#my love letter to Tru

[maokomi]

Winking at myself rn shooting myself smiles blowing myself kisses absolutely flirting w the me in the mirror bc fel is such a pretty bitch

#i could pull whoever I want forreal no joke #I’m in my narcissus era rn so tru #love letters to aphrodite ♡.ೃ࿔*:·

[thedoorsofmyheart]

There is something in cards, old letters, messages, poems, all the words written and stamped in the mail; old love letters like those of Franz Kafka, Frida Kahlo - & Lemony Snicket’s love letters to Beatrice - really any love letter at all - (my dad used to send letters to my mom on cut out pieces of cereal boxes in college) … it just completely changes me as a person, I’m a sucker for it. There’s something to that… while I go hopelessly romanticize I suggest you Go read them if you wanna have a good time and cry!

#love letters #feel it in my soul #if someone sent me a love letter i’d pass out #i love love #love tru love #love is love is love is love is love is love #love language #hopeless romanticism #i love old things #vintage #letters from war #frida kahlo #franz kafka #lemony snicket

[fceriestcrdst]

you have Steven energy!! because ur literally just vibing and doing ur thing but if people are jerks you won't hesitate to stick up for yourself! the autism powers are unmatched

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! SDGKLJGSDJKLGSDJKLSGKJLGSDF!!!! DFLKGSKLFHGJDFKKLDFJKDFHKLJFHDJKL

STEVEN!! MY BABY!! MY LOVE!! MY DARLLIINNGGG!!!!!!!! SWEET SWEET BABBYYY!!!!!

NO JOKE,,,I KEEP ACCIDENTALLY REFERRING TO MYSELF AS STEVEN BC I RELATE TO HIM SM & THEN I'M LIKE "wait...he's steven---HANG ON-"

(Anonymously or not) tell me what character I have the same energy as

#mack 🚀💓 #crow's friendship garden 💖💐 #crow's love letters 🥺💗 #its tru tho! i will 10/10 cut a bitch for being weird like 'NO >:((' #LIKE THE FISH FROM FINDING NEMO!! JUST 'MY BUBBLES!!!'

[bedoballoons]

Hello, could i request a Jealous! Lyney who has yet to confess to reader who receives gifts and letters during valentines day?

Awwwe valentines day!! One of my favourites because it's so lovely! Thank you so much for your request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Valentines from all but him~༺}

CW: Lyney gets jealous! Confessions and reader is well liked by many!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You stood there in shock as the mailbox spilled its contents onto the ground, absolutely overflowing with candies, love letters and even a rose...which was more like a group of random petals after being crushed by everything else. By the looks of it you had probably received almost thirty confessions...maybe more and you took care picking each one up, even the petals despite the fact you'd most likely wouldn't reciprocate their feelings. The least you could do was be kind about it.

Meanwhile, Lyney stood next to you...doing his best to keep face while you smiled at all the cutesy letters and blushed at all of the gifts you'd received. If only he could have confessed before valentine's day...then you wouldn't have received any letters at all because the two of you would be dating, or at least he hoped you'd be dating. Currently he was just your friend, a friend who was so desperately in love with you that he got jealous from little love notes. "My you've sure got a lot of confessions, are you...interested in anyone in particular?"

You set all the mailboxes contents in your bag carefully and smiled at Lyney, if only he knew you were holding out hope that he might like you they do..."Oh, well I suppose there is one guy I like alot...." You blushed slightly, wondering if maybe it was a bit to forward...or maybe not forward enough?

"Who?" Lyney felt a little sick upon hearing you liked someone, it was like his chances were getting slimmer with every second, at least if he knew he could compare himself and see if he could win you over...maybe he could show you some of his prototype magic tricks he'd never shown anyone else or rearrange the stars, he knew whoever you liked couldn't possibly do that.

"I cant tell you that!" You panicked, you couldn't let him find out you liked him, it could ruin your friendship...and you'd loose one of the most incredible people you'd ever met. "I mean...sorry I'm just not ready to share that yet. I really want to know he likes me back first..."

Lyney bit his lip, this was truly a dilemma...you liked someone and he didn't know who, he had a confession all ready for you, but he didn't want to upset you by being to forward...but he also didn't want to never try, then his eyes meeting yours for a moment and he just...couldn't let someone else have you, "Please, don't hesitate to tell me no...but I...I have a gift for you as well."

"What?" You felt your heart skip a beat, the world was suddenly spinning...you had dreamt of this and yet it didn't feel real, no you should stay calm, what if it was a platonic gift, but then again who gives platonic gifts on valentine's day?! You felt like you could explode...

Lyney reached into his pocket and pulled out paper butterflies that flew all around you... sprinkling heart confetti everywhere until the biggest of them landed in your hands... unfolding to reveal a letter...

To my dearest,

I must admit...I've written this letter at least a hundred times and I've just never had the confidence to give you it till now...I know, hows that possible when you're able to put on shows in front of thousands of people and put yourself in crazy situations that could have dire consequences...

Well none of those things terrify me as much as the idea of loosing you as a friend...but keeping my feelings to myself...I can't do it anymore. Maybe this is selfish of me...maybe you won't want to ever speak to me again..but I'm hoping I can convince you...to feel the same...

In truth, I've loved you for so long that I don't know if I could ever truly not love you now, you're everything I could ever want and so much more. So beautiful...that even now as I write this I'm having to stop myself from getting lost in my thoughts about you...

I could go on forever, but this letter has already gotten rather long so...I'll just say what I've been meaning to..

I love you.

-Lyney

You'd never read anything like it, nothing had ever come close to having so many feelings behind written words and you had to reread it a few times to actually make yourself believe it was really for you...that Lyney had really written it. "Lyney...I don't even...know what to say. I don't think I've ever felt anything close to this before..."

"It's perfectly fine if you don't accept-"

You cut him off with a hug, tears rolling down your cheeks from all the wonderful emotions you just couldn't control..."I do accept! I accept your feelings with all my heart Lyney, archons I love you so much, i-im so happy!"

He didn't know how to respond to such good news...so he just hugged you back, letting what you had just said sink in. This was...everything he had wished! "I love you too"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #lyney genshin #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyneyfluff #lyneyhcs #lyney headcanons

[rebeltarot]

YOUR UNIVERSE ➕ Uncovering Your Strengths

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

[3 piles] ・ [4 decks] ・ [5 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, signs, messages, songs]

Hello love, and welcome to my pick-a-card reading. you can find instructions and my disclaimer below. please read these before choosing your pile.

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

Painting: The Interrupted Sleep - François Boucher (1750)

Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 01 ➕

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

A, R, O, blank, X, Z, Libra, Virgo, Saturn, 8th house, Divine timing, I always feel your energy, When I close my eyes I see you face, The best friend you have will help you, Wealth beyond your fondest dreams, Live your own life, Happiness, Longing, Captured, Start Somewhere

Song: Don't You - Sickick

UNCOVERING YOUR STRENGTHS

Tarot: The Wheel of Fortune, Justice

Oracle: The Adventurer, Stink Bug, Rejection

You are like an alchemist, someone who transforms any lesson and any situation into an opportunity for growth and learning. Your adaptability is remarkable, whether it's adapting to the different phases of your life or transforming the world around you. No matter where life takes you, you seize every opportunity to learn, grow, and leave your mark on the world. You carry a reservoir of wisdom with you, and your words leave a lasting impact. Because of your fair nature and your integrity, you can attract many good things into your life. With the wheel of fortune, I do feel like people either love you or they avoid you. You are vocal about your values and beliefs. Your greatest strength lies in your unwavering loyalty to your own principles and moral compass. You speak your truth, you always act with integrity, and you are unstoppable when it comes to issues of fairness and justice. You're a humanitarian at heart, and you are far from a safe place for people who deny a people’s humanity and rights. Your nature comes with significant responsibilities, and people often look to you for emotional labor, which can be draining. Yet, your thoughts and ideas are your pillars of strength. Even if you doubt your ability to meet these expectations, you are more than up to the challenge. Unlike others, you allow your mind to wander and expand. You are open-minded, and this comes with the inherent burden of responsibility. You effortlessly identify moral shortcomings and courageously confront them. While you may feel uneasy about this, it's a source of strength. You are a true advocate for justice, deeply self-reflective, and willing to confront the issues you might be avoiding. You understand that some battles are worth the effort, and you remain an idealist at heart. You find beauty and growth in facing resistance, and your resilience and unwavering hope are your greatest assets. You adapt and persist, always ready to fight for what is right and just. Your loyalty to your values, sense of justice, and morals might unsettle some, occasionally leading to rejection. Nevertheless, you remain true to yourself, embracing growth and understanding.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 02 ➕

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

F, A, N, X, Pisces, Aquarius, Taurus, Moon, 10th house, Dark hair, Monday, Superficial, You make me want to do better and try harder, Dance with me - make me sway, Be true to who you are, Think happy be happy, Today I am excited about everything, I found my life when I laid it down, The best time for new beginnings is now

Song: Naturally - Tinashe

UNCOVERING YOUR STRENGTHS

Tarot: 10 of Wands, 4 of Pentacles

Oracle: The Gambler, Raccoon, Trickery

You're a diligent individual, and your core strength lies in your sense of responsibility and unwavering determination. You shoulder your burdens with grace, and it might sometimes give the impression that everything comes easy to you or that your endurance is hereditary. However, your most valuable asset is your brilliant mind, which houses a complex ecosystem of thoughts and ideas. It can be a heavy load to carry at times, but it bears a lot of fruit. Your ability to see tasks through to completion is commendable, and giving up is not in your nature. Your biggest virtues are your reliability and stability. Once you've set a goal, it's nearly impossible to divert you. Anything you consider worthwhile receives your full commitment, and you protect it with unwavering devotion. Taking risks is second nature to you. When you deem something worthwhile, you dive in headfirst. Even in the face of setbacks or failures, you persevere. You don't view these challenges as the end of your journey but rather as valuable lessons that bring you one step closer to your goals. Failure, in your eyes, is an invaluable teacher who reveals what doesn't work, making you even more resilient. Jealousy or envy don't deter you; instead, they inspire you as you can see behind their masks. Rather than fixating on your own limitations, you focus on the potential and the evidence that achieving your goals is possible. If someone else has accomplished it, you believe it's within your reach too. Rather than being paralyzed by greed or jealousy, you let them inspire you to do better. Problem-solving is another of your strengths. Your ingenuity allows you to navigate any obstacle in your path. Nothing is impenetrable to you as you operate with a clear vision and unwavering determination, unimpressed by potential distractions or the opinions of others. Your way of thinking is creative and innovative. You also possess the ability to adapt and pivot when necessary, using your grit to work smarter rather than harder. Your vulnerable and open heart, combined with your self-honesty, are loyal companions on your journey. You consistently maintain authenticity with yourself and those around you, and you possess a discerning eye that can spot deceit from a mile away.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 03 ➕

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

G, E, I, Cancer, Aquarius, Taurus, Capricorn, Aries, 12th House, 3rd House, 7th House, 1st House, Venus, Root Chakra, She sees possibility everywhere, I wish my eyes could take photos, Dreams, Strong Eyebrows, You are my mirror, Don't be scared - I ain't afraid, It hurts when I hear your name, I hear your messages in songs

Song: My Potna Dem - $ilkMoney

UNCOVERING YOUR STRENGTHS

Tarot: The Emperor, 6 of Pentacles

Oracle: The Herald, Giraffe, Balance

You possess a natural gift for leadership, embodying authority and integrity in your actions and words. Your strength derives from your unwavering discipline and proactive, action-oriented approach to life. Your stability and reliability stem from your commitment to your values and morals. You naturally capture other people's attention, and when you enter a room, your presence cannot be unseen. Your strength exudes strength itself, and commanding a room is second nature to you. Generosity is another pillar of your personality. You're a giver at heart, known for your charitable nature. Your deep humanity and boundless empathy are truly admirable. Community holds great importance to you, and you're always ready to lend a helping hand to those in need. Your unwavering support and generosity are truly commendable, as you focus on giving rather than taking, enriching the lives of those around you. One of your unique abilities is seeing the silver lining in every situation. Regrets become stepping stones to growth, and melancholy transforms into an abundance of hope and idealism. Your "what-ifs" don't hold you back; they serve as inspiration. Your optimistic mindset positions you as your own herald of change. You maintain an idealistic worldview and vision. Personal development is of utmost importance to you, and your ability to turn your focus inward inspires and uplifts those around you on their journeys of self-improvement. Your natural inclination to give and help others is complemented by your self-awareness, which recognizes that you can't pour from an empty cup. Another one of your strengths lies in your internal focus. You don't seek external validation, nor do you indulge in envy or comparisons with others. The only competition you engage in is with your previous self, constantly challenging and focusing on your growth and expansion, all while taking your time and progressing at your own pace. You are a fearless explorer, unafraid to step out of your comfort zone in the pursuit of learning and evolution. You're results-driven, and you hold your values in the highest regard. You embody resilience, courtesy, and unwavering support in your interactions with others. Your approach is consistently marked by humanity, grace, and love, leaving a lasting impact on those fortunate enough to know you.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarot community #free tarot readings #tarot readers #personal reading #self-discovery #tarot of tumblr #free tarot #pick an image #tarot readings #divination #witchblr #spiritual community #tarot reading #tarot #channeled messages

[jade-efflorescence]

the second tag game is a song-inspired one!

spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters

Thanks for tagging me @whenthegoldrays!

this is gonna be long oof. for anyone that was tagged, this is completely no pressure :) love you!!

joy by for king and country (@entomologistologist)

after like by ive (@milkteawithrusk)

decode by sabrina carpetner (@bethestars)

enchanted by taylor swift (@foaming-sea)

fighting by bss (@howtotrainyouragents)

farewell, neverland by tomorrow x together (@teateaaxx)

fireflies by owl city (@firefliesdies)

letter to my 13 year old self by laufey (@daydream-of-a-wallflower)

outdoor pool by maisie peters (@bodybetters)

runaway by onerepublic (@leaskisses444)

evermore by taylor swift (@firewoodfigs)

september by earth wind and fire (@lentachorum)

cate's brother by maisie peters (@talldarkandsuperman)

emily by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler (@svnflowermoon)

new emotion by the aces (@tru-blubelle)

complicated by avril lavigne (@mollyhale)

eve, psyche and the bluebeard's wife by le sserafim (@michinaaa)

#tag games #jade does tag games

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (25)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She could not hide how much hope and strength the letter from her husband filled her with − she knew that he had not forgotten her, that he still wanted her to be by his side. She thought strenuously throughout the day about how to do this, who to turn to. She realised that after what Aegon had said to her, he would never let her join her husband, terrified of his anger if she passed on him his words.

I fell in love with you from the first sight.

She thought that the King had fallen in love with a fantasy, reinvented it for himself and claimed that if he had her for himself he would be a happy man.

She didn't believe it.

She didn't believe it would make a difference.

She considered asking the Queen for help, but then thought it would be too dangerous − with her approach to loyalty and honour, she would not defy her son-king's orders even if they were wrong.

And then she experienced a revelation.

Helaena.

Everyone underestimated her, thinking that locked away in her world, she didn't understand what was happening aroud her and was incapable of taking any logical action.

They were wrong − the Princess was completely aware of the chaos around her and cut herself off from it of her own accord, devoting herself only to caring for her children.

She will understand me, she thought, feeling warm in her heart.

She will help me.

Her visits to the Princess were her daily routine, so they drew no one's attention − Helaena greeted her with a warm smile and a joy that was now rarely painted on her face. They embraced like friends − Helaena took her hand in hers, directing her towards the carpet where her children were playing.

With a rustle of her brown and gold gown she sat on the floor beside her, watching with a smile as her children played together with wooden blocks, from which they had apparently just constructed some sort of fortress. She looked at Helaena, smiling lightly, trying not to outwardly show how nervous she was.

"My dear Princess, I would like to confide in you about a certain feminine discomfort, that has afflicted me recently. I am ashamed to speak of it −" She did not finish, looking at her meaningfully − the Princess raised a surprised look at her.

Something in her gaze betrayed that she understood her − she turned her head and nodded to her servants to leave.

She swallowed loudly, twisting in her seat, feeling her heart pounding fast. Helaena surprised her by speaking up first, fiddling with a piece of cloth of her gown, that unfolded at her legs.

"− the fire calls to you −" She said softly, and she felt her heart stop at her word. "− the scorched earth will breathe a sigh of relief under the raindrops −"

She looked at her in disbelief − she remembered that she had said something similar at the feast after Aegon's coronation.

Her husband had once told her that Helaena had predicted that he would lose his eye when they were children − she hadn't commented on the statement, not wanting to offend him, but she didn't exactly believe in such things as predicting the future.

Now, however, she wasn't sure if her husband wasn't right.

The fire calls to you.

The scorched earth will breathe a sigh of relief under the raindrops.

She swallowed quietly, gathering the courage to say what she had come for.

"I need your help, Princess. I need to escape from here and join my husband in Harrenhal. You are the only one I trust." She whispered, looking anxiously at the door, hoping no one had overheard them. Helaena looked ahead, thoughtful.

"There is one exit, hidden behind Balerion's skull. You know the place."

She looked at her, shocked.

She had never told her about Aemond taking her to the temple of their ancestors.

"Behind the skull, on one of the walls, there are several niches. Behind one of them is a narrow corridor, leading underground along the Red Keep to a nearby forest." She said calmly, finally looking at her, her bright eyes filled with concern and a warmth from which her heart squeezed.

"− I need a horse −" She whispered, looking at her pleadingly.

Helaena nodded, combing a hand through her son's hair.

"− thank you −"

She returned to her chamber full of energy, wondering what she should take with her; she couldn't weigh herself down too much. She knew that she had to travel in man's clothing − she couldn't draw attention to herself while riding the trail.

She decided that she would pass herself off as one of the servants, accepting jobs with various innkeepers for drink, food and a place to rest. She knew such boys − they often joined her father's company on hunts, serving them, getting food and a little penny in return.

She was glad that she had also brought with her to King's Landing clothes designed for sword fighting − they were much looser and looked boyish, so it was easy by putting on several layers of shirts to hide that she had breasts at all.

She thought of the Witch of Harrenhal, of how, when she got there, she would have nothing more than a training attire to change into.

She knew it was wartime and no one would care, but she wanted to show her who she really was.

She was Prince Aemond's wife.

She decided that she would hide her richest red-brown gown, embroidered with golden threads with beautiful buff sleeves in her bag, along with her most necessary things.

She knew it was her pure feminine whim, but she felt she was entitled to it and smiled with satisfaction at the thought.

What was even more important to her were the weapons − her brother had provided her with a short and a long dagger just before she left, wanting her to be able to at least defend herself in if necessary.

She usually had them tucked away at the bottom of her trunk under her books, but since Aegon's confession she had kept them under her pillow. She dismissed Lyanna early, saying she would go to bed, tired from the day, and began her preparations quietly.

As she had planned, she dressed to look like a boy − she managed to sew a makeshift cap from one of the fabrics, under which she hid her hair.

Looking herself over in the mirror, hidden under layers of different materials, she found with a smile that she really did look like a boy. She had not been so excited about anything since leaving her family home − she could feel the wild blood of the Baratheons rushing through her veins again.

She left the chamber late at night, leaning out uncertainly − she could hear the voices of the guards in the distance who she knew were playing cards at this hour. She moved in the other direction with quiet, unhurried steps, feeling the cold sweat on her back − she knew that one sound too fast and too loud would alarm them and draw their attention.

She turned down the corridor, looking around again, noticing in the torchlight that no one was there. She moved quietly ahead, knowing that around the bend was a staircase that once she ran down, she would be safe − no one would hear her in the underground.

She shuddered when suddenly a guard came out from around the corner − he wasn't wearing armour, so she didn't hear his footsteps. A tall, stocky man with black hair and beard furrowed his brow at the sight of her, surprised and she froze, looking at him with big eyes.

"− who are you, boy? − what are you doing here at this hour? −" He asked in a low, nervous voice, grabbing her arm. She felt her heart squeeze in terror and thought quickly what to say − she swallowed loudly, speaking quickly.

"My father is fighting alongside Prince Aemond in Harrenhal, my Lord. I long to join him − I cannot bear the thought of him being there alone. I am his firstborn son, I should be at his side." She muttered lowly, trying to sound like a boy. The man's gaze dropped to the bag she held in her hands − he pulled out his sword, pointing the blade at it.

"− let me see what you have inside, boy −" He said.

She cursed her stupidity and the fact that she had put her gown inside, knowing that she wouldn't beat him in a fight. She decided that she had to take a risk − she pulled her cap off her head and the man drew in a loud breath, looking at her in disbelief.

"− my Lady − forgive me, I did not recognise you − what −"

"− I must join my husband − he sent me a letter, asking me to travel to Harrenhal, but the King does not give his permission −" She said, pulling a rolled parchment from her pack, looking around, praying that no one else would come across them.

"− my husband believes that my arrival will force my father to make a decision to support his troops − without this, it will take an eternity to suppress the rebellion, even more of our soldiers will die − please −" She lied easily, looking at him pleadingly, grasping his hand in hers. The man was clearly confused − she could see that he was hesitating and she had to take advantage of it.

"− King Aegon has been soliciting me − he has tried to touch me, including in places that only my husband can touch − I beg you, Ser, do not send me back to him, he will take me by force −" She mumbled, tears in her eyes from fear and desperation.

The guard swallowed quietly at her words, evidently understanding and knowing what the King was doing to his servants in his chamber. He looked around the corridor uncertainly

"− gods, have mercy on me − go, my Lady, before I change my mind −" He said impatiently, and she immediately ran down the stairs, feeling her heart pounding hard.

She thought that when she returned she would make this man captain of her guard and shower him with gold.

She ran ahead like mad, putting her cap on her head again, rushing under Balerion's huge skull − she prayed in her spirit that her husband's ancestors would keep her safe.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the alcoves on the back wall and saw that, indeed, behind one of them stretched a narrow, dark corridor, into which she could barely fit. She began to walk down it, until finally there was only darkness around her.

She could hear the strong beating of her heart and felt the terror of seeing nothing in front of her or behind her. She touched the cold stone walls with her hands, exploring the floor in front of her with her feet to make sure that there was no hole she could fall into.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she suddenly felt fresh air and spotted a light around the next corner. She moved swiftly in that direction, feeling like crying out with joy at the sound of rustling trees, spotting the starry night sky ahead.

She let out a loud breath, feeling that she was panting all over, seeing that by a tree nearby stood a beautiful brown horse, saddled and in full gear.

The horse looked completely average and normal, not like a stately steed from a royal stable.

She thanked the gods for Helaena's thoughtfulness.

She tied her pack to the back of the saddle and mounted her horse, looking around. She saw the Red Keep building behind her and realised that she was in the South − she thought with satisfaction that she knew which way to go and set off on horseback ahead, flustered and happy.

She will really see him.

She would join her husband in Harrenhal.

She rode at a gallop, not wanting anyone to stop her, taking advantage of the fact that darkness covered her. She wanted to get there as quickly as possible − she knew that she didn't have much time, and lone wanderers were easy targets for highwaymen.

When she saw the royal road, she thought happily that now the way was easy and she galloped on, wanting to cover the longest possible distance as quickly as possible.

In the morning she stopped at one of the abandoned, burnt-out houses, wanting to take a nap by her horse for a while.

She wondered, looking at this grim sight, if this was the work of her husband.

She woke up once in a while, frightened that someone would spot her − she finally decided it was no use, and her horse rested enough for her to ride on.

She thought that the gods were watching over her, for although she passed carriages and various people, no one stopped her.

It was only near Harrenhal itself, that her husband's soliders with Targaryen crests stood in her way, looking at her watchfully.

"− Who are you, boy, and what do you seek here? −" Asked one of them, riding up to her on horseback. "− turn back if you don't want me to pierce you with my sword −"

She pulled the cap from her hair, the man raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

"− I am the wife of the Prince of Aemond − I come at his request − take me to him −" She said confidently, wrinkling her brows, tired and sleep-deprived after her journey, riding for the last hours in the night and full rain. Several of the men laughed at her words.

"− forgive me, my Lady, but you look to me more like a peasant's daughter than a lord's −" He sneered, looking at her with amusement, her lips tightening.

He wanted to say something already, surely about how he could take care of her body, but he said nothing as she untied her sack and took out a letter from her husband, handing it to him.

"− do you recognise this writing? − do you want to burn in the fire of my husband's rage? −" She hissed, the man looked at each other uncertainly.

"Lead her to the fortress."

The guards rode around her, as if she were a prisoner or hostage. It amused her, but she was also relieved at the sight of the great stone stronghold that she saw before her.

She had made it.

Aegon did not manage to stop her.

She was ushered into a large, larg stone hall, torches lit all around her.

She knew that it was late at night, the sleepy guards looking at her with disapproval.

She felt her heart beating hard with excitement, eager to see his face − nothing else mattered.

She didn't want to listen to his words or explanations.

She just wanted to feel him again.

Suddenly, she heard someone's quick footsteps and turned around, her breath caught in her throat.

He was standing in front of her, staring at her wide-eyed, his lips slightly parted, his chest rising uncertainly in accelerated breathing. She couldn't hold back a smile of emotion, seeing him for the first time in weeks, feeling like bursting into sobs with happiness.

She ran towards him and he moved ahead her like a predator, grasping her in his hands, surprising her with his raspy, almost brutal kiss that took her breath away. She entwined her hand in his hair, reciprocating the caress of his warm, familiar lips fervently, the sticky, loud click of their saliva echoing in her ears like the most beautiful music.

He forced her to step away, her back hit the wall − she felt everything around her spinning, her body filled with nothing but desire, she heard and saw nothing more than his face and his breathing, aroused and accelerated.

She sighed as she felt his fingers quickly untie her corset, spreading it to the sides, his impatient, warm hand squeezed her plump breast and that they both moaned into each other's mouths with pleasure and happiness.

"− get out − all of you −" He hissed out loud, and she felt a thrill of excitement at the thought that he wasn't even going to move to his chamber.

He wanted to take her here, now, immediately.

They were both panting with arousal, her hand ran through his hair, a low, satisfied murmur came from his chest as his lips brushed her neck. She began to breathe faster as the last of the guards left, and he immediately began to untie the material of her breeches. Her fingers reached into his, doing exactly the same, their kisses messy, loud and wet.

She felt her insides clench and pulsate around nothing, craving fulfilment after such a long separation.

Unable to keep her vow, she touched herself almost every night, thinking of him.

"− forgive me − I didn’t mean a word − I swear −" He whispered in low, weak voice, as if emotion squeezed his throat so tightly that he was unable to get anything out. She squealed softly as he lifted her up suddenly in his arms.

She knew what he was going to do and she had never wanted it more.

"− forgive me, my sweetest − it’s all well now −" He exhaled, then with one, sure thrust he opened her wide on his cock, forcing his way inside her − she moaned loudly in delight, clenching her eyes, parting her lips, shocked at how pleasurable this sensation was.

She was so wet that he began to slam into her with ease, imposing an intense, brutal pace on her, his manhood spreading her slick, fleshy walls so much that she couldn't catch her breath.

"− I know − I’m here −" He panted, and she whimpered at his words, giving herself completely to him, writhing beneath him as his fingers dug into the soft skin of her buttocks.

She needed this, needed him inside her, as deeply as possible, to feel again that they were one − her walls pulsed greedily at the thought, her moisture running down her thighs, dripping to the ground each time his body pounded against hers with a sticky slaps.

"− don’t leave me − ah − please, don’t send me back −" She mumbled helplessly, feeling that she wouldn't survive another separation.

She had come such a long way for him, she had done as much as she could, and now all she wanted was to be with him and never leave him again.

She heard him groan low at her words, panting in her ear, his forehead pressed against the stone wall in front of him, his manhood rooting into her with sure, deep thrusts of his hips, making them both groan, giving themselves over to these simple, animal pleasure as if in a trance.

"− never −" He hissed in such a way that shivers run down her spine.

They were both no longer moaning, but almost screaming, seeking their fulfilment, feeling it coming, their sensations so intense that they couldn't breathe, their bodies hot and sweaty.

"− I’m going to fuck you all night − tonight − tomorrow − fuck − the day after tomorrow − do you understand? −" He growled and she whined loudly at his words, clenching her eyes shut, her insides pulsing hard against him, his cock rubbing her where she needed it again and again.

She clamped her hands on his buttocks, letting him thrust into her, panting along with him, sweat running down the back of her neck.

"− yes − please − please − please, fill me −" She sobbed out helplessly, feeling the tension in her lower abdomen reach its zenith, that what she wanted was about to come.

She wanted him to fill her with himself again, to feel that she was all his, that he only wanted and desired her, that nothing else but them mattered.

She felt a shudder run through him, his thighs slapping against her buttocks greedily and loudly, their fingers clenched against their flesh painfully and firmly.

"− g-gods − yes − please − ah! −" She moaned, feeling as a wonderful, overpowering wave of fulfilment and pleasure surged in tickling, hot pulses through her body.

His hands wouldn't let her move an inch, her oversensitive, swollen insides unable to escape his deep thrusts, making her run out of breath in her chest.

"− that’s it − your husband is close −" He whispered so tenderly that she sobbed again, feeling as if she was about to cry, having never felt anything like it before in her life.

It felt like her body was in a state of some kind of euphoria, trembling all over with happiness − she heard his low groan, his hot seed finally spilling inside her.

Gods, she had never felt so fulfilled.

She squealed loudly, gripping him tightly as he fell suddenly to his knees, panting heavily, apparently overwhelmed like her by the intensity of the experience.

They both breathed deeply, embracing one another, cuddled into each other, trying to calm themselves. She closed her eyes, snuggled into his neck, drifting off completely, focusing only on his scent, the warmth of his body and the pounding of his heart. She shuddered when she heard him whisper.

"− we will finish in my chamber −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @tempt-ress @blairfox4 @crazymusicgirl104 @ahristata @menaosama @ladywin17

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #aemond targeryen angst #hotd angst #aemond angst #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell smut #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #hotd fandom #house of the dragon fandom #ewan mitchell fandom

[summersreality]

Lyrics as affirmations

Not my fault - Reneé Rapp, Megan Thee Stallion

|| “It’s not my fault you gotta pay for what I get for free”

|| “I woke up hotter than I was yesterday”

Espresso - Sabrina Carpenter

|| “I can’t relate to desperation”

|| “My give-a-fucks are on vacation”

|| “Walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya”

Hall Of Fame - Stray Kids

|| “I write my name into the stars right now”

|| “Yeah I’m the spotlight”

|| “Hear the people call my name, here I’m in the hall of fame”

|| “Numerous records, I’ll make ‘em always”

Me Too - Megan Trainor

|| “I never pay for my drinks, my entourage behind me”

|| “If I was you I’d wanna be me too”

Just Like Magic - Ariana Grande

|| “I get everything I want ‘cause I attract it”

|| “Take my pen and write some love letters to heaven”

yes, and? - Ariana Grande

|| “Yes, and? Say that sh*t with your chest”

|| “My tongue is sacred, I speak upon what I like”

I Am - Baby Tate, Flo Milli

|| “I am healthy, I am wealthy, I am rich, I am that b*tch”

|| “I am gonna go get that bag and I am not gonna take your sh*t”

|| “I am protected, well respected, I’m a queen, I’m a dream”

|| “I do what I want to do, and I’m who I wanna be, cause I am me”

Conceited - Flo Milli

|| “Feeling myself, I’m conceited”

|| “Pretty b*tch walk in, they gon salute”

Circus - Britney Spears

|| “There’s only two types of people in the world, the ones that entertain and the ones that observe”

|| “I’m like a wing leader, I call the shots”

|| “I’m like a firecracker, I make it hot”

|| “All eyes on me in the center of the ring, just like a circus”

#law of assumption #affirmations #manifesting #neville goddard #lyrics #loassumption #loassblog #summersreality

[soracities]

Hi Mim,, I wondered if you or any of your followers have words/advice on going long-distance with a beloved partner. I have to move far away from my love of 9 years(!) to attend my dream PhD program and we won't be able to reunite for another 3 years while he finishes his schooling. Every day takes me closer to the move and has me more heartbroken even though this is what I want and I believe we can make it through. Any words of comfort from the soracities community is so welcome and needed. <3

I have no experience with long distance relationships so there really isn't much advice I can give, but what I can tell you anon (if you haven't already) is: plan, plan, plan!!! Long distance is always going to be difficult and there's no way around that difficulty so one of your best bets is for both of you to work as hard as you can to maintain open, attentive, consistent, and deeply honest communication.

Figure out how much communication you need and what kind you value most--what about your partner? What are the ways you can make time and space for these despite the distance? Then sit down with your partner and work out a schedule for phone calls, video calls, daily (or weekly) check-ins etc and, most importantly: hold each other (and yourselves) accountable to them. Set out a game plan for how you will tackle conflicts over long distance: if you both are having packed school weeks, or feel you really need to talk about something, agree on a code word that says "I know you are busy but I desperately need you to make some time for this issue / for me" and then agree on a timeframe in which the other person will address it.

For example, you can schedule it so that you both ensure you have at least one weekly catch-up, and one fun date, on separate days that you always keep to: if you can manage something extra, great, but if not: have a baseline minimum you both honour alongside your commitments to your work and education and daily lives (you can even just have a study date where you both do your work together via video call)--your dates can be anything: you can do a weekly movie night with Hyperbeam or Teleparty (or visit the cinema on the same day to watch the same film and then call each other to talk about it), if it's feasible, take a walk together when you're on the phone and make a whole thing of it: pick a nice scenic spot in your respective places, plan your route, let the other know what it's like where you are, bake something together over video call, etc. Whatever routines and rituals you had together, see if there is a way you can carry them over remotely over the next 3 years, or even vary the things you do to make up for the fact that it is remote for now.

I think one of the hardest things to contend with is the sudden lack of physical proximity to each other, and the loneliness that follows especially if you see people around you in relationships having that, so I would also recommend finding stand-ins for that physical closeness. You said you won't be able to reunite until your partner finishes his own schooling--I don't know if that means quick weekend visits are out of the question (either through sheer distance or financially) but if they aren't, absolutely see if you can plan a visit either from your end or his. If not then maybe, along with your virtual dates, write each other letters, or send each other small tokens, postcards, silly little missives, anything to offer a physical piece of yourself to each other but also to remind the other that you're thinking of them and missing them and they can physically touch and hold those thoughts in a physical form.

I can absolutely understand your fear, anon, and it is definitely not easy and incredibly daunting, but I think it is something beautiful that you have had 9 (9!!!!!) wonderful years with your love already and the fact that you are brave enough to take this leap for your own dreams AND have such faith and trust in your relationship and its strength is a true testament to what you have built together over these years. You both should follow your dreams and fulfill them and I wish nothing but the best for the future awaiting you both where you get to combine those dreams and continue building another chapter of your lives together 💗💗💗

#ask #Anonymous #anyone who HAS done long distance please do send in your advice 1000% 💗

[warningsine]

Old man yaoi this and old man yaoi that WHERE is my old yuri movies????

God forbid women get older and remain sexual beings.

Regardless of quality, the following films are about middle aged and elderly lesbian/bi/trans women (not all of these revolve around romance btw, many are documentaries):

Silent Pioneers (Short 1985), doc.

Nitrate Kisses (1992), doc.

Forbidden Love (1992), doc.

Last Call at Maud’s (1993), doc.

Not Just Passing Through (1994), doc

Tender Fictions (1996), Barbara Hammer's autobiography.

Murder and murder (1996), middle aged not elderly.

Late Bloomers (1996)

Between Two Women (2000)

Hand on the Pulse (2002), doc.

The Hours (2002)

My Mother Likes Women (2002)

Ruthie and Connie: Every Room in the House (2002), doc

Sunset Story (2003), doc

No Secret Anymore: The Times of Del Martin & Phyllis Lyon (2003), doc.

The Page Turner (2006)

Finn’s Girl (2007)

Ten More Good Years (2007), doc

Black./Womyn. (2008), doc

A Place to Live: The Story of Triangle Square (2008), doc

Hannah Free (2009)

A Horse Is Not a Metaphor (2009), doc

Edie & Thea: A Very Long Engagement (2009), doc

For 80 Days (2010)

The Owls (2010)

Gigola (2010)

Cloudbirst (2011)

Gen Silent (2011), doc

Out Late (2011), doc

Les Invisibles (2012), doc.

Mommy Is Coming (2012)

A Perfect Ending (2012)

Vic + Flo Saw a Bear (2013)

Tru love (2013)

The Passage of Time (2013), doc

Rebel Menopause (2014), doc

Before the Last Curtain Falls (2014), doc

Advanced Style (2014)

Female Masculinity Appreciation Society (2014), doc

Kate Bornstein Is a Queer & Pleasant Danger (2014), doc

Freeheld (2015)

Grandma (2015)

MAJOR! (2015), doc about Miss Major Griffin-Gracy

Stuff (2015)

Black Mirror: San Junipero (2016). Everyone has seen this one, I know.

The Pearl (2016), doc

Etage X (Short 2016)

The Personal Things (short 2016), animation about Miss Major Griffin-Gracy

Marguerite (2017)

Chavela (2017), a doc about Chavela Vargas.

Wild Nights With Emily (2018)

The Favourite (2018)

Happy Ending (2018)

The Heiresses (2018)

Love Letter Rescue Squad (2018), doc

A Great Ride (2018), doc

Obscuro Barroco (2018)

Monica – Loose on a Cruise (2018), doc

Two of Us (2019). A fave of mine. Deeply humanistic and touching.

Time & Again (2019)

Madame (2019), doc

So My Grandma’s a Lesbian! (2019)

Uferfrauen - Lesbian Life and Love in the GDR (2019), doc.

The Archivettes (2019)

A Month of Single Frames (2019)

Forgotten Roads (2020), doc

Naomi Replansky at 100 (2020), doc

T11 Incomplete (2020)

The Aerialist (2020)

Mama Gloria (2020), doc, Gloria Allen's story.

Rebel Dykes (2021), doc.

The Affair (2021)

A Secret Love (2020), doc.

Surviving the Silence (2020), doc.

The Mistress (2020)

Your Mother’s Comfort (2020), doc about Indianara Siqueira.

A Wild Patience Has Taken Me Here (2021), middle aged not elderly.

Genderation (2021), doc.

Nelly & Nadine (2022), doc about two women that fell in love in a concentration camp.

Sweetling (2022), doc.

All the Beauty and the Bloodshed (2022), doc about Nan Goldin.

Nyad (2023)

#also not to be cheesy and do propaganda but 'grace and frankie' (tv) is an old yuri sitcom to me even though it is technically only yaoi. #'night country' qualifies if you're looking for a subtextual middle aged/younger lady situation #and there's hacks if you count w/e deborah and ava have as romantic #also gloria in girls5eva is supposed to be in her late 30s but the actress is in her 60s #Women of Brewster’s Place as far as old miniseries go #i'm sure i'll think of more #anon

[sparklingsin]

— within these walls | steve harrington

+ steve harrington x reader

summary: "A house becomes its people."

you and steve find yourselves at an old mansion for a weekend getaway and love seems to be in the air. but is the mansion all as it seems— a beautiful old house, with a rich history and intriguing tales, where you and steve can have a bit of fun? or is there something more sinister at work?

tags: horror elements, mention of murder, skinny dipping, smut ⚠ 18+ MDNI ⚠, lengthy descriptions, not relationship centric // 7.5k

a/n: my submission for my strangertober challenge and a love letter to the horror genre. inspired by the works of christopher pike & r.l.stine (two horror authors i was obsessed with as a kid). i was really excited about writing this story and i hope you give it a read. happy halloween 🎃

The car lurches uphill, tires crunching over gravel and loose mud beneath. The sight unfolding before you forces you to bring your feet down from the dashboard, as you slide forward in your seat to peer through the windshield.

The house is magnificent.

A Colonial Revival, with white walls that have been worn down by time, grey rooflines and multi-paned windows that reflect little light. It is an old, old house standing against the test of time and yet, the glory of the house is barely tainted.

It is beautiful in the way that it evokes goosebumps on your skin as Steve’s car approaches it; a slight unease unfurls in your chest but curiosity gets the better of you.

As the car halts, you step out onto the cobbled footpath in silence before the tall cement steps, as does Steve. Up close, the house looks like something out of the set of a movie; foreboding yet beckoning you to take a closer look. The house has an air of eeriness around it but the large board standing atop the stairs makes it look more inviting. “Welcome to The Winchester House” the sign says. Beneath it, there are words scribbled in chalk— “Vacancy available”.

Steve comes to stand beside you, hands on his hips as he looks around.

Trees flank the mansion in near perfect manner with ebony branches reaching towards the sky, like long fingers emerging from dark waters for repose. A strong wind blows in as dark, cumulonimbus clouds gather in the sky above, rustling through your measly clothes and freezing your soul solid.

"Steve, baby," you murmur, shifting closer to your boyfriend, "Are you sure this is the place?"

Steve faces you then, the curl over his forehead lifting in the wind. There's an unsure smile on his face.

"Yeah, I checked,” he says, nodding up at the house. “Called the receptionist today and confirmed it. The Winchester House. This is it."

You gaze back at the looming house. As if on cue, lightning strikes the earth behind it, illuminating the entire scene in blinding white. You jump into Steve's side, who instinctively wraps his arm around you. Standing a mere two feet from so much electric charge makes gooseflesh erupt on your skin.

“A haunted house date was not what I had in mind,” you whisper, looking up at him and your wide eyes make him smile fondly.

“First of all, I don't believe it's haunted,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Second of all,” he says, resting his forehead against yours, ”—it is the only place near Hawkins where we can be all alone.”

A devilish grin spreads across his face then and he kisses your nose sweetly. Some of the uneasiness in your chest dissipates as Steve’s grip tightens around you.

“You and me,” he declares, pressing his lips to your cheek next and you giggle, pushing him away gently. “You, me, and the housekeepers who hopefully won’t bother us much.”

“Your idea of romance is strange, Harrington,” you laugh, running up the steps of the house as Steve attempts to grab at your waist but fails. You’re already at the door when you look back at your boyfriend— a vision in baby blue jeans, a blue-white polo and that favourite brown bomber jacket of yours.

“Hey!” he calls after you, before opening the trunk of the car to grab your things, “Don’t hate it till you try it.”

The inside of the house is a different story.

Because it is a lodging, the interior is cleaner and less menacing, although not entirely. The walls are dull, the furniture antique and there is an air of gloominess that forebodes you from being precarious.

Your fingers find solace in the spaces between Steve’s, as he steps towards the reception when the desk clerk, an amicable middle-aged woman, greets you.

“This is the key to your room,” she says, handing it to Steve, after he has provided her proof of the booking and his identification. You smile back at her out of courtesy.

“We have an innkeeper, who you can ring in for anything you need. You will be served meals for the duration of your stay,” she says, maintaining her perfect smile.

“Quite a short one, might I add.”

Steve smiles sheepishly. “Ah, we wanted a weekend getaway. Gotta get back to work on Monday,” he says, looking back at you.

“Am I right to assume that you are here for a special occasion?”

“Yup, It’s uh— it’s our one year anniversary tomorrow,” Steve replies, looking proud and you blush a little when the clerk smiles knowingly.

“Ah, young love,” she muses, smiling wistfully. "You seem like a lovely couple."

Steve smiles, looking back at you and you blush under his gaze once more.

“Are there any other lodgers staying here with us?” you ask, curious because ever since coming into the house, you haven’t heard a single sound.

“Just the one but they will be checking out tonight,” she answers and your uneasiness grows. The clerk seems kind alright, but being the only ones in the house makes you apprehensive.

"Hope you enjoy your stay at the Winchester House," she says, still smiling in the same way and it is starting to creep you out a little. 

Steve gives her a cursory smile, before picking up your bags and heading to the first floor. You follow him, feeling something strange gnaw at the base of your throat.

Your uneasiness dissipates when you step into your room.

It is a bit old-fashioned for your taste; the beige satin bed sheets, the four poster bed, the wooden furniture. But there is a comforting familiarity that makes you sigh out loud. The second the door closes, Steve wraps his arms around you from behind.

“How'd ya like it, baby?” he asks, burying his nose into the crook of your neck and breathing deeply.

“This room is beautiful. I’ve never stayed in a place like this,” you say, reaching behind you to card your hands through his luscious hair.

“So weird that I hadn’t heard about this place before. It’s so close to Hawkins. You’d think someone might’ve mentioned it.”

The woods look lovely from the window, dark and mysterious. The scent of petrichor tingles at your nostrils, as you watch the sky darken into a midnight blue. A warmth washes over you, feeling light with Steve like this. It had been so long since it had been just the both of you— no kids, no Hawkins and it’s strange dangers.

Steve nuzzles further into your neck, enveloping you whole and you melt into his strong arms, inhaling his intoxicating cologne. Your eyes are about to close, exhaustion creeping into your limbs faster in his warm embrace, but something outside the window catches your eye and your heart skips several beats.

A figure, standing at the very edge of the forest and you gasp, jumping a little in Steve's grip. You focus on the edge again but the figure is already gone. You blink several times, swallowing hard.

"Baby, what—" Steve asks, turning you to face him, concern creasing his forehead. "What's wrong?" he asks, noticing your wide eyes.

"I— I just saw something— maybe a man… outside," you muster breathily and Steve frowns, looking back at the window.

"Well, the lady at the desk did tell us there were other guests around… it must be them,” he suggests.

Right. Guests. Or even an innkeeper. You don’t know why your mind had jumped to something sinister immediately.

"Yeah, yeah you're right," you say, feeling your heartbeat slow down a little as Steve pulls you towards the bed. You plop down beside him, sinking into his shoulder. Perhaps, you need this vacation more than you realise.

"You okay there, beautiful?" Steve asks after a moment, caressing your face with his thumb.

"Yeah, I-I don't know, I was surprised I guess, sorry," you murmur.

Some of the uneasiness in you has lifted— it had to have been an innkeeper or a guest— but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right.

You had seen someone. And they had been looking up right at you too.

An hour later, once you've freshened up, you head down for dinner that is served in the dining hall. It is a bit early for a meal but the low growling in your stomach leaves no room for complaints.

The spread looks absolutely ravishing. You wonder how much Steve must have spent setting this up for you and you suddenly feel guilty.

Between work and the adventures you had in Hawkins, you and Steve were rarely able to catch a moment to yourselves. The exhaustion had resulted in petty fights that made you both miserable and it had been Steve’s idea to go on a mini vacation— a getaway to celebrate your love. Maybe it is the exhaustion that is making you so jumpy and you resolve, in that instant, to get out of your mind and have a good time. For Steve, at the very least.

You watch, as your boyfriend pulls the chair out for you, gesturing for you to take a seat. A wide grin is plastered on his face and he seems genuinely enthused. God, you are so in love with Steve Harrington.

The affair feels awfully fancy,  as an older innkeeper steps forward to serve the food to you. He has a kind but withering face, his strong dark moustache indicative of some youth in his ageing body. From appetisers to the desserts, there are about six dishes that you and Steve wolf down hungrily.

“I’ve never had anything so good back in Hawkins. We should take the cook home back with us,” Steve says, through a mouthful of chocolate mousse and you laugh. 

“I hope the food has been adequate?” A frail voice calls, and both your heads whip in its direction. Standing at the entrance of the hall is an even frailer man, dressed in an old but sharp suit, with a time-chiselled face and a long wintery-white beard— reminiscent of the wizards Dustin keeps talking about and you smile inwardly.

Steve looks at you, the puzzlement clear on his face and the old man comes to stand at the head of the long table.

“Excuse my rudeness,” the man rasps, “I am Samael Winchester, the owner of this house.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Steve says standing up and so do you, smiling at the man. You feel a strange urge to bow before him but resist it.

“Please, please… be seated,” Mr. Winchester says, waving his hands as he hobbles to the head of the table on his cane.

"This is a beautiful house, Mr. Winchester," you say, in an attempt to start a conversation.

The old man is silent for a moment before a smile splits his crooked mouth.

“This mansion," he begins in a raspy tone, "—has housed all the generations of the Winchester family. At least seventeen, if I recall correctly. It is the pride of the family name. It has always protected us, but it was once the grounds for an unspeakable tragedy which has tainted its name forever."

At his words, the hair on your arm stands up and  a chill presses between your shoulder blades. What unspeakable tragedy is he talking about? 

Mr. Winchester falls silent for a moment, a strange look on his face, and you exchange a cursory glance with Steve. 

"A house, as it were, is a reflection of the people that dwell inside it; its walls and wood an echo of the inhabitants. A house becomes its people."

He pauses, his gaze drifting off into the distance. For a whole moment he seems frozen in place, unmoving, and it makes you incredibly uneasy.

Then suddenly, as if somebody had hit play on a recorder, he starts to speak again.

"I have no offspring of my own, so I am afraid, the burden to carry its legacy dwells on lodgers like yourself, who might enjoy its protection and hospitality."

"If you do enjoy your stay at this house,” he says, voice rising an octave, “—please spread the goodness of its name. I urge you to broaden your senses and hear what the house says, for she has incredible stories to share with those that want to listen," he declares, breathing deeply. The air seems to shift with his trepid tone.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your stay,” he adds abruptly. Before either of you can react he has already turned away and started out of the door of the dining hall. 

You and Steve exchange another glance. That was weird, his eyes seem to say.

The words of the old man stew inside your head as you finish the last of your dessert. Thanking the inn-keeper for his lovely service, you exit the hall with Steve on your heels.

Holding Steve's hand you trudge up the stairs, back towards your room, only stopping to examine the paintings lining the wall. Every painting is the portrait of a Winchester that you presume lived in this house. There is one of Mr. Samael as well, from a more youthful time, and there is spark in his eyes that he now seems to be missing.

On the landing of the first floor, you almost run into something small as Steve calls for you to watch out and you halt in time to see a little girl, no taller than your knee, peering up at you.

"Hello," you say, a little out of breath from having caught yourself but try to force a smile. The girl is wearing a nightgown, something you didn't think children wore anymore, but pay little heed to as the girl smiles up at you.

"Hello, Miss," she chirps, brilliant blue eyes twinkling with mischief. She looks like an absolute doll with her two ponytails and big, round eyes.

"Hey, love," you grin. "What's your name?"

The girl doesn't answer, only looks between you both before fixating her gaze onto Steve. It isn’t strange that kids take an immediate liking for Steve, he just has a placating effect on most children.

“Aw, where are your parents, little one?” he asks, sinking down to her level on his knees.

“Daddy’s gone,” she states.

You exchange a glance with Steve, “Gone? Is he out?”

The girl nods her head aggressively. “To hunt,” she says, pointing at the window at the far end of the aisle. “In the forest.”

A little bell goes off in your head; it had to have been the girl's father that you had seen earlier. A wave of relief washes over you.

The girl looks up at you, beaming and then turns away.

“Careful!” you call after her, but she disappears down the flight of stairs and into the hall somewhere, her grey nightgown bellowing behind her.

Steve shuts the door to your room behind him.

“Well that was... something,” he murmurs, as you throw yourself onto the bed. You groan, stomach on the edge of bursting. The chocolate mousse had been far too heavy.

“Mr. Winchester?” you ask and Steve nods.

“He seems very attached to the house,” he replies, plopping down beside you on his elbows.

"I know. There is so much history in this house. So many stories."

Steve nods. “But the way he spoke about it, asking us to listen, as if it was—"

"As if it was alive," you cut him off, feeling that strange chill down your spine again.

“My heart kind of broke when he said he has no kids,” you add. “Do you think the real reason he’s turned this into a lodging is because he’s lonely?”

“That’s a sad fucking thought,” Steve murmurs.

You shrug. “He seemed sweet but I felt kinda weird when he was speaking.”

Steve nods again. “If I was an old man, living in a mansion all alone… it’d be weird if I wasn’t a little cuckoo.”

You chuckle. "Hey. Be nice."

“You think you could do it?” you ask after a moment, turning on your side to thread your fingers through Steve’s hair. He leans into your touch.

“Do what?”

“Live alone, in a mansion like this?”

“I could,” he begins, grasping your other hand in his and pressing his lips to your fingers.

“But I don’t want to,” he adds softly, “Not ever again. Not without you.”

There’s a look in his eyes that makes your breath catch in your throat. Steve Harrington is radiant, a star at the very centre of your solar system.

“I love you,” you say, rushed words tumbling out of your lips.

He holds your gaze, then slowly moves closer. His lips brush yours lightly, hesitant, eyes searching yours for an answer you had given him long ago. Your eyes close as he presses in again, tender lips swallowing your own as he pushes you further into the bed. You kiss him back passionately, letting your fingers lose themselves in his hair and yourself in his warm hold.

When your mouths separate and the world finds bearing again, Steve cups your face.

“I love you too," he says, adoration bright in his eyes.

"Let’s go to bed. I’ve planned a long day ahead of us.”

It’s the crack of the dawn when Steve wakes you up.

“Babe, what—” you mumble, your sleep-addled brain struggling to understand whatever is happening.

“Happy Anniversary, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, and there’s a flame in his hands — no, a candle on top of a tiny pastry —  that he holds out for you. The soft amber lights up his grinning but sleepy face, and you can’t help but smile.

“Aww, Stevie,” you squeal, “Happy Anniversary, my love!”

You blow out the candle together, feeding each other the pastry and kissing sloppily between the mess. Steve licks off the little pastry you’ve got on the corner of your mouth. In the dark, you’re a tangle of limbs and sleepy heads, sighing and giggling into each other.

“Shit, I love you so much,” Steve whispers against your mouth, as you pull him in for the umpteenth kiss. 

“I love you so much too,” you muse.

Steve pecks at your lips but then pulls away, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Okay, sorry to do this but we've got to go,” he says, pushing himself from on top of you at once and you frown, immediately grieving the loss of heat from his body.

“Go where?”

Steve picks off your jacket from the wall mount and throws it at you, a somewhat mischievous look on his face. You cock an incredulous eyebrow at him.

“It’s a surprise.”

When Steve takes his hands away from your eyes, the sight before you makes you gasp in surprise.

Steve has bought you a spring of sorts, in a more open part of the forest by the mansion. The clearest water froths in the smallish spring which is surrounded by trees.

"Holy shit," you murmur, taking in the natural beauty of the place and Steve grins.

"How did you find this place?"

"The inn-keeper told me about it," Steve says, tugging you closer to the outcrop of the spring.

"Remember how you said you've always wanted to skinny-dip?"

You quirk your eyebrows as he leers and steps away from you.

"Well, I am about to make all your dreams come true," he says and takes off his shirt, shoulder muscles rippling as he does. You can't help but brazenly ogle at his chest, the expanse of muscle and hair, enticing. His pants follow suit and you blush, feeling heated even in the cold morning air.

Steve smirks, slowly wading into the spring. You watch as he dips under and comes up a second later, all his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Baby!” he calls, looking at you pointedly.

“Steve Harrington, I’m not getting naked in the middle of nowhere,” you say, only half-heartedly, because Steve seems to be enjoying the water far too much.

“Are you going to deny your boyfriend the pleasure of your company on your first anniversary?” he asks, pushing back his wet hair and pouting at you.

“You’re spending too much time with Robin.”

Steve makes a face at you.

He's impossible, you think.

You give in— as if you had any choice— and start to take off your shirt, and Steve comes to lean on the wall of the spring, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes.

"Putting on a show for me?" he asks, voice low.

You smirk, taking off your jeans in the same manner, being slow on purpose, until you're in your underwear. A shiver travels down your body from the sudden cold, and the water of the spring looks even more tempting.

"Those too," Steve commands, pointing at your panties.

You submit, yanking them off, feeling exposed in the frigid air. Not wanting to catch a bout of pneumonia, you rush to the spring and climb in with Steve's help. The water is warm—almost hot—and you sigh loudly at the shift in temperature.

"Atta girl," Steve whispers, pulling you close to him by your waist. The spring is shallow, and you have to kneel to stay submerged.

"Happy Anniversary, babe," he says, smiling down at you, looking at you through hooded eyes that make you tingle in all the right places.

You push up at his hair, slicking it back onto his head and he smiles.

"I'm so lucky to have you," you whisper.

The two of you bask in silence then, enjoying the low ebb of water around your entwined bodies. The rustling of the leaves, the faint chirp of birds and the gentle babble of the spring makes you feel at peace. You could close your eyes and stay here forever, encased in the safety of Steve's arms.

“This place is so pretty, Stevie,” you murmur after several minutes, feeling a lull in your body from how calm you feel.

Steve brushes your nose with his, and you respond with a shy, fleeting kiss. The shy kiss turns into something more eager quickly, the both of you waiting for this very moment since the week, last. His hands cup your ass under the water at once and pull you taut to his body, just as you slip your arms around his neck. You can feel his hardness against your belly, little tendrils of heat erupting low in your abdomen at his touch.

“Nothing compares to you,” Steve whispers, lightly kissing the corner of your mouth and you sigh.

Up close, you can see the tiny droplets that encase Steve’s little moles, all across his face, neck and down his front, the little curls of hair, wet and clinging to his chest—shining in the light of the early dawn. His eyes are a dark pool of hazel, eyelashes brushing the top of his cheekbones as he blinks, the bits of stubble he hasn’t shaved in some days and his lips— plush and so inviting you can’t help but lean in.

Steve kisses you back, mouth moulding itself against yours. He draws you in, sucking softly and all the world fades away, leaving you two alone in the vast expanse of the blue waters.

You deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip in with ease. His tongue glides over your own, teasing and hot; his breath fanning across your face as he tilts his head to push deeper. Steve takes charge, moving the both of you closer to the wall of the spring and steadies you against it. Heated, he moves to bite at your lower lip, tongue sliding over it to soothe it right after. He moans as you grind up against him, feeling a burn low in your belly and his hands squeeze your bare flesh.

“Baby,” he whimpers, as his lips move to your jaw, teeth gnawing at your skin, sure to leave marks. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his tongue licking the column of your neck, making hills rise over your body and you moan.

“Stevie, what if someone hears us?” you gasp, but your words fade into a groan, as Steve sucks on your collar bone, hand coming up to squeeze your left breast. He flicks your nipple and then squeezes it, drawing a whimper out of your lips.

“Don’t care,” he rasps, the sharpness of his voice going straight to your core, “Gotta have you.”

Your mouth falls open as he flips you around and pulls you to his chest; strong, tanned arm thrown over breasts with little care. The manoeuvre pebbles your breasts at once, as his lips sink to the nape of your neck.

There’s something animalistic about doing this in the open air, under the blue of the sky— exposing your intimacy so casually. But in the moment, the fire thrumming under your skin destroys all your inhibitions.

Hot want shoots through you as Steve’s other hand finds your cunt, still underwater and you grind up at him, needing that sweet friction. His water calloused fingers feel heavenly up against your throbbing clit, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

You are so turned on by the way your body fits into the curve of his chest, hips slotting onto his pelvis to allow his cock to nestle perfectly between your cheeks.  You rut into him, pleading, and Steve moans into your shoulder.

The water ebbs around you both as you push up against each other with increased frenzy, feeling yourselves heat up even in the chilling cold. And then, without warning, Steve slips into your stretched out hole, a whine tearing from your lips at his motion.

“Fuck, s’fucking good for me,” he curses, as his length finds it’s seat between your clenching walls. Your mouth hangs open as he starts to move, using the buoyancy of the water to pump himself into you with ease.

It is unlike anything you’ve experienced before; his long, hard member stretching you open so well in this position, that you are incapable of forming coherent thoughts. You’ve taken him raw before, but this— this feels truly wretched in the best way. His finger continue to work you as he pumps himself into you, the low sound of skin slapping skin under water, feeling erotic.

Your mind chants his name, as you try to roll your hips around him too, just as he begins to pump faster, pulling you up and towards your peak with him.

“Steve, I’m gonna—,” you hope he knows what you mean as he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you so tight and pumping into you with a ferocity that makes you buckle in the water.

You climax with a screaming of his name, not caring that it might be heard fifty miles away in Hawkins; the burst of fireworks in your body making you lose all sensation. Steve comes shortly after, filling you up with his seed; his warmth is enough to keep the coldness of the air away.

“Fuckin' hell, baby,” Steve moans, resting his forehead on our shoulder as you both come down from your high, movements becoming erratic. The water ebbs at your bare chest, as Steve caresses your waist. He pulls out gently then, making you gasp a little.

“That was incredible,” you whisper, turning around and slumping into his chest, hands carding through his hair. With him gone from inside you, you need every inch of your skin to be pressed against his to feel secure. You press a gentle kiss to his wet lips, one he returns with a tender sigh and a smile.

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” Steve rasps, and warmth blossoms over your being. The sun is starting to rise, a blush of pink starting to seep into the blue of the early dawn.

You feel at rest like this, entwined with Steve, in the comfort of his big arms. He’s your man, your lover, someone who’d protect you from anything, someone you feel the most safe with.

You move to kiss him again, opening your eyes briefly and that’s when you see it— a figure, that figure— in the shadows of the surrounding trees again— eyes, pale eyes that freeze your blood in your veins. A guttural scream rips from your throat, startling Steve, who clutches tighter onto you.

“What the fuck?!” he yells, turning around to find whatever it is that you are staring at but there’s nothing there anymore. The figure is gone.

“Steve, f—fuck,” you manage, and you’re trembling now, feeling colder than you’d ever felt before.

Concern clouds Steve’s eyes. “Y/N, what— what is it?”

You grip his shoulders tight, to stop yourself from shaking but in vain. “S-Someone was watching us,” you say and it feels even more insane to say it out loud, but you are surely not going crazy? You did see someone, a pair of eyes— an image seared into your mind forever.

“Baby, there’s no— Christ, you’re shivering. Let’s get out of here,” Steve exasperates, rushing to pull you out of the water after he gets out. He helps you dry up and into your clothes, draping his own jacket around you as well.

Your teeth only stop chattering once you’re inside his car, in the warmth of its seats. You watch as Steve steps closer to the tree where you’d seen the man and you want to call for him to get back but your voice dies on your lips. 

“Nothing here,” Steve mouths and thankfully, returns to the driver’s seat. Shutting the door, he turns to you, eyes wide and creased with apprehension.

“What is going on?!” he demands and you whip your head at him, eyes pooling with tears.

“You don’t believe me,” you declare, trying to hold back the tears, but the image of the figure— so like the man you had seen at the grounds— keeps flashing through your mind.

“I do, but I—shit,” he sighs, before putting the gear into reverse and pulling out of the god forsaken place.

You are back at the house in no time, Steve not having said anything to you in the last ten minutes. He holds you close as you go back inside, not letting go of your hand. The clerk and the inn-keeper are nowhere to be seen but it is early in the morning and you figure they must be asleep.

You fall into your bed as soon as you are in your room. You pull your legs up to your chest, curling yourself into a ball— What is happening to you? 

You don’t want to close your eyes in the fear that you might see the man again.

“I’m sorry for ruining your plan, Steve,” you whisper, as he plops down beside you.

He sighs, turning you over to pull you flush against his chest.

“You didn't ruin anything. I’m only worried, baby. What did you see?”

You gulp in silence, feeling dread cement in your stomach once more.

“A figure, a shadow of a person bu—but I saw their eyes, Steve, clear as day. Pale, and they—they were looking right at us,” you shudder, feeling your chest sink with each word.

“You’ve been jumpy since we got here,” Steve says, kissing your ear. “Could it have been an animal?”

The thought had crossed your mind too.

“No… this thing was… too humanoid to be an animal, Steve,” you plead and you know he must think you’re going insane.

“Baby, we’ve all had troubles with Vecna… after what happened,” he falters and you know where he's heading with this, “— do you think you’re having nightmares? But like, in the day?”

You hold your hand to your head. "I'm not hallucinating, Harrington," you mutter.

"It's... It's gotta be some fucking creep, following us. It must be that little girl's dad," you blurt, words coming out rushed.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. Didn't the lady say that they were leaving last night?"

You huff. "Well, maybe they stayed over. Fuck."

"Okay, just— relax, baby. Let's stay in here until we have to check out," he suggests, rubbing your back.

You glance at him, and the anxious look on his face makes your chest cave. He'd only wanted for the both of you to have a good time and here you were, seeing things.

But these couldn't be hallucinations or a trick of your mind, could they?

The eyes had been staring into your very soul.

You think you've ruined the mood. Steve sleeps the rest of the time up until late noon, when the sun outside your window is high and a slight breeze bellows the curtains inwards.

A yawn resounds from beside you as Steve stirs and you close the catalogue you’ve been reading, reaching over to run your hands through his hair. Steve groans, sleepily turning on his side until he settles his head onto your lap.

“Sleep good?” you ask and Steve mumbles a weary ‘yeah’. You chuckle, running your fingers deep across his scalp, just like he loves it.

“I feel bad about earlier,” you whisper, pouting slightly and Steve’s eyes shoot open.

“Hon, don’t. ‘S okay. I think—” he pauses, sighing. He squeezes your other, unoccupied hand. “I just think everything that’s happened is finally catching up with you.”

Maybe, he’s right. Maybe, it is the exhaustion of the strange happenings at Hawkins taking over your mind. Maybe, the terror that Vecna had instilled in you has manifested itself in this way.

You hope to god he’s right.

“Yeah,” you say, exhaling slowly.

“Hey, hey. No being sad,” Steve coos, lifting your chin with his finger. 

“Here’s an idea,” he says, jumping up from the bed suddenly. “We won’t leave the house but can we just explore it from within? It’s so old, there must be some interesting things around.”

In your heart, you know you don’t want to. There’s a chill that settles into your bones at the very thought of moving in and around this house, but how can you say no to the adorable puppy eyes and hopeful look on Steve’s face?

The house is full of beautiful antiquities that would sell for a fortune enough to sustain you and some of your future generations. Every room is decorated better than the last, a unique collection of furniture — from Italian white marble to mahogany wood— adorning the places. In every room, there is a little bit of history tucked precariously within; a painting of its occupant, a tiny love letter on one of the shelves, a statue of a lady that has the most intricate carving you have ever seen. 

With every room, Steve and you find yourselves in a better mood than before. With every room, Steve finds more and more excuses to touch you, finally cornering you in the library. You barely get a good look of the place, before Steve is dragging you through and into a far corner of the room, tucked behind several columns of shelves.

"What kind of high school fantasy are you fulfilling here exactly?" you muse, as he pecks at your lips, giggling.

"Just be glad you're getting all of the Steve Harrington experience," he mutters through a grin, letting his hands slide down your body.

"Steve, the desk clerk might walk in," you hiss, just as he dips his head to chastely kiss your jaw.

You try to dodge the attack of his lips, afraid you might be caught, but Steve's too good at turning you into a mush. You're wound up too, especially after the fiasco in the morning, if you could ever admit it; Steve's brazen touches always rile you up.

He licks the length of your jaw and you gasp, trying to pull yourself away from him but in vain. He's too firmly, too deliciously pressed up against you and you lean into his ministrations quite easily.

Your hands, having a mind of their own, thread his hair as his fingertips come to linger at the hem of your skirt, right by your thigh. You meet him in the middle for a kiss, as his fingers slide up your thighs, tips cool against your warm skin.

There's an immediate fire igniting under your skin at the hot kiss, the swell of your lips chasing his own. Steve moans into your mouth as his hands palm your core through your underwear, sweeping you into a heat that forces your mouth open.

There's a rush in Steve's movements, and your heart feels heavy with guilt about earlier. You give into him; parting your legs further, allowing for easy access and Steve groans appreciatively. You pant into his mouth as he shifts the fabric of your panties aside, his thumb collecting your pooling arousal and pushes in two fingers.

Your knees buckle and chest heaves, as he hooks his fingers in. He has to press further into you to keep you upright and your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. You begin to moan from his pumping but he quickly shuts off your mouth with his hand.

"Be a good girl and try not to make a sound," he murmurs, increasing his pace and you stop yourself from crying into his hand. Steve knows how to make you feel good like the back of his hand, always tender yet rough somehow.

The peak seems close, within reach, as you rock against each other. Not long after, you're putty in his hands, as the wave hits you hard and you slump in his arms.

You've barely recovered from the haze when suddenly, a thump resounds from somewhere in the library and you jump apart— causing Steve to almost bump into the shelf behind him.

He signals for you to be quiet, as you quickly smoothen your dress and hair. You both walk out slowly, casually pretending to check out the books on the way until you're at the very start of the room, by the entrance.

There seems to be no sign of anybody.

"What was that sound then?" you ask, glancing around but everything seems to be in place— there is a desk, littered with several books, a tiny photo frame and an untouched globe that seems to strangely be collecting dust.

"Probably some book fell somewhere?" Steve says, but you're not looking at him; one of the books on the desk has caught your eye. A thick, red, leather bound book, with gold lettering embossed into it— "The House of Winchester."

You pick it up, and Steve comes to stand behind you, peering from over your shoulder as you open it.

The book is full of writings about the Winchesters; the family, the house and everything in between. The book is divided into sections; starting with the history of the family itself, then a section of photos and finally, family memorabilia. You sift through it, stopping to read interesting tidbits about the owners and former occupants.

You recognise some of the people in the section of photos, from the paintings in the house you'd inspected before. You continue to flip through the pages, until you reach one that has the picture of an old newspaper article titled— "Innocence Suffers Father's Wrath" and your fingers falter against the corner of the page.

Your eyes begin to skim over the words but Steve taps your shoulder then, gesturing for you to read out loud.

"Mr. Clausius Winchester, arrested late afternoon at the revered House of Winchester, withstands grilling at the hands of State police. Body of Margaret Winchester, his seven year old daughter who he is accused of killing, disinterred from the forest behind the same house, shows death caused by a bludgeon to the —"

You trail off, continuing to internally read the rest of the gruesome details, swallowing hard. The monstrous crime makes you gag and your heart breaks for the little girl. A picture of a man in a top-hat, with wild eyes and a large, unkempt moustache occupies the rest of the page beneath the text.

The image of the killer father.

The second your eyes settle on the ones in the picture, a chill settles over your being, like the door to a refrigerator has been opened in your face.

"Fucking hell," you hear Steve whisper from behind you.

Is this the tragic incident that the old-man Winchester was talking about?

Dread settles in thick, cementing in your stomach, as you turn the page that continues the article, and there it is, another picture that makes your blood run cold and hair stand on its end.

'Margaret Winchester', it is labelled. The picture is of a little girl, dressed in a white nightgown, hair tied into two perfect ponytails and an adorable smile bunching her cheeks.

The same little girl you vividly remember talking to, just yesterday.

"What the fuck?!" Steve exclaims, drawing a sharp breath, just as the book falls from your hand. You can hear your blood roaring in your ear, heart pounding as the words of the article spin in your head.

"Yeah, that's a no. Fuck that," Steve gushes, and you can tell he's just as thrown as you are.

"It's that.. it's that girl— fuck."

"How can— this can't be real," you whisper, breathing hard.

"Is this a sick joke, what the fuck?" Steve is pacing now and you have to steady yourself against the desk. This cannot be real, this has to be a prank.

But then, subtle memories surface; the girl, her bellowing, slightly translucent gown, the man at the edge of the forest with a top-hat— details your brain seems to recollect only now, feel too real. Too vivid, too freakish.

"We're out of here," Steve declares, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the library. You're too shaken to be thinking for yourself, so you gladly let him drag you to your room.

Your brain and body move in a disconnected fashion; hands throwing your belongings into your bags as your befuddled brain struggles through a fog of thoughts.

The little girl. Her father. The man you had seen. Twice. The forest. "..from where the body was disinterred." The little girl—

The walls outside seem hauntingly cold, and the wooden boards creak audibly as you walk out; the usually normal sound now seems strangely eerie.

The front desk turns out to be empty, the innkeeper missing and Steve seems particularly on edge. You are too, but Steve's firm grip on your hand grounds you a little.

"We're not waiting anymore. Let's just leave the keys and get our asses out of here," Steve decides, placing the keys on the front desk and after a beat, some spare cash.

You're out of the giant ebony door in no time, feeling more than happy to be out of the house that seems to be closing in from all sides.

You plop into the passenger seat of the car as Steve throws your bags in the trunk and slides into the driver seat, turning on the engine at once.

"Baby, you okay?" Steve asks and you don't really know if you are. Instead of answering, you reach out for his hand and hold it over the space between your seats. Steve grasp is tight and reassuring.

"Man, we've seen the weirdest shit at Hawkins," Steve begins, as he pulls out of the gate.

"But, what the fuck was that?"

Whatever it was, it wasn't right.

You cast one last glance at the Winchester House in the rear view mirror, and immediately regret it.

Standing at the gate is the old man, Samael Winchester. He lifts up a withering hand to wave at you and your heart leaps into your throat. It feels like you've betrayed him for some reason, and bile rises up your throat. A strange sadness washes over you as the gravel path twists onto the road, and the house disappears out of your view, once and for all.

"Baby, just, can we forget the whole experience?" Steve is saying, as you pull paper after paper onto the screen, scanning each of the documents line by line.

Your eyes are starting to burn; it's been several hours now but Steve, bless his soul, stands right by your side, bringing you more films to go through.

"I can't let it go, you know that, Steve. I won't sleep until I know," you huff, moving onto the next paper.

Steve sighs, rubbing your shoulder placatingly.

"Baby, it's been hours. Know what exactly?"

"At this point, I'll take anything about the house. The murder. Literally anything related. I don't care if it's one, tiny line," you blurt.

It has been exactly three days since you've left the murder house, but questions continue to plague your mind. For three days you've been walking down the dark corridors of the Winchester House in your dreams, stopping only to talk to the old man or the little girl in them.

Hawkins has it's fair share of stranger things; but ghosts? You had not even considered the possibility of those being real.

"A house becomes its people," the old man keeps saying and you wonder, if he had meant to warn you the very first time he had said it in the dining hall.

Warn you, that the people that used to live in that house still occupy it, like memories, forever reliving their stories within its walls.

Phoning back the house had been a bust. Nobody had picked up all the times you had tried, which was strange in on itself, but you had hoped to talk to Mr. Winchester. Hoped he could give you the answers you sought.

"Wait, what house did you say it was?" Dustin's voice calls from the other side of the microfilm reader, after what feels like hours.

"The Winchester House. Or the House of Winchester. It goes by either," you shoot back.

Dustin is silent for a moment.

"Okay. I think this might be relevant," he says, voice sounding small and you feel that familiar sinking in your chest.

You leap off your seat and move to his side, Steve following suit. On his screen is an article from October, 1906, titled "House of Horrors Deemed Unsaleable."

"The House of Winchester," he begins and you inhale strongly, bracing yourself, "—whose proprietorship belonged to the family of the same denomination was put up for an auction towards the first Friday after the last surviving owner passed away early September."

"The house, which has an ancient history and was notoriously famous for being grounds for a heinous murder, failed to gain traction amongst bidders and remained unsold. The price of the house is staggeringly low today, yet buyers have relucted purchase on grounds of wild stories circumventing the house. Stories of supernatural origins and spiritual claiming."

The world as you know it, seems to flip on its head.

"So wh—what does that mean?" Steve says, frowning.

"It means, Steve," you begin, as your heart begins to pound and breathing shallows.

"The house, for all we know, has been abandoned since 1906," you pause, tightening your white-knuckled grip on the machine to steady yourself.

"And, Samael Winchester, the last owner of the house— according to this article— has been dead for the last eighty years."

please, please let me know your thoughts and take-aways?

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #stranger things x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things #mywriting #if this flops.....its game over besties

[vneuns]

i don’t think eddie actually has his drivers license

no he most definitely does not. so of course you take the liberty of trying to teach him. ( spoiler alert not a good idea. )

“Okay so, the gas pedal is the long pedal underneath your right leg, brake is underneath your left.”

Eddie looks down and nods putting just a little bit of his weight on the pedals to grasp the concept but not enough to move.

“This is your gear stick. The letters stand for Park, Reverse, Neutral, D for drive obviously,” you make a gesture with your hands stating it was common sense. “S is also drive but it’s used to help you go up or down hills and L is low also used when going up a hill but it’s more so for braking.”

“Got all that?”

Eddie nods scratching a small itch on the back of his neck signaling he was nervous. very nervous. you placed your hand on his thigh rubbing your thumb over a rip in his jeans trying to calm his nerves.

“You’re gonna do great,” you whispered ducking your head down a bit when you noticed his eyes were down at his lap. you leaned up towards him placing a kiss on your lips, though when you pulled away he just followed you doing his best to prevent the inevitable.

Pushing against his chest you leaned back with swollen lips from the little nips he had taken on your bottom lip.

“Can’t we just fuck in the backseat?”

A laugh left your lips as you shook your head. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that offer, I promised Dustin I’d teach you how to drive.”

Eddie leans forward his head hitting the horn in the dark mall parking lot scaring off a deer and a few rabbits.

“Okay let’s do this.” His right hand went to the gear shift pulling it into Drive, before he pushed on the gas pedal. For the first few minutes he was fine and he had done a lap or two though by the time his third lap came around while his eyes were on you abruptly you felt something hit the hood of the car.

“OH MY GOD EDDIE I THINK YOU KILLED SOMEONE!” You screamed scrambling out the car towards the old lady who was lied face down on the ground.

Eddie also let out a scream as he got on his knees next to you hyperventilating before turning the lady over to get a look at her face.

Steve harrington.

Steve broke out into a fit of laughter clenching his stomach as he trued to reenact what had happened through gasp of air and laughter.

Eddie fell back against the grill of the car with a shocked look on his face, while you also fell into a fit of laughter being you were the one that set it up.

“I hate you both.” Eddie grumbled getting up off the floor and going to sit on the sidewalk.

“Baby what are you doing!?”

“I never want to touch one of those death-mobiles ever again.”

#stranger thing season 4 #stranger things ff #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x poc!reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x poc!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader

[authorangelita]

I was tagged by @rosieblogstuff 😃

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

259.  I really want to hit 100 stories in both MacGyver and White Collar fandoms.   😁

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

594,984.  That averages out to 2,297 words per work, which is actually better than I thought it would be.  I write a lot of short pieces. 

3. What fandoms do you write for?

In order of most fics to least: White Collar, MacGyver 2016, Teen Wolf, White Collar RPF, Dark Angel, Supernatural.  There are a few other fandoms, but they're related to an event I did on LJ where you wrote down 15 characters from various fandoms, and people gave you random numbers, and you had to write a drabble/ficlet that included those characters. 

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Redraw the Lines (White Collar)

Letter T: Tired (Teen Wolf)

Letter Q: Quilt (Teen Wolf)

Letter K: Kidfic (Teen Wolf)

Friendly Advice and Family Dinner (White Collar)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always plan to respond, but I'm super behind at the moment.  One of these days, I'm going to catch up!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Listen, I'm not proud of it, but I did once write the death of Peter and Elizabeth's dog Satchmo in White Collar fic.

On the MacGyver front, it's hard to tell.  Maybe Regrets (Jack) where Jack decides they all need to leave the Phoenix. 

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't know that I would classify many of my fics as having a happy ending. I think Altered Course, the AU where Jack and Diane decide to foster Mac after his grandfather dies, has a pretty happy ending. 

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, not really.  There are a couple of White Collar fics that I wrote that some people didn't like, but I still didn't get hate for them. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't finished one, but I've tried a couple of White Collar/Teen Wolf crossovers.  That event I did with the 15 characters included crossovers, but they were so short, I don't know that they really counted. 

The craziest one from that was probably Luc Johnston (Tru Calling), Peyton Sawyer (One Tree Hill), and Peter Burke (White Collar) In a love triangle.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, back in the post-Dark Angel days.  A friend and I did a kind of role-playing thing where we wrote a bunch of Dark Angel fic that was mostly never posted, and several Dawson's Creek fics that were CJ/Jen-centric.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Is the Ever Given too obvious?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a whole folder of fics called Limbo.  I've talked about this one before, but I have this idea (and I posted a ficlet of it during an event last year, I think) where Mac spirals after Jack "dies", becomes addicted to pain pills, and pushes everyone away until Jack comes back.  I would love to write it, but the amount of research needed boggles my brain. 

Another one that I probably won't finish is the one post-Regrets (Jack) where (post-Phoenix) Team Improv becomes an elite Search and Rescue team where Jack flies the helicopter, Mac gets winched down to rescue people, etc.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oh, this is a good question!  And also a tough question.  Umm, Jack's voice, finding unique ways to twist an h/c story,  and the occasional zinger dialogue. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Also a good question and another tough one.  Fully fleshing out scenes, not starting paragraphs with someone's name, and coming up with endings that aren't cheesy.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm uncomfortable with it because I don't speak any other languages, and everything I know about translation apps/sites makes me nervous.  I named a fic with a word from another language, and I often think about changing it because I'm worried it means something terrible in a different language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

General Hospital.  Those fics are lost to time (or the secret FFN account that I will never share).  I was 14/15, and they were terrible.  But I'm so glad I had that brief fandom experience.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

For White Collar, it's Redraw the Lines.  I really don't think that answer will ever change.  For MacGyver, that answer changes often, and I'm still writing stuff, so maybe I haven't written it yet.  Today, it's Wearing Your Wounds.

I'm not sure who's been tagged so far, so if you want to play, please say you were tagged by me! 😃

#ask games #20 fic/author questions #this was a lot of fun!

[ladymelisande]

▪︎“House Targaryen has produced both great men and monsters. Prince Daemon was both. In his time, there was not a man so admired, so loved, and so reviled in all of Westeros. It was made of equal parts light and dark. For some he was a hero, for others the darkest of villains."

▪︎Daemon Targaryen is someone who can be restless, chaotic, impulsive and sometimes violent.

▪︎Daemon despised his first wife whom he nicknamed his "bronze bitch". Not only that, but he also hated the latter region as a whole, going so far as to say at the start of his marriage; “In the Val, the men kiss the sheep. We can't blame them. Their sheep are prettier than their wives. »

▪︎In his youth, (twenties) Daemon was particularly impulsive, ready to go to war on behalf of the claim of his brother Viserys I.

▪︎Daemon is said to have deflowered virgins in brothels during his youth.

▪︎In his youth, Daemon Targaryen coveted the Iron Throne.

▪︎Daemon used excessive force/violence in his time as King's Landing Watch Commander.

▪︎Daemon obviously did not seek to see Mysaria again despite the event with Viserys and the miscarriage.

▪︎In Val, Prince Daemon, it is said, whipped the servant who brought him the news of the marriage between his brother Viserys and Alicent Hightower, leaving him almost dead.

▪︎Daemon went to put Rhea to rest because it was the right thing to do – even though he absolutely didn't love her and repeatedly wanted an annulment for their wedding. After doing this, Daemon attempts to reclaim his former wife's property/inheritance for himself. As such, he failed: Runestones in fact devolved to Lady Rhea's nephew, and when Daemon protested to the Eyrie, not only was his request denied, but Lady Jeyne warned him that his presence in the Vale was not welcome.

▪︎︎Daemon probably married Laena for political reasons, (to bond with the Velaryon family) and personal (desires for children) even if she also actually more likely.

▪︎In order to marry Laena, Daemon fiercely insults his fiancé face to face, until the latter ends up challenging him to a duel, in which Daemon ends up killing him with Dark Sister, effectively freeing Laena and her family from the pledge to the son of the Lord of the Sea of ​​Braavos.

▪︎It was around the middle of the year 120, barely 6 months after the respective deaths of Laena, that Daemon married an already pregnant Rhaenyra, indicating that he began an affair with Rhaenyra shortly after Laena's death .

▪︎Daemon beheaded Vaemond Velaryon at the request of his wife Rhaenyra Targaryen, when the latter insulted his bastard sons.

▪︎Daemon sent 2 assassins to kill one of Aegon II's children, as revenge for the death of his stepson Lucerys Velaryon. (Mysaria is the one responsible for finding the assassins)

▪︎Daemon insults Mysaria for fucking when he receives the execution letter for Nettles.

Daemon is obviously a complex human being with his dark facets. All these elements quoted (mostly darker / negative, since that was the purpose of my message) proves it enough. These elements, along with the other positives (which I have not named here) make him a complex and gray character. (Knowing that the "the darkest of villains" aspect probably just came from people who disliked him and amplified his negative traits)

Thing is, since these elements already highlight that Daemon is a complex/grey human being, why are people so obsessed with the fact that he MUST have killed Harwin and Laenor and also cheated on Rhaenyra with Nettles? (and may or may not have slept with Mysaria with Rhaenyra's consent)? Acting as if without these 4 elements, Daemon would supposedly become perfect and would no longer have a shade of gray. Like, Wtf?

Because he is a male character that happens to appeal some of the female audience. So because of that, a large part of the hatedom is set on insisting those parts because in their mind he becomes less 'appealing' to the female audience. Because, you know, women are stupid and they can't be trusted with liking male characters. So, they insist on these particular three things to prove they are better unlike those silly girls who can't accept how those illogical things must have happened and still like Daemon.

#may answers #daemon targaryen #asoiaf #hotd

[straightfromthetorturedpoetsdept]

Hello, hope you're having a good day

I love reading your songs' analysis but I don't get very well your analysis of The great war. What made you think this is the break up song ? Like what lyrics? I think I agree with your pov but I need more details to make my mind

Okay, so, have you listened to hits different? Do you know about the girl who lives in delusion?

The great war is kind of like this for me. First, the great war means the FIRST world war. In the context of this relationship, this is the FIRST war they had to fight. In my opinion, it is about kissgate and how she went on twitter to deny kaylor which was the betrayal that she dealt to karlie.

Let me back up, taylor has repeatedly referred to true love as golden. This is how she views her relationship with Joe, because it's not burning red. The way taylor describes falling in love is "flying towards the sun" and so when a relationship goes bad, you've flown TOO close to the sun. You're so blinded by the light that you keep flying towards it even as your feathers are melting off, Icarus.

She says in the bridge that this love was "burned for the better" which we know is incompatible with how she views true love, aka for her that's joe. Burned here implies this is an unhealthy relationship but the war imagery should tip you off to that before you get to the bridge.

So back to the song, she has started the song off with imagery of fighting and the use of the pronoun "her," and remember this is a song off an album where the theme is literally "if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?" So the song starts off with taylor thinking back to how her knuckles were bruised like violets from fighting this war.

Violet is queer coded specifically for sapphics with a whole history there, as well. So, there is another queer flower being used as imagery here.

"Cursed you as I sleep-talked, spineless in my tomb of silence" this is clearly about kissgate to me. She is having nightmares of where it all went wrong and she is tracing it back to kissgate in 2014 (?)

Crimson clover is another gay floral reference, crimson & clover is a song about sapphic love for example. Anyways, sweet dream was over gives me gold rush vibes and I have nothing else to say about it other than this.

Once we get to the chorus, we have already changed history. "Tears on the letter" brings me to closure, where the reality is karlie apologizing to her (maybe?) And taylor resenting that letter because she remembers how it used to be, how it could have been. But in the song, I think she is saying she wrote a letter crying and vowing not to fight anymore if they could survive kissgate.

I think in reality, this actually happened (karlie sobbing with her head in her hands) but taylor said something to push her away and this started the beginning of the end of their relationship.

So, the second verse I can only interpret as Karlie telling her to trust her more (maybe taylor accused her of wanting them to be caught? This is speculation but im giving an ex so u can see my train of thought of what I think the verse represents) but here is like present taylor speaking through past taylor saying "diesel is desire, you were playing with FIRE" so here is the burning imagery again. You can write a whole thesis on this line and the beautiful metaphor it is for unhealthy relationships but I'll just say here that she is saying that the desire between the two women burned up them inside until there was nothing left of what they had.

"The bombs were close" is a reference to the phone call drama that I think signals the end of their relationship for real because Karlie lost interest in her as her reputation tanked and also the way she was treating Karlie was probably not okay because she was valuing fame over the two of them.

And here she is saying "my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the great war" because karlie wanted them to go public but she was too afraid to live her truth. "Always remember the burning embers" is also another hint that she's talking about a past relationship due to that burning red metaphor she likes to use for break up songs.

Then we get into the bridge which solidifies it for me because "it turned into something bigger" feels so my tears ricochet to me. We know Taylor was betrayed by Karlie somehow in the masters situation and she is literally saying that their relationship war turned into "something bigger" because kissgate was the catalyst for karlie betraying her and causing her to lose her masters in the way that she did. "Even on my worst day, did I deserve babe all the hell you gave me" hell is depicted as a burning inferno and "raining hellfire" is what this line references to me.

Somewhere in the haze = the lavender haze

Got a sense I'd been betrayed = masters situation

Your finger on my HAIRPIN trigger = right where you left me, you won't let me come out because of our history, you had to kill me but it killed you just the same because she is queerifying pin triggers, which is a gun term that modifies it to SHOOT FASTER. The brilliance here is *chefskiss*

But remember, we're still in the time period of kissgate so this is where I make the connection to hits different bridge and outro because it feels like a complete shift in tone where Taylor does decide to trust karlie after kissgate but karlie is now falling out of love with her because karlie looked up at her with "honor and truth" during kissgate and so she called off the troops because she was the one hurting Karlie in the kissgate situation and vowed to find a way to leave her record label maybe?

She called off the troops, which I think is her record label, and I think this means she was trying to find a way to leave them for the 2 of them to go public. But we also know that karlie cheated on her during their relationship because of the way she talks about the emotions behind August.

And the most devastating part of this entire song is "that was the night I thought I lost you, I really thought I lost you" for me because it is the thing she is changing about this entire situation. This WAS the night she lost her because in reality, there was 2 great wars in history.

The Great War foreshadows the coming of a second war in the context of this relationship because people really celebrated the end of the war like it was the last bloodshed they'd see on that scale again. This is why I think it's like hits different because it wouldn't make sense for her to be saying "there is no second great war" with the context of the great war not being a break up song.

Like, in order for this to be a happy song, you would have to ignore the historical context that she is referring to specifically by using the name "the great war." And this is why ultimately to me, this is a break up song because this song is about the feeling of believing you've won before walking straight into a checkmate trap.

Then she used funeral imagery here much like she used it in so it goes for the bridge in that song too. She says "we can plant a memory garden" why would they need to plant a memory garden of they are still together.

A memory garden implies remembering someone who died at war, and then the "place a poppy in my hair" and "there's no morning glory" "it was war, it wasn't fair" these all feel like the aftermath of kissgate on their relationship.

Like yeah, they "won" the battle of kissgate but their relationship was altered by the events of this so greatly it caused a greater, bloodier war.

Again, you cannot divorce the historical context she is using in this song from your analysis and the context is "people thought ww1 was the great war because they couldn't foresee how their actions caused a CHAIN REACTION that led to the second world war" like that is the context.

The singer here, taylor, couldn't see how her actions started a domino effect that would cause Karlie to betray her during the masters situation, leading to their metaphorical death as a couple.

They survived the great war and she vowed she'd always be Karlie's but we know that's not true and that's why it's a break up song, anon.

I love you, thank you so much for this.

#ask and you shall receive #anon love #taylor swift #gaylor #kaylor #midnights #the great war

[treuvulieou]

BLOOGLE BY GOOGLE - GOOGLE BLOG

BLOOGLE BY GOOGLE - GOOGLE BLOG IS FOR THOSE GOOGLE BLOGGERS LOGGING ON AND LOGGING OFF A BLOG IS YES A FOR OF A LOG ONLINE LOG AND WHAT YOU MAY HAVE LOGGED IN TODAY , THE INTERNET IF FULL OF VARIOUS THINGS TO INTEREST AND A NETWORTH OR NETWORKING BE IT TEN JUST ON THE NET FOR ENT. WHAT ONE ADMINISTERED THE ACTIVE USEFULLNESS OF THE INTERNET TO DO , FOR THE MOST PART IT INVOLVES THE USE OF LITERATURE AND TEXT COMMUNICATIONS AS I FEEL INTERSTINGLY IN TO TEXT COMMUNICATIONS IN MY YOUNGER YEARS AND OVER TIME MY INTEREST IN INTERNET WEBSITES AND WEBPAGES ASWELL AS THE VAST PROFESSIONAL INTEREST I CAN INVOLVE MYSELF INTO WITH THE INTERNET AND INTERNATIONAL COMMUNICATION OR SO MUCH INFORMATION AND COMMUNICATION TOOLS AT YOUR FINGER TIPS . A blog, short for weblog, is a frequently updated web page used for personal commentary or business content. Blogs are often interactive and include sections at the bottom of individual blog posts where readers can leave comments . THE INTERNET AND COMMUNICATION AUTHORITIES AMONG OTHER LIKE BUSINESS AUTHORITIES MANY PEOPLE BLOG OTHERS CHOOSE TO BLOG FOR LOVE AND INTEREST AND EARN PROFITABLE EARNING AND NETWORTH , OTHER HAVE NOT INTEREST BUT TO LOG ON OR NEGATIVE INTEREST THAT ARE LESS PROFITABLE THE INTERNET IS AS ONLY AS GOOD AS WHAT YOU ACTIVE PUT IT TO USE FOR BLOGGING AND BLOG OR BOG BE IT GOD IS BOG AND WELL MAYBE GOD SITTING ON A LOG OR BLOG AS B IS LETTER TWO AND WHAT TO OR NOT TO LOVE , BLOOGLE HAS POTENTIAL TO BE THE GOOGLE BLOG AND COMMUNICATION SITE IT CAN BE WITH THE INGENIUS WE OFTEN FIND AT GOOGLE TECHNOLOGY COMPANY & CORPORATION INTRODUCING TO THE PLANET A NEW GOOGLE MISSION AND IDEALOGISTIC IDEA FOR PROPER AGES - FOUNDER WRITER : TERRY I

FOUNDED LOCATION BALTIMORE. USA311 SECURED

FOUNDER OF BLOOGLE BY GOOGLE

allahtreu INSURED INSURANCE & PROPERTY BANKING - 100% EACH PROPERTY BANK 200% EACH PROPERTY %300 PERCENT MYSELF - I AM RESPONSIBLE( PRIVATE 400%) RATES FOR BANKING WITH THE KING CONFIRMATION allahtreu- BANKING 100% INTO IMPROVEMENT - SECURED - allahtreu  -  KINGDOM RATES - EARNS INCOME - ONLINE INSURANCE & BANKING QUOTE INSURED PROPERTY BANKING - 100% EACH PROPERTY BANK 200% EACH PROPERTY %300 PERCENT MYSELF - I AM RESPONSIBLE  ( PRIVATE 400%) RATES FOR BANKING WITH THE KING CONFIRMATION  700% 700%  Banking total 1400% split Secured additional security    - SECURED LEGAL COST SECURED BANKING STATEMENT

Pythagorean numerological computation consists of adding the values of each of its letters in a table (sometimes called pythagorean alphabet). Each of the 26 letters of the alphabet is associated with a number between 1 and 9 (in ascending order) A=1, B=2, …, I=9, J=1, K=2, …, R=9, S=1, … Z=8.   SECURITY - S/O        

Blaze Pascal team Shinobi  or team All PRO Tao THE WAY True Religion Circle Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. Blaze signed with magick Cast/jokingly / 2Cast bred to Cast signed True /  signed Cast - MAGICK/AMEN (5AM5) Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. penname Blaze Pascal signed boop BOOPER (BOOP) OR PERO  BE IT SIGNED CAL313 TEAR’S OR BE IT SIGNED TRU TRUE OR TREU - Pero/s Dragonus or RavenDove True Religion Circle   CREATOR OF TRUE RELIGION CIRCLE AND WITH True Religion ON EARTH signed Terry (True) Boop (BOOPER) OR PERO MAYBE LOKI -( JE SUIS ) I AM THE MISCHIEVOUS ONE I’M NOT bad im just a mischievous that’s all Tao THE WAY True Religion Circle  SECURED  

#RAVENDOVE LOVE - LOVE EVODVEAR