#*writings

[alexstandoll]

sometimes i just wanna burn my life

with memories of you.

[atharian-archived]

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: Memories in Nightmares

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: The Sandman (Netflix)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Sequel to The Past Is Prologue.

History begins to seemingly repeat itself as young Alexandra Gadling begins to suffer from a series of nightmares that unknowingly plagued her biological mother throughout her own childhood…

The past is never forgotten - as Morpheus is about to learn. But at what cost?

𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝: Sept 2022 / now updating 2023

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤(𝐬): Archive of Our Own

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Work in Progress | prologue & chapter one now up.

[bestwrestleralivetm]

What the fuck are you doing?

The words echoed in his head as Max opened up the DM from... actually, he didn't know her name. He was just thinking of her as Ginger, since that seemed to be her thing. Hot, red-headed OnlyFans and cam model. She'd sent him a few messages last night- nothing too terrible, but still, she was definitely flirting with him... but he hadn't answered.

He'd thought about it, because why not? He'd behaved himself for so long, and it wasn't like he would actually be doing anything. It wasn't like he was meeting up with her or something like that, he'd just say a few nice things, fan her ego a little. He'd already retweeted the link she'd sent out- nothing wrong with that, right?

Sure, he'd clicked the link. It wasn't like he'd subscribed, or anything. Just a click.

No big deal. Right? It wasn't any different than watching some porn. Well, except for the fact that this woman was someone that was legitimately in his DMs, but whatever. No harm, no foul.

Everyone was always saying he couldn't be faithful, no one believed that he really meant it when it came to Kris. Well, his friends did, they knew him well enough to known when he was serious, but everyone else? He knew his reputation, knew it was well-earned. He couldn't really blame people for not believing it was real, especially when they didn't know about the kid factor.

"Fuck it." The words were muttered aloud, low and under his breath, fingers tapping out a quick response to the DMs before he really let himself think about it.

Hey, Tweeted out your link, hope it gets you some traffic. 🙂 Thanks for loving the Acclaimed!

There. Pretty innocuous, all good. Clicking the screen of his phone off, Max set it down on the kitchen counter, grabbing the cup of coffee he'd prepped for Kris, heading into their bedroom to wake her up.

[leighon]

license

dabbling in leon’s history, circa ‘93; locations are fictional

***

Leon gripped the steering wheel with both hands, staring straight ahead. The hum of the engine idling was second only to the scratch of the proctor’s pencil against the thin paper strapped to the clipboard. “Well, I have to say, you’re the best kid I’ve had this week,” she said, peering over her thick glasses. “90. You pass.”

He sighed heavily, shoulders slumping down in uncompressed relief. “Thank...thank you, ma’am,” he mumbled. 

“I will say, I think you would have done even better if you had just relaxed a little more,” she remarked as she handed over his sheet. “You were driving as if your life depended on it.” 

That’s because it did, he thought, but chuckled politely.

“Pull around to the front of the lot over there, where the reserved spots are, and you can head back inside. The lady at the desk will take care of your paperwork.” 

He did as was instructed, although his hands shook so badly that he could barely get his seatbelt unbuckled. The proctor left without him, and in the moment that he locked the car, breathing deep the fresh, spring air, he reached into his front pocket for his cigarettes. The windows of the DMV were straight ahead, and he could see the back of his mother’s permed hair, so he thought better of it. 

He shuffled across the parking lot, through the sliding doors, where his mother didn’t look up from her magazine until he was standing directly in front of her. “Well?” she asked, snapping her gum. “How’d you do?” 

He nodded to himself, jitters still coursing through his hands. “I passed,” he said finally.

She folded up her magazine and shoved it down into her purse. “Good job,” she replied. The sentiment was honest, but it was followed by: “now I don’t have to drag you along when I want to go out, like when you were five.” 

Leon’s already weak smile faded. “Yup,” he said as he bit his lip. 

It was six months worth, all told. Six months of driving school and driving hours, of taking his mother back and forth from errands, clubs, and occasionally dates. The last incident dredged itself up in Leon’s mind--four hours waiting in the car on a deserted side-street in Medford. 

(Leon woke up from a doze by a man rapping his knuckles on the window. “Hey!” he barked, an arm firmly wrapped around his mother’s waist, “Shelly, who’s this?”

“Oh, that’s just my kid brother, he’s fine,” she insisted, fixing her lipstick in a compact. “He’s trying to put in hours for his licence.” 

“Huh, you never mentioned having a brother,” he commented. “Seems a little young, don’t he?” 

“He’s--he was--you know, he was an accident, you know how it is…” She turned away from him, leaning her rear against the car, and her speech became illegible. 

Leon blinked as the adrenaline faded, forcing himself awake. It was nearly midnight; last time he checked the time, it was just before 11. The book in his lap had closed when he was startled, its place forgotten in its yellowing pages. As he came back into focus, he kept his eyes forward as his mother’s ass was pressed against the window...)

“Joey, sign there.” 

He was brought back to himself again at the counter, staring down the paperwork to confirm his license. All the details were there: 53 Stanton Road, Somerville MA. Born May 8th, 1977. Blue eyes--that was close enough; they were really closer to gray, but there was no check box on the stock form for that. Brown hair. Five feet, nine inches. 160 pounds. Organ donor. 

Donovan, Joseph Leonard. 

He wrinkled his nose at the name. He hadn’t liked being called that for a while, but couldn’t really put a finger on why. Maybe it was the tiniest bit of change he could muster, some small thing he could control. “Leon” was cooler, in his mind. It was also a transformation of his middle name, so others could get the connection. He had tried asking people to call him that when he started high school, and, for the most part, it had worked. Now, it was only his mother who called him Joey.

And he flinched when he heard it.

“Hello, are you all there?” she scolded, pinching his shoulder. “It’s like you fell asleep. Initial up there, sign there.”

He nodded wordlessly, and signed the form.

Even when they returned to the car, the excitement settled back into misery in the pit of Leon’s stomach. “Now if anything goes wrong with this car, you have to pay for it, okay?” his mother said. She pulled down the blinder and touched up her lipstick in its mirror. “Bad enough I have to register the damn thing again.” 

Leon shoved the temporary license in the blinder above his head in the driver’s seat. “I can register it,” he said. 

“No, you can’t. You’re not old enough. You have to wait until you’re eighteen.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should just sell it.” 

“No!” Leon blurted, twisting his hand on the steering wheel. “N-no, you promised I could...I’ll pay for everything, gas, repairs, whatever.” 

She glanced at him from the side. “You’ll pay for the registration, then?”

“Sure.” 

Mentally, Leon added up the paychecks he would need to cover everything. Then, he realized he had no idea how much that was. I’m going to have to get a better job this summer, he thought as he started the engine. No way is that envelope of money Aunt Sally left me going to cover everything…

“I hope so,” she said. “Or else you’ll owe me. Then, it’s bye-bye to the car.”

Leon shifted the car in reverse and wrapped his hand around the passenger side headrest to back out. “Watch it! Don’t touch my hair,” she snapped.

He bit his cheek. Maybe you ought to ditch the perm, he thought to himself. Does Mom even know about the money Aunt Sally left me? I feel like I can’t even think about it or else she’ll find it. She’ll snatch it if she finds it, and then I really won’t have anything. 

Two more years. Then, the car can be in my name. Then, I’ll be an adult, legally. Then, I’m outta here. 

[leighon]

90. [leon]

I have slept. I’ve been sleeping. Ray’s going on vacation next week so he’s pulling shifts like crazy at work. It means I don’t work til Sunday. But work’s the only thing keeping me grounded lately. I have bad dreams about my mom all the time. But I still sleep. And sleep. And sleep. I don’t know what day it is.

There’s a knock on the door. “Leeeeoooon.”

It’s a gentle, sing-song voice. I can’t lift my head. There’s more tapping on the door, like nails against it. “Leeeooon, are you gonna come out?”

The door opens a crack. Leigh peeks their head in. “Oh man, Leon...”

Yeah, they see me sleeping in my jeans and a pile of dirty clothes like a nest...fuckin’ pathetic. Nonetheless, they find a place to sit, gingerly on the edge of the mattress. They rub their hand on my back and it’s cold. “Hey. You haven’t been out for a couple days. Are you okay?”

I groan. It’s only been that long? I bury my head in the pillow.

“Sorry I haven’t been here to check on you.”

Dude, you shouldn’t have to...it’s okay, I’ll just rot here until I figure out how to exist again...

They comb their hand through my hair, gentle even though their nails snag on some knots. I turn my head so one eye can see them. Their nails are painted some blue color today.

“You should come down and get something to eat,” they say. “The house is empty right now. And I don’t think anyone’s gonna be back tli late.” They peer up at the ceiling, taking inventory. “Zoe’s at work, then she said she’s going right to a party in Roxbury...Ray’s working til close, again, and Clover’s not back til August.”

I roll over. I’m stiff from lying down so much. “August?”

“Yeah, she went home for most of summer break this year. Her sister just had a baby, so she’s a new auntie.”

I rub my eyes and sit up. If no one’s here, I guess that’s fine...but to be honest, I don’t mind the hustle and bustle here. People coming and going. I was alone a lot at my mom’s place...both knowing when she’d be back, but never really sure when she’d just show up.

There’s a gnawing in my stomach. “I need a cigarette,” I say.

Leigh nods, understanding. Then, they perk up and pat my thigh. “Wait. I have a better idea. Come on.”

They grab me by the arm and hoist me up out of bed. I stumble and follow them, realizing that although I’m wearing my jeans, I unbuttoned them, and I’m not wearing a shirt. I grasp them by a belt loop and hobble down the stairs, trying not to trip.

“I know what you need,” Leigh says, breathless as they haul me through the hall, the living room, and Clover’s room. “Not a cig, but a bath.”

“Huh?”

I’ve never been in Clover’s room. I always thought it was part of the living room, the way there’s just a heavy curtain that separates it, but it’s a whole...thing. It barely looks lived in right now. Makes sense...she’s not here...I feel stupid already. I stare down at my feet as Leigh continues to lead me.

“Check this out,” Leigh says. “Look at the size of this...”

They flick on a light, and I have to shield my eyes. We’ve walked into...a bathroom? Attached to Clover’s room? It’s huge, with a double vanity, sparkling white tile everywhere...and a giant tub set in the back center of the room.

“Whoa,” I say.

“Apparently they redid this before they gave the house to Zoe,” Leigh says. “They were going to sell this place, so they redid the suite bathroom. I’m so jealous...we’re not supposed to use it.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. She wants to keep it a secret. Clover can ‘cause she’s right next to it, and like, I know Zoe takes long baths in there...” They glance over to me with a wicked grin. “I guess she doesn’t want ‘the boys’ using it.”

They say “the boys” with exaggerated finger quotes, and I snort. Then, before I really know it, they’re pulling my pants down.

“Whoa, whoa,” I say, my heart racing. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going to take a bath,” they say. They don’t take off my underwear, thank god, but they do start to undress themself. Off comes the sweatshirt, the flannel, the t-shirt, skater shoes, jeans, down to their underwear. They’re wearing briefs, but a lace undershirt, too. I think it’s called a cami?

Suddenly, they look a little shy. “Is that okay?”

I feel very awake. I look past them and examine the tub a little more. “Does this have...jets in it?”

“O-oh! Yeah man, check it out.” They twist the knobs, and the jets on the side of the tub suddenly come to life, spraying hot water into the basin. “Look at this! You could fit three, four people in here, easy.”

They aren’t looking at me directly anymore, so I hold my breath and take my underwear off, then my socks, and step in. I hiss--the water’s too hot. “T-take it down a little,” I say.

“Oh shit, sorry.” They fuss with the knobs as I get used to the temperature, and eventually manage to sit down. I didn’t realize how cold my ass was until it was in hot water...but it does feel nice. Even just the steam...

I lean my head back. Leigh shuffles behind me, and then gets in the tub as well, sitting beside me. “Luxury,” they sigh. “This is how rich people live, with their fuckin’...big jaccuzis.”

I snort a laugh again. The water slowly fills, past my thighs and my belly button. There’s a jet right at my back that’s massaging it...maybe a little too hard. I shift over, closer to Leigh, and close my eyes.

“Is it nice?” they ask quietly.

“Mmm,” I murmur in reply.

The water is about to reach my chest, and Leigh shuts it off. “I don’t know how this thing works actually,” they say, with a nervous giggle. “I guess it’ll recirculate? But I’m not gonna keep the water going to find out and flood the damn place.”

When was the last time I took a bath? Probably when I was a kid. Aunt Sally probably gave it to me. Mom didn’t bother. No, I’m not going to think about her.

I can tell Leigh is looking at me. I open one eye.

They bite their lip. “I like it when you laugh,” they say shyly. “It’s like...it’s small, but it’s good.”

I like the way their eyes light up when they talk about something they know a ton about. Or even when they’re half-assing something. They have a really toothy grin usually, but when it comes to me, I see their soft smile a lot. Like right now.

They scoot closer, a ripple in the water. “Um...”

They reach up and touch my face. I definitely need a shave. That’s not what they’re thinking, though.

They close the gap, and we kiss. Every stress I had, every nightmare I tried to sleep through...it all seems like a dream now. I’m okay, here. Right here, right now. Their lips are soft.

We break, and press our foreheads against each other. “Zoe’s gonna kill me if she knows we were in here,” they whisper.

“So we don’t tell her,” I say.

“Cool,” they reply. They start to giggle. “Ah, shit.”

“What?” I find their other hand underwater, and I hold it.

“I want to kiss you again.”

So, we do.

[lovestay-remade]

[ cosmos — h. jisung ]

under the thin blanket, you could feel jisung’s hand inch closer, slowly but surely finding its way to yours. you tried to avoid his gaze and stay focused on the stars above you, but his eyes were solely fixated on yours.

this was a first for both of you, or a first for jisung anyways. there was always a sort of barrier between you and him; he had never dared to get anywhere close in case he clammed up and said something he would probably regret saying later - he had many phobias, but this was one of his greatest. 

...the atmosphere around you tonight was different, though. the sweet ambience of the fairy lights jisung determinedly hung up around the rooftop, the small compact teepee you were huddled up in, to the cool summer breeze that enveloped your bodies in a safe and secure hug. not to mention the soft indie beats playing from the stereo behind you and the clear air that had made even the galaxy visible.

and then, when your fingers touched, it as if the cosmos had imploded, the stars bursting into a million different fragments, each and every one consuming you in a dream-like haze. it felt electrifying, like a drug - you had never felt this way before. the sensation felt so foreign to you - almost extraterrestrial - yet somehow it felt so very familiar. if one thing was for certain;

everything felt so right.

from the way your cheeks tinted a bright shade of pink, to your frequent exchange of shy glances and timid smiles, and the way his hand would squeeze yours every so often; jisung had been waiting for this moment since the day he met you, in this exact same place, two years ago. the day you moved in next door. he didn’t know it at the time, but soon enough his mind would be completely smitten with just the slight thought of you.

everything felt so right yet...

it could also feel so, so wrong.

like a switch flicked on inside of you, you immediately sat up and pulled your hand away from jisung’s hold. “y-y/n?” he asked, startled, “what-”

“i-i’m so sorry.” is all you managed to say as you picked up your belongings and ran towards the exit door, your heart throbbing while you wiped away a few stray tears with your sleeve - leaving jisung’s mind full of doubts, anxieties and unanswered questions. did he do something wrong? was this his final chance? had he lost you for good this time? behind glassy eyes, he focused on the falling star for the final time.

if he could have even half of you, he would be happy.

[qinfen-qingshen]

Title: broken mirrors; spilt water (1/?) Pairing(s): Han Mubo/Qin Fen Rating: PG-13 Synopsis: Your typical first-loves meet again trope...I guess...

Qin Fen doesn’t expect for old memories to collide into his thoughts; nor, does he expect once familiar faces to reappear into his life. But then again, life often works its way like tidal waves crashing upon him—everything occurs with bone-breaking fatigue. 

Time slows to a standstill, breath lodging in his lungs as he stops mid-step. It’s okay, he thinks, it’s only matters of the past. For it was things done and over with, people whom he’s left in the past and moved on from. Yet when he looks at the man in front of him, a slight thud hitting his chest, he wonders if he’s ever truly moved on.

Read on AO3