and what it felt like to write under another name

Home (Part 6) // Stiles Stilinski

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6 (FINAL)

Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Stiles x reader
Word Count: 3,349
Warnings: Angst, cussing
Request from @a-queen-is-better-than-king:  “Hi could you do an imagine where the reader is Deucalion’s daughter and she leaves with him but returns to beacon hills. And she goes to see stile but it’s not really him it’s the nogitsuni. And since he was to feel pain he breaks her heart and tries to make her loose control please and thank you”

A/N: Here is it, folks. The final installment of Home! It only took me about a year to write six measly chapters to a story heh … enjoy! Thanks for all the support! I gotta say, I am pretty pleased with how this turned out so I hope y’all feel the same way!

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Perhaps - A Cullen x Trevelyan smut

Title; Perhaps

Pairing; Cullen Rutherford x Evae Trevelyan (my oc)


Words; 3812

Summary; Evae catches Cullen doing something she would never have expected. Smut ensues. 

Genre; Fluff, smut, romance

Under the cut, pls read and review or reblog or like or something.

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This Distance Between Us

Fandom: Satan and Me
Ship: Natan
Word Count: 2000
Rating/Content: Just fluffy nonsense
Summary: When Natalie goes to college, her and Satan agree to cut ties. Satan finds himself struggling with the promise after she acquires his number.
A/N: Commissioned by @kohiiandink for @astarisms. “Back at you, you little shit” - kohii 2k16. My commissions are still open! if you’re interested please check out my info page here!

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Say it. You are not made of straws.
Your fingers can hold porcelain, maybe you still have
nightmares of being a scarecrow but remember
that your legs can stand without electric wires.
Your back can unfold like a blueprint of a universe
and some parts can be constellations named after
the first time you felt connected to another being.
Someone who believed you were anything but impossible
even when there were parts of you that got stuck like blackholes
or a set of meteors about to hit another. There will be days,
when your lungs are asking to be under water.
Write those days in your diary, and count how many
entries you spent writing about wanting to be loved,
forgetting what it feels like to be the one loving,
and holding, and breathing for another. Your body
is not made of straws when your fingers can still write words,
when your lungs can still hold and let go of
something as precious as air. Say it.
You are anything but impossible. If you are,
then darling you don’t need to apologize for being
more, or even less, of what people are asking for,
when you are only being yourself.
—  Another Poem I Will Never Get Tired of Writing by Kharla M. Brillo