#But the idea of reading the letters as they were written drives me a little bit feral | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clarks-letterman · 12 days

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URGGGGGEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! | zed necrodopolis x male!reader

a/n — putting this as male reader because it's implied. not explicitly stated but I don't want to misadvertise the fic lol, gender neutral pronouns and body parts used. I don't really like the smut in this but the idea was funny to me… this fic will definitely be non-canon by the time Z4 releases!!

summary — Zed goes to Mountain College and gets a sex toy, his roommate comes to their shared dorm at a bad time.

words — 3k

warnings — smut! 18+ | implications of sex and actual sex occur, uses of the word "gooning", zed zombies out and they fuck so... feral!Zed, slight dubcon!! - first zombies fic so it may be ooc or just poorly written

~~~

Fall was in full swing at Mountain College. Soon the tops of roofs would be snowcapped and walkways would be sprinkled with salt, but for now, everyone tried to enjoy the weather while it was still warm. Sloping sides brought the occasional gusts of wind that all of the early morning go-getters had to deal with. They had to learn the hard way to bundle up if they wanted to make it to class without becoming the next monster to roam the Earth—probably as a snow yeti or something similar. The lecture halls were grand to handle the kind of metamorphosis a lot of human and inhuman students would be going through over the course of their early adult years. The only place where people were forced to grow together were the dorm rooms—as a push for inclusivity at Mountain College left everyone in close quarters to someone—or something—they had no clue existed before college. It was another thing to learn about, to understand that the small circle of your hometown isn’t the only circle to exist. People have groups that come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them are going to fit together nicely, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be an effort. But there was one unspoken rule that everyone had to learn, regardless of their major: don’t enter a room with a tie, sock, or anything hanging off the door handle. Not at parties, not in classrooms—if there was such a thing to happen, and especially not at your dorm.

When Zed arrived at Mountain College, he never expected anyone to be as pro-zombie as they were. His roommate was insanely warm and kind to him. No one really hid who they were here. They were at that stage where they left the conformities of high school and living with their parents to being so overwhelmed with freedom that they had no way to grasp everything they had. The freedom; the new flaws determined by society were still unclear. Zed was one of those people, being free from the shackles of Seabrook and Zombietown’s driving force in unity to being another student in a sea full of them. It wasn’t to the same extent that he had gone through, but the established scene of breaking free from your past to start something new is what really pushed him to start trying things. He wanted to be a part of the community and to do that, you have to understand the area first.

Zed started by doing most of his workouts around campus, then transitioning over to the city that was built around Mountain College. The short drive down to the city below could be completed in a timely manner during a daring jog down the road leading to the developed area. He never wore more than a tank top and shorts for his morning runs. The college was north of the city, so he only ever rarely went into the downtown area during his morning runs. He decided to go farther on his run today since he had an upcoming game and needed to burn off the endless brain-fest for dinner from the night before. So many calories, so little scores during his big game was how he viewed it.

Most of the shops still weren’t open, but there was one on this block that was still open. It turns out that the shop was not opening early in the morning, but in fact, closing after a very late night. The neon signs had yet to be turned off, and one reading ‘OPEN’ in big illuminated letters drew his attention. Next to it was a red triple-X sign.

The fleshlight was cobbled together with scraps and carefully welded parts to resemble the repurposed items of Zombietown. It reminded him of home, and the clerk told him that the toy was advanced, deceiving the average person by appearing to only be made of scraps and to have the basic, archaic function of just fucking it. Inside it was a hidden set of magnetic coils that both provided the correct amount of electromagnetic pulses through the zombie’s dick to prevent them from turning into the much more unpleasant version of themselves and it heightened the feeling of jerking off while the machine made contact with the skin from the inside.

He listened to what the clerk had to say about remembering to take off his Z-Band so it wouldn’t overstimulate him to the point of numbness, and that the side effects of it were mainly just slowed brain activity from “too much gooning.” As Zed would be quick to learn, it was called going cockdumb. There was the opposite, too, where his zombie side would forfeit all rational thought and quickly take whatever the closest thing to fuck is around to poundtown.

He learned quickly, though, and did as he said when he got back to his dorm. The order of instructions was simple: get yourself ready—get your dick hard, is how he interpreted it, take off the Z-Band, and use the fleshlight to calm all of his zombie urges. Before he started any of that, though, he placed one of his ties around the door handle facing the hallway. Then he got undressed, stripping down until the full-body mirror over his closet’s sliding door reflected his pale figure and vibrant green hair. He stood in the frame, checking out his recent gains for a second—still eternally lanky, but he was starting to fill out in the places that mattered.

His hands roamed over his body until he got down to his nether regions. Zed rubbed his dick until he was hard enough to stick his dick in the fleshlight, then watched in the mirror as he took off his Z-Band. The area around his eyes started to darken and dark veins started coursing all over his body. He took a few deep breaths before reaching for the fleshlight, each breath drawn in becoming more raspy as his insides changed in a way he couldn’t see. Carefully, holding on to it with an intentionally lighter grip so as to not overuse his own strength, he guided it over his cock and watched his tip disappear into the slit. He moaned, it was tight. He moaned again, it was vibrating. And then he looked back up at his reflection, the monstrous features were gone.

Zed never told you about his little reveries into sex and pleasure as the weeks went on. After that faithful day, he found that he came harder and started to crave the feeling of release more and more. The feeling was simply addictive to him: a mix of tingles from the electro-pulses and genuine pleasure from the stimulation. But with how frequently he did it, there was bound to be a day where mistiming or miscommunication would expose him in the act. Today was that day.

It was around two in the afternoon, the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow and Zed had stopped his morning runs in favor of a quick indoor exercise and then moved to jerking off while the sun rose—you were returning to your shared dorm with the zombie from a lecture, notably earlier than usual. It was a Gen-Ed for biology, something that Zed had learned when you approached him one night in the hopes of having him help you. If he remembered correctly, it was about zombies—a newly implemented unit in the curriculum, now finding its way into its own circle of life. New studies emerged about the carbon emission of their dead cells that Zed couldn’t help with, but he explained how he felt that he functioned and the way he and plants interacted. That was at the beginning of the semester and it was how he found out that your class ran until around two-thirty. Usually.

Zed was enjoying his time inside for a change. Having finished his classes for the day and feeling the testosterone of his morning workout preserved through it all, he decided the best thing to do during his alone time was to use his broken-in toy. Zed was confident enough to not hide his sex life—well, he was confident enough to act like he was having sex with someone else, not his sex toy or the fact that he edged himself until he literally couldn’t hold it in anymore. That part was thankfully undisclosed by everyone since they knew not to enter his dorm, but you entered without thinking. He was laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling like the white ceiling was painted over with the limitless stream of thoughts flowing out of his head. His eyes were shut, soft moans slipped out and he barely shifted the fleshlight on his dick out of the fear of blowing his load too early.

His load threatening to come out dissipated quickly, though, when he heard the door handle click. Then the hydraulic mechanisms that would normally push the door shut started to whir as it opened. He reached for the blanket he slept under, letting the fleshlight hang off his dick so he could find something to cover himself up. He was mad at himself for slipping into the habit of playing with himself while naked, but it was so much easier to bunch his comforter up against the wall and lay in bed with easy access to all of his holes. In the seconds—which felt even shorter for him—he covered his lower half and just accepted that you would see his bare torso. With enough smooth talking, he could convince you that he had just woken up from a nap.

“Don’t be mad.” You said, coming in, hoping that he wasn’t with a naked girl or anything. You tried keeping your view of the inside of the room as limited as possible by turning your head just in case. “But I got out early ‘cause of the weather and I saw the sock…”

The only issue was that his fleshlight was forming a bump in his sheets, meaning that he couldn’t be laid down without it looking like he had a huge dick—or what would be the more reasonable explanation: he had a sex toy. Either way, it looked unnatural. So while you were still acclimating to the sight of him, purposefully looking away to give him time to cover up. You were still under the impression that someone else was in there, but you heard the clatter of something hit the floor, followed by a hasty curse under his breath.

You decided that you had given him long enough and finally looked into your shared dorm room. On the floor was a machine made out of old zombie parts that seemed to have broken into pieces, scattered around a pair of bare feet that padded around the carpet in panic. Your eyes trailed up to see Zed, naked and with a raging hard dick. Still freshly coated from the lube he pumped into his fleshlight, still wet enough to glisten in the sunlight pouring in the window behind him. And to say he was naked didn’t mean much, because he was truly naked—no Z-Band in sight on his body. His dick was red for only a second before the veins on it darkened along with the rest of his body.

Somehow, his dick looked to be bigger, more intimidating. The dark shade it turned caused it to look like anything but slimming. His chest started heaving and that drew you to his arms, bulging with thick black veins that trailed up his arms and increasingly curved arms. They started finding their way to his midsection until his hands reached his dick. Neither one touched his pulsing cock, but motioned around it as if he knew that the fleshlight was unusable. He started fucking the air like he knew the presence of it from his more conscious and tame state.

Incoherently, through a gust of grunts and growls, he started speaking. It sounded like the friendly words he used during your past exchanges but were blatantly needy and desperate. You couldn’t quite hear what he said, so you moved closer under the assumption that he still had some control. Some sense of sanity without his Z-Band on. But as soon as you were within his reach…

Zed grabbed you, pulling you closer to his naked form. You looked at the dark circles around his eyes before meeting his actual eyes. A few words slipped through—as if he could still recall the language he had used for years somewhere deep in his brain—slurring out a loose connection of words that sounded like: “You break it… I break you…”

Zed’s mind was everywhere yet nowhere at once. His feral side was feeling and processing all of the emotions from his “human” side. So many things in his head were whirring for the first time in a while, and nothing was shutting down to compensate for the rising new emotions of rapacity—the urge to have it all and take it all. His head was already running at one-hundred and ten percent so now he needed to claim things in the room. To make things his. His room; the little voice in the back of his head that he suppressed about being annoyed by the fact that he had to share a room with you was finally being heard. You’d walk out of this—or better yet, be carried—with a new perspective on ownership.

Sex with Zed was fast. The urges brought on by his true zombie nature allowed him to rip off the clothes you wore to attend class. They were in shreds, adding to scattered bits of his broken toy, some landing on the sharper parts of it so that you didn’t have to worry about stepping on something painful as he guided you to his bed. It was the closest one to him and the easiest to throw you down on since the sheets were all undone, unmade. He would make you a mess in the next few moments so it didn’t really matter to him.

But for the first time, Zed was faced with a challenge in his zombie brain. He had put you on his bed—the faint smells of sex and sweat emanating into your nose from how much he jerked off in his bed, typically covered by his comforter—but now he looked at you, laid on your back, head on his pillow, and he was faced with one of two choices: did he want to cum in your mouth or your ass? He wanted to do both, and he hit his head in frustration, grunting. The simple thoughts his undead brain was meant to handle couldn’t stomach this as easily as brains.

A feeling deep within him told him that your ass would bring him the greater amount of pleasure, so he hopped on the bed with you, kneeling. His increased strength allowed him to lift your legs easily and with an unmatched haste. Your hole was in clear sight, and he wasted no time in burying himself down into it and lapping away. It was another sensation he had, thanks to consuming a million videos of porn in his spare time. That, and he was still a zombie. Flesh was something that he wanted to taste during his feral frenzy. It was the only thing his tongue tasted: the saltiness of skin. He felt so good, and you wanted to bury your fingers in his vibrant green hair to push him deeper into you, but that seemed a little too risky in his current state. Besides, he didn’t stay down there long. His head reared up a few moments after going down on you, his clear intention to fuck you until he comes, not the other way around.

Thanks to already fucking his fleshlight, his dick was still coated in lube; still sheening with its slick surface reflecting the light. When he put his dick in, he didn’t feel any friction, and he wouldn’t have cared if he did. The friction didn’t bother him and if it didn’t bother him, then it shouldn’t bother you. It never became a problem, though.

Zed decided that the perfect position to keep you in was with your legs over each of his thin shoulders. He started thrusting, taking little to no time to go as fast as he could. He was desperate, uncaring if you needed time to adjust. But, like everything else about his zombie-heightened feelings, what it took to make him cum went up too—much higher than his regular edging point.

Zed was a quick learner. He found which spots made you feel the best—well, which ones made your face twist and your head turn into his pillow as he fucked you. That seemed to make him climb to the peak faster than anything else. Your ass was tight and soft, sure, but it was your reaction to how he dominated you with his big dick that really made him get going. He unleashed a flurry of moans that were deeper than the voice you got used to hearing.

Wet sounds and slapping filled the room until he came for the first time. You could feel your ass burning from the rough slapping and the way he kept up the skin-to-skin contact—breeding you until he was out of breath. Just like when he first transformed into the beastly version of himself.

Zed pulled his dick out and you could hear the wet gushing, as well as the feeling of your hole leaking with his cum. He must have been really pent-up because it was already ruining his sheets and still seeping out of the tip of his dick. You looked around for his Z-band, still gathering your surroundings and acclimating yourself to the point-of-view of his bed. It looked to be on his dresser and within arm’s reach, so you went to grab it. But Zed stopped you, guiding your hand to his dick that was still hard. This was going to be a long night…

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jjuyocatboy · 2 months

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my personal maid ♡ kim jiwoong

kjw!harddom x afab!maid!reader

warnings: fingering in the car, unprotected sex (pls use protection), reader works at a maid café, daddy jiwoong, idk what else to put

a/n ♡: hai guysss its been a long time ㅠ_ㅠ i’ve had such good ideas recently but been way too lazy to write them out and tysm for the attention i got on my first post! it wasn’t very expected hehe~ i hope u guys like this even tho this is kinda bad… >w< anyway imma stop yapping enjoy this !!!

you read the bright letters on your phone, 9:07 written in bold. it’s been 10 minutes and your hot boyfriend still hasn’t arrived. you huffed as you fiddled with your knee high socks, the polyester material feeling itchy as you huffed while crossing your arms.

the one day today you forgot to bring a change of clothes, so you just had to stand in the dark with a maid uniform on. what if you got raped by a random man in the darkness? thank the lord you were being picked up instead of riding in public transport. sooo embarrassing.

finally, you pointed a black audi cruising the streets. finally, your one and only personal chauffeur was here.

“hop on in my sweet little personal maid” jiwoong said with a smirk, rolling down his window

you huffed and and rolled your eyes, getting into the car. at this point with his handsome face you couldn’t even be angry anymore.

“what are you wearing? don’t you have a change of clothes?” jiwoong questioned while scanning you with his eyes, tilting your chin to him with his hands.

“what do you mean? this is my uniform. did you forget? just like how you forgot to pick me up?” you pouted, crossing your arms and turning the other way

“c’mon my little maid, there was traffic, you know i wouldn’t forget to pick you up.” jiwoong said in a whiny voice, gently massaging your thigh

“whatever. just keep driving” you rolled your eyes, causing jiwoong to sigh and roll ahead

while driving, jiwoong’s hand stayed on your thigh, leaving a huge hand imprint on your bare thigh.

although you were mad at him, you can’t admit that he didn’t look hot.

messy hair falling over his forehead, his muscles bulging through his tight black shirt and his grip on the steering wheel made you gulp as you clench your thighs together. fuck. he’s really making you feel things.

“princess, is there anything wrong?” jiwoong said in a sugar dripping tone, gazing at you with his honey brown eyes

“n-n-no…. keep your eyes on the road…am okay…” you stuttered, embarrassed on how wet your pussy is, just because of his thigh.

“okay princess, if that’s what you say” he smirks.

in matter of seconds, jiwoong’s evil hand sneaks underneath your skirt, tracing the lines of your soaked cunt through your underwear

“w-woongie…what are you doing??” you whispered, your thighs clenching in between his hands due to the sudden move

“isn’t this what you wanted?” he replied with a grin on his face, his index finger dipping into the band of your panties, entering your slippery clit

“no…w-who said i wanted this?” you say blushing as he fits his middle finger to the mixture

“is that why you’re soaked right now? c’mon my specialty maid, tell me you need my fingers right now.” he states, sliding his digits through you causing you to let out a high pitched whimper

“mhm…woong…i need your fingers so bad….” you whine, squirming in your seat.

jiwoong starts to curve his fingers faster and faster, adding another finger as he rapidly plunges his fingers into your hole

“f-fuck woongie that feels so good, go faster please” you whisper, your juices dripping onto your uniform and the car seat

“baby you’re so tight…” woongie sighs as he groans to the sound of your melodic moans, palming his tent in his pants

entering your shared house, jiwoong spent no time even making it to the bed, carrying you one hand bridesmaid style to the kitchen counter, ripping his clothes off before you try to take your uniform off…

“don’t.” jiwoong paused you as he spread your legs, “your uniform turns me on” he said as he looked up at you, pushing your skirt up and unbuttoning your top

jiwoong loved to tease your cunt by tracing his colossal dick along your pussy. however this time, he was in a rush.

you gasped as he thrusted inside you, forgetting how big he felt inside of you.

your walls clenched against him, your juices spilling onto his dick and stomach as you wrapped your legs around his waist, whining and moaning with your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

moving towards the bed, jiwoong ripped your uniform off, only leaving your headpiece and knee high socks

“woong!” you gasped, your expensive work uniform laid on the floor damaged

“it’s okay princess, if they ask, let them know your hot boyfriend ripped it off you.” he smiled as he dove into a kiss, smiling into the kiss as he continued to thrust into you

knitting your brows together, a blurred vision entered your headspace as you reached your climax, your stomach twisting and legs feeling numb

“woongie i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum please woongie make me cum…” you whined as you tightened your eyes shut together

“it’s okay baby, i’m gonna cum too, let’s cum together” he whispered in a whiny tone, your milky liquid spilling on you, your stomach, your tits, jiwoong’s abs, and his rock hard dick. what a sight.

“atta girl.” jiwoong said while patting your head, planting kisses all over your face as you sigh

“can we do this every night after you come home” jiwoong chuckles, causing you to lightly punch him.

#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 smut #zb1 jiwoong #kim jiwoong #jiwoong x reader #jiwoong smut #zerobaseone jiwoong #zerobaseone smut #maid sama #jiwoong imagines #kpop smut

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siyooungi · 9 months

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HAII i love ur works sm THEYRE HONESTLY WELL WRITTEN. NO THWYRE A MASTERPIECE i always smiliny n shi everytime i read em🤭

i act have a request!! can you please write a idol!huh yunjin x yn. theyve been in a relationship for almost a year. ANDD yn is a shy person,she rarely talk cause shes insecure w her voice and the way she pronounce stuff(she has lisp? she can’t properly pronounce the letter S” so means yunjin rarely heard her voice.

yunjin did try to convince her multiple time that yn voice is the most beautiful sound in this world,its like a lullaby to yunjin.

THEN on their first anniversary,yn decided to suprise yunjin. yunjin woke up to a singing vd by yn HSJSHSHS OMG the vd is like this https://youtu.be/V-1vBrlD0Bc (lets pretend thats yn???!3!3!3)) YEAH so maybe you can come up w rhe ending cause i act dont have any idea for that hehe. THATS ALL FROM ME THANK YOU SO MUCH MY BRO ILOVE U SM (you dont have to do the request if youre busy<3 it just at thought from my brain hehe)

A/N: Awww, thank you so much!! That really means a lot. Although the video was unavailable, I can only imagine how amazing it sounded. I really hope you like this then!!

Pairing: Yunjin x Fem!Reader

Idol: Huh Yunjin (Le Sserafim)

Warning(s): None!

Yunjin is someone you’d consider your greatest supporter and hype-woman, as there was not a single day that passed where she wasn’t treating you like you were a prized possession. She loved everything about you, everything, from all of your little mannerisms to the beauty you possessed. On top of that, she made you the happiest girl in the world. Some might even consider her the ideal lover, a role that suits her entirely.

You, however, despite all of the never-ending praise and love she showered you with, were burdened by a deep insecurity that prevented you from fully expressing yourself. You dealt with a lisp, which made it difficult for you to pronounce the letter 's,' becoming a source of self-doubt and unease.

Yunjin, being the loving and supportive girlfriend that she was, had repeatedly reassured you that your voice was a treasure, a melody that resonated deeply within her heart. She cherished every hum and shake of the head that you used as substitutes for words. Hell, she even got excited when you spoke a few words. It was all she would typically get when you spoke to her. Despite Yunjin’s best efforts, you remained hesitant and continued to limit your speech, unable to believe in your own voice's beauty.

As your first anniversary approached, you did your best to overcome your fear and surprise Yunjin with something you’d hope she’d feel proud of. Considering you don’t speak often, you figured the least you could do was use your voice for your anniversary. Although she adapted to your lack of vocalness, that didn’t mean she didn’t want it. She’d made it clear every time she tried to evoke more words out of you. Whilst you were more quiet, you expressed yourself through actions. That was something she was always grateful for.

On the day right before your anniversary, while Yunjin was away at practice and you had the place to yourself, you mustered up all your courage to do what you had been planning for awhile.

With trembling hands, you composed yourself and positioned your phone before hitting the record button. Taking a deep breath, you began to sing.

The sweet, tender sound that escaped your lips filled the room. Your voice carried a vulnerability that mirrored your own insecurities, yet it was also infused with a profound love that only Yunjin could truly understand.

When you felt that you sang enough and brought the song to an end, you stopped the recording. It wasn’t necessarily long, but it was more than enough. Well, at least that’s what you hoped.

Feeling satisfied with the progress you made, you locked your phone with a smile. You would send this to Yunjin when she headed off to sleep. She was going to stay the night with her members and drive back to you on the day of your anniversary.

Fortunately, that day arrived rather quickly. You were still asleep by the time Yunjin had awoken. She wanted to wake up early so she could get a gift for you and then head your way, hopefully arriving before you woke up.

Yunjin’s alarm went off, waking her up and earning a groan in response. She picked up her phone to look at the time, squinting her eyes as they attempted to adjust to the brightness of her screen. As soon as her eyes were used to it, she did just that and while doing so, she noticed a message in her notification center. Wondering who could’ve possibly texted her while she was asleep, she unlocked her phone and checked.

It was from you, morphing her confusion into exhilaration. She clicked on the message and saw that it was an attachment, returning her puzzled expression as she sat up straighter and tapped on the video.

The sound of your voice filled the space of her room, bouncing off the walls and gracefully entering her ears. The latter couldn’t help the emotions that washed over her at that moment.

Yunjin's eyes welled up with tears as she listened, captivated by the beauty that resonated within every note. Your voice washed over Yunjin like a gentle wave, drowning out any doubts or insecurities. In that moment, she realized that your voice was not just a lullaby to her, but a symphony of love and vulnerability that transcended any imperfections.

The video eventually came to an end, causing her to quickly wipe her tears away and jump out of bed, forgetting to respond. She rushed to get ready, nearly tripping over her pants as she hopped on one leg to pull them up.

She was ready in record time, putting her phone in her pocket and grabbing her bag. She quickly double checked the bag for the necklace she bought you before closing it and running outside. Her manager knew that she was planning on getting you some flowers, so they already had the car ready by the time she made it outside.

Yunjin hastily got into the car and closed the door. Sensing the younger girl’s urgency, they sped off and headed to a local flower store. As fast as she entered the vehicle, she exited just as swift.

She searched the shop for your favorite flowers and and grabbed them as soon as she spotted them. Not wasting any time, she paid the owner and sent a thankful smile their way before rushing back out.

It didn’t take long before she arrived to your place. Thanking her manager as she got out, she made her way to your front door, knowing you’d still be asleep. She had the spare key to get inside, anyways.

Once inside, Yunjin took the small jewelry box containing your necklace and put it in her pocket, as well as placing the flowers on the counter. Yunjin tiptoed through the hallway, careful not to make a sound. She gently pushed open your door, revealing a scene that melted her heart. There, lying peacefully under the covers was your sleeping figure.

A tender smile graced Yunjin's lips as she observed her sleeping beauty. She couldn't help but feel a rush of overwhelming love and admiration. Kneeling beside the bed, Yunjin reached out to caress your hair, her fingertips gliding through the strands with utmost care.

As if sensing Yunjin’s presence, you stirred, slowly awakening from your blissful slumber. Your eyes fluttered open, and a tired but content smile adorned your face. Seeing Yunjin before you brought a spark of joy to your eyes.

"Hey," You murmured, your voice filled with warmth and love.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Yunjin whispered softly, her voice carrying a gentle tenderness. "Happy anniversary, my love."

Your smile widened as you stretched lazily, reaching out to pull Yunjin closer. She intertwined her fingers with yours, putting your hand on the pillow and leaning in for a soft kiss.

"I am really lucky to have you," You murmured, your voice laced with sincerity. "Thank you for being in my life."

Yunjin stayed close and she looked you deeply in the eyes, smiling fondly. "No, thank you for making every day brighter, for being the love of my life." Her voice was filled with a deep affection that resonated within their shared space.

“And thank you for allowing me to hear that beautiful voice of yours. Best thing to wake up to.” You felt your flush from realization. You completely forgot you sent her that video of you singing before you went to sleep.

“Ah..”

“Well, second best thing to wake up to. You’re first.” Yunjin spoke as she used her free hand to caress your cheek. The reason behind your flushed face was no longer from embarrassment, but instead from your girlfriend’s words.

“Just come in the bed..” You mumbled, patting the space beside you. If she wasn’t within such close proximity, she wouldn’t have heard you. Smiling, she did just that and laid on her back, turning her head in your direction. While you were beneath the covers, she was on above them, considering she was already dressed for the day.

You observed as she got comfortable before inching closer, wanting to be as close as possible, evoking a chuckle out of the raven haired girl. She happily embraced you, allowing you to rest your head on her chest.

“Do you want your gift?” Yunjin asked quietly, playing with your hair and looking up at the ceiling as she waited for your response. You hummed, not wanting to get up.

“Not at the moment. I just want to cuddle for awhile.”

Pleased with your answer, she planted a kiss on your forehead before resting her head on yours. Your breathing synced up with hers and you closed your eyes, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over you again. She knew it wouldn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, so she closed her eyes as well. You both would be able to further enjoy your anniversary when you woke up.

A/N: Thank you for the request, and love you too!!! <33

#fem reader #le sserafim #le sserafim yunjin #yunjin imagines #yunjin x reader #kpop #kpop girl groups #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim scenarios #siyooungi

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try-set-me-on-fire · 11 months

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Can I do a soft prompt not on the list ? I love your writing 😊 Buck and Eddie driving back from a zoo trip or something with Chris and Chris falling asleep in the back seat.

Going to count this under “road trip” for list checking purposes. Send me soft prompts! Find the finished ones on ao3!

Sometime in May when the end of school was weeks away but felt like eternity even to a kid who liked the place, Eddie had come home from running errands to find Buck and Chris laying out flat on the living room floor marking up a giant piece of paper. Eddie doesn’t know where they got it - it must be 18x24 at least - or why the floor was the best option for putting it to use - a mystery shortly solved by finding the remains of lunch still scattered over the kitchen table - but Eddie is careful not to step on it or any stray limb or crayon as he makes his way through to put groceries away. When anything perishable is safe someplace cold he comes back to sit between them, at the long edge of the sheet.

“What are you up to?”

“Read the paper, dad,” Chris says, exasperated. Eddie makes a face at him, and Buck tries not to laugh from his spot on the floor. The two of them share a look before Eddie puts his attention on Buck and Christopher’s work. Written at the top of the paper in chunky block letters is BIG SUMMER IDEAS, decorated by a smiling sun with cool guy shades and what Eddie assumes is a flamingo judging by the shades of pink. There’s more writing all over the page, half of it upside down because Chris is laying along the top edge. Eddie picks out BEACH DAY and GARDEN WITH PEPPA and NEW PIZZA (RESTAURANT? INVENT?) and, mirrored in both hand writings and circled twice, ZOO.

“You two aren’t sick of the zoo by now?” Eddie asks, and then raises his hands when they both look scandalized.

“Never!” Buck proclaims. “Besides, San Diego and Santa Barbara are both not that far away, we thought we’d maybe try and branch out.”

Chris nods seriously. “We need to expand our zoo repertoire,” he says, confident around the big new vocabulary word.

“Alright,” Eddie gives in, easily. “This is a big list, we gotta do all of these? I don’t know if we’ll have the time…”

Buck pushes himself up to sitting, and shrugs. “Just ideas. We were getting antsy waiting for Summer, huh?” Chris nods emphatically and Buck grins at him, before looking back at Eddie a little less sure. “Thought we’d write out some things to look forward to. We- you don’t have to do all, or any-“

“We’re definitely going to the zoo,” Chris frowns.

“Except for the zoo, of course.” He still has that look on his face, like he’s overstepped somehow, and Eddie wants to say please don’t apologize for finding a way to make Chris happy when he’s feeling down, and of course “we,” of course you’re coming with us, I haven’t the first idea how to invent new pizza.

“It’s a good list,” is what he says. “We’ll see what we can pack in there.”

That was May, and it’s the end of July now, and history books worth of things have happened in between, and Buck and Eddie’s Relationship (capital R, for Romance) is so new it’s stumbling around on doe legs. Eddie thinks they’ve spent years planting a pretty nice meadow for it to stumble around in, though, and taking his hand in public for the first time ever as they trail Chris around the Santa Barbara Zoo is easy as anything. It helps that they both start laughing - giggling, really, he’s a grown man giggling at the zoo - whenever they make eye contact. They hold hands in front of an island full of tiny little monkeys, and in a cave where you can watch penguins swim around, and by the statue of the giraffe with the crooked neck, and on the train that loops around the whole thing and gets so close to the lion enclosure that it’s almost a little frightening. They spend a fair amount of time not holding hands, too, as Buck and Chris pour over every informational plaque in the place. Eddie is perfectly content to watch them have at it and provide sunscreen reapplications and snacks, probably smiling just as sappily at his two favorite people in the world having a good time as he did at holding hands (holding hands!) with his boyfriend (boyfriend!).

They only stay at the zoo until about four, but they’d had to get up at the crack of dawn to make it up the coast in a reasonable amount of time, especially with the mess of construction Buck had to white knuckle through on the northbound 101 past Ventura. Chris is starting to wilt a little, and Eddie’s running on several cups of coffee, and even Buck has yawned once or twice by the time they’re eating an early dinner at a sandy little outdoor restaurant close to the beach outside of town. A train goes right past during the meal and all three of them stand up for a good look, Buck hefting Chris up on his back for a better vantage point. If Eddie gets distracted by watching the joy on their faces instead of the train, well, his sappiness was never going to be contained just within the walls of the zoo. He finds it a little hard to believe, sometimes, the amount of happiness he gets to experience. It jostles around inside of him like loose parts, or a bag of treasure. He’s been happy before, he’s been happy for years here in LA with the family of the 118 taking root around him, but it’s felt… more, these days, almost dizzying since he and Buck had either suddenly or finally closed the distance. It bubbles away inside of him, somewhere near Camarillo with Chris falling asleep in the back seat and pink California summer sunset light washing over them all. Buck’s got the windows rolled down just a little, to feel the air, and the radio is on low, and Eddie has been trying to leave less things unspoken, so.

“Thank you.”

Buck glances at him with a little smile, then looks back at the road. “For what?”

Eddie shrugs, because how is he supposed to encompass all of it with words? “For driving. For coming with us. For holding my hand.”

Buck’s laugh is just a soft exhale. “I should be thanking you for all that.”

“Even the driving?”

“Okay, well, the construction was bad, but yeah even the driving. You know I don’t mind it.” Buck’s smile is still small, and it feels important, suddenly, to try and get across the enormity of all this.

“Thank you for- everything, Buck. For inventing new pizza.”

Buck laughs loud, and then sheepishly checks Chris in the rear view mirror. Still sleeping. “I don’t think we’ve quite perfected it yet,” he says, quietly. “Give me a few more tries.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t know how to- the time you give us, the- everything- Do you know? How happy you make us? Make me?”

Buck glances at him, twice, three times, keeps his eyes back on the road. “It feels like…” Buck is almost whispering, and gestures at his chest. “Like that little bag of rocks Chris got at the gift shop.”

Eddie laughs, folding a little closer to Buck, because a bag of treasure, they’re sharing metaphors. “Yeah. Like that.”

“I know,” Buck says, like he can’t believe it sometimes either. “You know? Me- me too?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." There's hardly been any complete sentences in this conversation but Eddie thinks they've never really needed words to communicate anyway. He knows. Buck knows. "We've still got 23 items on the list."

Buck laughs, and lets go of the steering wheel to grab Eddie's hand again. "Well, tomorrow's a new day. Summer's not over yet."

Eddie thinks, holding Buck's hand with Chris sleeping in the back, on the road headed home, that with each other summer is never going to end.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #my writing #I feel like the two modes of my writing are ADHD or Vibey #and this straddles the two so. sorry. or you’re welcome?#also wrote part of it in the drive through of an in n out

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klbwriting · 2 months

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Our Strange Duet

Chapter 1: Getting Out of Bed

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Sequel to Not Romeo, Not Juliet - Jason Todd is off to Gotham U to make sure he has a life outside of being a vigilante. He wasn't expecting someone from his past to show up, but there she is on the first day and things have changed

Notes: Well, I was going to wait until tomorrow but I can't, I like this too much, I hope you guys enjoy!

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch

It's the bitch of living, just getting out of bed - Spring Awakening

“Jason, get up, you have class in half an hour,” Dick called up to the loft as he finished setting out the terrible eggs he made whenever Jason slept late. He sat up in bed, looking at his phone, sighing as it had no notifications, well it had one text but not from the person he wanted one from. Sydney wished him a happy first day of classes and he answered before getting dressed. He skipped the eggs, grabbing an apple and throwing out a quick bye to his brother as he headed down to the garage for his bike.

He had finished high school and after a long and drawn argument with Dick about not just living as a vigilante his whole life and maybe having some kind of day job for when his knees finally buckled under the weight of trying to save an entire city. So here he was driving his bike towards Gotham University, taking all general education courses because he had no idea what he wanted to try and do for a career. He did know that he was going to be in theater, his director from Bludhaven Prep had written him a great recommendation letter, but only if he continued to act, and honestly, he wanted to act. It was nice to become someone else, take a break from his brain. His therapist liked it also, said it helped Jason get out of his head. What he didn’t expect was walking into his first class, Modern Literature 101 and sitting by the window in the front corner, was YN.

She wasn’t looking at him, reading one of the books for the class, doing notations. After a second Jason realized he was blocking the door so he slid around to the back corner of the class, sitting before she could look up. He watched her, concentrating on her book and every single emotion he felt last year came flooding back. She had left, they kept in touch until around May and then she had vanished. He didn’t know why but he had a bad feeling about it. He wouldn’t confront her now, but he hoped he could snag her after class, speak with her, just see how she was. He stared at her until he heard his name, looking up to the professor.

“Mr. Todd?” she repeated. He smiled awkwardly, clearly having missed the first time she said his name.

“Ya that’s me,” he said. He looked down and then looked at YN who was staring back at him, eyes wide. He waved a little and she turned, facing forward again, leg starting to bounce like it did when she was anxious. The syllabus was handed out and he proceeded to ignore his teacher, instead categorizing how YN had changed in the last eight months. Hair was longer, she leaned on her hand, eyes looking tired, she had car keys sitting on her desk, so she drove now. She glanced back at him, and he tore his eyes away from her, trying to focus on class. As soon as they were dismissed he tried to bounce up and catch her but two people in front of him started talking and he couldn’t get around them fast enough. By the time he got into the hallways she was gone.

He had two other classes that day, but YN wasn’t in either of them. The only hope he had was the theater meeting that night for the Gotham U Players. They were doing a sign up and talking about their productions that year, so Jason got there early, signed up quickly and then looked around the room. He was first beside the upper classmen advisors, so he took a seat near the door. She would be here, and she wasn’t going to sneak by him again. He waited, the place filling up with other university students. They started and about three minutes into the meeting YN came in, signing up quick and sitting down two rows in front of Jason, once again preventing him from talking to her.

This was pathetic, was he going to just chase her around all year until she talked to him? He wasn’t a stalker, but he was considering seeing if Dick could get her address before he got home so that he could go knock on her door. But that would be bad. He shook himself, coming back to the meeting where they announced that the first production this year was going to be a musical. Jason’s eyebrows rose so high they probably disappeared into his hair. He had not considered a musical, ever. He looked down at YN, catching her turning to look back at him, whipping her head forward when she saw him watching.

“Auditions for Phantom of the Opera are next week, come with a song prepared and remember, if you are not cast you are part of the stage crew and we will be having you learn to be directors, sound techs, light techs, and set design so don’t be discouraged. And in the spring we will do a play so those who can’t sing will still get time on stage,” the club president announced before dismissing them. Jason once again jumped up, ready to grab her but this time she swerved him by taking a side door. He jumped a couple rows, racing out the door after her, probably looking insane, but he didn’t care.

“YN!” he called, chasing after her as she walked towards the parking lot. She took a couple steps before stopping. He ran around in front of her, panting a little from running to catch her. Why did cardio only work when he was chasing criminals?

“Hi Jason,” she said, and he could have sworn he heard angels singing in her voice. He missed it so much. “Didn’t know you were coming here.”

“Ya, well, here I am, why you trying to get away from me?” he asked. She chuckled a little, always right to the point, no small talk for him.

“I wasn’t trying to get away from you, I was surprised and was trying to figure out if you hated me. The way you were staring in class I was freaked out, you used to give that look to Chelsea and them when they annoyed you, its so intense,” she said. Jason blushed some, shrugging.

“I didn’t mean to look like that, I just…well you did kind of ghost me and it is a bit annoying,” he said. She looked down and he could have kicked himself. “But I mean, I know you probably had a reason…”

“My mom died,” she said. He froze. “The treatment in Singapore, it didn’t take. We stayed there because it would have been too destabilizing for her to travel home so the donor made sure she was comfortable there until the end and then I came back in May.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. She bit her lip, wiping her eyes quick.

“I wasn’t in a good headspace at the time. I came back and I thought about calling you, but then I found Sydney’s social media and saw you guys together and figured you didn’t need me coming in and ruining that with my grief. I figured you had moved on I should too,” she explained. O no. He hung his head a little.

“I was never dating Sydney,” he said. “She um, is not exactly into guys.” Her eyes looked up at him. “She mostly posted pictures with me to make Jackson leave her alone until graduation.” YN blushed.

“Well don’t I feel petty, jealous, and stupid,” she said. Jason laughed. “Well, either way I still wasn’t in a good headspace, I needed counseling and to figure myself out before school started. I promised my mom I would go to school no matter what, so here I am.”

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

“I have an apartment off campus in Old Gotham, the grant money from the Leading Lady award should pay for it and my school for a year and then I’ll figure something else out,” she explained. “What about you? Still living with Dick?”

“Ya, still living with Dick,” he said. “Um, would you maybe want to hang out sometime?” She looked worried, biting her lip. He was tempted to kiss her but had to pull himself back. She was different now, he was different now, who knows how much that changed how they felt about each other.

“Sure, I’m free this weekend, still trying to get a new job since the pool I worked at in the summer is closed now,” she said. He nodded. “Let me give you my new number, I had to change it because Maroni kept calling.”

“So, you’re not next in line in the family yet?” he asked as she put her number into his phone.

“God no, he contacted me, tried to convince me to join him but had no leverage since my mom was being taken care of,” she said. Jason motioned for her to walk to the lot, walking with her to her car. It looked a bit like a death trap. “Its not much but it runs. You still on the bikes?” He pointed to his bike a few spaces down. “Thought that was yours when I got here. Do you still do the other stuff you did?” She tapped her head and he assumed she meant being Red Hood.

“Ya, nightly,” he answered. She smirked a little. “But now I have to have Dick stitch me up, so much less cool scars.”

“You needed someone better than me for that,” she said. He shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around. Text me, ok?” He nodded and watched her drive away. His heart sped up a little when he thought about the fact that he was going to be able to see her at least a few times a week, maybe every day. He hadn’t thought college would be that exciting, but things were about to change, he could feel it.

#jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #redhood #red hood #red hood x y/n #strangeduet

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ambassadorarlert · 8 months

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self-ship coded, but anyone can enjoy. <3 i’m still really hung up on armin being your secret admirer. and you finding out it’s him can go two ways:

1. he confesses

telling you that he’s been the one leaving flowers and little poems for months was easier said than done. armin had a lapse of judgement, thought that yearning from the sidelines wasn’t enough and he was done with being a ghost. his confidence was short lived, because now that you were standing in front of him, confused and not catching on to what he’s saying, he wanted to crawl away and hide. this was such a bad idea. you’d be disappointed and weirded out that it’s been him this whole time.

“I, um, I wanted t-to tell you that it’s been m-me. leaving stuff for you.” he sputtered, words falling out of his mouth without thinking it through. he wanted to say something more romantic, like in his poems. you thought it was just a crazy coincidence, that armin was at the same place at the same time the note wedged in between your door said to meet up at. everything became so much clearer. the sonnets were so sweet and seemed so personal, decorated with words only an intelligent person like him would say. they were never creepy or intrusive. armin made them personal and put a lot of thought into everything he had written.

“oh, of course!” you smiled, your face lighting up with amusement and satisfaction. you now knew who the mysterious guy was. you immediately pulled him in for a hug, not hesitating or even thinking twice about it. armin was too stunned to reciprocate the affection, even though he had been longing for some kind of physical contact with you for a while.

“you’re not… upset…?” he questioned. he had envisioned everything going so badly, he didn’t anticipate you’d be happy. excited?

“no way.” you chuckled into his shoulder and squeezed him tighter. whatever was to happen now, you fully accepted it. armin wasn’t just nice. he was kind and gentle, never having a bad thing to say about anyone or anything. armin was intelligent and quick witted. not much could be said for the other folks you’ve been dating on and off. it wouldn’t be right to pass up on someone you knew would treat you with dignity and respect.

“I’m s-so glad.” he sighed. he didn’t even realize he had been holding his breath since before you had even gotten there. the sudden boost of oxygen kickstarted his brain, and he embraced you in his arms in the way he always wanted.

2. he gets caught.

you really weren’t trying to be nosy. your intentions were pure, only wanting to return the journal to its owner. but, in order to get a clue on who it belonged to, you had to open it. you flipped through the pages, not reading anything, just searching for a name anywhere.

you suddenly couldn’t put it down. you noticed a pattern in the way the i’s were dotted, the way this person crossed their t’s and looped their g’s, j’s, and y’s. whoever this journal belonged to was the same person who had been leaving you notes in odd places. places they knew you’d find them. you had been receiving anonymous letters, notes, and poems for months. it was driving you crazy, not knowing who the person was. and now you were one step closer.

you immediately turned to the front inside, searching for a name. on the back cover, in the corner, and in the smallest handwriting that matched the penmanship on the pages and in your messages, was the name armin arlert. you couldn’t retain the shocked gasp you released. you needed to find him, give him his journal back, but then what. he would definitely be humiliated if you said you knew he was your secret admirer, even more so if you mentioned that you looked inside of it. and besides, you and armin were just friends. what would happen next of the topic was brought up?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for this! I thought it was gone for good, thank you!” armin practically snatched the journal from your hand. he clutched it to his chest, then opened and flicked through the pages with his thumb as of to see if anything was ripped out or missing. you smiled, swallowing back the truth armin didn’t know that you knew.

“how did you, uh, know this was mine?” he asked. armin’s shoulders stiffened, waiting for your response.

“it wasn’t hard to figure it out. your name is written in the back, so…” you trailed off and shrugged. armin nodded, believing in half of the facts you divulged.

“thanks for not going all through it. t-there’s some… really personal stuff in here.” his smile was wide and genuine, trifle grateful for your honest deed.

you watched armin strategically stack his journal along with his other books he was carrying. you made the decision then and there to not say anything about knowing he was your closeted fan. the fact that he would be embarrassed beyond life itself was obvious. armin was a shy guy. you hardly ever saw him talk to girls that weren’t you, or sasha, or mikasa. and he never talked about dating, or having a girlfriend. with his anxious disposition, girls weren't a thing that came easily to him. perhaps it was better if armin came forward about his feelings in his own time, rather than being found out and confronted on the spot.

“yeah, of course. no problem.” you bit your tongue and patted him on the back.

2023. do not copy or repost any work by arlertwitch on any other platform. violators will be prosecuted.

#my writing #armin arlert #armin fluff #armin imagine #armin drabble #armin one shot #armin fic #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin x male reader #armin x black reader #armin x reader #armin x fem reader #armin x gn reader #Armin x gender neutral reader

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inlocusmads · 4 months

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hello, goodbye ~ jimmy rose

Jimmy writes a letter to his daughter, in the off-chance he doesn't come home. (crimes of passion)

wc: 949; teen and up

written for @choicesjanuary2024 day 10: Write a letter from one character to another.

a/n: just a really quick drabble to get me out of a slump - both in writing and well, everything lol

Nora,

Everything sucks, huh?

That is a terrible way to probably start this letter, but oh well. Herman, you know, the friend of mine who bought you that Tiana mug, tells me I’ve got to write a letter to my family and friends just in case I don’t come home. It is no military, sure, but being put in active danger everyday makes you want to write a little something just in case the worst thing happens.

It’s not going to happen. I doubt you’d read this.

If you do, here’s some life advice for when you turn twenty. I don’t know how old you would be if you read this, but I hope it is an age less than 20, because then there’s no point to this. You’d have learned everything already. Still, life advice is why I’m here. Besides driving you to soccer practice and waiting for you to score a goal.

I do hope you get better at soccer though. Exactly why I keep telling you - do your jumping jacks.

Back to life advice. I’ll keep this thing short because granted if you’re anything like me or Mom, you’d have given up reading this. Mom never liked stalling for time and long emails were no picnic for me either.

Anyway, life advice’s particularly useful if your life is sucky right now. So I hope it is. Not like that, but in a way you could really use some advice.

One: You’re going to need to hydrate. Fill up a flask with water. Good. Stick with it. Water’s your best friend if you ever plan on not fainting. Also, way less damaging for your gut. Whatever happens - even if you are in the middle of something horrible, look for water. Drink responsibly, you know the rest. Not water, though. Don’t skimp on that.

Two: I did not think this through. So when you’re writing a letter - or typing it - think everything through.

Three: You don’t have to get into medicine. Any Ivy League program works.

Kidding. I am, of course, kidding. I would hate to tell you to ‘do what you love’ because if that’s the case, I’m raising a future gambler with all of your trading cards and everything. I just want you to be able to find something you have the drive for.

Not what you love doing, because that stuff changes everyday. I want you to be able to find a consistent drive for something. Not because Maddy or Tracie or anyone else told you to do so. Or randomly picking a job from a website. I don’t want you to completely love what you’re doing, but if you’re going to wholly hate something, you might as well do it more efficiently and not pursue that any longer.

Four: Money management is everything. Get a ledger when you start earning and keep track of your expenses. I don’t want you to get caught up in the whole whirlwind in your 20s and get a house and fill it with voidless decor. New York’s expensive living. Getting four jobs to ensure you come home to mahogany furniture is less than ideal. I want you to be able to sit out of the water, rather than keep your head up just to breathe while everything drowns around you. That’s a really good metaphor. The point is, don’t screw around with money. Get frugal for a bit until you feel secure. That a coffee from a cafe isn’t going to ruin your weekly bills. That splurging on the good kind of produce isn’t going to make you feel guilty, you skip meals to cut costs.

I can’t offer good advice on this. I doubt anyone else can either, so it will be a bit of trial and error at first. You’ve got to figure out what’s important to you. That’s going to take you a while to figure it out.

Five: I don’t know what the future is going to look like. I don’t know if you’d get a Secret Service job for instance, or if you’d get married or date or do any of that. I have no idea if you’re going to even say, move to the middle of a farm and raise chickens, but I do hope you know I’ll try my hardest to be there for you. Doesn’t matter if you need me or not, if you’re going to punch me square in the shoulder and roll your eyes, but I want to be there for whatever incredible or horrible decisions you make.

If I’m not there, well, pretend I am.

I’m watching.

Kidding. Seriously Nora, don’t do drugs. Not worth it. Not even a weed brownie. I’m serious on this one, kid. If I ever find out, the grave won’t stop me. Everything might “suck” now, but all you need in the world are a couple of prayers, three meals a day and a good movie. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is my favorite. I think your Mother would have liked that too.

Also, keep in touch with family. Whether it be in Hong Kong or right next door in New York, don’t give up on family. My biggest regret is that I didn’t spend time with my cousins or aunts or uncles growing up. I think I would have had a very different life had I just talked to them. I hope you have that too- any kind of support system, really.

If you can’t find one, be one yourself. I know you’re strong enough for that, if you just got your head out of trading cards.

Just be kind, all right?

Dad.

***

Tagging:

perma: @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam @stars-are-within-me

crimes: @trappedinfanfiction @ao719 @cassie-thorne @peonierose @moominofthevalley @jerzwriter

#crimes of passion #jimmy rose #w:inlocusmads #choices january 2024 challenge #nora rose #trystan x nora

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hyunsuks-beanie · 2 years

Text

Fuck Me Daddy

Pairing: Jay x reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Inebriation; smut; mentions of boners; use of the words "Angel," "Daddy" and "Princess;" oral (m. and f. receiving); unprotected sex; dirty thoughts; choking

Part of: Mellow's You've Got A Letter Event

Mellow speaks: It's here!! The first fic for my 2.5 follower event!! Thank you to the nonnie who had requested this!! I'm so excited for this!

Tagging: @yedammi @axartia @sweethyuka @ivyvesisi

Hey angel,

How are you today? I'm sorry I had to leave before you could wake up, work called :(

I hope you had a good night's sleep yesterday. Going out partying with your friends must have been tiring but fun, right? I'm hoping your head doesn't hurt, but I've kept some painkillers and a bottle of water next to this note just in case.

I didn't get to tell you this yesterday, mainly because the both of us were rather preoccupied with......other things. But you looked absolutely stunning in that little dress of yours, and the way you slurred on your words and puffed up your flushed cheeks did all kinds of things to my heart. You need to wear that dress again sometime, when it's just the two of us, so that I can tell you just how beautiful it looked on you.

Now, I think I've set the mood just right, and I'm running out of cute things to say to you anyway. So I guess it's time to launch into the real reason I've written you this note. You passed out last night just as I was about to drive you home, but do you remember what you said to me right before drifting off to sleep?

Of course you don't. So let me elaborate.

It was something along the lines of "Fuck me, daddy." Screw that, it was exactly those three words. Those three filthy words, barely coherent as you had reached across the console, placing your hand on my thigh in a way you wouldn't even dream of when sober. Your eyes hooded, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. In that moment, you looked like the personification of lust, and I lie not when I say that it made something twitch inside my jeans.

You looked so fucking hot like that, it made me want to rip that dress off your body and pound into you on the backseat. But your pretty, dirty, mind, obviously had different plans, because just when I was about to lean in and place my lips on yours, you decided to ruin the moment, passing out against my shoulder.

Can you imagine how mad I was just then? Do you have any fucking idea? No, right? But it wasn't like I could do anything about it, other than watching you sleep peacefully after taking my peace away. At least you looked cute, so I'll have to give you that, but in no way does that mean I didn't keep tossing and turning in bed all night.

Removing your makeup and changing you out of that damned dress was nothing if not torture, and I think you ought to know just how annoying it was to get a boner at the sight of you in your lingerie, my hands being the only thing I could use to relieve the pent-up frustration. And as if that wasn't enough, having your body pressed so close against mine was yet another ordeal, my tongue longing to get a taste of that sweet pussy.

But why am I telling you all this?

Because princess, I want you to gulp as you read this, and think of how I'm going to punish you when I come home. You wanted daddy to fuck you, right? Well, guess what? Daddy is going to do just that. He's going to kiss those pretty lips of yours until you're breathless. He's going to touch you. Touch you in the slowest way possible, touch you at all the right places.

He's going to peel his clothes off your body, piece by piece, until you're buck naked under him. He's going to kiss your skin, make you feel good, and mark you up until you're covered in bites and bruises. He's going to part your legs, nice and slow, his tongue slitting across your heat and licking off your juices while all you can do is moan and whine. He's going to eat you out and touch you, so good that you forget your name, so good that tears stream down your cheeks as you cum for the fifth time.

And then he's going to make you choke on his cock, making you taste your own salty tears as you swallow his cum. He's going to sit you down on the floor and have you worship his dick like the slut you are. Because that's just what you deserve. Don't even think that's all, because after you're all spent from the foreplay, daddy is going to tie you up. Real good so that you can't move, making your wrists struggle against the satin as he finally bottoms out inside you, no protection at hand.

He's going to place his hand on your throat and choke you till you can't breathe, he's going to ram into you till that pussy is sore. He's going to fill you up to the brim, again and again, till you're squirming and spilling onto the bedsheet.

So get ready, my angel. Wear that lingerie of yours I love, and look pretty for me when I come home. Because I'm going to ruin you tonight.

Love,

Your Daddy, Jay

#jay smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen writers #sunghoon suggestive #jay suggestive #enhypen smut #jake #sunghoon #jay #heeseung smut #enhypen suggestive #jake smut #jake suggestive #heeseung #enhypen hard hours

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enchantedchocolatebars · 5 months

Note

I need hurt/reallyFluffycomfort rn:

Beardo Philip and Camilla favouring Alma more, and Luz feels awful. Make sure it has a happy ending too!

A Wonderful Person And Daughter

(Based on these au headcanons by @livvychoclate)

Tears were streaming down Luz's cheeks as she packed the essentials she needed in her backpack while in her bedroom at night: snacks, money, extra clothes, her anime jacket, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and soap.

She also slipped in her Azura book so that she'd have something to read while on the road.

The teen was planning on running away from home and finding a new town to live in.

Luz really loved her mother with all her heart and she was slowly, but surely, starting to warm up to the idea of Beardo Philip being her stepdad.

However, ever since Alma, her little sister, came into the family, she's been feeling especially left out.

Alma received so much attention from Philip and Camila that they rarely had time to spend with Luz.

Their lack of nerdy activities together made Luz wonder if they had as much love for her as they did for Alma.

Luz's third sibling, a newborn, only added to her feeling of isolation from Philip and Camila, as he received the most attention.

Luz had a love for both her siblings, but she didn't enjoy feeling alone.

It was impossible for Luz not to blame herself.

She must have done something wrong for Camila and Philip to stop caring about her.

Perhaps it was due to her being the only child from her mother's previous relationship.

She felt like a mistake.

Putting both arms through the shoulder straps of her backpack, Luz headed towards the door and opened it.

"Goodbye," She whispered sadly as she took one last look at her room before closing the door.

...

While seated at the dining room table, Luz began to compose a goodbye letter with a pencil.

She sniffled as she wrote it, trying to avoid wetting the paper with her tears.

The letter was concise.

Dear Mom and Philip, I'm sorry for being such a horrible person and daughter. I plan on taking the bus to a new town. I'll miss you both.

- Luz

After writing the letter, Luz opened the front door and left on her own.

Her departure left her with tears in her eyes that spilled over her waterline and sorrowful sobs that clawed their way up her throat.

...

Philip and Camila were in a blissful state of sleep while their newborn rested between them as they snuggled in bed.

When Philip slowly awoke, opening his eyes, he turned towards his beautiful wife and baby, and couldn't help but smile softly at both of them.

"I'll be right back," He gently whispered to them as he got up and went downstairs for a glass of water.

...

Flicking the kitchen light switch, Philip walked towards the cabinet and opened it, grabbing a glass cup.

Approaching the sink, he turns on the water and fills his cup with an appropriate amount.

He then turns the faucet off.

As Philip drew his cup to his lips, he noticed a piece of paper lying on top of the dining room table.

Setting his cup down on the counter, he walked over to the table and picked up the writing paper.

Philip's blue eyes widened as he scanned the heart-wrenching words that were written down and immediately rushed out of the front door without delay, nearly forgetting to close it.

...

As her backpack sat beside her on the bus, Luz sighs in sadness.

She really was going to miss Gravesfield.

"Luz!" Her ears perk up at the sound of a male voice calling out to her from outside.

The tone was filled with agony.

"Huh?" As Luz looks out of her window, she sees Philip running on the sidewalk after the bus with a panicked look on his face.

"Philip?" Luz whispered as she got out of her seat.

"Wait, stop! I wanna get off!"

The bus driver stops the bus and Luz runs down the aisle and jumps off.

Luz then feels a tight hug from a set of arms as the bus begins to drive away.

"Oh, Luz," Philip began with a soft whisper, "Please refrain from scaring me like that again. Your Mother and I have a deep love for you. You are a wonderful person and daughter, and I consider you a blessing in my life."

Philip had no idea that Luz felt that way.

He planned to arrange a time tomorrow for him, her, and Camila to converse.

Building a more open and stable relationship with his oldest was Philip's objective.

"I'm sorry, Phili--" Luz corrected herself with a sniffle. "Dad. And thank you."

She sniffled again, hugging her father tightly. "I love you."

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softguarnere · 1 year

Note

Hiya bestie!! So this is totally just a Thought ™️ but whenever you get a chance, could you please write a "Wait For Me" from Hadestown-type vibe where the only thoughts that keep Lieb going during the hell that is Bastogne are thoughts of the girl he left behind and thoughts about their talks during better times or letters maybe, about how he'll find his way back to her no matter what because she's his bashert (Yiddish for his destiny, fated one/soulmate)!

Idk, we just need more Yiddish-speaking Joe in the world 🤭

Thank you so much in advance!! 💖

A/N: Aly my dear, I have been obsessed with this idea since we talked about it way back last month. I'm so sorry about the wait (school and life have both been crazy), and thank you so much for your patience! 🫶🏼 You are absolutely right: this fandom needs more Yiddish speaking Joe! Let this man connect with his roots!!!! 👏🏼 I'm sorry it's short, but I hope you like it bestie 💖

(This is written for the fictional depiction from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) 💕🕊️

Warnings: mentions of war, some religious imagery/ideas

Miracle of Miracles

Joe Liebgott x reader

Actions speak louder than words, his father had taught him from a young age. And that lesson wasn't all talk, either - Joe had seen his dad surprise his mom with enough flowers, help her carry groceries unasked, and surprise her by making dinner for their family enough times to see the I love yous displayed in every little move.

And that's just fine with him; he's never been too good with his words, so he's all about action.

Yet with all the distance between the two of you, it's now words that speak to Joe. Your words, from your letters. The letters that he keeps in his pocket at all times. The letters that he reads every night to feel closer to you.

You - the only thought that keeps him going in this place.

He keeps telling himself that if things would calm down for just a second, then he would be able to put his pen to the page and write you back.

Except this early night, for once, is quiet after the nightmarish events of the day. He's hunkered down in his foxhole, leaning against the hardness of the packed earth behind him, trying to find some semblance of warmth, and he can't figure out what to say.

Plenty of thoughts swirl around his head. Awful, horrifying thoughts of the things that he's seen since coming to this frozen hell. Terrible memories of trees exploding and his fellow soldiers sliding into foxholes as screams of terror and pain ring out across the landscape.

Okay, so there are thoughts, but they're definitely not the type that he should be sharing with you.

Part of him wishes that you were there. To hold, to talk to. It's actually better that you're not stuck in a place like Bastogne with him, though. You're the antithesis of the forest he's found himself in - he doesn't even want to imagine the sunlight and warmth that emanate from your soul being snuffed out in the dark gloom of the foxholes.

He has your letters. Enough heat is carried in your words to see him through.

See him through. That's his favorite thought: the idea that holding onto memories of you will get him through this whole thing in one piece - God walking Daniel through the lion's den. Because if he can just survive Bastogne, he's pretty sure the promise of seeing you again will drive him through the rest of the war, like some sort of miracle. Whenever he reads your words he can practically hear your voice and see your smile already.

Dear Liebling, all your letters begin. And all end with, I'm still here - waiting for you.

For him. A wonder. A miracle. How did he get so lucky? From the first time your eyes met, he felt like something in his soul recognized something in yours. It felt like it was meant to be; fated since the beginning of time, like he would find you in this or any other lifetime - his bashert . . . his soulmate.

And he's coming back to you if it's the last thing he ever does.

It's been so long since he's seen you. So long since he's been able to properly write to you. If he were back home, he would have surprised you with a bouquet of flowers tonight, and tomorrow he would be making you breakfast - I love you I love you I love you punctuating every movement, every glance, every smile.

But your not here and he's not there. That means there's only one way for him to show you all the love he carries just for you.

Shivering, he pulls out a piece of spare paper and unfolds it, propping it against his knee as he squints to see it through the growing darkness. He blows on his hands and rubs them together to warm them up while he thinks.

Finally, he puts his pen to the paper and just does it - which is arguably what he's always done best. After all, you're his fated one, his destiny. Your soul is like a reflection of his. If anyone will understand what he's trying to say, it will be you.

Dear (Y/N), he begins. Have I ever told you that I've loved you since before the beginning of time?

#my brain just rotates between singing miracle of miracles and wait for me while I write this #had a spare second in between classes today and finally got to work on this #let dove write something other than essays and book reviews!!#anyway I'm going insane and writing this was a nice distraction 🫶🏼😌#joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #my writing #band of brothers imagine #hbo war fanfic

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translatemunson · 1 year

Text

track three — the ex tapes

warnings: not proofread. this is not a fluff series, so be ready for some angst and angry characters.

author's note: thanks for all the love these past few chapters! i'm thinking of taking some requests on scenes/drabbles you'd like to read about this series, what do you think? send your ideas my way via ask or message me!

series masterlist

Eddie didn’t call you again. He went silent. Yeah, that was definitely a goodbye.

This was one of those days where the connection wasn’t there. The artist you worked with gave you some trouble when trying to find the subject of the song. You’ve talked for hours, he asked his assistant to get you some coffee and cookies from a nearby cafe, but even after all of that, he couldn’t give you enough material to start based on his experience.

You wrote a verse and a chorus you are not proud of, leaving the rest for another session. But you’re not sure if this was going to happen. He felt a bit off, you knew when people didn’t want to open themselves up, for whatever reason.

Perhaps it was your fault. You were so connected to your personal story that everything was distant. You drive back home listening to your classical music tape, letting the harmonies and crescendos get the ideas out of your mind.

You don’t recognize the black car parked a few spots to the left of Steve’s car. You’ve been living in this building long enough to know everyone else’s cars. New neighbors? No, you weren’t aware of people moving in for a while now.

You gather your things and go up the stairs to the third floor. Everything is calm.

“Stevie! Wanna order some pizza?” You unlock the door and meet with a very serious Steve staring at the person on your couch. Black jeans, denim vest and jacket, dark curls. “What’s this? Why did you let him in?”

Both boys look in your direction. You cross your arms in front of your chest, your guitar case on your feet.

“I think you should talk.” He motions to Eddie to stay in his place.

“Steve-”

“Think of your career, ok? I’ll be in my room,” he walks to you and hugs you. “Try not to kill each other. Scream if you need me to kick him out.”

Steve leaves you alone, locking the door to his room — you bet he’s gonna eavesdrop on your conversation, whether you like it or not. You put your things on the table and let a deep sight cut through your silence.

“What are you doing here, Munson? No, what do you really want from me? Wasn’t leaving me behind like we were nothing enough?”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“I know, you said it a few nights ago. But I’m not buying it. How did you find me?”

Eddie looks in the direction of Steve’s room and you feel a little betrayed. You knew Steve would do anything for you, to protect you. And maybe you were too drunk when he arrived after the phone call and you poured your heart out telling him you wished things ended up differently. But you were too hurt, too afraid to let him closer again.

“Sorry, I-”

“You don’t mean it, so shut it. You never returned my calls, or my letters, or even let me know when you were in town so we could have a decent conversation. And now it’s too late.”

“You wanted closure? Do you even know what it means? Because to keep writing our story on people’s songs isn’t closure.”

“Like you’ve never written something about us as well. You can’t change my mind, Munson: I’m not writing with you. Now leave me alone.”

Eddie stands up, but doesn’t go for the door. He takes some bold steps until you’re close.

“You left me in the studio, was it some kind of twisted payback?”

“You broke my fucking heart, Eddie! Making you pay for the studio rent is nothing compared to what you’ve done to me!”

“Well, isn't it funny that you’re working in the same field as me? It’s like you were hoping this would happen.”

“Idiot, I’ve been writing songs and poems for ages! Who gave you the poem that inspired your first hit?” He doesn’t answer, well aware of the day you gave him an envelope with the poem inside. “Why did you use it anyway?”

“Because it was good, Y/N, really good. Can we please put those things behind and talk about our jobs? Because I really need to write this song, and you’re the only person that can understand me.”

You don’t understand me, he said that before you left the trailer in a hurry. It’s been like six years since that night, and you still feel it hunting you. Because you know you were wrong, but you were also young and too eager to get it.

You wanted to move to Chicago, to attend college, to live with Eddie in a small apartment. But you weren’t on the same page. He didn’t see how leaving somewhere else would be good, how he could keep playing with the band. According to him, you had everything you needed in Hawkins.

You had this huge fight. Screaming at each other how things were going to be better, new opportunities and everything else. To him, studying was a waste of time. To you, his band was a waste of time. In the end, you left the trailer after getting tired of all of his bullshit.

When you returned a few days later, he was gone. He moved to Los Angeles, they got a record deal, Wayne explained to you. He gave you his number and new address, and God knows you’ve tried to talk to him, at least to say you were sorry and you wanted to try long distance before ending things up.

He ended things before you could try.

“It has to be you, Y/N. I’ve tried with others, they don’t get it like you do. Please.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I can’t.”

You take a paper from the table and start writing down all the songwriters you’ve worked with and could help him, maybe would be honored to work with him. Because you know you can’t go in a studio with him, write down his feelings and walk away without feeling hurt. The song would play everywhere and it would sink the knife deeper.

You offer the paper. Eddie takes it but doesn’t give it a look, shoving it in his pocket right away.

“Please.”

You start crying, your memories making you go back to that night in the trailer. You’ve seen this film before, he’s gonna leave you again and again.

Eddie brings you to his chest in a warm hug. You inhale his scent: cigarettes, maybe coffee and some fancy cologne. Time was good with him. You hug him back stronger, wishing things were different in the past. He doesn’t let you go until he’s sure you’ve calmed down.

“I’m so sorry that I left you. I really am.” He holds your face gently, sweeping the tears away. “Back then I thought that I always had to choose, and I didn’t want to do it because I really wanted to be with you, but music means everything to me. And then we fought and I had a good reason to run away. But you didn’t deserve it, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“I know, Eddie. But I have my fair share of guilt,” you cover his hands with yours. You wished you did this sooner, found your way to Eddie sooner. “I wanted you to leave everything for me, without thinking about other ways we could do it. And when I did, it was too late.”

He holds your shoulders. “Let’s call it a truce? Just for the sake of our jobs. We write the song, I give you a huge cut from the money and we can follow our own ways.”

“You can’t tell people that Charlie Rogers is your ex, because I really don’t wanna be Eddie Munson’s ex,” you add to the deal.

“Sure.” Your proudness is always showing, but he agrees with you: you’ve built your career by yourself, not by being someone’s ex. “Anything else?”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, love.”

“I can fit you in my schedule.”

“Great,” he claps his hands, satisfied, “if you wanna work in a specific studio, let my manager know, he can arrange that.”

“Nah, choose your favorite and we’ll be fine.”

“Right, ok,” he smiles and leans in. “So see you soon?”

“On thursday, probably. I’ll have to cancel with Madonna, but that’s fine.”

“Madonna? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it's the third time we’ll work together. I can fit her somewhere else,” you say like it’s nothing. “Clean your schedule for me, rockstar, and meet me here at eight. And make sure to rent the studio for noon. There’s something we need to do before our writing session.”

“‘K, I’ll be here.”

“Ok.”

But none of you move. His big brown eyes don’t leave yours, you can’t break the contact. Reality is hitting you in the middle of your face. The thing you asked for years is happening. Eddie is here.

A door is opened and you hear footsteps.

“Erm, I thought you killed each other,” Steve cleans his throat.

You break the contact first. Eddie puts a cheeky smile on his face and walks to the door.

“See you on thursday. Bye, Steve.”

“See ya, Munson,” Steve does the honors of letting Eddie out. As soon as he closes the door, his eyes find you. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” You take your stuff and walk to your room. “Please, leave me alone tonight.”

“I’ll make dinner for you.”

“No need.”

“Y/N,” he’s already worried about you.

“I need a moment alone, Harrington. Talk to you tomorrow.”

taglist: @@lokiofasgard616 @munsonology

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #rockstar!eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #songwriter!reader x eddie munson #songwriter!reader x rockstar!eddie munson

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reasoningdaily · 11 months

Text

NPR: Two missing men, one deputy, zero charged. What happened?

Marcia Williams reacts after an unidentified person comes forward with information about the disappearances during a press conference in 2013.

William DeShazer/Naples Daily News

The Last Ride investigates a disturbing mystery, examines systemic problems in media and policing and illuminates the deep wounds that are left when no one is held accountable. Listen to The Last Ride on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

Nearly two decades ago, I was searching through my Southwest Florida newspaper's archives and spotted this tragic headline:

Has anyone seen my son?

It topped a 2004 letter to the editor written by Marcia Williams.

Her letter read, in part:

The letter, buried on page D17 of the Naples Daily News, was stunning for many reasons.

Steven Calkins is seen in 1999, at the scene where a boat fell off a trailer and blocked traffic. Michel Fortier/Naples Daily News hide caption

Three months earlier, in October 2003, on the same street in Naples, Felipe Santos vanished after getting into the same deputy's patrol car. Both men were driving illegally. Instead of taking them to jail, Calkins said he dropped them off at different Circle-K stores. But his stories could never be backed up.

Marcia Williams didn't know about the disappearance of Felipe Santos when she wrote the letter, but her plea helped to connect the hurting families.

As the story coalesced — two missing men, one deputy, zero charged — another stunning aspect was that there was so little media coverage. It was straight out of the "missing white woman syndrome" lesson from journalism school on how media often fail missing people of color while saturating coverage on young, pretty missing white women.

The Last Ride is a podcast that examines systemic problems in media and policing and illuminates the deep wounds that are left when no one is held accountable. Listen on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

The letter from Terrance's mother led to one of my first investigative stories as a young reporter. I've followed the mystery throughout my career. Over the years, my colleagues and I sought to tell the haunting story of these Florida disappearances in a more impactful way, especially once previously confidential audio and case notes were released.

The disappearances gnawed at the families, the police, us, and our community. Maybe a podcast could get the cases to more people? Spur new ideas? Jostle memories?

The Last Ride, an eight-episode deep dive into the mystery, is the result.

'I'm not going to give up'

I met Marcia Williams in 2005.

When I interviewed her, I recall seeing boxes of her son's belongings in her Naples home. A suede coat. A Ralph Lauren shirt with the tag still attached. All just left behind. "I pray every night. I know God is tired of me," she said then. "I'm not going to give up."

Terrance Williams' mother, Marcia Williams, sits in her apartment surrounded by some of his possessions, which fill a corner of her dining room.

David Ahntholz/Naples Daily News

I also interviewed Felipe Santos' father. He told me Felipe came to the United States from Mexico at 19 with dreams of making money and starting a family. And, in the news reports I've dug up, I still look to be the last reporter who interviewed Calkins.

I think he only talked to me back then because I dropped in the fact that we share a hometown in rural Illinois.

"I didn't do anything wrong," he told me as his children played in the yard of his Naples home.

Struggling to get attention on the case

In the many years since, there have been several major developments.

Filmmaker Tyler Perry became an advocate for the families of the missing men and offered a reward for tips. Perry stood with Marcia Williams at a 2018 press conference and underscored how hard it was to draw media interest to the disappearances.

"When somebody goes missing and they are a blue-eyed, blonde woman, it's all over the news," Perry said at the time. "This woman has been struggling privately for many, many years just to get attention."

Media mogul Tyler Perry, left, holds the hand of Terrance Williams' mother, Marcia Williams. At the time, Perry offered a $100,000 reward for information solving the missing persons case of Terrance Williams and Felipe Santos. He later increased the offer to $200,000.

William DeShazer/Naples Daily News

When we were putting together The Last Ride, the 2021 disappearance of 22-year-old Gabby Petito dominated headlines. Stories of her disappearance, the discovery of her remains and the search for her boyfriend, who killed her and then himself, were immediate and nonstop.

The difference in coverage between her disappearance and the missing men was stark.

In 2022, The Columbia Journalism Review came out with a tool that uses data to analyze such disparities. Many people in the media are aware of these disparities but haven't bothered or figured out how to fix them.

Most missing people are found quickly. So, it's understandable that the media doesn't cover all of them. Yet I have firsthand experience of witnessing when they — we — should have.

The pursuit for answers

A woman holds a sign for Felipe Santos during a remembrance ceremony for missing persons at Cambier Park in Naples on Oct. 25, 2017.

Nicole Raucheisen/Naples Daily News

Attorney Ben Crump announced the suit at the 2018 Naples press conference: "This lawsuit is going to formally say, what people have been informally saying, and that is that he intentionally murdered Terrance Williams and Felipe Santos."

Around that time, my colleagues and I started reporting The Last Ride. Veteran reporters Ryan Mills and Melanie Payne were just as haunted by the cases. Why were they never solved? Did law enforcement drop the ball? Did we?

Our pursuit of answers went from Florida to Tennessee to Illinois to Iowa. We interviewed investigators, witnesses, Tyler Perry, Ben Crump and advocates and relatives of the missing men. We scrutinized hundreds of pages of records. And we followed the civil suit to its abrupt conclusion. Steven Calkins successfully fought the suit. The podcast features compelling court audio, dramatic polygraphs and questioning of Calkins.

This mystery began as a local story, but the issues are universal.

Janine Zeitlin is the host of The Last Ride and an award-winning Florida journalist.

The Last Ride is distributed by the NPR Network, reported by veteran journalists with the Naples Daily News and The Fort Myers News-Press, part of the USA Today Network, and produced in partnership with WGCU Public Media. Listen on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

#The Last Ride #Two missing men #one deputy #zero charged. What happened?#florida #cops #Black Lives Matter #Terrance Williams #Filipe Santos

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pers-books · 25 days

Text

20 Questions fic writers' Q&A. I was tagged by @meluisart (thanks pal - sorry I forgot to mention that in the first version of this post!)

1 - How many works do you have on AO3?

661 (one more than the last time I did this meme in Nov 2023!)

2 - What's your total AO3 word count?

2,444,608

3 - What fandoms do you write for?

Most recently Berena (Holby City) and Original Fiction. But I’ve written very little since losing my mum in April 2023.

4 - What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Letters to a Naturalist (Holby City) (30,350 words)

Jason Haynes: Matchmaker (Holby City) (17,560 words)

The Red String of Fate (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)) (51,896 words)

One Life Stand (Holby City) (33,815 words)

The Hacktivist, The Agent, and the Clairvoyant (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Thor (Movies)) (35,849 words)

5 - Do you respond to comments?

Hell yes, always.

6 - What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Still this one:

Lascia Ch'io Pianga (Let Me Lament My Cruel Fate) for the James Bond (Movies) fandom. Although it does have an ambiguous ending, almost everyone who commented on it said they assumed that Bond & M both died.

7 - What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The vast majority of them have happy endings as I rarely write sad ones.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Used to back in the day when I wrote Ten/Martha fic for Doctor Who. There were a lot of Doctor/Rose shippers who hated my pairing with a passion and didn’t hesitate to share that hate instead of just staying in their fucking lane and using the back button/scroll button. Bunch of snowflakes.

9. Do you write smut?

Used to, not so much lately.

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

I have done, yes. The craziest one is probably the Doctor Who x Wallace & Gromit one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup - a few years ago someone translated one of mine into Russian.

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

A long, long time ago.

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

Eh, I don’t have just one - given I’ve written for 20 different fandoms over the last 16 years.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Oh, I’ve no idea - I only have one incomplete WiP actually posted on AO3, but I’ve no particular desire to finish it, especially given it’s 6 or 7 fandoms ago!

Of course, I have a whole heap of WiPs on my hard drive, but I doubt I’ll get to finish any of them.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Goodness knows. Someone else would have to answer that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have been told I write too much. Ironic, really, given how little I’ve written this past year.

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

I’d do it if it’s needful, though I don’t think I have.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Eh, no, I don’t have a favourite fic - I’ve liked every fic I’ve written as I was writing it and I’ve occasionally re-read some of my own fic just because.

Tagging, with the usual caveat that you don't have to participate if you don't want to! @slightlyintimidating @doctorjameswatson @jinxedwood @bonnissance @ariverandasong @daisydoctor13 @fortytworedvines @onaperduamedee @hokuspokusthings @ceridwyn2 @thisbluespirit and anyone else who wants to participate!

Questions to respond to:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

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

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

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

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

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

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

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

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

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

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

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

#AO3 Writing Meme

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bullfrogjoy · 3 months

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Bullfrog Joy

January 19, 2024

Good Morning! I know a lot of you don’t like winter, but Wednesday was a beautiful winter day and Thursday wasn’t far behind. This morning, well… We just have to take joy in what we get and remember where we live, right? The snow that came last night was very sparkly, but then I didn’t have to go out into it.

My week has been filled with lots of ups and joys and downs and sadness. How was yours, my friends? Yesterday was a perfect example. I lost my phone…twice!!! The first time I had to go get Jan at the office, have him come home and call me so I could find it. Turns out it was in the car under the driver’s seat. I thought I had it in the car, but I sure couldn’t find it. The second time, I walked to Casey’s to get a Diet Coke. Joy….then an hour later I tried to look up something. No phone. This time, it fell out of my pocket at Casey’s. They were saving it for me. Not very joyful, especially when I met Jan on the way and had to explain to him what I was doing!

Here’s a small joy. I had to drive to Galesburg, and I was very behind schedule because of the phone incident. However, I hit every stop light around Monmouth on the GREEN light! Yes, the green light. Amazing!

Oh, here’s another one. I found a new word game besides Wordle (which I still play daily) It’s called Connections where you have to group 16 words into four categories. Sometimes I lose, well maybe a lot of times. The other day I got a call from Kendall. He didn’t win. Neither did I. One of the categories was words you used to find on your calculator when you typed certain numbers then turned your calculator upside down like “0ll34.” Remember? “Hello”? There were three other words in the category, plus another category I did not get. I do remember those number words, but that was a long, long time ago. He had never heard of them. So, joy for the phone call from the grandson, boo for the loss, joy for the memory. I won yesterday, all four categories!!! Once again, it’s the little stuff.

For me joy comes from the books I read, too. I finished Ender’s Game this week. It was written in 1977 but had so many things in it that are relevant to today. I wonder how Orson Scott Card could know what game play and internet use and influencers could be like today. Last night we watched the movie…guess what! The book is much better than the movie. I know you are surprised!

I also think I may have found my word for the year. It scares me a little but that might not be all bad. I think the word is “finish.” Finish reading the book I started (I don’t have a lot of trouble with this one), finish cleaning the house, finish writing a letter, finish the prayers I have been asked to pray, finish whatever idea or project I get started. I am good at thinking up things, not so good at carrying them out. And I get sidetracked really easily!!! I am sure none of you have that problem, but I do, and it does not bring me joy.

I really like my new word for the month, “ubuntu.” It’s from Africa and my take on it is that we are all bound together as humans no matter who we are, no matter where we live, no matter what we believe. We need to be kind to one another and help whenever we can.

There’s a cool African story about some kids who were friends, sitting in a circle playing a game. A man offered a basket of fruit to whichever kid got to the basket first. They all joined hands and went together so they could all eat from the basket. Wouldn’t it be awesome if the world worked that way?

Joy to you my friends! Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me.

#joy #small joys #ubuntu #enders game

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nostalgicacademia · 2 years

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Letters of Jane Austen

Goodnestone Farm: Tuesday, August 27, 1805.

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,

We had a very pleasant drive from Canterbury, and reached this place about half-past four, which seemed to bid fair for a punctual dinner at five; but scenes of great agitation awaited us, and there was much to be endured and done before we could sit down to table.

Harriot found a letter from Louisa Hatton, desiring to know if she and her brothers were to be at the ball at Deal on Friday, and saying that the Eastwell family had some idea of going to it, and were to make use of Rowling if they did; and while I was dressing she came to me with another letter in her hand, in great perplexity. It was from Captain Woodford, containing a message from Lady Forbes, which he had intended to deliver in person, but had been prevented from doing.

The offer of a ticket for this grand ball, with an invitation to come to her house at Dover before and after it, was Lady Forbes' message. Harriot was at first very little inclined, or rather totally disinclined, to profit by her ladyship's attention; but at length, after many debates, she was persuaded by me and herself together to accept the ticket. The offer of dressing and sleeping at Dover she determined on Marianne's account to decline, and her plan is to be conveyed by Lady Elizabeth Hatton.

I hope their going is by this time certain, and will be soon known to be so. I think Miss H. would not have written such a letter if she had not been all but sure of it, and a little more. I am anxious on the subject, from the fear of being in the way if they do not come to give Harriot a conveyance. I proposed and pressed being sent home on Thursday, to prevent the possibility of being in the wrong place, but Harriot would not hear of it.

There is no chance of tickets for the Mr. Bridgeses, as no gentlemen but of the garrison are invited.

With a civil note to be fabricated to Lady F., and an answer written to Miss H., you will easily believe that we could not begin dinner till six. We were agreeably surprised by Edward Bridges' company to it. He had been, strange to tell, too late for the cricket match, too late at least to play himself, and, not being asked to dine with the players, came home. It is impossible to do justice to the hospitality of his attentions towards me; he made a point of ordering toasted cheese for supper entirely on my account.

We had a very agreeable evening, and here I am before breakfast writing to you, having got up between six and seven; Lady Brydges' room must be good for early rising.

Mr. Sankey was here last night, and found his patient better, but I have heard from a maid-servant that she has had but an indifferent night.

Tell Elizabeth that I did not give her letter to Harriot till we were in the carriage, when she received it with great delight, and could read it in comfort.

As you have been here so lately, I need not particularly describe the house or style of living, in which all seems for use and comfort; nor need I be diffuse on the state of Lady Brydges' bookcase and corner-shelves upstairs. What a treat to my mother to arrange them!

Harriot is constrained to give up all hope of seeing Edward here to fetch me, as I soon recollected that Mr. and Mrs. Charles Knatchbull's being at Godmersham on Thursday must put it out of the question.

Had I waited till after breakfast, the chief of all this might have been spared. The Duke of Gloucester's death sets my heart at ease, though it will cause some dozens to ache. Harriot's is not among the number of the last; she is very well pleased to be spared the trouble of preparation. She joins me in best love to you all, and will write to Elizabeth soon. I shall be very glad to hear from you, that we may know how you all are, especially the two Edwards.

I have asked Sophie if she has anything to say to Lizzy in acknowledgment of the little bird, and her message is that, with her love, she is very glad Lizzy sent it. She volunteers, moreover, her love to little Marianne, with the promise of bringing her a doll the next time she goes to Godmersham.

John is just come from Ramsgate, and brings a good account of the people there. He and his brother, you know, dine at Nackington; we are to dine at four, that we may walk afterwards. As it is now two, and Harriot has letters to write, we shall probably not get out before.

Yours affectionately,

J.A.

#pride and prejudice moodboard #jane austen letter #letter #regency period #regency era #regency #jane austen #pride and prejudice #aesthetic #moodboard #edit #aes #literature #lit #dark academia #book #da

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