#of course i will never publish them anywhere
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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY
just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.
(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)
i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.
the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.
i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.
PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE
a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)
ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.
months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’
turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes
at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)
as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.
fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.
when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM
SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:
CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:
well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.
PART TWO: RESCINDED
a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask
right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.
of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered
there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA
first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.
second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.
in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.
TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.
i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.
but here we are.
PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?
this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:
when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.
it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?
i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not
my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.
at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense
PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES
it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say
BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?
is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.
if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.
and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?
(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)
i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.
you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.
if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.
so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.
THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.
as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING
AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.
any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?
any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?
let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.
when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.
if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?
or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.
PART FIVE: GENDERED
this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.
if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned
PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY
there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?
i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'
putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.
i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY
another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions
PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL
i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.
i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)
which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.
if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK
and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME
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KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck
UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:
true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo
to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love
please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it
MOST RECENT UPDATE:
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In Season
alastor x doe! femreader
no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx
Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED
Word count: 5K
You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.
But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.
Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.
Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.
It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.
Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.
~
Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.
There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.
Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.
You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.
Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.
Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.
Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.
The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.
You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.
No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”
Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.
You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.
Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.
“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”
After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.
“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.
Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.
The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.
It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.
“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”
Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.
You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.
You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.
You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.
As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.
Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.
The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.
You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.
Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.
You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”
You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.
“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.
He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.
One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.
You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.
He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.
He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.
“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.
He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”
Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.
Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.
Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.
His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.
You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.
Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.
“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”
Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.
You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.
He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.
You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.
Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.
So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.
“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.
With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.
You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.
Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.
Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.
Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.
Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.
Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.
Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.
One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.
You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.
Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.
Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.
You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.
Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.
And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.
Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.
Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.
“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.
Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel oneshots#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader smut#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you
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the scorpion doesn’t care who it stings
I posted this on my Facebook four days ago, and it seems to have taken on a life of its own for a minute.
I thought I’d repost it, here:
I can not fathom the emptiness, the insecurity, the insatiable need for attention and validation, the staggering arrogance, the malevolence and total void of human experience that is Elon Musk.
He's the richest man on the planet. You can't go anywhere or do anything without interacting with something he's part of in some way. There are literal millions of people who uncritically worship him, in spite of overwhelming evidence that he's a douchebag. Some number of them will come after me, as they come after anyone who points at their naked emperor. They'll spend entire days going after me and people like me, slavishly serving a man who does not even know they exist. They are his army of fools, uncritically serving his every whim. And it still isn't enough.
He can have any material thing he wants, and he will *never* be happy or satisfied. He has no real friends. Every single person around him is either a viper, a parasite, or both.
So what does he do? He bullies and threatens and harasses and trolls and behaves like the weak, scared, insecure child he has always been. That's a tragedy for him, but it's dangerous for us. He doesn't care what he destroys or who he hurts as he chases this existential thing he cannot ever have.
You know the saying "hurt people hurt people"? He's a hurt person who is hurting our society, making people I care about less safe. The consequences of this one man's midlife crisis are global, and that terrifies me.
In a comment, about an hour later, I added:
You know what's really interesting is the tiny number of people who are attacking and harassing me are either typical right wing idiots who all spew the same garbage from behind their wraparound sunglasses, or these weird nerds who are DESPERATE to justify how toxic and cruel and destructive Elon Musk is. Like, nerds, listen to Old Man Wheaton, please.
Don't hitch your wagon to Elon Musk. There are countless people who are amazing and genuinely good, who do all the things we wish we could do. Stop defending this piece of shit who would push you into a volcano without even learning your name, if it would save him half a second on his way to his next shitpost on $8Chan (formerly known as Twitter).He doesn't stand up to anyone. He doesn't stand up FOR anyone. He is not your champion. He's angry and chaotic and destructive, and you have to understand that the scorpion doesn't care who it stings.
Finally, I want to add two things: 1) It’s interesting to me that a lot of the people who came to my post to be dicks used a lot of MAGA language. It reminds me of this thing my friend says about concerts: the audience looks like the band. Of course there’s substantial overlap between the angry, hateful, terrified, cowards who support Trump and the same who Stan Elon Musk, and it’s real interesting to see it in action.
2) I haven’t used Twitter for years. I quit before it was popular (lol) because it was better for my mental health. I logged in once when my book was published, and I deleted all my tweets when he announced he was buying Twitter. When he took over and immediately amplified a conspiracy theorist, I made my account private. In a perfect world, I would delete my account entirely. But I have to keep it for reasons I hope I don’t have to explain. After I posted this on Facebook, it made its way around Twitter (still is, four days later, which is ... a thing that is happening) and when people went to look at my account, they saw that it was closed. As much of a fucking manbaby Elon Musk clearly is, he didn’t do anything to my account. In fact, the only reason he even knows I exist (if he does) is through a vanity search of his name. I locked my account on my own, and so should you.
I am only on:
Tumblr
Facebook (itswilwheaton)
Instagram (itswilwheaton)
and my blog that I’ve been neglecting for too long at wilwheaton.net.
I’ve had a Reddit account since 2006, predating user-created subs! I’m u/wil there.
Okay that’s all. Thanks for listening. Please choose to be kind.
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A Note for New Writers
When I started this blog, one of my goals was to compile advice that I hadn’t really seen online anywhere. Stuff a little bit beyond the foundations I was already very familiar with. I took university courses and different approaches to writing combined with my own experience and lessons from the mentors and teachers around me, and began to write it all down to share with you.
The idea was never that you would start writing your first character with Character is Plot say. However, I noticed there are a lot of new, beginner, or learning writers on here, and there’s a great value in really nailing the foundations, so here marks the start of a short series of foundational advice for you new writers (or for writers who have been around the block and may need a refresher. I know I do!)
I see a lot of new writers in the tags looking down on yourselves or your ability. Stuff like, ‘why can’t I seem to do this’ or ‘if only I could actually follow this advice’. My posts were never meant to make you feel like you aren’t good enough. It was written with over a decade of experience behind it. It takes time to build those instincts in knowing what to do. Unfortunately you can’t just build writing skill by reading and collecting articles—they can be a guide, but they aren’t meant to instantly come naturally to you “if only you were a good writer.”
No one can automatically learn how to write just from reading some advice because writing skill isn’t about the knowing, it’s about the practicing.
And it takes a hell of a lot of practice.
Writing is mostly intuition—we practice certain skills to get them to a place where we can just do them without really thinking about it. It’s kind of like when you were learning to type, and you had to constantly remind yourself to put periods at the ends of your sentences. Then, over time and a million reminders, you started to just do it on instinct without really thinking about it.
It’s muscle memory, it’s trying again and again, it’s a lot of struggling and tears and feedback and more tears and a million and one false starts and unfinished drafts and finished drafts that are really bad and lost contests and rejections. I have been through it all. I’m still going through it all. Only recently have I been published—it took me over a decade of practice to get there. Oh, and in the same month one of my pieces was published, another was rejected.
That’s how it goes. It’s not some switch that will one day flick where you’re ‘good enough’. And the timeline isn’t so set. While I was working on building up skill, I was also working on building up confidence. In the right publications, with enough confidence, I probably could’ve been published years ago. In the right place, and if you’re brave enough to submit, you probably could too.
It’s about who sees it, very rarely does it really depend on how ‘good’ it is (and you can tell from all the published work that can’t possibly be better than your unpublished work, right?)
TL;DR, writing isn’t about the knowing, it’s about time, patience, and practice. If you’re reading advice and don’t feel good enough to execute on it, just take a little bit more time and get a hundred thousand more words under your belt. One day, it will just become intuition.
You will get there.
#writing#creative writing#writers#screenwriting#writing community#writing inspiration#filmmaking#books#film#writing advice#new writers#advice for new writers#a note for new writers#beginner writer
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A Moment | Mick Schumacher x Reader
summary: what’s going on in Mick’s mind and you meet a little of his world.
author’s note: i found this written in a old notebook and decided to rewrite. there’s no beginning or end, it’s truly just a piece of moment between you too. english isn’t my first language, so please be nice!
warnings: none
Mick Schumacher was something.
He had that smile that could sweep you off your feet. His voice was soft and he loved to show how much he loves you whenever he can. He was a private person, always leaving more questions than answers to the curious ones.
He was your boyfriend. And he could easily be the love of your life.
“Are you coming today?” He asked you, his voice muffled by the shirt he was putting on.
“You want me to?” You raised your voice for him to hear you from the bathroom.
Mick doesn't often invite you to the races. In fact, he doesn’t often invite you to anything that requires any sort of public or social gathering that goes beyond your families. At first, right at the beginning of the relationship, your friends were skeptical of it, trying to open your eyes on how weird it was that your boyfriend never seemed interested in taking you anywhere people could see that he had a girlfriend.
You never gave much thought to it. You trust Mick. You had already noticed how uncomfortable he can get around too many people, or how he looked annoyed with some questions from the journalists or even fans.
“Of course” he made his way towards you, hugging your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. Ocean blue eyes meeting yours through the mirror.
You tried, but the excitement smile appeared on your face when you saw he truly meant it, “Give me five minutes”
He smiled at your reaction, spinning you to face him. His hands ran through your hair.
“Don’t worry, we have more than five minutes” he gave you forehead a quick kiss.
“Wait, what am I gonna wear?”
“Anything you want, ich liebe dich so wie du bist. You can wear pajamas and would still look beautiful”
Mick smiled and left you alone to get ready. He lied down on bed, following each one of your movements. He found amusing how you tried to do everything at once, mumbling to yourself a full conversation.
He loved these little things about you.
Sometimes, Mick could be found wondering if he was enough for you. When he mentioned this insecurity to his friends, they said he was going crazy, you’re Mick Schumacher, how could you not be enough? they said as if it was clear. As if he, being who he was, meant something.
Then, when alone, trapped inside of his mind (which he knows is always a dangerous thing), he can’t help to think that’s the problem of it all. That if he had a different last name, a different story, things would be easier.
He knows how it’s like to be harassed by the media, treated like a machine or a piece of meat on display for the vultures to eat. Mick grew up like that, having to learn how to talk, walk and act. All the eyes were on him and his family, even before his father’s accident.
Mick wondered if he was selfish by pulling you into his mess. Everyone on his life faced all the bad things a public person, or being related to one, can face: cars chasing them, people camping in front of their house trying to find something to publish about, to create rumors, get information on his private life, on his dad.
Just the thought of something occurring to you was enough to send a shiver down his spine.
“Mick?” you snapped your fingers in front of his face, sitting beside him and caressing his leg. “You’re ok?”
“Just thinking”
“A penny for your thoughts?”
“Not that important” he pulled you to a tight hug.
“You think I look good?”
“I think you look like the bane of my existence and object of my desires” he dramatized, winning a genuine laugh.
“I should never have watched Bridgerton with you” you shook your head and got up, adjusting your outfit. “Now let’s go, big boy! Your team has a race to win!”
“Yes, ma’am!” he pretended to salute you.
The paddock was… energetic, to say at least. You knew that there were gonna be hundreds of people but you never actually managed to get a hold of how many. Part of you were glad Mick hadn't left your side and always kept touching you somewhere, making his presence known. When he went to give some interviews, he had you at his eyesight.
Questions about you popped up now and there, the more respectful ones didn’t ask anything personal and only said they were happy for us. Mick answered everything like he was taught to: answer without exactly answering. But anyone could see the happiness and passion on his face.
Mick introduced you to everyone and you thought how funny and sweet it was that the older ones acted more protectively, like older brothers. And when you got to the Mereces garage, Lewis stole you faster than Mick could notice. He and George were side by side, showing everything to you while your boyfriend took the opportunity to discuss something with the mechanics.
“And Toto and Susie are like his race week mom and dad, when Corinna isn’t here. Gina becomes a little sister too” George explained. You were loving every second of it. For the first time in months, you were completely part of Mick’s world.
“Mick can be very private, we didn’t actually think he would bring you” Lewis admitted, closing half of his jumpsuit and leaving it hanging on his waist.
“I was surprised too, believe me” You turned around to see Mick, unintentionally mimicking his serious frown face. You smiled. God, you truly loved him.
George and Lewis shared a known and amused glance.
A few weeks prior, they found out Mick was in a serious relationship and annoyed the younger one until he opened his mouth and told them everything. Of course George shared it with Carmen. Ocon also started to pick on him on why he hadn't told them anything. And Mick was honest in his answer: he was afraid. It was understandable, everyone has been in that position, sharing the same fears - and they knew it could be trickier to Mick due to his personal reasons.
“He wants to protect you” George smiled “That’s why he doesn’t show you off”
“That and because he’s afraid you’ll notice he’s not that big of a deal” Lewis said playfully and louder for Mick to hear.
“Yeah, I figured” you shrugged. “Not noticing he’s not a big deal, but the protection thing. He worries too much sometimes”
The other two drivers adjusted their posture when noticing their reserve driver was approaching them.
“So… Do you have any siblings or cousins who are as beautiful and nice as you for this guy?” George pointed towards Lewis, who let out a loud and surprised gasp.
“None that are single, sorry Lewis” you laughed, feeling Mick’s arm around your shoulder. You hugged his waist, pulling him closer to your side.
“I’m not a jealous person, so everything should be fine”
“Oh God, shut up” George rolled his eyes and said his goodbyes. Lewis did the same, going to get properly ready.
You could still hear the two discussing something.
“You have a great family here” you comment, looking up to your boyfriend.
“And now you are part of it, so it got a thousand times better” he kissed you.
“You know that I love you, right?”
“But?”
“But now I see how everyone falls for Lewis, like… Wow” you laughed and so did he, remembering a conversation you two had a few nights ago, about how Lewis was the most beautiful driver on the grid “I mean, I knew he was pretty but in person? He’s literally a god!”
“Do I need to be worried or something?” He was facing you now. You tried not to laugh at his attempt to pretend to be angry.
“I mean… do you look hot as he does with the jumpsuit hanging?”
“Wait for tonight and I'll show you, alright?” he whispered in your ear, hugging you closer.
“I think I’m gonna prefer you without it” you whispered back, biting his ear lobe quickly so no one could see it.
“Please, respect the elders!” Toto’s thick accent made you jump in surprise.
“And the single ones!” The social media added.
Mick Schumacher was more than something: he was everything. Your everything.
#mick schumacher#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#mick schumacher x you#f1 driver x reader#f1 driver x you#any driver x reader#artsy writes
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I was wondering if you had like a basic layout of the space? Area?? Party zone???
I would very much like to know how much void we're working with here.
Sidenote, you're doing a good job, absolutely lovely.
(Extra side note because I like to put all my thoughts in one area. Can you give someone a Lil treat (some cheese, a pie, half the empire state building ect) error, edge and swap are my favorites but you can give treats to whoever you want :3
I don’t have an exact layout…or anything solidified, really. But it probably looks something like this, though the walls are…debatable. I don’t wanna think about how walls would work in there…
Since it’s the void, it probably looks more like this.
There’s a main area, but you can just keep walking. Forever.
Entrances and doorways can technically appear anywhere, but for the party’s sake they mostly appear in the top area.
The party takes place in a decent amount of space though, definitely more spacious than it looks in the diagram. I’d like to note that there’s at least enough space to be able to lose sight of people and have private conversations away from the crowd.
Whatever’s happening on the right side is just random. I can imagine some walls, but I also can’t. It’s weird. There’s some walls and rooms somewhere, I guess.
I’m open to your interpretations! There is no need to follow this, it’s just my personal imagination. You can add and take away whatever you want. Of course, I’ve included some key furniture, so just keep them in mind. There will never be an official published layout.
Have fun!
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Caught
Synopsis: Jake gets caught in an awkward situation but maybe it’s not the worst thing being caught
Warnings: sub!Jake, dom!reader, masturbation, best friends to lovers, unprotected sex, blow job, cum eating, riding, mention of a threat made toward Jake reader doesn’t have a gag reflex, use of the nickname baby (lemme know if there’s anything I missed)
Word count: 1,280 (yet I can never meet the word count on my essays😭)
AN: this is my first smut that I’m actually publishing and it may or may not be inspired by the photo above and it may or may not be a little self indulgent
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You had a crush on your best friend Jake ever since he hit puberty and boy did it do him good. Of course you loved him before he became physically appealing, but you had always pushed the thought down and pretended the crush simply didn’t exist. As time went on you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore and just admitted that you were in love with the man. Now you were hot too, when you hit puberty, Jake took notice to how you became a woman. Noticed how you grew into all your features in the best way possible and it became very hard not to develop a crush on you and fantasize what it would be like to be with you, it became sexual for him last year when you started wearing clothes that hugged your figure in such a delicious way. Hence why he’s currently fucking his fist at the mere thought of those black velvet bell bottoms that you wore to work when he saw you earlier this morning and how they accentuate your hips. He’s been edging himself for an hour, so lost in the pleasure that he didn’t even hear the front door open and didn’t hear your sweet voice calling his name. You had gotten off early and dropped by your favorite boys house. When you opened the front door, you didn’t see him anywhere downstairs but then you heard a slight whimper, followed by your name. Worried about your friend you went upstairs only assuming he was asleep and was having a bad dream, which you would definitely tease him about later, but when you opened the door you were met with the image of your best friend sprawled on his bed, pumping his cock and panting your name. You couldn’t help but be a little turned on at the image in front of you, wanting to take over and torture him a little. Your eyes lit up at the idea that popped into your head
“Jake~” you said in a sing song voice watching the boy jump and cover himself at lightning speed
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked his heart beating out of his chest but all you could think about was how fucked out he looked
“Do you do this often?” You said looking straight in his eyes
“Wha-“ he said before you cut him off
“Do you always think about me when you touch yourself, hmm?” You questioned but only greeted with a look of guilt on his face
“Answer me, Jake” you asserted “use your words”
“Yes” he answered looking fairly embarrassed before you crawled towards him and straddled his lap
“Me too” you whispered in his ear looking back at his face to see a look of pure shock. Jake looking in your eyes to find them dripping in lust and finally you closed the gap between you and captured his lips in a kiss of pure need and hunger. Tongues fighting for dominance, which ended in you winning that battle, breaking the kiss with only a string of saliva connecting you. Taking in his swollen pink lips before moving down to his neck, biting and sucking until he let out a whimper letting you know you found his spot continuing to suck at that spot until it became bruised. You then got off his lap to pull the covers off of him, his dick slapping against his stomach still very hard from playing with himself for an hour and still not cumming. His tip was red and angry, precum oozing out and dripping along his length. You wrapped your hands around his throbbing member and are immediately met with a groan from Jake before laying on your stomach between his thighs to suck his dick. You kissed his tan thighs causing him to squirm before you got to where he really needed you. You licked a stripe up the underside of his cock before giving some kitten licks to his tip
“Please, no teasing” he cried
“Ok” you said before taking his whole length in your mouth bobbing your head up and down while the boy in front of you becomes a complete moaning mess, scratching at your back under your work shirt to try to stabilize himself from the earth shattering head he is receiving right now.
“Shit, I’m cumming” he moaned out which only made you go harder, you even started fondling his balls and just like that he was shooting thick ropes of cum into your mouth, rolling his hips into your mouth to ride out his high before you released him out of your mouth with a pop, noticing he was still hard.
“Babe look you’re still hard as a rock” you said getting up and taking your clothes off and kissing his lips while you got back on his lap. He could still taste himself in your mouth and his mind was so foggy he didn’t even realize you lined him up with your entrance. Slowly sinking onto his member making him break the kiss and throw his head back with a groan.
“Mm you fill me up so good” you praised him while bouncing on his lap his finger nails digging into your hip as he progressively gets more vocal, his sounds mixing with your own
“Y/N, I can’t hold it much longer” he sobbed out, tears forming in his eyes with how good he felt.
“Just a little bit longer, ok baby?” You panted out soon feeling that familiar knot in your stomach
“Cum with me, Jake” you said and as soon as you finished that sentence you could feel him twitch inside of you and painting your walls white, triggering your own orgasm rolling your hips to ride both of your highs out. Your forehead resting against his, both of you bursting into a fit of giggles.
“I guess we can skip the awkward love confession now” you said to him
“Wait what?” He exclaimed “you actually like me”
“Well, yeah ever since you had little gap teeth” you said watching his eyes light up and smile the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, immediately kissing your lips, this kiss more gentle than the ones you just shared.
“I’ll be right back, I just gotta clean myself up” you said almost forgetting he was still inside you. You got up and scurried to the bathroom after you found your underwear and grabbed one of jakes shirts and got yourself cleaned up. When you got out of the bathroom you saw Jake in sweatpants, immediately jumping into bed with him, he let out a slight giggle at your eagerness to cuddle with him after the way you fucked him. You laid right next to each other, his face in the crook of your neck and you playing with his hair.
“Jake” you said making him take his face out of your neck
“Yeah?” He questioned
“When did you start liking me?” You asked him curiously, considering you had no idea he reciprocated your feelings
“When you threw a book at that boy for threatening to shoot me in 8th grade” he said with no hesitation “I don’t know something about the way you handled that had me down bad” he said smiling at you
“So what I’m hearing is, you like that I’m mean?” You said smiling at him as well
“Love it actually” he said causing you to roll your eyes
“Go to sleep loser” you said
“Yes, ma’am” he said taking his place back in the crook of your neck and soon you were both asleep, feeling giddy about how this all transpired cause he got caught.
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bring him home | chapter three (remastered)
Summary: It's been a year since the snap and Tony has only just found out.
Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Captain America: Civil War & Endgame? Grief. Mentions of Murder, Death, and Sex.
Word Count: 2049
Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: Here is the edited and extended version of Chapter Three. I am still incredibly sorry for the length of time it has taken me to release any more of this story. From now on, I hope to have a new chapter out every Friday.
Tags: @alastorsdarlingdoe | @whiminiferous | @armystay89 | @bucky-just-needs-love | @esposadomd | @motylekrozi
I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED TO ANY THIRD-PARTY SITE OR APP. IF ANYONE SEES MY WORK ANYWHERE BUT HERE, IT HAS BEEN REPOSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.
One Year.
The second most difficult day of your life. The first anniversary of the snap. Looking up, you read his name over again. ‘James Buchanan Barnes’. You made your way down to Brooklyn late afternoon, you had been to see the ‘Wall of the Vanished’ that has now been built in every city & county to memorialize the Vanished. Earlier that morning, you made your way to Manhattan and Queens to visit both Vision’s and Peter’s names.
~
The decision of the order had already been made for you before you left the compound. You saw Peter almost every morning before he vanished, whether it be a quick FaceTime before he left for school to ‘double-check’ his homework or get an update for any missions he might be assigned to. He never missed a day. Now, you weren’t going to either. 7:30 AM on the dot, you found his name. Right next to his Aunt May’s.
“Hey Kid,” Whispering as you looked around to see if anyone noticed you, literally talking to a wall. It wasn’t busy at this time, only a few friends and family members of the vanished were wandering around the names. Not a single one noticed you were there. “Can you believe it’s been a whole year since you went to space?” Smiling, you imagined how excited he would have felt once it hit him that he was actually in space. “Would have been cool if you came back though,” you began tracing over his name, memorizing the engraving. “I shouldn’t have listened. I should have been up there with you. If I had been,” Pausing to take a breath, you start to shake your head.
Stop. You think to yourself. Remembering you can’t change the past, no amount of wishful thinking or what ifs will bring them back. Yet, ever since your dad told you about how close they were to getting the gauntlet off Thanos, you haven’t helped but wonder. Maybe with an extra pair of hands, they would have got it off.
~
Before you knew it, the public was flooding around the walls. It was almost midday. Still, two counties to go. You did the same when you found ‘The Vision’ engraved into the stone in Manhattan, only this time, his name wasn’t among ‘The Vanished’. His name was registered as a ‘Fallen Hero’. Tracing his name, just like you had with Peter’s, you told him you missed and loved him. Wished he was still here. Regretted wasting time, over a silly government paper instead of standing strong as siblings, while he was here. And, of course, beat yourself up for still being here instead of him.
“You would’ve helped a lot more people than I ever can,” You spoke once again to a literal slab of stone. “I should have stayed in that room with you, I should never have stayed on the field. You needed me and I wasn’t there. Some big sister, huh?”
Stopping yourself again, you reminded yourself of a time when you’d hear his voice in the earpiece of your first-ever suit. Telling you specs, reminding you to speak nicer to yourself when you weren’t getting it first try. Back when he was known as Jarvis and wasn’t entirely Vision.
You stood in silence for the remainder of your time in Manhattan. Nothing you had to say wasn’t something Vis didn’t already know. Just being there, was enough and you hoped that somehow he knew.
~
You couldn’t speak the whole time you stood staring at his name. There was no ‘what ifs’ or tracing his name. Anger, denial. You could feel yourself taking steps back in your grief process. No, if you stayed or if you went. You knew when it came to Bucky, there was no other option. No other way to change the story. If you had changed anything with Peter or Vision, Bucky would still be here. But you didn’t.
It was starting to get dark and more people were beginning to leave. For the first time that day, you allowed yourself to cry. No scenario you thought of would have allowed you to both fight by his side and allow him to survive. All you had was regret, regret for keeping him a secret. Regret for not visiting Wakanda as much as you should have. Regret not telling him more often how much love you had for him.
Surrounded by Goats.
“How did Tony take it? You know finding out about us being, well, us?” He questioned as he looked out to the Wakandian water, your head resting on his lap while you read. Sighing, you put your book on the picnic blanket and rested on your knees. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair back behind your ear as you looked away from his face and toward where once hung his mechanical arm.
“He doesn’t know.” Playing with a loose thread on his sling as you whispered the confession to him. Desperately trying to look up at his face, fear of his disapproval and hurt for keeping him a secret.
“What? Wait, you haven’t told him?” Bucky cupped your face with his hand, moving you to look at him. “Where does he think you are?” Realising it was panic in his voice and not hurt or upset, you move your hands around, gesturing towards Wakanda. “Why does he think you’re here?” He then rose to his feet, you rushed to join him.
“I told him I’ve been coming here to meet up with Shuri,” You smiled remembering how grateful you were to T’Challa for opening Wakanda to the world, not only helping provide resources to other countries but also for giving you an excuse to tell your dad. “We’ve been working on a tech thing,” you move your hand over Bucky’s armless shoulder. “Which, isn’t a lie.” His hand found its way to your lower back, pulling you closer to him as you fidgeted once again with the loose thread on his sling. Dropping his head, his forehead rested against yours. Your breathing was now in sync.
“You just left out the part about sleeping in a hut, surrounded by goats, with an armless 100-year-old man?” He whispered the secret so quietly, you were barely able to hear him yourself. Smiling, you nodded, your noses brushing against each other as you did.
“I left out the part about sleeping in a hut, surrounded by goats, with the man I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with.” Your whisper was just as quiet as his, so quiet it took you both a second to realize what you said. It was the first time, neither of you had said that four-letter word to each other. Once you had a second to think, you opened your mouth to speak. You wanted to take it back, fear crept in of him not saying it back to you or worse. Before you could do one single thing, his lips were pressed against yours. His hand had moved from your lower back to your cheek, rubbing his thumb against it as he tried to pull your mouth closer.
“I have been alive for 100 years, I have seen every type of love this world has to offer. But Doll, there’s nothing in this universe that could compare to the love I feel for you.”
It Still Wants Him.
“I lost a lot of loved ones,” you sighed as you looked around the small circle of group members attending today. “I lost a lot of friends, co-workers, and my brothers. I thought I had lost my dad at first, and I also lost the love of my life.” You hadn’t realised your dad was standing in the shadows of the entrance. His head was down as he listened to his child heartbroken over loss. The one life experience he couldn’t protect you from or heal. He wanted to see how your idea was working out, he wanted to see how you were helping people while you have not yet been helped.
He was shocked to hear you say “love of your life.” He racked his brain on who you could be talking about, as far as he was aware, you didn’t care about romantic relationships. The others in the group knew who you were, and knew you lost friends, family, co-workers, and brothers. Yet, they too were just as confused as your dad had been to learn this information. They had never seen you in any tabloids concerning romance. Surprisingly considering who raised you.
They were asking all the same questions your dad was thinking. “What was their name?” “When did you know they had disappeared?”
“His name was James,” No, your dad thought, it can’t be. “Everyone knew him as Bucky, but, he liked it when I called him James.” He stared at you through the shadows, debating if he should storm in and demand to know the truth. He didn’t need to, you carried on speaking. Freely, opening up about it all, all he could do was listen. “And, I watched him disappear after fighting Thanos.”
“I have never met anyone like him in my life. So calm and patient. It felt like a connection the second our eyes met for the first time. He was funny, charming, and just all-around a nice guy. He had a lot of trauma but he worked hard to grow from it. He meant more to me than anyone could imagine.” You sighed, rubbing your left arm subconsciously. “There were many tough times at the beginning, especially when you consider how we met and the complexity of us just knowing each other. But, I couldn’t imagine anyone else filling the space in my life like he did. I wished for him to be the man I grew old with, built a home with, possibly had children with.” You wiped a tear that started falling with your shelve. This was when you noticed your dad, you made direct eye contact with him and you had never felt so small under his gaze. Disappointment. That’s what you were. “Anyway,” you choked as you carried on, not dropping his gaze. “I knew us being together would have hurt so many people. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do. But, the heart wants what it wants and my heart wanted him.” This was when you dropped his gaze and looked around at the fellow group members. “It still wants him.”
~
After the last member had left the sports hall of Midtown, you followed them into the school's parking lot. You lifted your head to notice your dad leaning against your car with his hood up. With a deep breath, you walked towards him.
“I don’t want to hear it.” You spat before he could open his mouth, you tried to open your car door but he slammed his hand against it. “Dad, please, I don’t want to hear it.”
“You’re sleeping with a murderer.” It was as if he hissed at you with anger, spat like venom as he looked down at you.
“I’m a murderer!” Yelling back at him your breathing began to quicken. “And in case you forgot what happened a year ago, I’m not sleeping with him anymore.”
“Y/N he killed-“
“I understand you’re still hurting, Dad. I would be too if it was you and Pepper.” He saw the pain you still carried from only ever hearing stories about them, never getting to meet them yourself, in your eyes. There was also the love you had for a man you grew to know as himself and not the killer. “But, it wasn’t him. Surely, with that genius mind, you’d be able to comprehend that.” His head dropped with a sigh. “He loved me, he was kind to me, he made me happy. Isn’t that enough for you as my dad? Not as an avenger or a son? Just, my dad?”
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Looking back up, reaching his hand out to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. “You to be happy.”
“I miss him, Dad, I miss him so much.”
He pulled you into his arms placing a hand on your head, allowing you to sob into his chest.
“I know, Kid, I know.”
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#catws#dad!tony stark x daughter!reader#falcon and the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky x female reader#tony stark x reader#tony stark#the avengers x reader#the avengers#bucky fic#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes
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Okay! Since people are asking, here's some of my writing. I'm not used to sharing because on Twitter no one really cared... 🥺 Please let me know if you're interested in learning more about this book or being added to a tag list for my stuff! I love questions about my stuff too... This is new adult fantasy even though publishing says new adult isn't real.
(please excuse my MC's attitude because she is depressed! We've all been there when we released a plague of skeletons.)
The Bone Queen
Chapter 1
When I fell in love with Aubrey, I never thought I'd dream of killing him one day. Why would I? He was already dead.
Now, two years after he’d won my heart with lies, we stood alone in my dimly lit parlor, between its lion-footed couches all in pine green and gold and blood red, Queen Idony’s colors. The golden tapestries that thickly coated the walls depicted Bandrum Palace as seen from the streets of Asteraxe: a many-floored edifice that sprawled across the top of a hill, half hidden behind a mighty wall.
The enormous skirts of my dress weighed me down like I was dragging my own casket around. The bodice hugged my ribs and the corset I didn't need, embellished with lace and embroidered birds, and the sleeves poofed around my skinny arms. It left my scrawny shoulders bare, and even with the fire that crackled in my fireplace, the winter air inside the palace chilled me.
The dress was ivory. The same ivory as my fiancé’s bones.
He clenched my hand, his icy finger bones pinching my skin, and his touch revolted me. But I didn't draw away. I'd learned by now that there was no escape. What point was there in trying? Besides, I deserved this unhappiness. I'd brought it upon myself. Upon the entire kingdom of Sweelough.
When I'd met Aubrey, he'd been nothing but a handsome ghost on Lake Langlyn’s shores. But since I'd freed him—freed them all—he’d become something more. Not alive, even Queen Idony couldn't do that, but she'd given him back his skeleton with which to wield swords and write notes and touch my vulnerable skin. His ghost hadn't gone anywhere; it wrapped around his skeleton like transparent flesh around bones. Now, when I looked into his face, I saw both sharp gray eyes and yawning sockets, both a full, cleanshaven mouth and a skull’s grinning teeth. And the clothes his ghost wore echoed the very real doublet and hose he'd pulled over his bones. Green and red and gold, of course. He honored the queen in everything he did.
He bent close to me, brushing the top of my fashionable tower of hair with his jawbone. He stank of potpourri and dust. “Tell me you love me, Elise.”
I said nothing, just breathed and thought about hitting his bones over and over again with a hammer. In my mind, he crumbled into bits, nothing but ashes in a grave. Of course, it was a fantasy; no one could kill someone who was already dead. I knew because so many people had died trying. Because I had hit him with an axe down on the shore of Lake Langlyn, and it had only torn his clothes.
He said again, “We are to marry in a month. Tell me you love me. Smile at me and say my name, the way you used to.”
“Aubrey,” I said. I didn't love him, but what good would it do to tell him again, when he would only yell at me? It was pointless. Everything was pointless.
His ghostly eyes narrowed, and he crushed my hands in his. “Smile, Elise. Thank me for taking you to wife. For when we met, you were nothing but a serf too stupid to write her own name. Now look at you. Aren't you grateful?”
Tears stung my eyes. When I'd met him, at sixteen, I'd been happy. I'd had parents and four brothers who loved me, and it hadn't mattered that none of us knew how to read or write. What did farmers need letters for? Now, two years later, life was meaningless, and it didn't matter that the tutors he'd forced on me had taught me to scribble my name and read a handful of poems.
Aubrey sighed and leaned down to kiss the back of my hand. For a horrifying second, his lips passed through me, and his teeth brushed my skin. “I'm sorry, Elise. I know I push you too hard. You'll be a good wife. Docile and obedient. Quiet. A good mother to my children.”
If I was docile and quiet, it was only because I'd given up. But his last sentence made me whip my head up. “Children? What do you mean, children?”
He smiled up at me, his spectral mouth matching the grinning teeth of his skull. “Why, Elise, didn't you think I would want a heir?”
“Why would you?” I cried. “Lady Kinburg tells everyone how she had no choice but to hang her descendents when she came back, because they wouldn't return her lands. The dead don't want heirs. You're planning to rule forever. Aren't you?”
“Of course,” my fiancé agreed, straightening up. “But I would still want children. Offspring who will love and admire me, just as you do.”
Unless they inherited my ability to see and hear ghosts, all the children would see was a skeleton that couldn't even talk to them. They wouldn't admire him. They'd fear him, just like I did. Somehow, that didn't matter, not when there was a bigger issue. “Aubrey, you're dead. You can't sire children. It's impossible. Are you planning to have some living man bed me?”
He scoffed, reaching up to seize my chin. “I'll kill any man who lays a finger on you. You're mine. Forever.”
I ripped my face out of his grip. “If we adopt children, they won't be able to see you.” No other living person in Asteraxe, the capital of Sweelough, saw and heard the dead like I did. They just saw skeletons, awful and deadly. It was my gift and my curse to see more. A curse that had doomed me and all of Sweelough.
He let me retreat to sit upon one of the couches. “But children born of your body will, my love. And it's not impossible. Do you have so little faith in the queen? In one month, on the day of our wedding, she will cast spells upon me to give me the ability to lie with you. With her magic, she'll quicken my seed in your belly. And nine months later, you'll bear me a perfect son.”
Aubrey was going to have sex with me. He was going to force me to bear his child. My thoughts ran in terrified, anguished circles. My limbs grew weak, and I sank into my couch. I wanted to vomit all over his pointed shoes. If I could've, I'd have bolted out into the halls of the palace and straight out the front doors. Running for my life had never sounded more appealing.
But the queen's magic brand wrapped my ankle like a jagged red tattoo, and even now I felt it burning against my skin. She'd promised me, when she enchanted me two years ago, that if I ever tried to escape, it would punish me. And Aubrey had stood beside her, smiling because I could never leave him.
“You look faint, my love,” Aubrey said, stepping up close to me. “Come to dinner tonight. Sit at my side and display your beauty to all the court.”
“I'm not hungry,” I said, and it was true. I was never hungry, and after the horrible news he’d just dropped on me, I might never be hungry again. If I accompanied Aubrey to the Great Hall, where the nobility gathered over feasts of roast beef and fish and fresh fruit, I would only sit uneating in front of plenty, just like all the dead who wanted to pretend that they were still alive. Aubrey couldn't eat, being nothing but bones. I had a stomach and all the equipment needed, but I'd lost my appetite with my family, and now that he’d threatened to impregnate me, it was doubly gone.
He took my hand and kissed it again. “Very well. I will send your maids in to tend to you. But after dinner, I will come fetch you. Queen Idony wishes to speak with you.”
My stomach dropped, and I tore my hand out of his. “What? Why? I haven't done anything wrong.”
He patted my cheek, and his bones were so cold that surely they'd never belonged to a living man. “Fear not, Elise. She doesn't want to punish you. She merely wishes to tell you your new duties in the days ahead.”
“Duties? What duties?” Dread constricted my throat. Duties, whatever they were, would take me away from my rooms and safety. They'd put me in the eyes of the living nobles, and all of them hated me. Not because I was a peasant pretending to be one of them. Because it was my fault they had to bow to a dead queen. I didn't blame them. I hated me too.
Aubrey beamed at me. “Great events are on the horizon. Do you remember that the queen made overtures to our wealthy neighbor to the west?”
Only one county bordered Sweelough to the west. “Ahheleisa. But you said nothing would come of it. That the living were too superstitious to see a gift when the queen offered it.”
He waved a hand. “The living are cretins. But in this case, I was wrong.”
“I’m still alive, Aubrey,” I reminded him. For now. Every other night, I woke from nightmares that the queen had stripped me down to nothing but a ghost and dry old bones.
“Yes, yes. That doesn't matter. We have news now that an ambassador and his party are coming here to Asteraxe. In fact, they are nearly upon us. And so Queen Idony has plans for you. But she’ll tell you the details tonight, I am sure.” He patted my leg through my layers of skirts and petticoats. “Now, promise me you'll eat something.”
“I'll eat something,” I lied. But after he'd left and sent my maids in to check on me, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes and tried to think of nothing. Thoughts kept sneaking in of a dead man's touch and a dead man's children, and I had no peace at all.
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Haven
[Dream of the Endless x Reader]
A/N: I know I posted about something I wanted to write. But I decided to KIV that fic for now. Instead, I got inspired for this. This fic is too long so I separated it. It could be a two-parter, or multi-chap. IDK yet. Supposed to be GN!reader, but do let me know if there’s something overly descriptive.
Summary: You had never truly found a place you belong in. Your only escape were into the stories you watched, read or wrote. Then one day, you found yourself in a library, with a completed book of your unfinished story.
Words: 936
~
All your life, you never truly fit anywhere. Sure, you had a lot of friends growing up. You were able to adapt your personality to meet the expectations of many groups of people and interact with them without issue. It has helped you in school and it has helped you as an adult.
But still, you have never felt truly at home.
The closest you have felt to absolute peace and safety, was when you are engrossed in a story, whether it be from watching the telly, reading a book or writing it out yourself.
It was the way you would escape when the crippling loneliness of your life got too much for you. Some of your family members would tut about and chide you, saying that you had your head in the clouds too much. They did not know it was the only way to keep you sane.
xxxx
You didn't know how you got there, but the library was exquisite. Shelves upon shelves of books as far as your eye could see. There were spiralling staircases going up stories to fit the expansive number of tomes and there were little nooks that housed cubbies and comfy chairs for one to sit and read.
It was quiet and empty and there were birds chirping at the windows. You took a deep, deep breath, letting the smell of paper and leather, of wood and the crackling fire fill you up to the brim.
It felt like home, you thought.
Smiling to yourself, you wandered about, fingers trailing worn out spines while you peruse titles. Some of them were familiar, some were utterly foreign. You were not really focusing on what you were looking for, until a leather-bound book caught your eye.
There was no title, but the authors name gave you halt. You frowned as you flipped the book open and read its contents.
The more you read, the more it did and didn't make sense. You knew these characters, knew this world depicted in the pages. The writing style was so unique, so familiar, it could have only been from your own fingers. But you did not remember writing it so... completely.
"You should not be here."
You jumped almost a foot in the air at the sound of that voice, the book in your hand flying.
The... man that stood before you was... different, you knew instantly. It may be his pallor, white as a sheet of paper, or it might be his wild unruly, raven black hair. But for sure, it was the hypnotic way his irises danced in the warm lighting of the library, like the cosmos filled with billions of galaxies.
Alarm bells began ringing in your head.
"Wh- What do you mean?"
The man, being, stepped forward and you instinctively stepped back. He seemed powerful. And worse, he seemed upset at seeing you.
"How did you get here?"
"I- uhm- I ..." You frowned when your mind came up blank as you try to recall your past. The furthest you remember was being in the library, surrounded by books. You turned to him, panic rising in your chest. "I don’t... I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember?"
Hands on your shoulders felt grounding as your companion tried for your attention. "Be calm," He called your name. How he knew it escaped you. "You are dreaming."
You shrugged him off. "What are you talking about? What is going on here? Why is-" you bent down to pick up the book. Your book. "Why does this book exist? I never wanted to publish it. Hell, I hadn't even finished it."
The man froze when he heard you. "Wait, you've read it? You were able to read that?"
"What? Of course, I could read it! What I want to know was how is it finished? Because I never did."
He looked at you for a long time, staring at you as if he could see into your very soul. And then, he introduced himself.
When he told you his name, you had very well laughed in his face. Until you saw that he was entirely serious. Then, he told you about the library and where exactly it was, where you were.
"Oh, come on now. This has gone too far." You cut him off. "I’m willing to call you Morpheus. Maybe your parents had a thing for Greek mythology or the Matrix or something. But you can't expect me to believe that this place is a Dream plane and I just happened to unknowingly cross through an invisible threshold."
"Then how do you explain your inability to recall how you arrived here?" He challenged. "Or how your book, one that you had not yet finished, nor intend to publish, came to be in my library."
"I- But that's- that's impossible. There is no way that-"
You gasped awake in your bed, the force of your inhale pulling up upright. The room was dark save for the light of your candle warmer. Your room was exactly as you left it before you went to bed, except for the now familiar tall and dark figure in the corner of your room.
"Holy sh-"
You scrambled up onto your bed, in an attempt to put as much distance between you and the Lord of Dreams. As much distance as there was in your small room.
"You're real."
Dream stepped closer, to the edge of your mattress, hands in his pockets. "I am."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "What is going on?"
"That is what I intend to find out.”
~
[Part 2]
#the sandman#the sandman netflix#dream of the endless#morpheus#morpheus x reader#dream of the endless x reader#the sandman imagines#mav's posts
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gavi fluff watching a horror movie <333333
late night confessions - pablo gavi
pairing: pablo gavi x reader
author’s note: sorry this took awhile,but thank you for request! got a little carried away with this one and gave it a little twist. the end is purposefully like that to indicate she fell asleep. i hope you will like it<3
word count: 1,7 k
some people love to consume fear.
it was no secret you were one of them ever since… well ever since you can remember. you would hide in closets to scare your family,and when you would play hide and seek with your friends- it was a real nightmare to find you. nobody really had a clue from where did this love for fear came from.
you craved all kinds of frightening experiences. at the same time, fear is not exactly a positive emotion. trembling while darkness pushes in around us- this is not a feeling we would describe as pleasant. then,what is it about fear that you are so drawn to? most of people go to great lengths to avoid it. what better time to get scared than in the spookiest time of the year?
all of this began on halloween of 2014. haunted theme park opened near your city and, of course, you begged your parents to let you go. they let you go since they thought some of your older friends will be there too. all of you loved to watch american horror story,but to be fair the majority of them watched it because of evan peters. who could blame them? it’s hard to resist a man who looks like he didn’t sleep in thousand years.
looking back on this, some of your friends were confused when you showed them picture of pablo since he doesn’t have any dark circles. other than watching american horror story,you also loved to read stephen king. you upgraded on him after you read everything that r.l. stine published.
horror is designed to make one afraid because it is advantageous to our survival. the main reason all of you wanted to visit this theme park it is because one of scary houses was based from murder house in american horror story. who could resist experiencing that fear first hand? certainly not you. if you only knew how real horrifying that night is gonna get,you would never go anywhere near that cursed place.
one of your friends was nowhere to be seen. none of you wanted to admit it, but you started to panic. luckily, your instincts were telling you something went terribly wrong here because she wasn’t really type to scare anyone. you were looking everywhere and asking people did they see her.
and then it happened.
someone was walking towards her near exit and grabbed her hand. no running,no drama.
and then she tapped you on shoulder. turns out she was waiting on her revenge to scare you. it was a relief she was safe, but you couldn’t see horrors the way you used to before. you stopped watching them completely and for some reason you couldn’t go to sleep without checking is everything locked multiple times.
old habits die hard and to this day you still did this every night,without exception. pablo didn’t see it as anything unusual because he had no clue about the backstory. one night two of you decided to watch something on netflix. both of you are always so indecisive when it comes to choosing a movie,so you decided to use “suprise me” feature. it was safe to say that this wasn’t maybe the best idea. watching the shining on stormy night? not really what you had in mind,but you didn’t wanna say anything because there was certain advantages. shamelessly snuggling to him? perfect. pretending you fell asleep so he can carry you to bed? sounds like you have a plan b.
you couldn’t help but smile when you saw him frowning while he pressed play. he always asked so many questions while watching and it was very annoying to everyone around him,but you didn’t mind it.
“why would they agree to be in the middle of nowhere? someone will kill them,this is so predictable. is that what happens at the end?”
“just watch and you will understand.”
“can i ask you in case i don’t understand?”
“of course. you would ask anyway”,you said jokingly hoping he keeps asking to keep you distracted from the fact you are watching a horror after so many years.
to your suprise,he didn’t ask that many questions as he usually does. is this really that one time he decides to be quiet,you thought to yourself.
luckily for you,his silence didn’t last long.
“what does REDRUM means?”
“it’s murder backwards.”
“wait,from where did that bruise came from? did his dad really hit him? why are we watching this again?”
“it wasn’t his dad his time,but he did break his arm while trying to discipline him. if you are scared we can just turn it off and go to bed.”
“no,i’m not scared but i think you are and this is how you are trying to lure me in.”
you had no intention of turning to plan b,but maybe it was time. even though he said this jokingly,this was your chance to escape.
“i think i’m going to bed,but you are free to continue watching this- i’m not luring you.”
“wait are you angry at me or something? what’s wrong?”
you continued to walk to your room,pretending you didn’t hear him. it felt so wrong because after all,he never ignored you. and who likes to be ignored? you were hoping he is not gonna think too much of it and assume you just didn’t hear him.
you should’ve known him better by now because is so attentive about you. of course he is gonna come to you. that is pablo you fell in love with.
“what’s wrong,did i say something?”
“no,you didn’t- i just wanted to go to sleep.”
“you can’t fool me. i know that look and obviously something happened,but for the life of me i can’t figure out what is it.”
“i promise you,it’s nothing. could you come here and play with my hair?”
“anything for you princesa.”
part of you wanted to finally tell him this and the other part of you didn’t want to disturb this peaceful silence while he was pushing your hair behind ear. you closed your eyes,hoping this is how you are gonna fall asleep.
“aha! i think i know what it is. it’s because you were annoyed with how much i’m talking during the movie. i’m so sorry-“
“you are annoying,but i love every second of it.”
“so it’s not that? then i really don’t know what it is,can you please tell me? you already know i will annoy you until you give up and tell me.”
“in that case,i have to accept defeat. i don’t wanna tell you because it’s a bit embarrassing and honestly,i don’t think i’ve told this to anyone.”
“i won’t pressure if you don’t want to say it but whenever you are ready,i’m here to listen. trust has to be earned and i don’t expect you to tell me everything,but i hope you know you and your secrets are safe with me.”
“of course i trust you,please don’t even think it’s about that at all. you already did more than enough to earn my trust and love. it’s just hard to talk about this,even though it’s always in the back of my mind,somehow i don’t think about it that often as i used to.”
despite popular belief,he can be calm,composed and a good listener. he was all ears and nodded,encouraging you to continue. there is no easy way to say this,other than to rip off the band-aid.
“you were right- i was luring you to go to bed. it’s because i didn’t want to watch horror,since i didn’t watch any horror in years.”
“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. why didn’t you just say you don’t want to watch it?”
“to be fair,you did a decent job of distracting me with questions. i thought i’m over it,but it turns out i’m not really. these movies just remind me of that period when someone almost kidnapped one of my friends.”
“oh… i didn’t expect that. how did that even happen?”
“it happened on halloween when we went to a theme park. mainly because of a haunted house that was like one from american horror story. all of a sudden she was nowhere to be seen and we thought she isn’t type to scare anyone- that was more my style. then i saw someone identical to her near the exit. someone grabbed her hand and walked out with her and grabbed her hand. it looked completely normal. no running,no drama. turns out that wasn’t her,she was just waiting on her turn to scare me.
“i can’t even imagine how scary that must’ve been. luckily it wasn’t her and all of you are okay.”
“yeah,but it made me think how many people get kidnapped and no one suspects a thing. you never know what’s happening around you for sure. and it didn’t help that at that time i was reading and watching horrors.”
“i would never connect you to horrors honestly,it could be because you are a complete opposite- a dream.”
“cliché. but i love it.”
“and i love you.”
“i love you too. now if you wanna play fair,you have to tell me one secret.”
“okay,but you have to promise you won’t laugh.”
“i will try.”
“i used to be terrified of the gremlins and i thought they will come to my room after midnight.”
“that’s reasonable,even i hated them. “
“no way,you are fearless. you are just saying it so we can be afraid together.”
“no,i’m serious! and besides,there is no such thing as being afraid when i’m with you.”
“so you won’t check are doors locked million times anymore?”
“i will try not to,but you know how they say: old habits die hard.”
“now it makes sense why you do that,i didn’t come off as unusual because i didn’t know the backstory.”
“now you know.”
“and now you know there is nothing you should be embarrassed or afraid to tell me. even if you want me to check are there any gremlins under bed. “
“deal.”
“i love when we have these late night talks,but i can see you are on the verge of falling asleep. buenas noches,te amo princesa. “
#pablo gavi#pablo gavi imagine#pablo gavi fluff#pablo gavi x reader#barcelona#football imagines#football one shots
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3 Important things about Traditional Publishing
This post is for people who want to be traditionally published. If you’re down to Indie publish, or are only interested in posting your own fiction online—don’t worry about it!
First things first, traditional (or trad) publishing is when you go through an editor at a publishing house and they publish your book. They also take a hefty percentage of the profits, but handle the editing, cover design, titling, promotion, etc. for you. Sometimes you may also go through a literary agent who will represent you (send your work and advocate for you) to publishing houses.
Indie publishing (independent) is when you do it on your own, also known as self publishing. You have more control, but have to build a team behind you to help you edit, design, format, promote, etc. (or do it all yourself). and it can be difficult to get your book in places like book stores and libraries since they usually only do dealings with publishing houses.
With that out of the way, let’s talk 3 important things I know about trad publishing.
1. Don’t share your work online
If you want to be traditionally published, don’t post any of your work online anywhere. Including little bits and pieces, including excerpts, including characters, including titles. Nothing. Keep it locked down.
This is because many trad publishing contracts will consider you posting your work online as it being “previously published”, and may reject your work for that reason. To be on the safe side, don’t put any of your work online or submit it to other journals/magazines.
2. Be prepared to let go of some of the decision making.
When you go through lit agents and publishing houses, you give up an amount of creative control to get your work published. They just want to make it as good (and marketable) as possible, so trust that they know what they’re talking about.
This means they may choose your title, you may not have any control over the cover image, they might even ask you to get rid of a character or change the ending or any other amount of larger edits. You are allowed to reject some ideas, but choose your battles. Taking this feedback and making these edits is what will get your work published, so if that is your goal, be accommodating, trust that they have so much experience and will make your work better.
3. You should NEVER have to pay them
If you’re paying a traditional publisher to publish your work, you are being scammed. The money works this way:
The reader buys the book for say $20.
To make this simple, let’s say $20 then goes to the publishing house.
They take 50%, so $10 goes to your literary agent (if you have one).
They take another 50% so $5 goes to you.
Never, ever should the money be flowing the opposite direction where you are giving money to these businesses to publish your work. I will say it again, if you are paying these people, you are being scammed.
This is really important, because I knew a girl who was working three jobs to get her work published. They were asking for almost 20K. My heart absolutely breaks for her—she just didn’t know that that’s not how it’s supposed to work.
Whether it’s 20k, $100, or 3 cents. You don’t pay them.
(Of course, if you’re in indie publishing this is a whole different story. In indie, you pay people to do any of the work you don’t want to do. If you need an indie editor, you pay them, if you want an artist to design your cover, you pay them. This rule only applies to trad publishing!)
Anything else important that I missed?
#writing#creative writing#writers#screenwriting#writing community#writing inspiration#filmmaking#books#film#writing advice#traditional publishing#getting trad published#traditional publishing advice#3 important things about traditional publishing
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Hey Mr. Leech! When I was a kid at summer camp, you could earn a special patch for licking a banana slug, which of course I did at the first opportunity. I recall it made my tongue slightly numb/tingly for about 30-45 minutes. My questions are, 1. Do you know what property of the slug caused this sensation? And 2. Is this safe for the slug? I am now working at summer camp and I want to know if I should encourage kids re: slug licking shenanigans. Thanks!!
It actually seems like nobody has bothered to look into it, or if they have, they haven't published it anywhere easy to find! I'd suspect it comes from their diet, though, since they especially live in pine forests and eat a lot of pine needles, bark and even saplings. If that's the case then it's a mix of the many different acids that make pine so intense!
Licking them can't hurt them, but nowadays rat lungworm can be found in some slug and snail populations and can cause meningitis if an infected mollusk or its slime is ingested raw. I've never heard of it found in banana slugs but one guy who ate a normal garden slug on a dare died a few months later.
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first writing that I publish at least a long-ish
WIP: Draft of Death Family going to the realm of death, meeting Kristin and Mamamissa
Trips to visit family must be really interesting for the death family.
I can easily imagine them crossing the barrier between life and death as soon as they leave quesadilla because they want their children to experimente the dominion of the dead.
Yep, Missa owes his boss a lot of reports and Phil is absolutely delighted with the idea of finally seeing his wife again after everything did happend. Chay and Tallulah keep making fun of him about his constantly fluffy wings and the silliest smile on his face, and his cheeks blush however deep down they are really excited too, a little nervous but they definitely want to meet her.
It's halfway there, they are walking along the banks of the River Styx. It won't take long to get there, somewhere, anywhere, where The Goddess is. Dad Philza jokes that flying with the eggs would be faster and easier, because of course his wings had improved considerably in the last few weeks, but in the afterlife his wings were almost revitalized to the surprise of his children. Which was to be expected for an angel of death, surrounded by the dead realm.
Missa jokes that he would leave him behind, of course. Which Phil playfully rejects; is a loyal crow! He would never do that thing of leaving him behind.
He did it in purgatory.
But he didn't do it in prison!
¨No mames Phil, they were going to take us out sooner or later¨ Against the grim reaper's arguments the crow just rolls his eyes and fights back
¨when was the last time you crossed the river of souls, mate?¨
Missa sighs softly, he can't remember the last time he sailed the river. For a long time he has dedicated himself to harvesting souls to help them to make it to the afterlife.
Phil rests his hand on the small of his very platonic husband's back (in the realm of the dead, missa's real form is more likely to come out; he still avoids having a height comparable to that of the cellbit castle, right now? just He's 2 or 3 times Phil's size (he literally can't reach any higher, it's either that or grabbing his pants leg to comfort him) with a soft coo; ¨it's okay dude, don't worry about that¨
Chayanne interrupts the lively (not so much anymore) discussion between his dads before it gets angsty (it's an instinct), signing so quickly with his hands that it is almost difficult to translate what he said.
"Papa Missa can take us OVER the river???"
missa and phil look at each other, in fact that can shorten the path quite a bit, if it works.
This is how much of the way they spend with Tallulah and Chayanne on the shoulders of an even bigger Missa while Philza flies through the skies of said Death´s kingdom, sometimes perching with his children on the shoulders of his husband.
It's all fun and laughter until Tallulah signs a question; "why did Kristin gave me the gift of listening to my siblings". which causes Philza to reverse heis flight and Missa stops completely to see his hija. Chayanne blinks worried about what happened.
¨Tallulah, mi ninha-a, Kristin has no connection to anything on the island… she was blocked from it¨
¨But I know who was not blocked¨ Missa looks at Phil, more serious than he's ever been.
And Phil sighs before looking at his children softly to reassure them. ¨So guys, you wanna know your… erhm, ab-abuela, abuela?¨
#death duo#death family#qsmp missa#qsmp philza#qsmp#qsmp tallulah#qsmp chayanne#mamamissa#<---is that a tag??#now it is one#deathduo
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: ̗̀➛ kaeya as a parent
ft. kaeya, diluc, crepus and jean are briefly mentioned
wc. 0.5k
cw. intentional lowercase ; unedited ; very minor spoilers for the secret summer paradise event ; kinda spoilers for kaeya’s backstory?
an. i fully blame the kaeya and klee content for this brainrot.
disclaimer; this is a restart of a previous blog of the same name. all works published are my own.
✦ okay so
✦ kaeya as a parent
✦ i feel like when he first got the news that he was gonna be a dad
✦ either through pregnancy or adoption, we don’t exclude
✦ he would be quite nervous at first but would cover it up with false confidence
✦ because he doesn’t really like to be seen as vulnerable
✦ but he’d also be really excited since he never really thought he’d get to be a father
✦ i’d say that it’s kinda canon that kaeya is good with kids
✦ i mean, have you seen him with klee?
✦ my heart hurts every time they interact
✦ when it comes time to teach his child
✦ he’d be super super patient!
✦ and teach them in a way that they can understand, but also wouldn’t baby them too much
✦ he’d also be a very gentle parent
✦ strict when it comes to his child’s safety, but would let them get hurt since it is an important step of growing up
✦ (of course, he’d keep a close eye and make sure his kid wouldn’t get dangerously hurt, but a scuffed knee or elbow isn’t the end of the world)
✦ kaeya would probably patch up the child while asking them to explain why they got hurt and how to prevent it from happening in the future
✦ he still has his knightly duties, which take him away from his kid and partner, which he hates
✦ but if he has to go to a different region, he’d probably try bring back a small souvenir or trinket as an apology for being gone
✦ having a kid would be another excuse for kaeya to get out of his knightly duties though, much to jean’s exasperation
✦ klee would be such an awesome older sister
✦ as long as no bombs are involved
✦ he would probably get so much joy over watching klee interacting with his child :(
✦ he would be at his child’s side as soon as possible if they were crying or upset
✦ may not know exactly how to comfort them and may leave that to his partner if they’re better at comforting that he is
✦ but he’s always willing to lend a listening ear and give cuddles
✦ kaeya would also be really good when it comes to playing with his kid
✦ he’d take up any role he was given with pride, and it’s obvious he’s a good actor
✦ i think he’d actually get so involved that he’d forget he was playing with a child that probably got bored half an hour in
✦ he’d also be very good at telling stories
✦ i’m sure he has a lot of them from his adventures
✦ he’d obviously make them slightly more fantasy-like and less realistic since some things can be scary for younger kids
✦ but he has to draw inspiration from somewhere
✦ he’d probably tell his kids about their uncle diluc and grandfather crepus
✦ even though obviously crepus isn’t around to be a grandfather, and him and diluc are basically estranged
✦ but his kids will know about their awesome family
✦ and if they really wanted to, he’d let them have a relationship with diluc since i don’t think he’d be the type to let his own poor relationship stop his kid from knowing their family
✦ all in all, whilst kaeya has his faults (who doesn’t)
✦ he’d be a really good father
✦ and want to give his kid the best childhood possible
dividers from @/cafekitsune.
i do not condone the reposting or translating of my works anywhere. if you like my content, please reblog it instead.
#🖋️ ; raine’s poetry#⛅️ ; clear weather all around#to-kazuha#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kaeya x reader#genshin kaeya x reader#kaeya alberich x reader
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