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#old writing
invalidstories · 17 days
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One Bed
Warnings: Potential emotional distress due to relationships, non-sexual physical intimacy
In the dimly lit room, Hero and Villain found themselves in an unexpected predicament—they were both stranded for the night in a remote cabin, with only one bed.
Hero glanced around the cozy space, taking in the rustic decor and the soft glow of the fire crackling in the hearth. Despite the circumstances that had brought them together, there was a strange sense of tranquility in the air, as if the universe had conspired to grant them a moment of respite amidst the chaos of their rivalry.
Villain stood near the window, their silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken truce that had settled between them for the night.
With a sigh, Hero approached the bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling into their bones. "Well, I guess we'll have to make do," they remarked, their voice laced with resignation.
Villain turned to face them, their gaze meeting Hero's with an intensity that sent a shiver down their spine. "Indeed," they replied, their tone unreadable.
As they settled into the bed, their bodies mere inches apart, Hero couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at their insides. They were supposed to be enemies, locked in an eternal struggle for supremacy. And yet, here they were, sharing a bed as if they were old friends.
But soon enough, discomfort crept in as Hero shifted, feeling the weight of Villain's presence too close for comfort. "I can't sleep like this," they muttered, their frustration evident in their tone.
Villain sighed, a hint of annoyance flickering across their features. "Fine," they conceded, "you take the bed. I'll take the floor."
But Hero shook their head, adamant. "No, you shouldn't have to sleep on the floor. We can find another solution."
Villain scoffed, their pride wounded by the suggestion. "I'll change rooms then," they declared, moving towards the door.
But Hero's voice stopped them in their tracks. "You can't," they said quietly. "I checked. They're fully booked."
Villain's shoulders slumped in defeat, the reality of their situation sinking in. "Well, what do you suggest we do, then?"
Hero hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing their features. But then, with a determined glint in their eye, they replied, "We share the bed. But we'll make a pillow wall between us."
Villain raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "A pillow wall?"
Hero nodded, "It's the best compromise we have. We both get to sleep in the bed without invading each other's space."
With a begrudging nod, Villain acquiesced, and together they constructed a makeshift barrier of pillows between them, creating a fragile boundary between them.
As they both drifted off to sleep, the sound of their steady breathing filling the room, Hero couldn't help but wonder what the dawn would bring—a return to their bitter rivalry, or the dawn of a new understanding between them.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
As morning painted the room in soft hues of dawn, Hero stirred from their slumber, blinking groggily as consciousness returned. But as they shifted, they found themselves tangled in a mess of limbs, their body inexplicably intertwined with Villain's.
At first, confusion clouded Hero's mind, their thoughts muddled from sleep. But as awareness slowly seeped in, they couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in the intimate closeness.
With a soft sigh, Hero attempted to extricate themselves from the tangle, their movements gentle so as not to disturb Villain's sleep. But as they tried to pull away, Villain stirred, their grip tightening instinctively around Hero's waist, pulling them closer.
Surprised by the unexpected gesture, Hero stilled, their heart fluttering in their chest as they gazed down at Villain's peaceful expression. In that moment, all traces of loathing melted away, leaving only the warmth of companionship.
Unable to resist the pull of the moment, Hero allowed themselves to relax into Villain's embrace, their lips curling into a soft smile at the unexpected turn of events.
And as they drifted back into a peaceful sleep, entangled in each other's embrace, Hero couldn't help but feel a sense of hope blossoming within them—a hope that perhaps, despite the odds, there was room for understanding and acceptance in even the most unlikely of relationships.
"Love, akin to wildflowers, thrives in the unlikeliest of terrains, sprouting amidst adversity and blooming with unforeseen grace."
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family-oddity · 5 months
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the wall slam scene but 12 year old me's version
FUCK YOU @howmanyholesinswisscheese I SHOWED YOU MY OLD WRITING AND YOU SAID WALL SLAM SCENE AND RUINED THE WALL SLAM FOR ME FOREVER. SO HERE MAGGOTS I'LL RUIN IT FOR YOU, TOO.
THIS WAS THE FIRST PAGE OF A STORY I WROTE WHEN I WAS 12, SO, WELL, BACK IN 2016. DON'T ASK ME ABOUT THE NAME KING BAZA, IT STARTED OFF AS A BEDTIME STORY FOR MY BROTHER. THE OTHER NAMES ARE WORSE, BELIEVE ME. THE STORY IS A DUMPSTER FIRE. OH THE EXPOSITION THE INFODUMPING THE CLICHES IT'S--
THE HOMOEROTIC TENSION IS INSANE 12 YEAR OLD ME HAD NO IDEA--
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YOU WANTED CURSED PROPHECIES FROM ME, THE PROPHET? TAKE CURSED PROPHECIES. WEEP, GOOD OMENS FANDOM, WEEP.
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puppytears222 · 5 months
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a small kind of love
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⋆₊⁺⋆ ♡ ⋆⁺₊⋆; Philia; Friendly love
⋆₊⁺⋆ ♡ ⋆⁺₊⋆ Storge; Familial love
platonic!teen Reader x Fyodor
What was it exactly that made Fyodor so fond of you, so caring of this teenage girl? Was it the way she seemed so open? The way she never saw the bad in the things around her? Perhaps. But one thing Fyodor knows for sure. This girl is precious, and made his cold heart melt, soften just for her.
He found you that one fated day by the river; as he was passing by on a nightly stroll. The stars were so bright that night, he remembered. So was the moon. And thanks to those two celestial sources of light, he was able to see you. A young girl, crouched by the river bank, her face buried in her knees. Sniffling, like on the verge of tears. Where did this strange girl come from? He decided he wanted to find out. But make no mistake; he did not care for you, not yet.
And so, he approached you, making sure to keep some distance between the two of you as he stood to your side. He was a cold man, so arrogant and proud, and oh so distant. But you were young and already so upset- he didn't want to scare you off. So, he put on a smile, though not genuine, and softened his voice.
"It is not safe for a young girl to be out so late."
And you looked up at him, those big eyes filled with tears- so red and puffy he remembers, like you've been crying for hours on end.
"...I know, mister."
He chuckled softly at the name. Mister. It seems you were a polite girl. He looked down at your teary, puffy eyes... but that didn't sway him. If you had an ability- well he wasn't above using and manipulating children for his plan. So, he leaned down a bit, so that he could look you in the eye. A fake look of sympathy in his eyes.
"Then why are you out here, little one? Nowhere else to go?"
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girlfromthecrypt · 4 days
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"Do I know you from somewhere...?"
Okay so this is basically just for the people who followed me here from r/nosleep, and furthermore for those who read the "stuck on earth" series there, but um... if I may, I would like to draw your attention to a certain parallel.
Reem is the slightly older, more mature and less dumbass version of Kit Sutton.
They're absolutely not the same character--- Reem is accomplished, more calculated and not remotely as ditzy--- but like, I basically realized that I WROTE A TALL, BUFF PUNK GIRL MUSICIAN BEFORE.
I guess Reem is what you'd get if you were to mix up Nettie Peterson and Kit Sutton. Just sth I realized about my own writing.
Again, most people who'll come across this won't be able to make much sense of this, and it's not necessary. I'm just rambling.
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vizslasaber · 1 year
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UNDERSTANDING ──── echo.
summary: in the middle of the night, echo finds you, hurt and exhausted and in need of an apology. with the prompt "you want a bite?" / requests are closed!
pairing: arc trooper echo x reader
word count: 1.6k
warnings: none! just a sprinkling of angst and grief.
a/n: so…. i kinda went crazy with this one….... it's a bit angsty but i hope you like it anyway! to me, this prompt felt like it would be awkward, maybe used as a way of proposing a truce, or a peace offering. also, i listened to “waves” by chloe moriondo while writing this!
You’re not sure what to think of Echo.
Most of the time, he’s quiet. When he does speak, it’s usually to enforce a rule, remind the group of their current plan, or to keep Wrecker in check.
Officially, Hunter is the group leader; ever since Clone Force 99 accepted you into their squad, that much has been clear.
You’re the only non-clone—or “natborn” as the others refer to you—living on the Marauder. It’s been several months since you saved Omega from bounty hunters on your home planet of Pantora, and now, you’re as much a part of the Bad Batch as anyone else.
Except, you’re not a batcher. Not really.
Despite how much you care for your squadmates, it’s easy to feel separated from them at times. Easy to feel different.
Most of the others have picked up on this by now, and often go to great lengths to make you feel like one of them.
Not Echo, though. He seems wary of you, and you’re not sure why. Once, you brought it up to Tech, who simply waved you off with one of his shrewd, knowledge-filled comments. “You are new here, you know. Some people are simply slower to open up than others.”
You, however, know that’s not the case. You’ve seen Echo with his brothers, and with Omega. He can be kind, and funny, and even angry. But to you… to you, he’s nothing but quiet.
For some time, you tried your hardest to be yourself around him—to crack your usual sarcastic jokes at his expense, to be friendly, like you are with the others. But the constant avoidance and clipped answers leave you increasingly confused and hurt.
So you withdrew from him, too.
It still bothers you, sometimes. But you’ve learned to brush it off.
Now, you sit in the cockpit, feet resting against the control panel. A ration bar—one of the good ones—rests in your hand. Every so often, as you watch the blue glow of hyperspace streak past the viewport, you take a bite of the ration bar.
You’re on first watch. Someone has to stay in the cockpit to oversee the ship’s journey back to Ord Mantell—and, since you still can’t fall asleep in hyperspace, you keep volunteering for the job. The cockpit is mostly dark. All the lights are off, and the viewport is dimmed. Anything brighter reminds you of how sleep-deprived you are, and so you’re content to sit in the blue gloom.
Leaning your head against the headrest of the pilot’s chair, you close your eyes. Your entire body feels heavy with exhaustion, but every time you try to drift off, the rumbling of the ship’s hyperdrive jerks you awake.
The sound of footsteps startles you. You open your eyes, leaning around the back of the chair to inspect what little part of the ship’s corridor you can see. You can hear the sounds of someone moving around by the small common area, but you can’t tell who it is.
Tech’s probably experimenting again, you think wryly, and settle back into your comfortable position.
Soon, though, the footsteps grow closer. Someone enters the cockpit with a tired sigh, placing something on one of the chairs nearer to the door. It sort of sounds like Hunter, but with the similarity between everyone’s voices, you can’t be sure.
The footsteps halt suddenly. You look up to find honey-coloured eyes surveying you with apprehension. In the dim light, awash with blue, you register the glint of a cybernetic headpiece.
“Oh,” you say, blinking up at Echo, “hi.”
Echo only grunts.
You frown, looking down at your hands, at your half-eaten ration bar. “It’s late,” you say quietly. “You, um—you should get some rest.”
When Echo answers, you don’t look up. “I slept for a couple hours.”
Slowly, you nod, fiddling with the foil wrapper of the ration bar. The cockpit falls silent; you wait for Echo to leave, but he stays still, his shadow falling over your tired frame.
You want to ask why he’s still here. You want to be rude, to ask him to leave so you can have some peace and quiet. But truthfully, he isn’t saying anything, or causing any disturbances, so instead you hold up your unfinished ration bar. “You want a bite?”
Echo blinks. It seems to take him a moment to process your question. Then, to your faint surprise, he nods. “Thank you,” he says as you hand him the ration bar wordlessly.
It’s a peace offering, of sorts.
He sits in the co-pilot’s chair and takes a hesitant bite, chewing slowly. You see his expression brighten—probably at the realization that this is one of the good ration bars, the kind that Hunter always says not to hog—then return to his usual neutral one.
You watch as he swallows. He hands you back the bar, holding out his hand, but you don’t take it.
“Why… why are you here?” you ask quietly.
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Echo drops his arm and breaks eye contact, looking almost—embarrassed. Or maybe even ashamed.
Still, you wait for his answer. Several long, painful seconds pass before he says anything. When he speaks, it’s like he’s forcing out the words.
“I wanted to—” he pauses. His flesh hand fiddles with his metal one. “I wanted to apologize.”
You feel your breath hitch. Staring, you try not to gape. “What?” you say, whispering without meaning to. “I don’t—”
“I’ve been horrible to you,” Echo continues, voice steadier. “I didn’t mean to be so… withdrawn. I didn’t realize I was doing it. I… I hope you can forgive me.”
Instead of acknowledging his apology, you bite the inside of your cheek with uncertainty, then cross your arms over your chest. One of the others must have put him up to this. Probably Omega, or perhaps Hunter. Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “Who sent you?”
“No one!” Echo replies hurriedly, then presses his lips into a thin line. “I mean, Hunter told me that you—he said that—” He sighs. “I didn’t realize it on my own. But I came because I wanted to.”
You blink, cursing yourself when you feel your eyes sting. With a start, you realize that this is the most Echo has said to you since you joined the squad.
Taking in a breath, you wring your hands anxiously. “I just… I just don’t understand why.” You shrug. “You’re not the same with me. Not like how you are with the others.”
Echo swallows. “It’s not—”
“I just want to know what I did wrong.”
At that, Echo falls silent. Guilt permeates the air, enough that you can feel it.
“Hey,” Echo says, kinder than you’ve ever heard him. “Look at me.”
You do. His eyes, like lava, or maybe liquid gold, bore into you. It almost hurts to look.
“This,” he continues, gesturing to the space between you, “is not your fault.”
Against your will, a lone tear slips down your cheek. “So whose fault is it?” you whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the ship’s engine
It’s obvious from the look on Echo’s face that he’s thinking of something—or someone—specific. Despite how much you want to, you don’t ask.
You just wait.
“It’s my brother,” Echo finally murmurs, and you raise your eyebrows, quickly cycling through the rest of your squad. Hunter, Wrecker, Tech… maybe Crosshair? You can’t think what any of them, even the one who’s no longer a member of your group, have to do with you.
“Your... brother,” you repeat dumbly.
“Yes.” Echo nods. “Fives.”
Oh. A fellow soldier, then. Probably from before the war ended… and probably long dead.
Drawing in a shaky breath, you hastily wipe your cheek with your sleeve. “What—what about him?”
“You…” Echo shakes his head, then lets out a humourless chuckle as he turns to look at the viewport, at the swirling blues and whites and greys of hyperspace. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper. “You remind me of him.”
You blink.
Truthfully, you have no idea what to say to that. Luckily, Echo continues, saving you from having to come up with an answer.
“Your sense of humour, I mean. The sarcasm, the jokes.” He shrugs, and the light from the viewport catches on his cybernetic headpiece, glinting in the otherwise dim cockpit. “And… and the way you know people.”
“‘Know people’?” you echo, confused. “I’m not following.”
“You understand people,” Echo says, and finally looks at you again, eyes impossibly sad. “Somehow, without ever having experienced what others have gone through, you understand their pain—and you feel it with them.” He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then opens them again. “Fives used to do that too.”
And suddenly, as though a switch inside you has been flipped, it all makes sense. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me,” you realize, and Echo winces. “It’s because I remind you of him.”
“See?” The barest hint of a smile graces his lips. “You’re doing it now. And you’re not even trying.”
“I guess I never thought about it like that.”
“I’m sorry for everything,” Echo says. “I am. It just…”
“Hurts,” you finish, and Echo blinks, surprised. You smile softly. “I know you too, you know.” Reaching out, you take his flesh hand, gently prying it open and taking the ration bar. As Echo watches, you split the remaining piece in half and hand one to him. “And for what it’s worth—I forgive you.”
The shadows colouring Echo’s face suddenly seem lighter. He smiles, then—really smiles.
You take a bite of the ration bar and smile back.
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peaktora · 1 year
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𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 ˚◞♡ ⃗ takashi mitsuya
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊where your first romantic date with your best friend (mitsuya) has been scheduled for today since last month. but , where do his sisters go when his mother unexpectedly has to work overtime? with you.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊1.7k words. swearing (surprisingly just a bit). established relationship. first kiss. no pronouns used or specified gender.
a/n. — you know, not a big fan of writing first dates, but it fit @creativepromptfills dialogue prompt (aching bones) that i wanted to write sooo bad, therefore we're working with it
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if mitsuya knew anything, it was that waiting for someone to arrive while keeping an eye on the time wouldn't make them arrive any sooner. even though he repeatedly did the same thing, he can't help it. where were you?
“suya’, it's wrong to have us wait outside in the cold. for all I know, we might die,” sighed luna, hiding her hands in the pockets of her coat.
mana agreed, snuggling into her brothers' side.
“i know, i know. once we start moving around, we won’t even notice how strong the wind is. let’s just wait for-“
you sprinted from around the corner and rushed up to the group as if you heard his cries. it wasn't difficult to identify the hair color of a certain someone. as soon as you approached him, you began blathering about why it took you so long to get there in the first place.
however, mitsuya didn't notice; he was more focused in admiring your beauty. observing what you were wearing and the handmade scarf that he had made just for you.
“gosh, it’s freezing out here.”
it was then that he realized you weren’t wearing a coat, but a very light jacket. he took off his beige coat to expose his star-patterned beige sweater and black cargos, asking, "how do you have a scarf but not a jacket?"
you shake your head and say, "you need it more than me. and i didn’t think it’d be this cold."
he draped the coat over your shoulders without regard for how you felt, and you immediately felt at ease in the warmth it provided. he gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before ruffling up the fabric by pulling the two sides of it closer together. not doing much since the jacket was still unzipped.
“now, what’s first?”
“whatever the girls want, i’ll do.”
“THE TILT-A-WHEEL!” mana interrupted.
taking the girl's hand, you reply, "well, to the tilt-a-ride we go."
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you staggered as you descended the ride's stairs, grabbing hold of anything you could for stability, which was basically the girls if not the air. the night's carnival music was playing over and again, booming all around you.
maybe none of you should’ve spun the wheel so quickly.
mitsuya who decided to refrain from spinning about with you and his sisters, was completely fine and unnerved on the grass. complaining that he would get nauseous later.
he steadied you by putting his hands around your waist, “you have fun?”
"not as much as I would've staying on the grou-“
you stop yourself when you see the smaller children preparing to flee with their tickets and look for the next ride. when your instincts kicked in, you slipped out of your boyfriend's hold and yelled "hey!" rather than remaining in his arms and yelling.
believe it or not, he found that attractive. no, it's not that you scold his sisters; it's how you show them care while putting your own needs last. and not only in this situation.
when his mom asked him what he liked best about you, he gave her a long list, even mentioning your tendency to tap your fingers to the beat of music. although, there was one item on his list that he didn't address at the time (but would later mention).
when you’re in your element – the confident beauty you radiate is absolutely hypnotizing, he could stare at you for hours. that alone earns the top spot on his list. it makes it appear to be a light that only shines on you, big enough to kill everyone nearby.
just like the stars, he thought.
he frequently utilizes a telescope, which readily eliminates the empty sky and solely concentrates on the stars. such small things can create a lot of love, huh?
you were the most stunning star of all, it’s no surprise that you had the same impact on him that only the stars could. hell, for all he knows, a supernova in his heart could be produced by you in a matter of seconds.
your eager gasp, which ended your hypnosis tactics, jolted him out of his trance.
you quickly grabbed his arm and yelled, "photo booth!" racing to the rectangle-shaped box covered in strangers' grins.
who was he to crush your hopes? he sprinted faster than you to claim the booth seat as soon as you let the word "booth" fly off your tongue. with these things he knows that someone is always waiting around the corner, ready to claim ownership of other people's dreams.
following behind you two were luna and mana, who both, let’s just say, made a silent agreement.
"oh, my aching bones! I'm getting too old for this,” you said with a hand on your knee as you approached the lilac-haired boy.
"you hardly even qualify as an adult yet," he scoffed. holding the curtain open for you, ready to let you in.
“15-year-olds still have pain, and did you SEE how much I ran before this?” with a light smile on your face, you did just that, and he mimicked your movements.
he'd normally close the curtain, but he needed to keep an eye on his daring sisters. you watch as he whispers words to those two that you could hardly make out: something about sticking together and not leaving the booth.
you click on the screen pressing the 10 second option, and the first photo begins.
mitsuya interlocks your fingers as a feminine voice counts down from ten, holding it right in the middle of you two but also in the middle of the frame. you cover the bottom of your face with your other hand while maintaining a surprised expression.
5, 4, 3…
he looks over to you, smiling ear to ear.
“that was a cute one!” luna says after it's done.
you laugh heartily as you shake your head seeing how the girls approach you slowly but surely. you quipped, "you wanna come up?"
they both jumped onto the booth seat right away, mana in the middle of you and your boyfriend and luna on your lap. they look at the screen with assurance while displaying peace signs, not telling you or mitsuya what to do, but rather encouraging you to follow suit.
3, 2, 1. the flash goes off.
mitsuya was nervously peering at you out of the corner of your eye. you look his way. then, his lovely, purple eyes are staring at you in a way that you could’ve imagined a month ago.
before you could say anything, the sisters shrieked, "kiss, kiss, kiss!"
"you guys are giving me a headache every time you scream," he groaned as soon as he could.
“do you remember what we discussed?” only luna returned to her position from twenty seconds earlier despite his hand motions to send them both away.
“you have 5 seconds left!”
his palm slowly slides along the side of your cheek as you take a deep breath, and you feel the hairs on that surface start to alarmingly stand up.
“can i kiss you?”
“ready?”
you weren't lying when you said you were anxious. but there's no question that you wanted this picture more than he did. so you leaned in and merged your lips together, eyes naturally closing shut.
he made an effort to lean closer, but wasn’t able to give you the precise kiss he wanted, since his sister was in the way.
the brief time the kiss lasted allowed you to absorb a lot of information. the taste was flavorful yet also sweet. it had a coconut flavor, much like the chapstick you gave him last week. did he also use his materials to sew his lips? they were as delicate as silk.
you lean back in late amazement at the connection. missing the warmth. once more, a gentle smile touches your lips, but this time it's his as well. that, however, didn't last long because you quickly leaned back in, which is not how mitsuya probably anticipated this would proceed since he'd probably want to take the lead.
oh well. you thought.
just have to tell people you both kissed first.
his fingers slowly move up your neck from the side of your face. he tightens his hold while making sure that you are both in a comfortable posture.
there's no way you would have believed it if your future self had told you that five years from now, you'd be dating your best friend, kissing him, and taking pictures to prove it.
there’s just no fucking way.
the moment ended only when his sister grumbled about being crushed. at that point, you both realized that you had pretty much made out in front of them, which was something you didn't want to do, and that you had also forgotten to consider whether or not the photo had already been released.
as you stepped outside the booth, luna was waiting for you with a strip of paper in her hand, bouncing and fangirling all over the place. only halting when you were directly in front of her.
“I think mana and I looked the best in this picture, you both looked absolutely adorable!” as she handed you the strip, she said.
filling the area without the photos was a leaf frame. finally, you had mitsuya and you holding hands, his sisters and you making peace signs, and your first kiss with the male pasted onto a thin strip.
and hold on—is that mana in the last picture standing between you and mitsuya with a heart raised?
they really were mischievous.
you jokingly glared at the youngest child before giving the picture to the said boy, “wanna go on the ferris wheel?”
mana shook her head, “i’m tired.”
“not really tired, just tired of walking.” luna agreed.
you looked to the sides of you, ready to ask mitsuya if he was ready to go back home, but he was no where in sight.
without notice, he snuck up behind you with the familiar snapshot in hand and said, "wrote the date babe, here you keep it," before slipping it into your pocket.
the rest of the crew discussed what you’d all do next, but you slipped that photo right back out of your pocket.
on the side that was blank—or should have been—you pulled it out. you smiled about thousand times as you read the inked handwriting that you had learned to read over the years. each smile spreading wider and wider across your face. the snapshot now combined a poem and a picture.
it was then, that you fell in love in october.
and so did he.
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hymnsandhearses · 7 months
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Year 15: You discovered suburban sin fucking a meth head in a rusty Chevy S-10 with a gun rack
Year 19: You fled for the city scene but it was all skate rats and gutter punks with puncture tracks
Year 23: You were redeemed by two dogs long walks those twelve steps and a yoga mat
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sameschmidtdiffname · 1 month
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Split
08.19.23
Thudding, dull pain is something that reminds me I am alive
The emotions course through my veins in a way some may call sadistic
Trailing along my curved spine, I mentally picture someone there
Their face is blurred to me, their hand one I know not
Words drip from my mouth as though a leaking faucet
Our main difference being that many hear the repetitive tap against the bowl
The words that spill forth convey so much, yet those who read them realize so little
If I showed this to you, would you understand?
Would you know yourself of nights spent in unholy water, trying desperately to make up your mind
One hand grasping a razor
The other your own wrist
The mental debate one you've heard so many, too many times
Would you believe me if I told you how sore my able heart beats against the bones that are used against I and every woman?
Would you listen when I ponder how said bones resemble a grasp around us, the design effective and symbolic?
And while I let these thoughts drip from my red, swollen lips that tremble and bleed from the cracks I bite into them
Could you find Aphrodite in such an unabashed display of humanity?
Would you find beauty in the way the water spirals down my hair?
Would you take care to notice, stranger, how the color sets shame to fire, beautiful even in the artifical light?
Would you see my eyes, which I long to hear described poetically, peak between too long of bangs, tears trapped in blonde lashes that do not sit evenly
And see the rage that fuels me?
Would you find beauty in my nose as one once did
His words unlike any ever spoken to me
Held in a diary I've kept, used to decode myself and others
Would you run your hands along my body?
Not in a way to bring lust into your heart
But to tell me you see me
You feel me
Would you admire me as I admire you, stranger?
A figment created long ago when it became clear to me that when I cried, no one would come
Maybe this is why God the Father has created us
Maybe he too has spent endless nights in this porcelain trap
Tapping his head against a hollow wall
Begging for salvation
Maybe he too knows not what he did
Does God also have a father that damned him?
A mother that begged him?
Is this why he chose to send his child into the gallows?
All say mercy
I say an eye for an eye
Would you look into mine and see redemption?
Would you cup my aging face and tell me I've done nothing to cause this?
Would you press your forehead against mine and whisper the thoughts I whisper to others?
"You are not broken,
You are loved.
This world feels your warmth
And will one day allow you to exist without lessons to remind of how mortal you and I are"
In my mind, this figure takes the razor and places it away
Wrapping their arms around me
Allowing me to feel the air my lungs have refused to breathe
But in reality, my fingers are pruned and the razor taunts me
I am too weak, it knows
And I stare back, begging myself to show strength and allow myself to slip away in a crimson pond
In this pond, I dare the selfish thought of maybe being worth compared to the beauty of Ophilia
Would I be an example worthy of art then?
In my mind, the stranger carefully lifts me and wraps me in cloth that soothes my tender, self admired skin
In reality, my bones feel as though knives carve away the detested excess of my body
A body my mind knows not how to view
Mentally I lay in a soft bed
Sheets and pillows surrounding me as a stranger sings sweet songs to me
Combing through my hair
They trace shapes upon my cheeks, their touch making me smile
Physically I begin to see the water lap at the drains that prevent it from overflowing
The water and stinging tears the only warmth I'll ever deserve
I exist in two worlds
I always have
Since I was a child, I knew how to balance such things as this
But as I grow older I realize there is no point in such niceties
The delusion of love for me makes my back ache more and more
It was promised to me once
It was given to me
Yet this love was not for me
This love was for an idea
Now I live in fear I am but a horrible, intrusive thought
Something my makers conjure and bat away, uncomfortable with my existence
I chant and cry
"I am worth it! I am good!"
But silence is all that echos in this small room
Eyes look but they do not perceive
I am but a paperweight
Occupying space better taken by someone other than I
I wonder who all have died to allow me to continue living
Is there a limit to those who are allowed to be?
If so, why does God continue to let me take space?
"You are worthy," the stranger tells me
"I have done nothing," I respond
"You need not do anything to be worthy" he implores
"But I do; for why should I be given rewards with no work?"
In my dreams they pull me into their embrace and remind me of how much I do
How I burn pieces of myself to keep others warm
How I let others occupy space in my mind
Thinking of ways to make them happier with me
Even those I hate, I still long to see them smile at me
I long for their praise and I long to hear laughter as they feel joy that I have caused
I do not wish to be worshipped
No, I ask for something more selfish
I ask that I bring every person I meet happiness
True, unfiltered happiness
And in return, I ask for just one human to return the warmth to me I cannot help but give
"It is not selfish to be loved."
No, it is simply damning.
Yet this damnation is my favorite sin
I crave it as one would crave water or food
I would willingly sacrifice the latter for the former
And this sacrifice, which is not truly a sacrifice
Is one that brings me joy I cannot describe
Lean on me and I will feel useful
I will go to bed that night feeling worthy of my place in this world for but a moment
For when I wake, I will crave another dose
As is only natural for an addict
But reject me and I will reject myself in a way I do not know if Eve could have comprehended when the snake seduced her as they often do me
I will remind myself that this is not fair to anyone
How I deserve the pain that thuds and thuds against the cage made of Adam where I contain my selfishness
And this stranger looks at me with pity
But this stranger is myself
And I tell him "leave; no one is less worthy of this self indulgence than you."
Once more, the stranger disappears
And I sit here in this tub, finally free to press the blade to my vein
And free myself from this apple I would consume again and again
In a garden given to all but me
If only I wasn't a coward.
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springs-hurts · 6 months
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You know what's really sad about reading classic books? You can't even drop a text to the author, not on the insta, Twitter or Tumblr, reddit anywhere. It's so sad... Like I'd like to know whatever the fuck Mr Dostoevsky was thinking when he decided to write a character like Rodia. Like the fufk?
What were your thought process Mr Dostoevsky when you decided that he should remain dead for weeks then wake up and then remain unconscious for another week. Like damn!
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invalidstories · 19 days
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Forbidden Love
Warnings: physical aggression, physical restraint, forbidden attraction, and romantic tension
In the dimly lit alley, Hero stumbled, their breath ragged and limbs heavy with exhaustion. They had been chasing Villain for what felt like an eternity, their determination fueled by a relentless sense of duty. But now, as they faced their adversary in the cold embrace of the night, Hero could feel the weight of their fatigue bearing down upon them.
Villain, ever the opportunist, seized the moment, lunging forward with predatory grace. Hero's reflexes were dulled by exhaustion, and before they could react, Villain had them pinned against the brick wall, their body pressed close, trapping the Hero.
"You look tired, Hero," Villain purred, their voice a low, taunting whisper that sent shivers down Hero's spine. "Is the weight of the world finally catching up to you?"
Hero gritted their teeth, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of their enemy's gloating. "Maybe," they managed to rasp out, "but that won't stop me from taking you down."
Villain chuckled darkly, their breath hot against Hero's neck. "Such bravado," they murmured, their lips dangerously close to Hero's ear. "But we both know you're no match for me in this state."
Hero's heart raced as they struggled against Villain's iron grip, their body pressed against the cold, unyielding wall. Every fiber of their being screamed for release, for freedom from Villain's suffocating hold. Yet, even in their exhaustion, a flicker of comfort grew within them, being so close to the villain.
As Villain's gaze bore into theirs, Hero felt something stir within them – a strange, forbidden attraction that blossomed despite the circumstances. There was something captivating about them, something that stirred Hero's heart in ways they couldn't explain.
"You may be right," Hero admitted, their voice barely above a whisper, "but there's something about you that I can't ignore."
And in that moment, with the world crumbling around them, Hero reached out, their fingertips grazing Villain's cheek. Villain leaned into the touch, their eyes fluttering closed as they surrendered to the irresistible pull of fate.
Suddenly, their lips met met the villain's in a desperate kiss, emotions surging between them – desire, longing, and a hint of defiance. In that stolen moment, Hero and Villain were no longer enemies, but two souls intertwined in a dance of forbidden passion.
But as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, Villain whispered words that shattered the fragile illusion of their connection.
"Perhaps in another life, we could have been more than enemies."
And with that, they disappeared into the night, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty and longing in their wake.
"Amid the chaos, find beauty in the unexpected."
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tonberry-yoda · 1 year
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Once Upon A Dream - Julian Devorak
Pairing - Julian Devorak x reader (a dress is mentioned to be on reader, but clothes dont mean nothin frfr)
Warnings - Julian getting drunk lmaoooo but nothing other than that lol
Word Count - ~1,270
Notes - this is old... LIKE REALLY FLIPPIN OLD like SO OLD OMG. it was rotting in google docs and I found it and I actually love it. I kinda miss my old writing style ngl... that's okay tho lol, I still love my writing now dont get me wrong, but this was in a time where i had a ton of free time, so i could write all day if i wanted to. anyway, enjoy!!! <333 (i did edit it a bit tho lmao)
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You were never around the palace often, considering the people there didn't like you much. You were poor. You worked in the marketplace.
But occasionally, You would find yourself in the garden on a gloomy and foggy day playing with the frost covered, half dead flowers with a smile on your face even though your feet were covered in mud and there was no saving the brim of that dress that had dirt and grass stains collected from the past couple of years.
You smiled as you ran your hand over the ice covered fountain humming to yourself, Once Upon a Dream. The tune has been stuck in your head all morning.
As you was getting through the chorus, watching a bird eat the seeds you threw, you felt something warm next to you and another voice joined in. “But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…”
You turned over, shocked and a man laughed. “My apologies. I love that song. Been stuck in my head all morning, I just had to get it out. I thought it was a nice opportunity.”
You smiled, tilting your head. “Are you… Doctor Devorak?”
“Ugh, formalities. Call me Julian, dear. Or Doctor Julian. Formalities.” He shook his head as he repeated that word.
“What are you doing out here, doctor?”
He smiled, looking at the crisp grass. “Nothing like a morning walk, don't you think? Sometimes one man can get sick of the plague.”
“I would imagine,” you pulled you cold legs towards your chest, sitting down. “Are you getting close to a cure?”
He shrugged, looking off before sighing, putting his head in his hands. “God, I just feel like I'm a failure.”
“A failure? No! You’ve helped a lot of people!”
“There’s only so much I can do before there’s hoards of people! More and more people get infected every day. More people are dying and I can only heal so many at a time.”
“Doctor, you’re doing fi-”
“That’s what you see on the surface! Do you see this?!” He threw off his eyepatch revealing the plague.
You gasped and backed up.
“It's not contagious, love… I apologize… I just let out everything on a stranger, huh?” He sighed, laughing sadly to himself and sat back down, putting the eyepatch back on. “I'm fine. The plague doesn't affect me or anyone around me.”
You sighed, sitting next to him. “I'm sorry about that. You’re doing the best you can do right now though and that’s enough for the town for now.”
“I'm trying.”
You grabbed his warm, gloved hand and rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. “You are. And that’s good enough. At least you’re putting in effort.”
He laughed and looked directly into your eyes. “I just realized that I never learned your name, dear.”
---
“Can I get another salty bitters over here?”
The bartender leaned over the table, laughing. “Another one?! Dr. Devorak, you’re going to die off of those things!”
“The great Dr. Devorak doesn't die over alcohol!” He hiccuped and stood up on his table. “I am the great Dr. No. 069! Got it, barkeep?!”
The whole bar burst out into laughter, including Julian who slipped off of his table.
All of a sudden, the whole bar got quiet when a small silhouette walked in and over to the bar. “Excuse me… can I get a salty bitters please?”
The bartender looked at you with a very skeptical eye, laughing along with the rest of the bar. “The little one… wants a salty bitters?!”
“Yes please.”
“Where did you come from?”
“None of your business. Can I have my drink please?”
He laughed so hard that he fell over along with the rest of the bar and you stood there, rolling your eyes.
Julian scattered up and ran next to you. “A salty bitters, you say?”
You smiled, turning to Julian. “Yes, a salty bitters. Does everyone and their mother have a problem with that?”
He laughed, banging his hand on the counter. “You heard the lady, barkeep! Get her a salty bitters!”
You were standing so close to him that you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
The bartender got up and handed you your alcohol. “There ya go little one! A salty bitters… in a teacup!”
The whole bar broke out into insane laughter as you took your drink.
It all stopped when you slammed it down though.
“I'll take one more and be on my way, thanks.” You threw the money on the counter and the bar went back to normal.
“Did you used to be a pirate or sumthin?” The bartender slid over your drink, flashing you a toothy smile.
“I did.”
“Cute. Enjoy the drink, okay?” He winked and you smiled and walked away, rolling your eyes.
Julian ran after you and grabbed your shoulder. “You look familiar… Do I know you?”
You studied his face for a minute, only a flash of a memory appearing for a second. “I… I don't know.”
His hand slid down your shoulder, falling limply. “Okay… sorry.”
You grabbed his fallen hand, looking into his shaky eyes. “It's okay.” You smiled, sending a shockwave of familiarity through his body that made him shake.
“I'll… see you around?”
You turned over, the smile only turning brighter. “Yeah.”
---
He stared at his plague doctor mask, looking off to the sea with a sad look striking his eyes. “Who needs a plague doctor if there’s no plague? …”
He threw his mask into the ocean and a small tear fell down his cheek. He let himself cry with his face in the palms of his hands, calling himself things like a failure and a murderer. He didn't want to be seen as these things, but he figured they were true based on the words of the people. The people he tried to save, only to let down.
“Dr. Devorak?” He turned over, seeing you, who he met at the bar. You, whose shop he broke into. You, who patted him down and he subtly flirted with.
“D-Dear!” He realized that when he looked at you, his face was red, puffy, and tear stained. “S-Sorry.”
She sat next to him, looking out at the sea. “Sorry for what?”
“N-Nothing. Nevermind.”
You sat in silence for a moment as you scooted closer to him, your hands almost touching.
“Julian?”
“Yes?”
“Did you actually kill Lucio?” He looked over to you with shock in his eyes that turned soft almost immediately. “I don't remember.”
You hummed in response, scooting closer. “I hope this doesn't sound weird… but Julian… it feels like we’ve known each other for years.”
He laughed, moving his hand to his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “You’re telling me!”
You smiled and stood up, stretching your hand out. “Julian, let's go get some dinner.”
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he stood up, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Yes please.”
---
Julian, I love you. I didn't tell you… but I have the red plague. I don't know when you’ll read this, but please know that even in death, I will be with you forever. I promise that we’ll see each other again. Even if it takes an eternity. To be honest with you… I love you. I always have. You’ve had nothing but respect for me and I hope that I showed you the same. Good luck. You’ll always be the best doctor in my eyes. I believe in you. Even in my last days I look at you with dreamy eyes. I love you, Dr. Devorak.
XOXO
the arcana masterlist
@tonberry-yoda
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I think I just inspired some kid on tiktok????
Like I read aloud my Warriors cats fanfic on my account when it was still active and offered critiques and commentary on it. I made like 120+ videos on this since that's how long it was (I also liked to keep them under three minutes).
The point is this person has watched all of them, got invested, and just commented on the last video that they were inspired to write their own fanfiction and want me to rewrite this story like I planned?? Yes it's true I did talk about how I'd rewrite it, and I guess in the future I have it set aside to adapt to an original work, but like???
Idk someone being obsessed with something I wrote when I was fourteen and being inspired is kinda sweet? I mean several people actually commented they've gotten invested in this silly meandering story. It's both weird and validating.
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batsyforyou · 2 months
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Lillies in the Library
Tags: Nakedness, crack, dream, poem, 1st person pov
Pairing: Glorfindel x reader
Author's Note: This was written by like 15 year old me. The original prompt was given to me by my creative writing teacher at the time and it was 'what would you do if you woke up to your favorite character in your bed?' I made it into a fanfic and made it a dream where a modern person was dreaming of nightmare Glorfindel every night because they were torn apart soul mates. I clearly dropped it like a hot potato. But I still laugh at myself every time I see it so I decided to post it so everyone else can laugh with me.
Warning: It's not good lol.
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Lilies in the Library: Prologue 
The path of two strangers collide,
 A river divides them, though the stream is gentle, 
Traveling their way across may not be possible,
The venture deemed unsafe, though untested 
But this does not sway their curiosity 
They walk alongside the river’s edge
Where white daisies grow, in the fields they wonder
Content as they were to know each other this way 
But soon they ached for more,  
If they tested the waters depth,
Then maybe . . .
Lillies in Library Chapter 1:
A warmth consumed me as I slept, hot sunlight seeping into my skin and heating me from the inside. I shifted, stretching my legs and curled into myself, the silk sheets of my bed making an excellent pillow. Humming a little sigh I truly felt content, after all, it had been a long while since I could actually sleep in for once. With all the customer complaints, the late nights, my boss being an absolute prick, and my manager making an ass out of himself (as usual) it was about time I got some well deserved R&R. 
Soon though, I knew I would have to eventually venture out of bed and into my kitchen for some food. Oh, man, just thinking of all the sweet, creamy, and delicious things I could create this fine morning made me smile. I could just smell the soft cinnamon and brown sugar of the sweet rolls (mother’s recipe of course) and the soft raspberries decorated on top. I could just imagine popping one in and squishing it against the roof of my mouth, the taste of its tartness trickling down the sides of my tongue. And the french toast, the crunch of the bacon and the spice of the eggs. Aw, man, did that sound like heaven, just remembering the quick granola bars I’d been forced to consume before work was a nightmare in itself. 
Happily day-dreaming of my breakfast to be I rolled over taking the crumpled sheets in my arms with me. I sighed, taking a deep, long breath. O, the ginger biscuits, the taste of the sweetness in the berries paired with the full, fluffy buttermilk pancakes and the maple syrup and the- 
“Good morning!” 
Startled from my dozing I gasped and jerked my eyes open to meet the bluest pair of eyes I had ever seen. Shocked, I threw myself into a sitting position grasping the sheets to my chest in surprise. 
“What the heck?!” I shouted. 
Beneath me the stranger laughed. A man's voice. It was a man. There was a man in my bed. Laughing (of all things) and laughing at me! 
The man in question was resting his head on one hand, leaning into his elbow, and looking all too happy to see me with the biggest shit eating grin the Earth has ever known. And lacking, if the nakedness of his skin was any indication, clothes or maybe just a shirt. 
‘What the heck?!’ I thought. ‘Why is there a man in. My. Bed!?’ 
He had blueberry eyes. The fairest of skin that looked delectably smooth. A smile that could challenge even the brightest of stars. A body sculpted to look like a greek statue and hair to rival the greatest shampoo ad matched with the hair of a golden retriever who had recently from the groomers. The shininess of his hair was so bright it was like the sun itself had made a home amongst his golden locks. And the length seemed to be well past my arm (he had longer hair then me gosh dang it). To top it all off, he even had pointed ears so big that they could contend with the greatest halloween costumes made and still come out on top. 
Admittedly, the man was beautiful if not awkwardly so. No man had any right to be this gorgeous and still manage to give off a masculine vibe as the specimen before me was most differently male. 
The sound of his laughter continued to ring in my ears like chimes dancing (obnoxiously) in the wind. The sound, and sight of him, would have been pleasant if the whole situation hadn’t been so down right creepy. 
“M’lady, forgive me for startling you, but I must ask, whatever do you mean?” His voice was perfect, deep and pure like—
—Like a deep flowing river as its richness crept right past you as it licked at your ankles.
Oh my gosh who was this man? And why was he in my bed? Oh, good gracious, I didn’t sleep with him did I? 
Well, I cocked my head and ran my eyes over his body, chewing my lip, even if I did would that be such a bad thing? I mean look at him! He was way out of my league. He'd be quite a score even I had to admit that. 
I frowned and tilted my head. ‘No, wait.’ I could still feel my underclothes tightly secured on my waist and my fuzzy purple mario party pajamas still hung loosely against me. Besides, I was still (sadly) a virgin and knew that if I had undergone such a thing there would most definitely be a soreness somewhere in my body. 
Right? 
But seriously, who the frick-frack-of-the-tic-tac was this man and why was he in my bed? My slight panic begins to twist into quick short breaths, though I forced myself to try and be quiet about it. There was no need in letting my. . . whatever he was, know he had me slightly flustered and well, a little scared. 
“Who are you?” I asked. 
Trying to force more confidence into my voice then I actually had, considering this man could probably snap me in two, it probably would have been a better idea to try a subtler approach. He frowned at me, the pull of his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes tugged at my heart. I felt incredibly guilty, far more guilty than a woman who just woke up to a stranger in her bed should feel. Goodness I hadn’t gone drinking did I?  
Goldilocks ignored my subtle shift towards the edge of the bed instead pushing himself up to lean against his arm. “Truly, do you not know?” 
Pausing in my retreat I squinted at him. I mean he did look familiar but I couldn’t place him. Squinting a little harder (deciding to risk it) I leaned a little closer to him, humming. 
“Well, I mean you do look familiar but ...” Leaning a smidgen closer, he only grinned at me, almost beckoning me closer with a teasing look in his eyes. This close I could practically feel the heat radiating off him and it was quite strange. His skin was scarred in places, some even wrapped around him like some kind of snake where he had some burn marks of some sort. His skin was covered in scars. His skin was washed in scars, so much so, the scars looked like they had a vice grip on him, resembling that of an angry viper. I tightened my grip on the sheets pulling them a little closer to my chest thinking hard, trying to place him.  Maybe I did go drinking last night and this man somehow got sucked up into one of Rickie’s dares or something. It was then he shifted, the sheets moving with him and naturally my eyes followed the movement. Only for my eyes to travel across the bare skin of his hip and thigh. 
Squealing in surprise, I peeled back shouting, “Oh—you're naked!?”
 Instinctively I threw the sheets over my face trying to hide before squealing, like that of a frightened pig. My cheeks burning, I ripped the sheets away, throwing them at him, and shouting, “What is the matter with you?!” 
Desperate, I scrambled off the bed hitting the floor.. With a hard thump, shoving myself up on shaking legs I tried to back away, before tripping over my own feet, my back slamming against the wall as I stumbled. My hands shot up to cover my face, fingers covering my eyes as I was torn between saving this man's dignity or keeping an eye on a possible threat.  ‘Forget about trying to remember him!’ I mentally cried, ‘not only do I have a man in my bed but a naked man in my bed!’
Seemingly angry the man shot up faster than I could blink, ripping the covers off and rushing forward. Screaming I backed away, looking for the door, cause if there wasn’t anything scarier than a buff naked man running at you it was a giant and buff, naked man running at you! “Door, where's the door?!” I shouted. 
But it was too late, the man was on me before I could so much as flinch. Strong hands grabbing hold of my upper arms and slamming me into the wall, shaking me. “This isn’t fair! You can’t keep ignoring me!” 
He slammed me into the wall again, “Ow! Ow, you're hurting me!” I cried, tears spilling over my face as the images in my eyes faded. Flashes of gold being the last thing I see. 
“You can not ignore me!”
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disorganizedkitten · 2 months
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Growing up and leaving the nest is hard, but being with friends lightens the blow. Unless you are Chloe Bourgeois, in which case you have to make friends to help pull that weight. Or maybe you already have some, you just didn’t think of them.
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