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Yall come read this bc im hooked already

The Foreigner Chapter 2: And the Storm Raged

Anya’s POV

Weather Manipulation.

That’s my cursed technique. My father used to believe that it was a gift, but shortly after my 10th birthday his view point changed. My father began to see me as a demon, some demonic abomination of some sorts. He would say repeatedly after my mother died that I was a monster and that he no longer wanted me. I guess his thoughts were warranted since I was the one that killed my mother. 

It was an accident.

- 5 years ago-

  My mother and I were arguing about the manifestation of my cursed abilities and me “attempting” to try to ignore the curses that I saw on a daily basis.

  “How can I ignore them?” I asked incredulously. 

    “Don’t look at them. The less you look at them, the less likely you are to interact with them. The less interaction the less problems you will have. You’ll be normal.” 

“It’s not that simple! How can I just ignore these things that are wrapped around people?” 

“THIS IS NOT UP FOR DISCUSSION!” screamed my mother. “You will do this! Do you know what will happen if you keep messing with these curses? How will your Father and I protect ourselves? You’re selfish! You know that curses are attracted to stronger cursed energies. Your bringing these curses to our front door!”

I was fuming, Me? ME Selfish? 

I was trying to help people. I was trying to save them, make their lives easier even. How could she say this?

 Amongst the fury and anger that I was feeling, I didn’t notice the shift in the atmosphere. Outside, the clouds aggregated in the sky and the sky darkened drastically. As my temper grew, so did the color saturation of the sky and the ring of thunder growing ever present. 

“ I am not selfish. I want to help!” I spat back at my mother between clenched teeth. 

“YOU WILL NOT! I promised to protect you from this life and all you want to do is run head first into it,”  my mother yelled, eyes blazing with a passion that I have never seen before. My mother used to be a window before meeting and marrying my father. She taught me everything there was to know about cursed spirits since I could see them. She once stated that she wished I never developed this ability, and hoped I’d be more like my father, a non- sorcerer. I never understood why she would give it all up. Helping people, protecting them, being good.  This only served to anger me more. Why couldn’t she see that I just wanted to help. To be good too.

 The storm outside was mirroring the storm that ragged inside the kitchen between mother and daughter. 

“This is a part of me. I can not ignore or hide from it. Mom, I don’t want to fight with you, but my mind is made up,” I stated tensely. 

“I can not accept this.”

“If you can not accept this, then how can you accept me,” I asked challenging my mother’s previous statement. 

My mother, eyes wide, hesitated before whispering out two words that shattered my whole world.

“I can’t.”

Tears welled in my eyes and I let out an agonizing sob.

Lightning struck down the house.

Onion could definitely be better! I made this post right after the game came out and hadn't even discovered onions or pumpkins yet, but there has been a lot of debate about what the best crop is! I've since decided I like pumpkins better but I think it really comes down to personal preference and how you like to play the game! :)

Some useful? tips for disney dreamlight valley in case anyone's interested:

1. Always have someone hanging out with you! Especially if the role you gave them matches what you're currently doing (crop role when you're harvesting can get you double the crops!) But either way doing literally anything gives you friendship pts with them!

2. Do NOT convert dream shards. This one is kind of everywhere but it's too true lol so save them bitches

3. Get remy's restaurant asap! it unlocks butter, milk, etc which allows you to make soufflés which you can sell for a shit ton of coins

4. ALSO upgrade your house (exterior sign NOT the interior elevator) asap as it's the only way to increase the storage in your OG house chest!

5. Canola is the best crop to make a profit. It's $25 per seed bag but sells for $100+ per crop and only takes 30 min to grow! Grow it in its native zone forest of valor to grow it even faster too

Ok that's it for now hope this helps if anyone needs it! May make more tip lists as I go if anyone's interested but also youtube videos have been my bestie for making money fast so def check out those too if you want! Happy gaming 😁😁

okay I know I told almost everyone about this show, and I know I am late to the party, but you guys, this Kdrama? ✋🏻❤️

I don't even know from where should I start, the plot, acting, relationships, are just super good! This show is what I have been calling a Royai coded couple. Their marriage is so beautiful, and their love is so deep and what they will do to each other is everything!!

So if you were into thriller and love Roy and Riza I HIGHLY suggest you checking this out!

I actually made a silly doodle with the main couple as Roy and Riza and now I am thinking of making a whole au based on this

btw roleplaying various characters with your friends is the singular most healing thing in the world. playing with toys for adults

buying stupid things that you would die to have as a kid really does heal something inside you

best feeling ever is being obsessed with a visual novel and mentioning it offhandedly to your bestie and said bestie is like "WAIT I LOVE THAT GAME I HAVE THE WEDDING DLC" and then youre like "HOLY SHIT‼️"

prt 2. fucks me up even more tho

PART TWO FOR THE ANGST

omg andrea that blurb was amazing! can u pls continue it!

So what happens next??? YOU CANT LEAVE IT LIKE THAT ANDREA WTF

wow please write more angst omg

Can you write about the part where Harry ties you up & fucks the other girl for the rest of the night

PLS DO A FOLLOW UP OF THAT THREESOME DRABBLE I AM BEGGING

GIRL U GOTTA DO ANOTHER LART TO THE BLURB OF ANGSTY THREESOME

ANDREA IM CRYING OVER THE THREESOME DRABBLE!22!!22!!22!2!

alright but only bc y’all asked so nicely :-) i spent like two hours on this instead of doing hw and it’s 1 am but wHATEVER!! here’s part one if u missed it!!

Two hours and thirteen minutes.

That’s how long Y/N’s been locked in their room while Harry’s been simmering in hellfire as he paces around the apartment, worried out of his mind and sick to his stomach, his own pancakes and eggs threatening to make a reappearance.

He’s worried about their relationship— about what might become of it, or what might not become of it. If he had known this whole threesome idea was going to end this way, he would’ve canned it immediately.

Would’ve never brought up the concept at the bar they were at the night before when that girl was ogling both him and Y/N from across the room, a small smile playing her ruby lips. Would’ve never let Y/N say a tentative yet intrigued “yes,” would’ve never walked up to the woman and offered to buy her a drink, and would‘ve never let her into their home if he knew it was going to end with his girlfriend this torn apart.  

He’s sick to his stomach not only about the whole ordeal, but sick with himself for what he did to one of the most important people in his life.

Keep reading

holy shit wtf. broke my heart real quick lmao i didnt expect to start crying when i started to read it.

The One in Which He’s Alive // l.h.

(mobile) masterlist

word count: 2.7k+

summary: it’s in the pouring rain and at two in the morning that suddenly, luke hemmings stands on your doorstep—soaked—to tell you how much he doesn’t miss you.

His hair, his clothes—literally his everything is soaked to the core, as he turns around under the pouring rain and climbs the steps towards your parents’ patio, where he is at least a little more protected from the wetness of the storm. Before you even get one word out, he begins to talk. And he talks. And talks. About how much he doesn’t miss you. How great he is. How much he loves life right now. “I ain’t missing you,” he shouts over the downpour and thunder. “I’ve spent the last months actually living! I feel like I have an actual life again,” he says, throwing his hands out, like he couldn’t keep the excitement in him. He looks at you and grins. The corners of his mouth raise quicker than the lightning that’s bound to come again any second now, and it splits his face in two so violently, you fear it’s going to rip.

“Okay…” you tell him quietly with a raised eyebrow, because you don’t know what else to say to a guy professing his non-existent feelings to you, when just a couple of months prior, you’d been in this exact situation, though then it was him, spending every second trying to convince you how much he loves you.

“Seriously,” Luke says. “I’m so perfect. I don’t miss you at all. Everything’s fine.”

“Luke—”

“I don’t want you and I don’t need you anymore.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you shift your weight onto your other foot and lean against the doorframe. “Luke, why are you here? And why are you telling me this at two in the morning?”

He grins again. “Because I thought about you. Because I’m always thinking about you.” His grin falls for a nanosecond. “But I’m over you. I promise I am. I mean, I’m so alive, baby. You should feel what I feel.” He lifts his hands again, but this time he grips the doorframe with them—which you’re leaning against. His face comes near you, and for a second you think he’s about to kiss you, causing you to back away. You aren’t sure, if the small flinch you see is real or not, but he doesn’t give you a chance to analyse, as he begins to talk again. “Literally every feeling I feel is suddenly enhanced by a hundred. They’re so intense, it still knocks the breath out of me, even after months.”

You don’t answer but rather take in his wet appearance. Sure, there is a cocky grin sitting on his face and there isn’t any alcohol-stench coming from his breath, but still, you feel like he isn’t himself right now. “What’s going on, Luke?” you ask, trying to gently coerce an answer out of him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says immediately, the grin coming back to life.

“You can’t just come here and tell me how fine you are and how much you don’t need me and expect me to believe you are fine. No normal person does this.” Sighing, you uncross your arms, doing something you wouldn’t have thought you’d do, ever again. “Look, if you want, you can come in. I can get you a towel or something and we can talk properly.”

Tonight is just full of surprises, because suddenly, he begins to shake his head no and whines like an actual four-year-old—with an actual voice that’s higher than normal. “No, I don’t want to come in,” he says—or rather moans. “I just wanted to say those things I’ve said and now I’m leaving.”

Rushing to grab hold of his arm before he steps off your patio, you shake your head at him again, though he cannot see that as he has his back turned towards you. “Hold on for a sec, Luke,” you say. “Please.”

Facing you again, he looks at you with an expectant expression. A moment of silence later, he raises an impatient eyebrow.

“It’s just—Just because we aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” And that is the truth. Luke has been such a large part of your life, it is physically impossible to stop caring about him from one sudden moment to another.

This time his eyebrow doesn’t raise in impatience, but rather hurt, it seems. “Yeah…um—thanks, I guess. But I really have to get going.”

You tug at his arm again, getting impatient yourself. “Oh, for God’s sake, just come inside for a minute. You’ll get sick wandering around, dripping as you are.”

It takes you another full minute of pulling at his arm to get him moving, though at last, he steps foot inside the house where it all ended.

///

Do you feel it? My love for you? I don’t, really. Because loving you has become a part of me and my soul—like I was put here on the sole purpose of loving you. I was so used to this feeling that having it ripped away from me felt like ice cold and hot water thrown into my face at the same time. It felt like someone was trying to rip me to shreds from the inside—particularly from my heart.

///

“Here is a towel, and here a change of clothes.” You hand him the pieces of fabrics. “They’re my dad’s, but you two are similar sizes of giant, so I think it’ll fit.” Like you hoped, this raises a genuine smile to his lips, as he takes the clothes and the towel from you, nodding in appreciation.

“I’ll return them to you…someday,” he says, smiling sheepishly. Luke has a reputation of keeping borrowed things, but it doesn’t really matter anyways.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly. Now go change, I don’t want you staining our furniture,” you tell him, before turning around and walking towards the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna fix us some hot chocolate, of course. I sure hope you didn’t have seafood before this.” You grin at him.

///

“You’re gonna make us hot chocolate? Now?” You ask, laughing.

“Why not?” Luke asks, pulling the mugs out of the cupboard.

Jumping onto the counter, you cross your legs and roll your eyes at him as he places the mugs next to your thighs. “Uh, because we just had sea food! You’re gonna throw up.”

“Me? If I have to go through this, then so do you!” he exclaims, laughing, nudging your knee with his hips.

“Excuse me?” You push him away, giggling. “I’m not an idiot! I know the outcome of this equation—I will not drink the hot chocolate!”

Luke ignores you, prepping the two drinks. Then he places one mug beside your thigh. His eyes hold a glint as he smirks. “Oh you will.”

“Not in a million years, Hemmings,” you say, laughing and jumping off the counter. “Why would I?”

Leaving his own mug beside yours, he comes at you slowly—the playful and somewhat also devilish glint still in his eyes. “Because if you do…I’m gonna promise you amazing sex tonight. Sex so amazing, you will never be the same. I’m telling you, babe.”

A snort bursts from your throat as you bend over and cannot contain the laughter in you. “You’re gonna bribe me with sex?” you ask, giving his chest a slap. But you don’t pull your hand away. Instead, you let it wander towards the crook of his neck up to the sides of his face and then you pull him down to you, so you can whisper something in his ear. “Babe. If I wanted, I could just tie you up and give myself the most ah-may-zing sex. I’m an independent ass bitch.”

All of the sudden, his arms are wound tightly around your waists, and your feet aren’t on the ground anymore. Your legs wrap around his hips automatically, as do your arms around his neck. Kisses are being trailed down your throat, as Luke walks you two out of the kitchen. “What about our hot chocolate, huh?” you ask, grinning.

“What hot chocolate?” He smiles at you sweetly, and then captures your mouth with his.

///

Awkward air engulfs you two, as you’re sitting side by side on the small couch, each one blowing at the hot chocolate, trying to quicken its cooling process—or maybe you were just avoiding the person sitting beside you, but who knows?

“Are you alright?” you begin, as you cannot take this god-damn silence any longer. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He lowers the mug slightly, smiling at you. “Like I said, I’m perfectly fine. Everything’s good.” He raises the hot chocolate to his lips and takes a rushed sip. “Fuck,” Luke curses, “that’s hot.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watch him lower the mug and stand up. “I’m just gonna…get myself a glass of water,” he says, pointing to your kitchen and wandering off without waiting for your reply.

Something is definitely wrong with him, you decide. The way he’s acting confuses you. Who the hell visits his ex-girlfriend just to tell her how fine he is? He’s somehow giddy and restless and exhausted at the same time, like he’s on edge. Like he cannot contain whatever’s going on inside him. The shadows underneath his eyes and the scruff on his jaw tells you he hasn’t slept well in a long time, but then again, he never slept long nor well. Luke’s always been a restless person—always working on something in his head or with his guitar. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and have to write or else he’d forget the lyrics that sprung onto him in his dream. You loved being woken by a sleepy Luke and his guitar, though. You loved lying in the dark, listening to his raspy voice singing quiet words you knew were meant for you.

Somehow, you know that nowadays he doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night to write love songs about you anymore.

///

You once said, to be hurt means to be alive. For we cannot feel the hurt, if we aren’t alive and living and putting ourselves out there to be hurt. Well, I’ve spent the last months living. I was hurt. Or rather I am hurt. Everything hurts. Therefore I am, in fact, probably the most alive motherfucker on this planet right now, because it HURTS. What, you might ask? Not having you, is the answer. I love you. With every ounce of my being, with every beat of my heart and every breath I take, I entirely, fully and unconditionally love you.

///

“Please stay the night? It’s four in the morning and the storm doesn’t look like it’s about to pass anytime soon. You can take the guest room,” you say, wringing your hands in front of you. “It’s really no problem, and I’d feel a whole lot better, knowing you aren’t walking home right now.”

There’s another storm, and it’s in his eyes. He’s looking at the wall to your right, debating. You aren’t sure why it is such a hard decision for him to make, but you pray for him to stay. You will never forgive yourself, if he walks away now.

The seconds tick away, and finally, he nods once. “Okay,” he says, throwing you a shy smile. It surprises you, how after everything you two have already been through, he still has his shy moments. But this is just how Luke is, and you love this silent part about him.

Reaching your hand out, you wait for him to give you his mug, though, instead, he stands up as well. “I got it,” he says. “It’s the least I can do.”

///

Even to death, one might say.

///

She hands you the letter with her eyes lowered so you won’t see the tears in her eyes, but you do anyways. You’ve never seen her cry before. She’s someone you cannot even imagine how she’d look crying, because she is one of the happiest people you know, but now you do. You see the redness of the tender skin around and on her eyelids, the tremble of her lips and the crease between her eyebrows as she tries to hold the dam back. She looks smaller somehow. Like she doesn’t have enough energy to straighten her back. Like she is already focusing everything in her to keep herself from falling apart.

You don’t blame her. Rather you blame yourself.

Your hand comes up to wipe away a tear you haven’t noticed before. Between taking in her broken appearance and staring at the letter in her hand, you haven’t paid attention to your own body and emotions. Now that you reach for the letter, you notice the penetrating pain in your chest which keeps your lungs from working properly.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Liz whispers softly. She presses the letter into your stomach, but instead of removing her hand after you clutch it with both of yours, she encloses it around your trembling ones and squeezes. One hand comes up to brush the hair from your face. It’s wet and sticky around your skin. “It wasn’t your fault,” she says firmly, her eyes a hard and genuine blue. Her palm stays against your cheek. You can feel her thumb soothingly wipe the continuous stream of tears away, as her own flows down her face.

And then she leans in and hugs you. Her arms come around your shoulders tightly, and she squeezes seemingly every emotion into you. And somehow she slowly squeezes yours out of you. And she rubs your back with one hand, shushing. She holds you, as both of you try to fix your hearts with this one hug.

///

Dear love,

You once said, to be hurt means to be alive. For we cannot feel the hurt, if we aren’t alive and living and putting ourselves out there to be hurt. Well, I’ve spent the last months living. I was hurt. Or rather I am hurt. Everything hurts. Therefore I am, in fact, probably the most alive motherfucker on this planet right now, because it HURTS. What, you might ask? Not having you, is the answer. I love you. With every ounce of my being, with every beat of my heart and every breath I take, I entirely, fully and unconditionally love you. Even to death, one might say.

Do you feel it? My love for you? I don’t, really. Because loving you has become a part of me and my soul—like I was put here on the sole purpose of loving you. I was so used to this feeling that having it ripped away from me felt like ice cold and hot water thrown into my face at the same time. It felt like someone was trying to rip me to shreds from the inside—particularly from my heart.

I was hurting before my heart was crushed—before you begin to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. This whole thing (us breaking up) started because of what I was going through. None of this is your fault. I never want you to feel that. I never wanted you to feel any of the hurt I felt, in fact, and I might burn in hell, if you are. I’m sorry, my love. I’m a selfish son of a bitch, and I couldn’t leave without seeing you for one last time. I cannot apologise enough.

Please forgive me.

Yours truly, an angel (as of recently)

PS: That was me, trying to lighten the mood.

PPS: I love you.

PPPS: So so much.

///

“Call me, if you need anything, okay?” you tell him, helping him adjust the sweater of your father you’ve given him around his broad shoulders.

“Will do, love.” Your heart clenches at the nickname, but you solely smile. It feels good to hear it.

He looks at you with a look that causes your insides to churn and your legs to wobble. Then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the space between your temple and forehead—something he does when he wants to kiss both at the same time, he once said. Turning on his heels, he quickly jumps down the steps of your front porch, leaving you to watch him walk away under the clear blue sky after a storm. It reminds you of the colour of his eyes.

a/n holy shit. i was—and still am—seriously debating whether or not i should put this online. the idea came to me after listening to missin’ you by the summer set for some unknown reason, as that song is not a sad song at all. i’m scared to put this out there, since it doesn’t have a happy ending. but then again, not all stories do. and i’m sure you know, this is purely fictional and i simply borrowed luke as a solely fictional character for a just as fictional story. 

as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

much love. my inbox is open. always.

i can legit read this a million times and cry each time 😭😭😭😭

Cherry Wine / NCT

MarkxReader

Genre: University!AU / romance / drama / fluff / angst

Warning: mentions of alcohol consumption, drug-use, sex, mental health, unhealthy relationships

In the whirlwind of growing up, is also a desire to love and be loved. But love is complicated. And unfortunately, so is Mark Lee. 

something to listen to if you want

extras: x

Chapter 1

it’s looks ugly, but it’s clean. Oh Momma don’t fuss over me.

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6 

part 7

part 8

part 9

part 10

part 11

part 12

Chapter 2

But I want it. It’s a crime. That she’s not around most of the time. 

part 13

part 14

part 15

part 16

part 17

part 18

part 19 (1) , (2)

part 20

part 21 (finale)

The Pact - masterlist

Premise: You learned a few days ago that the boys have pact that doesn’t allow them to make a move on you. What happens when they find out that you know?

Warnings: none as far as I know! lol except for this reader. she has no idea what she just got herself into

Pairing: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly tho)

Uploading schedule: Saturday’s

Did you know that this could classify as a small book? The Pact currently totals: 115 pages.

Spooked (important, the oneshot that started it all. read this first.)

 Well, this is awkward…

 Date #1 ✨✨

 Date #2 🌉🌉

 Date #3 📖📖

 Date #4 ✈️✈️

 Date #5 🥡🥡

 Date #6 ☔☔

the pact 📃📃

 Date #7 🌟🌟

I loved her first 💔💔

 Shocker

join the taglist

Book Rec #1: My first book recommendation EVER!

Obviously I don’t read enough to make more recommendations lol, BUT ANYWAYS…

For anyone looking for an intense read (at least by my standards) - give this book a shot!! The Maidens by Alex Michaelides

Throughout the entirety of the story you feel comfortable and confident in your deductions and conclusions, but by the end your gut is churned like butter, your heart is aching beyond belief and you realize you can’t trust your intuition as a reader sometimes.

But if a story doesn’t make you feel like that then it’s either poorly written or it’s not really in your genre arsenal, and you should probably keep looking for a more suitable read.

This book was one I really debated purchasing because a) I’m frugal as f*** and b) I had never read anything really within this genre (which is surprising because it’s right up my alley) or from this author for that matter. BUT, it has quickly become my favorite book I’ve ever read this far.

The author, Alex Michaelides, also wrote the highly acclaimed ‘The Silent Patient’, so if you’ve read that and loved it, you’ll probably love this as well!!

Plus he wrote this mostly through quarantine so at least we know one good thing came out of that shit storm year 😂

8/10✨

PSA: I’d say it’s pretty tame in descriptions but some of the content is really some “WTF 🤭😐🤢” type shit, so YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

get all those beautiful cards guys, they're soooo pretty

last year I bought them as a present but when they arrived I almost didn't want to give them away because they're so pretty and such high quality! Looking forward to getting more!

When will the decks be up for ordering again? Just found out about your project and I'm so in love with the art!

Hi! If there is enough demand I will reopen the store! (:

WHY IS THE FAULT IN OUR STARS SO SAD NO ONE PREPARED ME FOR THIS

I recommend all my fellow TTTE fan's listen to this, I could so imagen the engines of Sodor singing this during the early days of the railway when it was first being built. Regardless, it's such an awesome listen!

Home // Ask //Cardd // Memes // Interest Tracker // Muse Vote // Starter Symbols

Independent multimuse One Piece blog focusing on the Ladies of the Sea. Mutuals only

Warning: This blog portrays violence, slavery and murder. This is your warning, if you are not ready for this part of the source material then this is not the blog for you.

i      am   .  /   ,        THE     END  :    /       𝐨𝐟      𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐬 :   ,  !           [      the      END      of      the      CARNAGE  ;  ,              THE      END / … ,        [    THIS      𝙸𝚂      WASETLAND :   ,  !     ]

THE      HUNDRED’S        / .   ,             *  CLARKE      GRIFFIN       / .  .  .  ,              as      commanded      by      cola   :     ,   !         [     sideblog      to      peirsona :   ,  !     ]

It Will Come Back 🕮⛧ James Hetfield (18+)

Part Two of Summon Me

Mentions/Warnings: demon!james, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

Glass bottles' bottoms are clacking themselves together in a loud and rhythmic unison as your roommate hurries her way back inside of your guys' shared dormitory and kitchen, and the abrupt way she nearly drops them on the dining room table in front of you, has you jumping in shocked fright. You're unable ask her what's wrong, before she's manically reaching into the paper bag to rip a beer out of a six pack.

"God, I fucking hate Halloween," she expels during a small pause in between her taking large gulps of the lightly colored beverage. "I swear, it feels like every year since we ended up doing that séance, we've been cursed." Your eyebrows raise on their own accord, and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.

"We, as in you and me, we? Because from what I remember, I came home and found you and your friend drunk off your asses, with a ouija board and a burnt planchette on the living room floor." You raise your hand to solidify your statement by showing off the healed scar on your palm, and only relax back into your seat once she sends you an apologetic smile and tosses her empty bottle in the direction of the trash can.

"Yeah, sorry about all of that," her tone is dismissive, yet soft, and you lower your hand back down onto your book as she moves closer to you by sliding her elbows against the wood. Lifting her forearms to hold her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, you see her fight off a shiver and purposefully look around really slowly. "But you can feel it too, right? It comes and goes every few weeks, but I swear, it always gets colder and darker this time of year. And the fucking scratch marks on the cabinets get longer each year too. I swear I'm not crazy."

You purse your lips to hide your smile, and lift up a shoulder in response as you pinch the used and worn pieces of paper together in the back of your novel. "I think whatever happened that night, you definitely invited something in here, and it just likes to mess with you is all," using a rugged and already half torn edge of the page you stopped on to dog ear it for later, you close your book and go to move your chair back, but stop when you notice the look on her face.

Using her left index finger that's free from underneath her chin, she points at you and narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?" She interrogates, and you force your expression to remain neutral, even as your fingertips turn white as you tighten your hold around your item. "You said me, instead of we. Is there something going on that I don't know about? Have you and Steve been fucking with me?"

You're pushing your chair from further behind you with the backs of your knees by the time she has her eyes narrowed in on you, and you perceptibly shake your head. "I haven't said more than five words to Steve within the past three years he's been around, much less have conspired with him to make you any more paranoid than usual, roomie."

A shrill scream comes from a few feet away from the partially open back door and outside, and this time, it's your roommate that jumps, and then screams. Red and multicolored led lights are displayed and emanating all throughout your dormitory from all sides from the other surrounding homes, and for a second, she looks like she's in a horror movie. A handful of children running around laughing can be seen through the crack, before she lets out a frustrating sigh and kicks it to a full close. The chain is colliding with the doorframe and then bouncing in place by the time she's grinding her teeth together, and you hesitantly take a step back.

"I think I'm just going to head to my room and finish this up," you murmur in the now completely silent home, and nod your head towards the recyclable bag she came running in with just a few minutes ago. "Make sure to save some for the friends you invited over last week, and happy early Halloween." You take her eyes widening in recollection as enough of a goodbye to turn around and start walking down the hall, only to pause at the obvious burn mark still etched into the wood of your guys' shared living room floor.

To this day, it looks brand new, even after your roommate and her friend tirelessly attempted to scrub it away, in fear of the owner of the house seeing it and deducting even more money from the down payment you two put down after every lease renewal. The sliver of scarred skin itches on the edge of your palm, and excitement whirls in your midsection. Peering over your shoulder to look at the clock and then into the entryway of the kitchen, you hastily and excitedly pace the rest of the way to your bedroom, before locking the door behind you and tugging out the folded up pages from the back of your book.

Using the now blue and purple lights flashing their way through your bedroom's curtains to carefully open the paper from the spell book you stole two years ago, you smile down at the full incantation, before setting it down to get the rest of your supplies. In less than thirty minutes, you'll be seeing him again.

⛧

Three large candles are placed right in front of your crossed legs and bent knees, and you place the new and sterilized needle on your thigh, with your eyes anxiously glancing back to the digital clock resting precariously on your desk every few seconds. As soon as twelve makes itself apparent in the bright red numbers being displayed, you're leaning forward to read the already memorized short spell out loud, and carefully pricking your right index finger.

"I summon thee, on the night on Halloween, to feast upon me in the hopes of everlasting fulfillment."

The wet and darkened bead travels itself down your fingertip in a slow and taunting pace, before collecting at your nailbed, and dripping down onto the page. A steady stream of cold air wafts its way over to you and causes goosebumps to raise on your bare skin, and you grin instead of jolt when two hands are audibly smacking themselves on your nearest bedroom's window. Two bright irises stare at you through your nearly see through fabric, and a brush of heat collects itself as James' sharp teeth greet you from the other side of the glass.

You're on your feet before your head can catch up with the rest of your body, and your hands shake as you eagerly unlatch the window's lock on it and push the aged wood upwards. "You know you can just appear in my bedroom like usual, you didn't have to wait outside." Your voice somehow sounds stable in spite of the insurmountable adrenaline pumping through you, and you allow yourself to be guided backwards as he makes his way inside and delicately beckons you back with a large hand.

Thick and long, sharp nails mold themselves around the curve of your waist, and he grins down at you, before peeking his narrowed tongue out to dampen his lips. "As if I would be alright with doing the exact same shit every year," he responds in a lazy drawl, his eyelids barely fluttering in a blink as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. "Especially with you, after finding out how much you enjoy the dramatics."

You scoff and lightly push at his shoulder, your breath catching in your chest as he wraps his other hand around your wrist to pull you flush against his front. "And who keeps digging their nails into the same cabinets every year to scare my roommate?" You shakily breathe, your earlier adrenaline turning into needily want as the hand he has on your waist grazes down to the upper hem of your underwear and shorts.

James amusingly hums, before bending down to brush your foreheads together, his grin transforming into a smirk as he notices you stopping yourself from inching forward. "And yet, who keeps summoning me back every year in tradition, hm?" The question is whispered into the small swell of cold air in between you two, and he immediately responds to you after you jerk forward to slot your lips with his.

Tendrils of his blonde hair make contact with your bare shoulders as he lifts you and presses you up against the wall, and they connect with yours as he frees a hand to use it to tilt your head upward. The sharp nails dig deliciously into your sensitive skin, and he grunts in praise when you obediently open your mouth at the first tap of his fingers on your jaw.

The rough texture of his tongue is the complete juxtaposition to yours, and it somehow makes everything even more stimulating. His slim appendage slides out from his own wet cavern to lap at your own, and the hold he has on you tightens as you use your own to lick a slow and tantalizing line on the roof of his mouth. The sound of you two disconnecting is sopping wet and filthy, and warmth pools in your groin as he cleans up the strands of saliva still keeping you two together with the tip of his tongue, before swallowing them down.

"Missed how good you taste," he admits softly while looking in your eyes, and you're fully relaxed in his hold by the time he's nudging your head to the side to suck marks into your clavicle. Your legs raise to shakily wrap themselves around his middle as his teeth teasingly scrape against your reddened skin, and you feel his smile as your pulse quickens underneath him. "Here," he hums, and smiles to himself at the gasp you let out when he lifts you up another few inches. He's pressing his open mouth on your clothed breasts and inhaling in, like he can still taste you through the fabric. "Here." Your legs loosen and unwrap themselves as your knees graze his ribs, as he raises you even further. Hard and hot impressions grow against your chest as he's using his nails to rip your shirt into two, and you moan once you realize his horns are beginning to grow.

Thickened saliva pools at the front of your flimsy bra before it's torn apart, and you bite back a wail as he fills his entire mouth with your tit. His incisors retreat as he creates hickeys around your perked nipple, and his own moan reverberates around the room as you loosely make fists around his horns and hold onto them for desperate leverage.

He only separates from you to lick the taste of your own flesh into your mouth and partially greet you with a devilish and wolfish grin. "I need you to hold on tight for me, doll. Think you can do that for me?" His deliverance is borderline condescending, but you can't find it in yourself to care as he positions you to have your legs resting on his shoulders, and then he's squatting down. "What are you doing?" Is barely being stuttered out, before he's sliding the cotton fabric of your shorts and underwear to the side, and making out with your pussy.

The sound that escapes you sounds like a scream, and you couldn't be more grateful to the music your roommate began playing just minutes after you headed to your bedroom. James takes his time taking you apart, with each of your lips and your clit being licked and lapped at, and sucked into his hot and searing mouth. If you weren't holding onto his horns for grounding, you'd be gripping your hands in the strands of his hair, or reaching up to dig your nails into the ceiling.

James is hungrily slurping in and dripping out your essence and slick repeatedly as he travels and maps his way through your folds and down to your entrance. Heat jolts down your spine, and you go ramrod straight as your first orgasm pummels into you by the time he's got the tip of his tongue drawing circles and rimming itself against your fluttering hole. He's moaning as you bead and gush around him, and his movements become even more lively after he feeds off of your pleasure and energy.

Panic temporarily sifts through you as your back is being removed from against the wall, but you're placated as he holds onto your waist stands back up to his full height. The top of your head makes light contact with the ceiling of your bedroom, and your thighs shake around his head as he blindly walks you both over to your bed, with his lips still pursed and parted against you. A shocked bout of laughter bellows its way out of you as you're playfully dropped on top of your blankets and sheets, and your widened eyes soften at his rocked and disheveled state that greets you once you look up.

A sheen of your own release is covering the entire lower half of his face, and his eyes grow dark when you decide to lift your still slowly bleeding finger and bring it up to his lips. Red flashes to an almost black as he welcomes the press of you in, and your eyes nearly cross as he secretes a salve to your wound after suckling it clean.

"Do you remember what I gave you permission to do to me, three years ago?" You implore once you're sure your voice isn't going to shake and betray you. You can see him trying to figure it out on his own, but he's too high over your newly transferred vigor and blood that he can't wrap his head around your question. Encircling a hand around his wrist like he had done to you earlier, you hungrily lick at the residual shared tasted of you both of your lips, before guiding his hand down to in between your legs. "I said you could use me, and feed from me."

James' cockhead spurts prerelease in the confines of his jeans, and his hips buck forward on their own once his hand is placed to rest on top of your pussy. Making the conscious and safe decision to retract his nails before sliding and curving his index and middle fingers inside of you, his chest heaves at the sinful sound you make when he does. Circling his digits to rub his fingertips against your spongelike spot until your strings of arousal are nearly wrapping themselves around his wet wrist, his teeth begin to pang with the exertion of having to keep his fangs at bay.

"You can't even imagine the things I want to do to you, sweetheart," he purrs, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as venom stings against his gums and his horns elongate to their full height. He drives his fingers up into you to their hilt, and then pulls them out until they're nearly completely out of you. "I want to sink my fangs into your jugular and drink you dry, and then feed you my own to heal you. I want to fuck you until you're full of my seed and then eat it out of you, and have you suck the taste of yourself off of my tongue. I want you to feel me whenever you sit down for the next week."

Your eyes roll back, and your legs seize once he adds in his ring finger, and you can't stop yourself from bending your legs against the side of the bed, and yanking yourself down to try and ride them. James beads in his briefs, and a wet stain is visible through his fabric, even in the near pitch black. Red irises stare down at you, and then almost slam shut as he watches you relentlessly try to fuck yourself up and down his digits. "So fucking needy, aren't you? Has it really been that long? I thought it's only been a little bit over a week."

You sit up in a shock when he begins to scissor his fingers inside of you, and the new position has him pressing directly against your spot with the full weight of his hand. You cry out and place your hands on his forearm to stop his movements, and the tremors in your lower half have you shaking uncontrollably and shifting the blankets and sheets on your bed. "Isn't the same when it isn't Halloween, you don't have your horns," you stumble around and freeze in euphoria when he ignores your silent plea to stop. A full circle of his wrist and a come hither motion has you letting go of his arm to fist his shirt instead, as overwhelmed and overstimulated tears make their way down your cheeks. Regardless of how hungry and insatiable he's feeling, James is careful when he removes his fingers from inside of you, and he pauses in place when you refuse to let go of his cotton. Sucking in a shuttering inhale and blinking around the salty sting, you motion for him to take off his shirt, before only letting go to reach down and shakily unbuckle his belt. "I want to ride you."

Your trembling right hand is pressing itself against his swollen dick before he can even verbalize an answer, and you use the rest of your strength to pull him down on top of you, and then flip you guys' over. Tears slightly blur your vision as you unstably unbutton his jeans and tug them down past his upper thighs, but you can still recognize the awe in is gaze. A human version of a hand is running itself through the mane on the side of your head, and you pause your ministrations to lean into the hold, and then his briefs are falling down with his pants. "You don't have to if you aren't up for it, doll. I saw you almost slip into subspace earlier." He gasps as you curl a fist around his length after licking your palm slick beforehand, and the gentle grip in your hair tightens. You mewl at the sensation, and carefully shake your head as you gather yourself and stabilize while straddling his lap.

His free hand comes down to hold you upright as you reach back to grasp onto him, with him hissing at the sensitivity as his cockhead brushes against your still sopping entrance. "Wanna take care of you, just like you take care of me," you almost whisper, and your train of thought gets temporarily lost as you slowly sit yourself down on his dick. The slight twinge of pain is still there regardless of his earlier fingering, and you sigh in relief as his wide girth stretches you to your brink. "You always fill me so well, like you were made for me." The hand on your side pinches itself into your skin, but you ignore the slight discomfort as you fully position yourself up onto your feet. Placing both of your hands on his naked and sweating middle, you both curse out loud with the first slide.

The first time you bottom with your full body weight, your legs almost give out from underneath you, with him pressed so perfectly against your cervix it almost brings tears to your eyes. The hand in your hair slides down to grip onto your ass, and then moves forward to begin to tease at your swollen and bulbous clit. "I was made to fuck you just like this, and for you to use me," James breathily responds, his skin overheating and burning as you bounce up and down his length with reckless abandon. Every single swing of your hips and stuttered pulsing thrust has him spurting small beads of precum in you, and when he feels the telltale sign he's going to cum, he flips you two around. "I can't have my good girl doing all of the work herself, now can I?"

He's burying himself fully into you and sheathing his girth into and against your stretched out and slick walls before you can answer, and all you can do is hold on. The blankets and sheets beneath you shift and crumple in, and you have to wrap a shaking leg around him in fear of sliding off the bed with the force and desperation behind his thrusts. The sounds coming out of you sound strangled and animalistic, and they turn into teary jerks of his name when he reaches down in between you two to stimulate you even further.

He barely even has to tap his thumb against you, because you're already falling apart. You've had countless amounts of rounds of sex with him sporadically over the past few years, but it never feels the same or becomes tiresome and boring. You reach up to dig your nails into his back's skin, knowing that he likes a little bit of pain of his own, and he's bearing himself into you so harshly and deeply, your top halves are sliding off the bed.

A hand is taking the brunt of the fall near your head, and you're nearly bent in half as he continues to use you for his own gain. The new position has your eyes rolling in the direction of the back of your head, and you can feel his skin breaking underneath your fingers as you hold on for dear life. The next piercing thrust has you silently gasping and going completely pliant and numb in his grasp, and you slowly fade off as your third orgasm within the last half an hour shoots through you. James is still pistoling himself in and out of you, before your abused and sore pussy walls constrict in just the right way, and he's filling you with his seed.

Shakily using his knees still pressed against the bed to carefully glide you two down to fully lie down on your carpeted floor, James places kisses to the crown of your head and rubs small circles in your side until you slowly start to resurface and come back to. "There you are." He greets you, his tone hoarse from his own moans and from how spent he now is, regardless of how much he just took from you. Your eyes are refocusing on him and then your eyebrows are furrowing at the itchy fabric being pressed into your forearms. Looking further down and seeing where you two ended up, you're only able to maintain a few seconds of calm eye contact with him, before you're both shaking in silent and hysterical laughter.

The room becomes completely dark once the candles meet their end less than a handful of feet away, and the neighboring lights fade as their owner's head to bed. Tiredly lifting your head to lean forward and kiss him with as much energy you can muster, you smile against his bruised red lips, and murmur, "happy Halloween." The same sentiment is being gently said back to you, and James holds onto you until you catch your breath and go to clean up, and until the morning sun threatens to rise.

You hold back a shiver as the wind from your open bedroom window cascades itself down your arms and legs, with that being the only skin not protected and covered by James' oversize shirt. You're tugged into a tight embrace, and then he's hefting himself back out of your window. "Maybe don't wait until Halloween to summon me again, alright?" He grins at you, and holds onto the window frame as he leans back to evade your halfhearted swat.

"As long as you stop scaring the shit out of my roommate, and just appear in my bedroom next time." You try to reason, but with the fucked out and content expression on his face, and the loose movement in his posture before he lets himself fall back, you know he isn't fully listening. Perking up at the mention of her, he goes to reassure you that he won't, even though he knows that he's going to end up messing with her again. He's got a tradition to uphold, and he is a creature of habit.

⛧

James makes sure to listen in for any movement coming from the front part of the shared dormitory, before entering through the back door. Turning the kitchen light off to make sure his horns and elongated nails can't be seen in his shadow, he makes his way over to their pantry to unscrew the cabinet doors until they fall off.

Once he's done with his handy work, he purposefully pushes a half empty beer bottle off of the table, and makes his way back outside as multiple pairs of footsteps run their way towards the dining area.

A bright light is turned on, and then a frustrated scream can be heard, even as he rounds his way back towards the front of the house.

"I swear to God, I think I'm losing my mind! Someone sedate me!" He hears her scream, and he laughs to himself, before Steve's adding in. "The scratch marks were right there just less than an hour ago! Where the hell could they have gone?" James readjusts the damaged wooden doors in his arms, and sends you a wolfish grin when he sees you peering down at him with an incredulous and exasperated look on your face.

"Call me." He sends up to you, and you can't help but smile to yourself as he walks away, and then disappears.

Raising your now sore arms to push your window to a close and relatch the lock, you make a pitstop and bend down to grab onto the page ripped out of the spell book, before crawling back into your messy bed. The blood drop is now gone from the piece of paper, but you can still taste the residual of it from when you kissed him on the carpet. Satiated bliss weighs you down, and its got you easily closing your eyes and almost immediately falling asleep. Tightening your hold on the paper and rearranging yourself before you do, your last thought is.

'I am definitely calling him again.'

"A lie will go round the world before the truth can get its boots on."

Little cover redesign for the Truth, my favorite Discworld I've read so far this year.

The character designs are like. Ridiculously inspired by @potato-lord-but-not so please for the love of Om go look at his incredible drawings of these goofy newspaper people.

Tumblr doesn't like my big file size, so click for better quality :)

just reread the Heir to the House of Prince and hooooo boy there is a reason it is my favourite fanfic it's so good. so. good. oh my gosh. just the plot and the relationships and the emotion and ugh holy shit I love it so much. managed to binge all six hundred and something K in a day too so my brain feels like rot.

By God, please commission them (or ask me to commission him again. Because I will. I'm just looking for an excuse.)

Writing Commissions

Rewriting this a little to fix it. I have things I need to save up for, lots of free time and no job just yet, which leaves doing writing commissions properly!

You can find examples of my writing here on my ‘My Stories’ tag or my Finished Commissions tag!

I will write about;

OCs so long as I receive adequate information about the OCs in question

Any fandom so long as I can find adequate information on this as well

NSFW, though it’ll cost 10$ more

I will absolutely not write about anything that involves pedophilia, bestiality or incest. You can IM me about these commissions to talk further about this, and I accept payment via my Paypal.

It’ll be penny commissions, IE a penny a word like so;

100 words - 1$

500 words - 5$

1k words - 10$

and so on. In some cases I may not reach the full word length of the story, example it’s 99 words instead of 100, you’ll only owe 99 cents and sometimes, I may go over the word limit, but you won’t owe me anything more than the set price you’ve paid for the commission.

All you have to do is send me an IM about the commission so we can talk further before we work out the details and pricing of the commission.

Thanks for reading this!