both in a little bit, feel free to start the movie without me.” Regulus says, trudging up the stairs to their bedroom.

He takes a quick shower and changes into comfier clothes before walking back downstairs to join Harry and James.

On his way into the living room he grabs the green mug filled with tea James has set out for him.

Upon walking into the living room he notices how quiet it is. Looking over at the couch he notices James and Harry curled up next to each other, fast asleep. Some random Disney movie still playing on the TV.

Regulus pads over to the empty spot on the couch that was left for him. He turns off the tv and drapes a blanket over them. As he does so a wave of love and affection washes over him. This is his life and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[accio-sriracha]

Winter Drarry for December :)

~~~♤~~~

Draco Malfoy loved winter more than most things in life. Truth be told, it made his cold heart just a little warmer each year.

Harry Potter was the first to notice; when Malfoy actually held a door open for him in their office.

"What's going on with you?" He asked suddenly, spinning around on his heel.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "Nothing, Potter. Am I not allowed to simply be in a good mood?"

Malfoy's usual insults were replaced with quiet sighs and fond smiles, his morning mug of black coffee replaced with peppermint tea and cinnamon stirring sticks.

He even took the time to partially decorate his office, a simple string of garland around his desk and a wreath at the door.

It was driving Harry insane.

The colder it got outside the happier Malfoy appeared to be, he even showed up at the winter ministry event, events he had never gone to any other time of year.

His smiles were more genuine, and it took a lot more to irritate him than it usually did.

The others were stunned by the change, having never seen him as anything other than Harry Potter's no-nonsense grumpy old auror partner. He actually hummed as he walked to the front doors on his lunch.

Harry kept finding reasons to be around him, just so he could see more of this side of Malfoy. He passed through, dropping off papers himself rather than calling for his assistant, asking to borrow a stapler, (which every room between them from the second and third floor carried as well)

He once bumped into him in the hallway, when Malfoy asked where he was off to his only response he could come up with was 'Going on a walk'

Despite Potter's efforts to remain discreet about his newest obsession with Malfoy, Draco noticed right away.

The thing that sold it? The stapler labled Potter's sitting neatly on his desk when Draco popped in to give him a copy of their latest assignment.

Draco decided to let it play out, upping the game a little more and going out of his way to be extra nice to Potter.

He'd offered to pick him up drinks from the cafe whenever he went out, always checked in on him during their field missions and stopped insulting him altogether. At one point, just to see the little vein pop out on Potter's forehead, Draco called him darling.

Potter's reaction was priceless, his face drained of all color for a moment before it all came rushing back into his cheeks at once.

He stammered out an excuse for needing to be somewhere else and hurried away to the nearest lift.

Draco smiled as he watched him go, realising that maybe he enjoyed flustering Potter a little too much.

His next plan was enchanted mistletoe, he set it up above his door, never walking underneath the frame if there was anyone in a five foot radius.

That is, until Potter showed up in his office again that morning, his cheeks still red,

"Hey Malfoy, they're requesting to see us in Kingsley's office for a debriefing at 3:30."

Draco nodded, "Very well, I'll be there."

Potter started to turn before Draco called him back,

"Actually, Potter, do you mind giving this to Lola for me? She asked for these to be delivered as soon as possible and I completely misplaced them yesterday." He held out a few pages clipped together, "You'd be doing me a huge favor." He added in a low voice.

Potter took them with a mute nod and cleared his throat,

"Right, yes. I'll get these to um... to Lola. Thank you." He laughed nervously.

"Everything alright, darling?" Draco asked, using his low voice he typically reserved for intimidating suspects.

"Yep! Yeah, everything's great. I uh-" His back hit the door frame as he took a few steps away, his cheeks flooding with heat again, "I'll go do this now."

The moment Draco stepped under the mistletoe they were both frozen in place. Potter looked up, his eyes wide,

"Is that-" He started. Draco sighed,

"Ahh, I'd forgotten about that. I was using it to try to keep people out of my office." He shrugged casually, "I suppose it backfired."

Potter suddenly looked back down at him, his eyes even wider, "Do we-" He coughed, "Er... do we, um-"

"Kiss? Yes, Potter, those would be the rules."

Harry nodded, "Right." He leaned back and scratched the back of his neck, "Of course." He muttered, clearing his throat again.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Draco sighed, holding either side of Potter's face and pulling him into a sudden kiss.

Potter's gasp was muffled against his lips.

The kiss that was supposed to be a joke just to see Potter's reaction.

The kiss that wasn't supposed to mean anything at all to Draco.

This kiss that was just... still... happening.

He couldn't pull away, Potter had melted into his touch, his arms wrapping around his waist almost instantly.

It was like magic, Draco had no idea when he'd gone from jokingly teasing to oh so many emotions coursing through him all at once.

He wasn't sure he wanted the kiss to ever end.

Potter pulled slightly away for air, "Malfoy?" He whispered, his voice hoarse.

Draco tilted their foreheads together, trying to fight the urge to shove his tongue down Potter's throat to get him to just stop talking.

"We're kind of in the hallway." He mumbled. Draco's eyes shot up over his shoulder, a few of their coworkers stared open-mouthed across the hall from them, unashamed of being caught looking.

Draco cursed under his breath and dragged Potter by his wrist into his office, slamming the door shut behind him and casting locking and silencing charms.

"Is this okay?" He asked, his hand coming up to cup Potter's jaw again.

Potter nodded breathlessly, "Yes."

It was years from then, as they were sitting in the Burrow with the rest of the Weasley's, newley-wed and happier than ever, that Harry confessed winter had been his favorite season ever since.

~~~♤~~~

[thefourfan]

Hey Nuzi nation, I wrote a silly little one-shot about them on ao3 and I think y'all would like it :3

[wordsandart21]

Moving on…

Moving on in today’s world is like unfollowing someone on social media: a digital detox for the heart. It’s hitting ‘delete’ on memories stored in cloud storage, and ‘unsubscribe’ from the emotional baggage cluttering your inbox. In a swipe-left culture, moving on is the ultimate act of self-care, a declaration of independence in a sea of past connections. It’s reclaiming your timeline, rewriting your status, and embracing the freedom to curate your own story. So here’s to closing tabs, clearing caches, and pressing ‘refresh’ on life’s browser. Because sometimes, the best way to move forward is to let go of what’s holding you back.

- Words and Art (No Backspace #2)

[evadneares]

Hey guys, I've been writing (and not finishing) some stuff on AO3, none of it is fanfiction based (sorry to disappoint). I write a lot of vague stuff, which you'll prob notice but I swear I'm trying to improve my writing style! Go give it a read if you'd like, here's the link to one of my new pieces: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55333585

[the-ellia-west]

HEY FOLLOWERS AND OTHER PEOPLE

GO LOOK AT THE NEW SCENES I POSTED ON MY SIDE BLOG @jakkon-and-rose-topic

Please?

It would mean a lot to me.

[drgstrcowboi]

dallas winston in repose

a/n: this is a drabble I wrote from the perspective of a Curtis-sister-type girl who's with Dallas. For backstory purposes, she works at the Admiral drive-in theatre from the original book/movie. And I just assume Dallas lives/stays at Buck's. It's just fluffy and he gets some sleep. Idk that's all I guess, I hope you like it :)

Rainy summer nights in Tulsa were boring but I secretly cherished them. The drive in where I worked always closed when it rained, so I’d get out of my shift and have the night off. Darry never much cared where I was on a rainy night either because he figured I couldn’t get into too much trouble if the streets were wet, I guess. And Buck’s was always slow on rainy nights, too.

So rainy summer nights meant nights where it was just me and Dallas. And I loved it when it was just me and Dallas. He was different without an audience.

This particular rainy summer night, Buck was out of town. So Dally and I settled into the couch in Buck’s makeshift living room and started flipping channels. Eventually he found a movie, some old western, that had just started and we settled on watching that.

Except that I’d much rather watch him instead. Even if he wasn’t doing anything at all, I’d much rather watch him.

As usual, Dallas was clad in only his favorite pair of faded jeans. Barefoot and shirtless, he was draped on the couch like a discarded jacket. The couch was just a little too short to accommodate his whole frame, so his feet hung off the end as he lay with his head again my shoulder.

He smelled like stale cigarettes and cedarwood soap, his favorite. His unkempt hair fell into his eyes, and I brushed it away, silently assigning myself the task of fixing his appearance in the dim lamp light.

As I ran my hands through his locks, I scratched his scalp gently with my fingernails. A kind of intimate touch I knew he wasn’t familiar with but that I hoped he’d appreciate. He shut his eyes in momentary comfort. His chest rising and falling with blissful inhales and relaxed exhales. Dallas rarely relaxed, at least like this, and it felt good to see him so comfortable.

“That feels nice, Doll,” he mumbled in a groggy New York accent. I bent down and kissed the top of his head in reply, prompting a hum of pleasure to escape his lips.

Dallas hadn’t been getting good sleep lately, as if he ever got much sleep at all to begin with. And I could tell he was starting to really doze off as I continued running my hands through his hair. Stroke after careful stroke, I’d get his locks straightened only for him to shift his head slightly in one direction or the other, causing a few of the front pieces to fall in his eyes again.

Even when he was only half-awake, Dallas Winston had a tendency towards restlessness. But I didn’t mind. I would have sat there all night straightening his hair with my fingers, maybe braided a few of his longer locks once he was really asleep. Kind of like how people will stand and stare at a painting in a museum for a long time. Repeatedly taking in what they’ve already seen just because it’s nice to be there.

Dally yawned, shifting his weight, “you’re putting me to sleep, Doll.”

“It’s cause you need sleep, Dal,” I whispered, guiding him as he shifted positions so his head was laying in my lap.

Two blue eyes gazed up at me through his half-closed eyelids. He brushed a hand across my cheek and grinned, heavy with exhaustion. Dallas was fighting to stay conscious and losing the battle slowly. In my arms, of all places.

I knew his current position well. Usually I’m the one half-asleep, looking through bleary eyes up at him while he’s got a gaze like no other fixed on my tired face. I always found those moments comforting, and in this particular moment I hoped he did too.

Before I knew it, his breathing slowed to a gentle, slumbering rate. I looked down at his face to see his eyelids fully closed and his mouth slightly agape in sleepy relaxation. Dallas Winston in this state is a rare sight. I feel like that should go without saying. He’s not a man that relaxes. Or maybe relaxation is not something that visits this man often. I’m not sure.

“Hmm not asleep, Doll,” Dallas mumbled through the haze, “I know you’re staring at me.”

“Shhh,” I cooed, “relax, Dallas, it’s okay. You can fall asleep. You need some shut eye.”

“M’fine,” he protested, as if something needed to be wrong for him to find a state of repose like this.

“Sure, baby,” I remarked, returning my hand to run it through his hair, “whatever you say.”

Rain continued to pour outside as whatever old western was on the TV ended. The good guys one, no surprise there. I didn’t catch much of it though because I couldn’t stop watching the St. Christopher on Dallas’s chest rise and fall with his sleepy breathing.

Just me and St. Christopher, protecting one Dallas Winston in his sleep.

[magoopi]

Bond [Mor]

A/N: never ever posted anything that i wrote, so im pretty nervous. english is also not my first language so i apologize for any mistakes. the text also doesn't looks justified on web? please let me know if i need to change anything, hope everyone enjoys this :)

Warnings: Suggestive content, allusions to torture, no explicit sex, Mor helps reader take a bath, F!reader.

Bond [Mor]

A/N: never ever posted anything that i wrote, so im pretty nervous. english is also not my first language so i apologize for any mistakes. the text also doesn't looks justified on web? please let me know if i need to change anything, hope everyone enjoys this :)

She didn't know how long she had been there, and she wasn't sure if she was alive. She looked again at the wall in front of her. She didn't know who the people decaying there were, she didn't know their names or where they came from, but still, she felt for them, for those who had suffered the same fate as her. Her thoughts drifted for some time, maybe countless minutes or not more than an hour, she would never be able to say for sure.

Warnings: Suggestive content, allusions to torture, no explicit sex, Mor helps reader take a bath, F!reader.

The metallic smell hung in the air contained flames in what looked like transparent boxes, and floated in the corners of the purple cave. If it weren't for the smell, in another situation, it could be considered a beautiful place, something she would aspire to visit one day, but the bodies nailed in a position similar to hers and the remnants of blood staining the walls in front of her did not allow her to dream so high.

The girl couldn't remember how long she had been there, and she wasn't even sure if she was alive. What would her friends say if they saw her like this? The pathetic way she had ended up, trapped and suspended in the air by countless chains attached to the ceiling and floor of the cave that wound up her body, a macabre version of the jewelry she had once worn, her arms pinned with metal bars.

She closed her eyes when she heard footsteps approaching, already knowing who it was and fearing who was coming. Seconds later, she felt a breeze near her face and opened her eyes, coming face to face with the Hybern commander, who had claimed her as a prize after breaking Velaris' barriers. She had never seen the figure with purple hair until the day she had been captured.

Mor had asked her countless times not to leave the city alone, especially with all the threats that were looming with the approaching war, but (Y/N) had ignored the request when she saw Mor at Rita's, smiling while whispering to a fae she had positioned on her lap, not even giving her a chance to realize she had been caught.

(Y/N) knew she didn't stand a chance with the blonde; Azriel had tried for 500 years without success and had never gone beyond a dear friend, even though the bond of partnership had clicked for her, it didn't mean that Mor would accept or want it. But she wouldn't torture herself by watching the scene in front of her. She ran from the bar as fast as she could, bumping into some people on the way, feeling the urge to escape. No matter how fast she ran, it never seemed like enough; the cold had no effect, and her body felt too hot, she wanted that feeling to go away, to disconnect from everything she felt for Mor.

She couldn't see who was behind her; their sweet scent made her dizzy. The terror still ran through her veins when she, still from behind, pulled her closer and ran a hand over her shoulder, lifting her chin with a finger.

She sat on one of the benches on the street, near the portal she knew was where the passage out of the city was, hidden and camouflaged. Clutching her chest, she tried to calm herself, feeling like she was burning and freezing at the same time, terrified, she knelt on the ground, burying her head in the snow that had accumulated in front of her.

When she felt well enough, (Y/N) made a move to get up, thinking about how to get back to the House of Wind without worrying her friends, and how to explain the mess she was in at the moment. But then she saw two figures approaching, hidden in the shadows. They shouldn't be there; they shouldn't be able to enter. Looking in horror, she tried to get up and run, but before she could reach the nearest house on the street, a hand closed around her neck.

"Hmm, so you're the High Lord's little pet? I never imagined he'd hide someone so delectable," a female voice purred, dripping with malice.

She couldn't say anything; she struggled to respond, to say anything, to show that she wasn't weak, even if it was a lie, but she could only whimper in response, her hand tightening around her throat. Suddenly, cold hit her like a barrier between her and the snow around them. She could feel the cold-like needles on her skin; her face wet with snow didn't help. She felt her whole body shivering, and she couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the fear that flooded her.

She forced herself to take steps forward; she needed to warn someone. No one should be able to pass, let alone break the enchantments that protected Velaris. But she was pulled back towards the woman's chest, her hand tightening on her throat. Suddenly, she felt her entire body go rigid, unable to move.

"No, no, no… be a good girl and stay quiet," she whispered in her ear, running her tongue along her neck, where she licked, it felt like she was on fire from the inside out. Tears streamed down her face, but she couldn't even cry. She saw Attor passing by her side, his gaze fixed on her as if he could see into her soul before pointing at her and speaking to the girl who held her.

I only came back to myself when I was already chained in the cave. Now I could see the woman who had kidnapped me clearly. Her purple hair extended to her waist; she was relatively short, with extremely pale skin, as if she had been painted to look like a specter, her intense yellow eyes staring at me, dressed in black pants and a top with sleeves, and thigh-high boots. In her hands was a small knife, which changed color as the light hit it, blending purple and green to form new shades.

"This bitch belongs to him; she can lead us to them," he said, still looking at her, and muttered something, still looking at her, and began to walk towards the shadows, heading back to the portal and crossing it without any effort.

The woman behind me raised her hand, smoke emerging from her palm enveloping my body, and I felt my mind grow heavy before hitting the ground. My eyes closed against my will; I was aware of everything around me but couldn't make out anything. It was as if my mind was functioning in a limited way as if I had forgotten something important.

"So, you've decided to wake up?" she asked with enthusiasm while wielding the knife in her right hand.

She approached me and raised her hands, causing the chains to adjust to her command and anchor themselves to the cave floor. With a giggle, she ran the knife under my shirt, the cold blade made my skin prickle, and chills ran through my body. I wanted to move away, but aside from the chains holding me still, my body didn't move, as if it were disconnected. I scanned my limited field of vision from side to side, looking for something, anything that would help me avoid the knife's touch.

'I thought it would be a good idea to let my toys know each other.' Wylla smiled, showing her teeth as she leaned on the flat iron wall.

Before I could even formulate a line of thought, the blade was pushed between my ribs up to the hilt, tears streaming down my face, I couldn't scream or move, my vision blurred as pain coursed through me, pure fire running through me, it felt similar to when she licked my neck but now it had been intensified, I felt the knife moving inside me, opening the hole she had created.

In front of him was a woman of dark skin chained to the ceiling and two legs tied to the wall of the cave with iron bars, on her head, black ears like those of a wolf were moving together, capturing the grumbling of (Y/N). The woman in front of him seemed in a better position than (Y/N) and the man on his left but could not say for sure. Her eyes wandered a little further and she caught the girl's black tail, now tied from top to bottom next to her body.

When Wylla came back, she knew that that was going to be the last time, she would be killed like the other two, she prayed to Mother that she would make a mistake and kill her quickly.

For several days the three observed each other, seeing each other being tortured, Wylla came back eight times, in one of them killed the male, incinerating his body, he burned for a few minutes, stuck by the chains, his body swung as the flames licked the skin and marked the contour of his body on the wall behind him. T

he smell of burned meat remained in the air for longer, after (Y/N) saw the girl in front of her being constantly beaten, without even being able to close her eyes, when she thought that it was finally going to end, Wylla took the knife that she had seen the first time and made a hole in the neck of the girl, she bleed for long, also caught the chains but just like the male, she could move again, her blood spitting and flowing through her body and through the wall behind her that was always moving, (Y / N) heard her screaming and forcing chains for what seemed an eternity until she no longer had forced her body to stay inert.

She approached with a new knife in her hand, it was orange and had what she remembered to be rooted in the blade, Wylla took out of her pocket a pot with a yellow liquid and removed the lid, as soon as the smell hit her had the confirmation of what the liquid was, a weaker version of the poison used in beam arrows, this killed faster when it came into contact with her blood, it would spread through her veins, mixing and passing through all her organs, corroding one by one. She placed the tip of the knife in the opening of the pot and the yellow liquid, climbed through the blade, quickly filling all the loops in the Knife.

Wylla approached, leaving a drop drip on the first cut she had done, was clearly infected, which was going to accelerate the poisoning. When the poison drop hit the wound, I felt like I was going to vomit, the pain stronger than any injury she had done before, I couldn't lower my head and swallowed with bile, my stomach burning.

She laughed as she looked at me and moved her fingers, suddenly I regained control of my body, and I fought against the chains, only at that moment did I realize that my wrists were in living flesh through the chain. I cried and coughed trying to get rid of all that. Wylla passed the knife through the left side of my body, as if drawing my contour, when she reached my hip, she wrapped up her knife and pulled it towards my shoulder, opening a new wound, I yelled as I felt the poison spreading through my body.

I started losing my senses, I didn't know if I was fainting or finally dying. I let the darkness take over me, I just wanted it to end, one way or another.

All the time I've been trapped in the cave, I haven't thought of Mor or Rhys, Azriel or Cassian. I couldn't think of anything, as if my mind was wrapped in a cloud, it seemed as if everything before that place had been stolen from me and sub-substantive by nothing. Now I was wondering if they would ever know what happened, if anyone had seen Wylla and the Attor, was Velaris still standing? The war had already begun? Were my friends alive? Would you find them soon?

Azriel flew over Velaris wrapped in shadows, when he saw (Y/N) running from Rita’s to the limits of Velaris and playing on the ground, was flying towards her when he noticed the two figures crossing the portal, discussed what to do, and quickly crossed into the room where Rhys, Feyra and Amren were, the lower had already realized that the enchantments had been broken.

Two days after her disappearance, he sent a message saying he had found a cave in Tamlin's territory reeking of her scent. As soon as they received the message, Mor, Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel crossed over, arriving in Tamlin's territory within seconds. When Tamlin saw Feyre, he ran towards her in a fit of rage, trying to pull the fae behind him. Before he could reach her, Cassian stood in his way, growling, and showing his claws. Rhys stepped in before a real fight could break out.

'One of the Attor and one of the commanders of Hybern are in the gate, (Y/N) is also there to come back to get her.' Azriel exclaimed before crossing back. Mor felt a strain in his chest and crossed behind Azriel to make sure that (Y/N) was fine.

Arriving there they faced for a few seconds the empty place before the shadows of Azriel began to travel every corner of Velaris in search of his friend.

Days passed without anyone finding even a clue about (Y/N)'s whereabouts. Everyone in the Inner Circle was desperate, even Amren, who never showed her emotions, walked with her head down and grumbled at anyone who tried to talk to her more than necessary. Mor cried every night, and everyone could hear it, but no one questioned her, knowing how much (Y/N) meant to her. Rhys and Feyre worked day and night trying to find any trace of her outside Velaris, while Cassian patrolled the boundaries of the Spring Court.

"We're here for (Y/N)," Rhys said with a false calm, the threat more than clear. "If you try to interfere, I'll break you piece by piece, and no one will even remember what you once looked like."

Lucien nodded towards the forest at the edge of the property, and without wasting another second, they all crossed over, leaving the other two far behind. The group spread out, and it was Azriel who found the cave. An enchantment sealed the entrance and hid it, camouflaging it among the trees. Rhysand broke the enchantment effortlessly, and they all quickly made their way inside. The long corridor led in only one direction.

Mor frantically pulled at the chains while Cassian and Feyre held (Y/N), trying to close her wounds as best they could. Azriel could hear her heartbeat growing weaker with each passing moment. Rhysand delved into her mind in search of her essence, which hung by a thread.

After walking for a few more minutes, they came face to face with a smooth metal plate. Before anyone could make a move, Cassian kicked the plate, which hit the wall in front of them, revealing what seemed to be a square room, illuminated by floating flames. Chains were attached to all the walls, and to the left of them was (Y/N), chained and almost unrecognizable.

Blood dripped from her body as she struggled against the chains. In front of her stood a short woman with purple hair, holding a dagger soaked in poison, who now looked at them with eyes filled with hatred. Rhys entered her mind and began to dismantle her piece by piece, but Azriel stepped forward, grabbing her by the throat, his shadows choking the girl. She squirmed in his grasp before the shadows reached her heart, which exploded in her chest, blood flowing from her mouth and nose as he threw her against the wall, contorting her body at an unnatural angle.

When the three of them finally removed (Y/N) from the chains, Cassian lifted her carefully, turning his head quickly when Mor began to growl, showing her teeth at him. They would have laughed at the situation if they could, teasing Mor, but everyone could hear the girl's heartbeat growing fainter in Cassian's arms. Quickly, they crossed back to Velaris, where the twins were already waiting with doctors ready to care for her.

Mor refused to leave the door of the room all day. Her thoughts wandered, and the woman she loved was her partner, happiness, and fear clouding her thoughts. She had never thought she could have a partner, and now the fear of (Y/N) rejecting her or not being able to make the girl happy paralyzed her. She was afraid of falling in love, but when (Y/N) became part of the Inner Circle, it happened without her even realizing it. When she realized she was in love, she tried her best to shut off that feeling, not wanting to allow herself to love and be rejected in the end.

Rhysand brought a plate of food at some point during the day and leaned against the wall.

"It's normal, you know? The fear of not living up to her expectations or not being good enough," he said, a smug smile on his face.

Mor raised her eyes to him, blinking slowly as she processed what he had said. She sighed softly, placed the plate on her lap, and looked at him again.

"I don't even know if she knows about the partnership or if she wants to accept it. I don't even know if she's going to survive," she said softly, tears threatening to fall.

"I think you're the only one who never noticed how she looks at you. Every time you arrive, her gaze follows you. You're always the first person she thinks of when we're planning anything," he replied firmly as he knelt in front of Mor, hugging her and stroking her hair as she cried.

"She'll be fine, and when she wakes up, you can talk to her better," he whispered.

The doctors left (Y/N)'s room in the early hours of the morning, as the sun began to rise again. They approached Rhysand and Mor, who were waiting together outside.

"We've given her a tonic to keep her sleeping for another three days, to allow her body to rest. We'll leave some for her to take when she wakes up to help with the pain and show her how to change the bandages. I'll be back in a week to check on her," said the older woman of the two before going back into the room to demonstrate how to clean and cover the wounds.

The three days passed slowly, dragging on for Mor's despair. Nuala and Cerridwen helped change the bandages and continued bringing food to the blonde, who refused to leave her partner's side.

Opening my eyes, I tried to lift my head to look around, but fatigue and pain overcame me. I blinked to adjust to the light and realized that the ceiling above me was that of my room in Velaris, in the House of Wind. I smiled as I tried to process everything that had happened. After some time, I sat up with difficulty, my whole body aching, my head heavy, and I had to take deep breaths to avoid vomiting.

I spotted Mor sleeping in a chair beside the bed, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, swaying with the breeze. I opened my mouth, but my throat was dry, and I coughed violently when I tried to force myself to speak. I shrank back, as the effort made everything hurt even more, and my vision blurred with tears. I heard Mor gasping and rushing towards me. She brought a glass of cold water to my lips, then wiped my face with her fingertips, a smile adorning her features.

I drank eagerly before she told me to slow down and moved the glass away from me. Then, she handed me a pain tonic and instructed me to drink it. She left the room quickly and returned with a plate of bread and some pieces of cheese in one hand and a bowl of fruit in the other.

She sat in front of me, crossing her long legs, and placed the fruit bowl on her thigh while holding a strawberry and feeding me slowly, alternating with sips of water. When I finished, she took the

plates to the kitchen, all the while keeping a smile on her face. When she returned to the room, she lay down beside me.

"I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to promise me that if you're uncomfortable, you'll let me know, and I'll leave, and we'll go back to how we were before. We don't have to talk about this anymore," she said, looking into my eyes.

I nodded, and she propped herself up, sighing before starting.

Before she could continue, I pulled her by the neck, pressing her body against mine, and kissed her slowly, our mouths moving delicately together. She wrapped her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss, sighing, her warm breath against my mouth. She pulled away to breathe, resting her forehead against mine, and smiled, running her fingers over my hip.

"I've always loved you, the way you laugh at Cassian's nonsense, how you get along with Azriel, how you admire Rhys and Feyre's love, how loyal you are to your beliefs, how your cheeks blush in the cold, the way you dance when you're drunk, how you take care of us, how happy you are drinking a cup of hot chocolate, how you fight for what you believe in… I never thought I'd fall in love for real. I guess I never even thought about it much, but the little I did scared me. I've always been afraid to fall in love, to give myself to someone and have them hurt me, play with my heart.

But then you came along, and even though I didn't want to, I couldn't fight it. The day we found you when I saw you chained to that wall, I discovered that I have a partner, and that terrifies me because I don't know if you love me, I don't know what love means to you, if you want a partnership with me, if I could make you happy, if you love someone else…"

"I knew about the partnership for some time, but I didn't say anything because I didn't want to trap you. I didn't want you to feel any responsibility because of it, or feel like you couldn't be with someone else because I'm always around. I want you to be happy, no matter who it's with," I whispered, our foreheads together, feeling her tears wetting my face. I opened my eyes, looking into her eyes, memorizing every detail, the piercing color of her eyes, the sweet perfume scent that emanated from her, her hands caressing my nape, the shape of her red lips.

She pulled me closer, and I sighed as fatigue set in. I wasn't in pain yet, but the exhaustion was still there. My eyes grew heavy, and I snuggled into Mor, who kissed my forehead before resting beside me.

We slept together for a while, and when I woke up, it was already night. She wasn't in the room, and I started to make the bed when I felt her arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close to her. I felt her breath on my neck, making me shiver. Mor placed her hands on my hips with care, pulling me closer to her, and sighed softly. She turned me to face her, and we went back to our room, starting to undress the bed. I felt her arms around my waist, pulling me close to her, and I felt her breath on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Mor put her hands on my hips, gently pulling me into her. She turned me to face her, and we continued undressing on the bed.

"Maybe we should dry ourselves; I'm starving," I suggested, feeling a bit awkward. I didn't want to ruin the moment.

"We should, I think we've spent enough time in the water," she said, picking up the plates and returning to her room, leaving me with a pile of clothes. When she turned around and saw me staring, she blinked and gave me a little smile. I covered my face with my hands to hide my blush.

She came over to me and extended one of her hands to help me out of the tub, looking me up and down. She bit her lower lip when she saw my top come up, but she didn't say anything. I raised my arms slowly to avoid pain and let her slide the garment off, dropping it to the floor and leaving me exposed. I covered my breasts with my arm and looked down, feeling my body heat up with embarrassment. She then hooked her finger in the waistband of my pants and slid her arms around my body, placing one hand on each side of my hips. She pulled down the pants along with my underwear. She helped me remove the bandages, and I stared at the red welts running down my body. Mor raised my chin gently and gave me a short kiss, diverting my attention from the mirror.

After entering the water, I sat on one of the stone steps and turned to her, feeling embarrassed about how close she was to me. She dipped her head into the water, and I brushed her hair away from her neck, placing wet kisses there. I felt her skin prickle as I kissed her neck lightly, and I chuckled softly in her ear. I leaned back, letting her hair fall onto my chest, and looked out at the starry night, trying not to think about how beautiful she was and how close she was to me. The night in Velaris never ceased to amaze me, the sea of stars rising beneath us, how many dreams and wishes did those stars hold?

We descended the stairs to the terrace slowly, leaving the kitchen for later. We stopped in the kitchen and prepared dinner together, taking longer than usual because I still felt tired. We then went back to the room and fell asleep side by side.

[marydarkblacknoir]

Once again I'm not the one you're talking about.

[dorkasaurus-club]

Elia Hates Flowers *chapter 1*

this is my first time posting a fic!!! it took... a LOT of courage and stuff for me to post this, and it's not beta read, also this chapter is mostly world-building and establishing elia... but i hope y'all enjoy (plus i have 2 more chapters written and another one brewing HEHE)

Sun&Moon x OC

Chapter one. Well that's rude!

Imagine living most of your later teens living in a basement. Imagine you have a "curse". the hanahaki disease. having to fear your own heart. that was Elia's life.

"Elia!" her mother calls "Breakfast!"

a plate slides down a small ramp on the side of the stairs, installed during her first year of 'safety' as her parents say.

'this is my life.' she thinks to herself as she hauls herself over to the stairs, letting her ankle-length hair flow behind her. 'living in the basement forever so i don't choke on love flowers. not how most spend their life'

every day it was the same thing. every day for over 4 years she has the same routine. wake up, breakfast, work out, shower, lunch, study whatever knowledge she can get her hands on, dinner, sleep. every day the same boring story.

but today there was a candle in her pancakes. and an envelope on her platter. she tilts her head like a confused puppy.

"that's... odd." she says softly, grabbing the envelope and opening it to see a job description, a key, and a letter from her mother that is covered with little doodles of small light-blue flowers

Dear Elia, As you probably have realized, today is your 18th birthday, and your father and I have decided you are old enough to fly the nest, and thrive on your own. we have taken the liberty of getting you a job and an apartment. you have until noon to pack, and get your stuff in my car, and I'll drive you to your new home. the key in in the envelope. love, Mom

Elia blinks.

"what?" she seethes "they're kicking me out? and she even had the gall to draw the very same thing that keeps her trapped. those blue flowers.

"we're not joking, get packing~" her mother calls

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a few hours later she's unpacked her few items into her small apartment. the apartment has three rooms, the living room/kitchen/laundry room, bathroom, and her bedroom. all the walls were lavender, and the fridge was entirely empty.

'at least i have work tomorrow.' she thinks with a sigh as she decides to go to bed early.