#//- a wiseass comment here or there

[mechahero]

@outofthiisworld asked- I really enjoy Lambda’s specific flavor of sass! >:)c to me it’s not the typical sassiness (nothing wrong with that ofc), but his feels more dry and sharp! guy who will pop a sucker outta his mouth and say the stunt your pulling is stupid before going on with his day <3 What is something about my portrayal[s] that sticks out? (accepting!)

//Thank you so much Boo!! I really like writing sassier dialogue for Lambda! (And dialogue that can be seen as sass because of the tone he usually has most of the time too.) Sometimes I do worry if some of the comments he says end up coming off as mean instead of sarcastic or as a quick and casual "That's so dumb."? And then I remember oh right, environment where he was used to people talking to each other like that and if someone else's character takes what he says the wrong way then it would be perfectly understandable lol.

TL;DR: I'm glad you like it! And he would take a lollipop out of his mouth for a moment to call someone a dumbass and move on.

[lorebite]

I'm sooooo tempted to ask about the Pleasure Dom Leon wip, but I have to stay loyal to Daddy Death and ask about "Curie Gets in Trouble" ��💙

Haha! The pleasure dom Leon one has pretty much turned to hard dom Leon at this point, to be completely honest but I haven’t changed the file name yet. 😂

As for our sweet Daddy Death, here's a tinny tiny snippet of what's been in the works for ages now (😭). Currently, the placeholder title for this fic is Louder Than Mercy but we shall see if it'll stick.

Somewhat NSFW below the line!

Your eyes narrowed into a cold stare. A minute change of expressions which didn’t go unnoticed by him. If anything, that splinter in your blithe façade only served to kindle a glimmer in the depth of his icy blue eyes. To him, you were just another book to spread at the spine. 

And well, spreading you wasn’t anything he was a stranger to.

“Maybe I should remind you how serious this is,” you said in a harsh whisper, tone cutting. “Now’s not the time to be a wiseass.”

A languid airy chuckle burst from the Curator’s lips in response, his eye briefly roving your sweet face. His fingers began creeping across the desktop through the clutter towards your thigh, stopping just a touch shy of the slippery fabric swathing the curve of your hip. 

“Why, I certainly find it hard to be serious at the moment – or with you, for that matter.”

Soft shadows cast by the candelabrum danced like a bevy of wispy ghosts across your face as you tilted your head to the side. If his comment struck a chord within you, it was difficult to pinpoint through the hard look set deep in your eyes.

“Is it because you don’t see me as a threat,” you started slowly, your voice a careful whisper, low and smooth. “Or is it because you always find a way to convince me?”

His fingers slithered on top of your thigh, the sensation of his touch luxuriant like the very silk on your body. It was gentle and tempting, making heat flutter deep in your belly.

“Perhaps both.”

It was a simple response, afforded by all your previous visits, birthed from the past experiences you shared with him. A vicious pull and denial which had roped you in this situation in the first place. You were both pawns in the other’s play.

“Perhaps you are that easy to sway, little Havoc.”

[starlingsrps]

it's only just the weight of the world.

alex and his crew don’t come back.

it’s not the only one and there are enough men down that the mood is somber on base tonight. this isn’t the first time, not by a long shot. david has been in europe for eight months, thorpe abbotts for five - he’s lost friends, he’s lost more than he ever thought he would and he’s still here and upright. 

but alex being dead, alex never coming back sits like a stone on his chest. the kid’s a little shit who can’t pick a single fight to save his life, lanky and scrappy as an alley cat but there’s something about him that david recognizes. he’d been a little shit himself at twenty - more like a pampered poodle and full of it - but a little shit all the same. he didn’t talk much about where he came from but it was pretty clear that the army was good for him in a way it absolutely wasn’t for david. a few years and hardy might have managed to make something of himself.

that’s what isn’t sitting, he realizes. alex is - was, whatever - turning twenty one in two weeks. it feels fucked up that he won’t be. he’s a kid. he should have had more time.

david drags himself from interrogation to the showers to the clubhouse. he doesn’t want to be alone at all, though he’s all too aware of what terrible company he is. there’s a moment and a toast for the crews that went down today and then it’s like it never happened at all. it’s like they all disappeared. someone puts on a record and the subject changes. across the room, he hears jack telling some new story about his daughter. there’s a poker game in the corner that he could get in on but he decides to keep drinking instead.

it doesn’t take him too long to be well and truly drunk, which feels a lot better than being sober. the warm numbness feels pleasant compared to harsh reality. drunk feels like armor. anything that hits him cant hurt him, bounces right off of him and into some other poor fuck. sure, he’ll be hungover tomorrow but he can deal with hungover. he does his some of his best work hungover, in the gloriously hazy moments before he tries to remember what the hell he did to get this way. 

david almost wishes he’d thought of this sooner.

sid joins him, dumping a short glass of whiskey next to the empty one. which number it is, he doesn’t quite remember. “quiet without hardy,” he comments. “miss the little fucker already.”

“he’s a kid. doesn’t seem fair.”

“they’re all kids, hatch.” sid shrugs, bolts down half his own drink. “you know what we’re up against.”

its not that sid doesn’t care, david knows that. he knows that sid has been a solider longer than any of them and that what sounds cold is just logic.

he still wants to punch him in the face.

“i hate it here, sid.”

“i’m not having a great time either. none of us are.” he shoots the other half of his drink and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “just need to make the best of it.”

no, he can’t punch sid. it’s not sid’s fault.

“i’m so tired of people telling me that. nothing good ever happens here.” he downs his drink in one gulp. “we don’t win shit. we fuck up, guys die. we get lucky once in awhile, guys still die. it’s fucking pointless.”

sid sigh heavily, taps the base of his glass in the scratched table top. “i don’t know what to tell you, hatch,” he says, looking over his shoulder with an exasperated expression. “it’s war. that’s the point.”

“fucking stupid,” he mutters. “you too, if you believe that horseshit.”

usually, sid would respond with some wiseass crack about knowing he’s dumb but instead, he just looks at him before shaking his head. “and you’re drunk. go get some air.”

“fuck it, fine. night, halstead. go fuck yourself.”

he flashes him a sharp smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “right back at you.”

david gets another drink before he leaves, figuring he’ll bring it back in the morning or eventually or never. he walks for awhile, taking the longest, most meandering route back to his bunk. sobering up, having a one man wake - little bit of both. it’ll be like the others. after tonight, none of them will ever speak of alex or the rest of his crew ever again.

he and alex met when alex tried to swoop in on the pub waitress david was working on. he left vera unattended for five minutes to take a leak and came back to the little shit giving her a show. and, quite frankly, doing a better job of it than he’d been. 

“okay, okay,” he said, plucking him up from the stool by the scruff of his jacket like a kitten. he’d resolutely stayed put, ass turning into cement. “bedtime for the first graders. i’m taking you out.”

“they let you out of the graveyard for good behavior?” he’d looked him up and down, clearly unimpressed. “you couldn’t take me out if you bought me a dozen roses and sucked my dick.” 

david had never been more charmed in his life. it wasn’t as though he didn’t have friends here but alex had been a dangerous combination of friend and little brother. he could meet him at his level, high or low, in a way none of the others could. they riled each other up and if david was too old for half of this shit or alex wasn’t mature enough, they averaged out. indigo said that it felt like babysitting two tornados to go to the pub with them 

and now he’ll never talk to him again.

the glass is still in his hand when the grief and rage meet and he’s hurling it to the ground before he can stop himself.

screw it. if this has taught him anything, he doesn’t have a shot in hell of getting out of here alive.

might as well keep going until it’s inevitably his turn.

[johnnys-green-pen]

Random E! Thoughts: S5E20 - The Great Crash Diet

Chet and his dinner - sounds like there went like half his paycheck

Damn it, I want Baklava. 

Questionable orca stuff is questionable :/

Morton’s outfit. That’s it, that’s the comment.

Some interesting talk about stress on the job in this episode.

Morton mentions that Chet is interested in the diet program, and Johnny just looks over at Roy like “oooooh boy”.

Johnny getting to be the reasonable one for once.

Johnny and Roy poking fun at Morton while walking off, and Dix’s eyeroll.

Johnny trying to justify his lunch to Roy. “Okay? Okay? Okay.”

Ya gotta feel sorry for the guy.

Nobody being too happy with Chet for throwing out their food.

Marco being understandably upset at “no spices”

Johnny angrily eating crackers at Chet.

Roy joining in.

There are a bunch of interesting conversations in this episode - about health fads and food as it relates to culture and heritage and all that good stuff. So of course I’m not gonna talk about any of it in-depth here, lol. I’ll probably get around to it at some point in a format that’s better suited to it. 

Johnny and Roy nearly starving overnight, poor things

Chet’s meditation, and Stoker being a wiseass about it. 

“gurge gurgle”

REALLY, Mike *snrk*

Johnny and Roy going to Morton for help, and Johnny being snarky about it.

Brackett leaning back like he’s about to grab some popcorn.

Johnny’s “you have our undying gratitude, doc~”

Brackett’s “Doctor Frankenstein” quip. 

Cap getting zapped - and his first priority is the fire.

Mike smoothly stepping in and handling the commanding side of things.

Mike also being at Cap’s side as soon as he can be.

Cap calling him “babe” (not for the only time, either)

Mike gently and pointlessly fixing the collar of Cap’s turnouts 

Johnny and Roy moping something awful even though Cap’s gonna be alright.

Morton being super diplomatic and doing an A+ job at handling Chet without hurting his feelings. 

[lokisasylum]

So... in essence, 7 Fates: CHAKHO is just Seraph of the End without the vampires and angels, instead they’re hunting demons/Beom.

‘Cause you got:

♠ - The reluctant hero with a tragic past he barely remembers, who is half human/half-something, wields an ancient sword and is protected by a deity/being/or demon. Will prolly go rogue at some point so the others will need to bring him back to his senses.

♠ - The powerful Deity who watches over the reluctant hero and doesn’t hesitate to throw a snarky remark to keep you humble like the mortal peasant that you are.

♠ - The dude who acts cool (and wears shades), is prolly a brain, wants revenge for his friends/family and sort of has this budding friendship/light rivalry with the reluctant hero.

♠ - The quiet guy with curly brown hair who smiles a lot, but inside holds a fiery sense of revenge for the death of his loved ones (especially a sister he holds dear) and is given a cool bow as a weapon. (every group needs a sniper)

♠ - That once character who was kidnapped by the enemy, tortured until they basically turned him into one of them, but he fights on the side with the good guys at one point (this character also knows all the dark secrets from the bad guys).

♠ - That one character who always has the longest weapon (its always either a scythe or a spear and its always green lol), has a cocky/wiseass look on his face (prolly throws sarcastic comments here and there or teases the others), but has a weakness for one of the enemy ‘cause “not all of them are bad, we just live in a judgemental society”.

♠ -  And the one character who nearly got killed/eaten by the enemy and has a trauma but it will heal by the power of friendship. (he also kicks ass)

[sourbat]

2 Nategaar!

Thank you! 

A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

Another night, another award ceremony. This time it’s Skwisgaar’s. Offdensen mentions a charity in his name, something about recycling old guitars, and Skwisgaar turning pale once he realizes a short speech is involved. Their manager calls it good publicity, and he insists Skwisgaar attend. The man came off as cold as untouched steel. Fitting for a robot, but Nathan keeps his mouth shut once he picks up on Skwisgaar’s curling lip, his shinning forehead and tense stare.

It’s about five minutes until Skwisgaar’s called on stage to accept his award, and Nathan watches, crossed armed and mouth slightly parted, as the man of the hour paces from one side of the room to the next. It’s an unbecoming sight, a tick that Skwisgaar picked up shortly after Toki released that crappy autobiography of his. The band figured once the bad publicity was over, Skwisgaar would return to normal, but there was always that one interviewer who’d bring up the book, some wiseass who quoted a line from a chapter.

“The curtain is less than ten feet away,” Charles reminds Skwisgaar. “You need to calm down before someone catches you looking like this.”

Another befitting remark from the man with no heart, but Nathan doesn’t have time to pick a fight with his manager. He waits until Skwisgaar paces in his direction before offering a short nod.

“Hey,” he calls. His voice breaks through the anxious driven veil, and Skwisgaar blinks, spotting Nathan in front of him. 

“Oh, I forgots you ams there,” Skwisgaar commented, bringing a hand to rub the back of his head. He smiles, but his eyes dart to the side, to the bright light flashing across the stage, and Nathan can tell the poor guy’s head is swimming with hypothetical ridicule and mockery. 

Nathan shakes his head at the sad sight. This is supposed to be a damn award ceremony. If anything, Skwisgaar should be rubbing it in, teasing Nathan with his freshly pressed suit, popularity polls and mentioning of some silly, gold statue. Skwisgaar is supposed to be telling him none of this is a big deal, that it’s a waste of time, and once this is over and he tosses the stupid trophy aside, tells Nathan that drinks are on him. It’s Skwisgaar’s job to be the practical one. Not him. 

Nathan removes himself from the wall. “Get over here.”

“What?”

“Here.” Nathan beckons Skwisgaar closer with a finger. “With me.”

Skwisgaar shuffles in place, embarrassed at himself. He runs the same hand through his hair and slowly brings himself into Nathan’s grasp. With a yank of his massive hand, Nathan pulls Skwisgaar into a gentle embrace, a pathetic one-armed hug. Would’ve done the real thing, but Offdensen eyes Nathan and sends a “don’t wrinkle the suit” warning that he always does when he tries to get physical.

Skwisgaar rests his head against Nathan. “I cant’s believe this ims still happeninks,” he murmurs into Nathan’s shoulder. His nose brushes up against the man’s top, and he closes his eyes. “This ams patetics.”

“They won’t say anything when you’re up there. They wouldn’t dare,” Nathan states. Skwisgaar nods his head in agreement, but it’s all superficial. Nathan feels a shudder under his arm. A quickened heart rate. Skwisgaar’s still nervous, he thinks, and Nathan brings his free hand to cradle the back of Skwisgaar’s head and pull him into a real embrace.

One of these days he’s going to sit Toki down and teach him a thing or two about writing a damn book…

“You’re going to go up there, and you’re going to rock, like you always do.” Nathan almost growls it out because Charles is staring, pointing at his watch and sending that stupid “please don’t wrinkle that suit, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” look that Nathan can’t possibly bring himself to care about. The testing stare only strengthens Nathan’s hold on Skwisgaar. Screw the outfit.

“Skwigelf, two minutes!” someone calls out, and Nathan feels another series of quakes run up his arms.

With hardly any time left, Nathan takes Skwisgaar by his shoulder and pulls him away to face him. “Listen” Nathan says, “Skwisgaar, I know you’re afraid someone might spout some bullshit while you’re up giving a speech. But remember, I’m over here.” His eyes narrow into a threatening glare. “Watching and scrutinizing their every word.” 

Skwisgaar smiles, but Nathan can still detect small instances of stress in and around his pale eyes, at the corner of each supple lip.

“If anyone brings up that damn book I’ll send a squadron after them,” Nathan continues, watching Skwisgaar provide another short nod, though this time there’s a sprinkle of that classic, and so alluring Skwisgaar that Nathan prefers to see. Calm. Maybe a little cocky, but definitely in charge. Keeping still, and not letting go of Skwisgaar just yet, Nathan adds in a loud voice, “I will literally make Offdensen call several gears out to commit a mass shooting if they dare bring any of that shit up.”

Charles raises a finger, but Nathan shoots him a glare so menacing he drops his hand and, instead, rolls his eyes.

“Tanks, Nathan.” Skwisgaar’s lip curls inward, and he bites it to hold in what he’s thinking. Nathan takes no offense. Guy needs to be on stage in a minute, and the last thing either needs is to let their emotions get too out of hand. If it isn’t going to be the book, it’ll be Skwisgaar blushing, or Skwisgaar not being brutal enough. 

Fucking hyenas.

There’s a loud applause on stage, and someone calls for Skwisgaar to enter stage right. The two men share a naked glance, each exposing their innermost feelings. Nathan’s sure he screwed up and let it slip that he is also worried, more concerned than he ought to be, but Skwisgaar’s eyes are soft and filled with a new bounteous, albeit fleeting energy. Nathan hopes it’s enough to make it through the next few minutes on stage, and offers Skwisgaar a small glimmer of his own with his eyes before drawing near.

“Skwisgaar, you need to go,” Offdensen says the second Nathan guides Skwisgaar into a gentle kiss. Nathan barely has time to enjoy the warm, delicate sensation of Skwisgaar’s lips before he pulls away and turns for the stage.

Nathan leers at Charles, not saying a thing because there aren’t any words he can put together to accurately voice his annoyance. He debates raising a fist, maybe throwing some random swears once Skwisgaar’ done accepting his award and does his speech, but before he can think of a word horrendous enough to earn a reaction from the robot, feels a hand on his shoulder. Nathan glances, expecting one of the backstage crew warning him that he needs to go further back, but it’s Skwisgaar. 

Nathan raises a brow. “Skwis, what–” but his words are cut off as Skwisgaar takes him and presses his lips against Nathan.

A hand runs through Nathan’s hair, lifting several long strands before sliding behind his neck. Nathan feels each finger curl around him, inviting him to close the gap, which Nathan is only too happy to oblige. He pushes forward, tasting the round, supple flesh with his tongue. His mouth parts, and as soon as Skwisgaar tried to deepen that kiss, nips the tip of his tongue. Skwisgaar sighs through his nose. Nathan nips again, biting down on Skwisgaar’s bottom lip, and not letting go until Skwisgaar groans out his favorite notes. 

“Uhh…Skwisgaar Skwigelf!” a voice on stage calls, but neither men are too concerned with the poor jackoff making an ass of himself. They continue holding on to another, Nathan’s eyes slowly closing as Skwisgaar’s lips continue to pull at his, hands against his waist and daring to lower, gripping Nathan’s lower back and sending a massive chill up his spine. Skwisgaar pulls away, and for a second Nathan thinks it’s over, but as he takes a breath and opens eyes, ends up gasping when Skwisgaar’s lips brush over his lower neck, assaulting him with a blazing flutter, a confident whisper filled with intimacy.

Offdensen shakes his head at the two.

“Skwisgaar Skwigelf?”

[soulsbetrayed]

oursklpper

said:

‘What you’ve never seen a penguin in a motorcycle before? You need to get out more!’ // for samatoki please

“It ain’t somethin’ ya see every day regardless.” he comments pointedly. “The only thing close to a penguin is that wiseass lawyer from Nagoya, and that’s just because he dresses in mostly in black and white.” he adds before laughing.

“So what brings ya out here anyways?” 

@oursklpper​

[co-mixed]

WicDiv

For three days that it took me to read The Wicked + The Divine, I’ve been calling it my rebound book. After a Buffy month it was something new and fun, and like it always is with rebounds, your ex was mentioned in the first issue.

So yeah, a classic rebound it was, an easy to get into universe with a familiar writer and artist, basically a sure thing. Now that I’ve finished it, I can’t say it’s left a deep cut or multiple debate points in my mind, because I loved almost everything about this book.

The good

At this point I know very well that when it’s a Kieron Gillen/Jamie McKelvie (possibly Matt Wilson) book, I would at least want to look at it (a lot).

I have said it before, and I will repeat it — I absolutely love McKelvie’s illustrations. I don’t know how it works for everyone else, but in my case when the art is good, I feel like the voices get more vivid, the images move, all comes together to drive the story forward. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that McKelvie rarely has any lazy panels (or even lazy elements). Everything is on the same high quality level. So even before reading WicDiv, regardless of the story, I knew that I’ll be hunting for trades or a hardcover, because of this art.

Jamie McKelvie is one of a few artists who can ask which character you would want to do, and get a reasonable answer.

Not to diminish the writing, and really that would be impossible. Kieron Gillen has proved his skill time and time again. The dialogue, and the wiseass speeches. Everything flows really well, and the duo gives you the feeling of stepping from a street filled with smells of puke and piss into a suit with cocaine and sex on the menu. And yeah, there is a lot of sex in this book, so much that I think I forgot half of the canon ships.

The world itself is built with care and attention, I can’t ignore that mostly because often writers would just throw in fun stuff without doing proper research. This isn’t the case here, you can see how much work has been put into it, and if nothing else, the creators’ comments give you a glimpse. Which also shows how much they really care about the story.

The bad

This will be a short one. My only problem with WicDiv was chaotic pacing, which is understandable, and could be a personal issue. I prefer a more careful, slow and thorough process of character development, so I wouldn’t mind some more of the “before” stories. Like who were these characters, how did they come to their divinity, how they dealt with it, what parts of themselves they had to give up. These are answered for some of them, but others were left a mystery.

At the same time there is a definitive ending, something that while makes sense to the story, doesn’t leave much to the interpretation. But again, might be just me, I’m a sucker for a finale that poses a question (yes, the alley scene in Angel was brutally perfect).

The story

After reading the first few issues, I felt like the story took a while to get moving. I got hooked because of the premise, but the events were merely short pieces, that took a while to come together. It felt like a bunch of sketches and maybe was too jumpy for my taste. But issue after issue, as you get used to the style, you start getting it, and somewhere at 2/5 you can’t stop reading. It’s a mystery, that plays around with the concept of superpowers and fame. It’s a simple plot, if you strip away all the bells and whistles, but well, those bells and whistles are really what makes it unique. And in many ways, the characters play an important part.

Characters

A few I liked, a few I didn’t (within the story, not the fact of their existence). They knew they’d be loved and hated, so what else is new. Ultimately, they are the most important part of the story. And the exciting thing is that you can and can’t relate to them. Kinda like the idols that they represent.

It would make sense to go through the pantheon one by one and see what emotions the leave.

Laura

The protagonist, that’s easy to relate to. By the end of the series we know a lot, if not everything about her. But I like how she starts out: starstruck, and mesmerized. Trying to stand out, and to make sense of her life. Well, the latter doesn’t ever work, but stand out, that she did.

Lucifer

She’s one of the characters I know people adore, but I don’t exactly get why. Aside from a pretty obvious chaotic behavior and zero-fucks attitude, there wasn’t much more to her. No conflict I could get behind. I find her previous iterations more interesting.

Amaterasu

Just like Lucifer is more evil because evil, Amaterasu is good because good. She reminded me a lot of early Karolina Dean (Runaways). But I get the feeling she exists for balance, and with other characters it plays really well.

Baal

If I had to pick my favorites, he would be one of them. He is the one who gets a more definitive arc, and enough conflict to support my need for drama. He’s also a show off, and loves playing god.

Inanna

Again, a character I don’t quite get. Good and loves everyone, fast friends with everyone. That wasn’t enough for me to like him. So Inanna kinda stays in the background.

The Morrigan

Also one of my favorites, not just because of underground gothic chic. Just something about all three of her sides that makes sense, even if it’s not supposed to. There wasn’t a lot of Morrigan in the book, but what was there spoke loudly.

Baphomet

Again, one of the most likable ones. And I think his arc is very deep. We get to see him before godhood, and I feel like we got to see a few things from his point of view.

Woden

Cornered myself with this one. There’s such a complicated story with Woden, that I can’t even say whether I liked it or just accepted it.

Tara

Tara’s a big secret throughout most of the beginning, and then she’s in many ways such a regular person. I like her story, but I probably wouldn’t like her poetry.

Sakhmet

That’s a crazy that I like. Yeah she’s an if Rihanna was a cat, but her actions make her unpredictable, and I always like a wild card.

Norns

But mostly their leader. All I can say is so so so pretentious. I know that’s the idea, but I also view it from inside the story, so I get to be mad.

Dionysus

Another one with a little less screen time, and another likable one. Seriously, that’s almost all I can say about Dio. I’m also too old for his parties.

Minerva

A kid of wisdom. We don’t talk about kids.

Ananke

An old lady in charge. Also not much to say here if I don’t want to spoil thing. And I don’t.

So The Wicked + The Divine. Not exactly a new comic book, so it’s likely that many of you have already read it. But if you haven’t, you have to.

[fernsehn]

I always thought of myself as this rather kind-hearted internet presence. 🤐 Truth is though, that I also come here (tumblr) to get rid of some of my infantile Chris Carter-rage. Hehe. Probably never a good thing. Anyway.  Here’s another funny thing making this a weird day of commemoration of sins I commited on the internet. I swear to god I never really did stuff like that normally haha. But one time I commented under an article of a super young german tv-critic who wrote for some public broadcasting magazine thing in a bit of a wiseass-mode. He listed some late night shows that were supposed to be good and I had just written an article about the very topic on my personal blog I was quite proud of. So I linked to those posts under his article in an Idk...slightly passive aggressive way ...possibly? Anyway - here’s THAT plot twist: 1-2 years later I got my first job as a “Redakteur” at some tiny film start-up and he was one of the writers on our show!!!!!!!! :) HAHAHAHA.  (And I fell in love with him cause he’s one of the most talented and coolest dudes on the planet but that’s another sad story.) 

[starrynite7114]

snapshots: gifts

A/N: Another installment from the newly titled ‘snapshots’ series. This is a sequel to traditions and silent treatment. I’ve decided to make it a series that shows glimpses of ‘you’ and Angel’s life together. Let me know what you guys think!

=============================

Angel groaned as he browsed through the computer in the office. Christmas was in a few days and he stupidly procrastinated. He has yet to buy you a gift and panic mode was setting in. This was your first holiday together as a couple and Angel wanted to make it a memorable one. He knew materialistic things hardly impressed you, but he knew you still appreciated a nice gift every once in a while.

“You’re a terrible boyfriend,” Coco chuckled as he watched Angel look through Victoria’s Secret. “She fucking hates that store.”

“How the fuck do you know?” Angel narrowed his eyes at his best friend who pulled up a chair beside him.

“She went shopping with Leticia a few days ago and she had Letty laughing about how much she didn’t like Victoria’s Secret.” Coco explained. “And the last time we went to the mall with her, I was trying to force her to go into the store and she refused. Thought you would catch on she didn’t like it.”

Angel felt like an idiot for not knowing that about you, but then again, it’s not like he went shopping for your unmentionables with you. Knowing that another man was going to see you in them, he didn’t want to be a part of that.

“I think you’re overthinking this, this is why it’s so difficult for you.” Coco stood up. “You know she doesn’t care what you give her, why not just propose to her?”

Angel gave Coco an incredulous look, making Coco laugh. “Come on bro, you and y/n have been doing this dance since high school, why prolong it? Do you want to be with anyone else?”

“No.”

“Then just propose.”

“God, do I know anyone with some sense?” Angel just brushed off the idea and went back to the computer. It’s not like he didn’t think of proposing to you, he definitely did. But it wasn’t the right time. He didn’t want to rush you. He might have felt that you were it for him, but you might not feel the same way. It was his insecurities getting into his head, but he couldn’t help it.

Coco just laughed again as he walked out of the office.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Angel sat back, running his hand over his face.

“Angel, y/n is looking for you,” he heard EZ say to him.

Angel looked up, a smile immediately spreading across his face. The stress he was feeling rushing out of his body. He stood up and followed his younger brother out of the office. You were leaning against Rafael’s car, arms crossed across your chest. Angel’s smile slightly faltered, he could tell you were not happy and he began to think of all the things he did within the past 3 days since he last saw you.

“Mi amor, what’s wrong?” Angel immediately questioned.

“Huh?” You gave him a confused look. You looked down at your stance and chuckled. “Oh no, sorry, nothing is wrong, at least, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Angel let out a sigh of relief he wasn’t even aware he was holding. Once he was in front of you, your lips met and he placed a kiss on your forehead. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, but what’s going on, you don’t seem very happy.”

“You’re going to hate me.” You pouted as you leaned against Angel, looking up at him. You didn’t meant too, but the puppy dog eyes was already paired up with your pout.

He was a sucker for it and Angel absolutely hated that about himself. Whenever you would give him those eyes along with that pout, he would move a mountain for you just to appease you. Hell, you can stab him and he would brush it off.

“I could never hate you,” Angel wrapped his arms around you.

You loved it when he wore the Romero work uniform. Those muscles of his out in full glory, looking so damn good. His outfit and sweetness was making this all that much harder for you.

“I have to leave the state for a few days.” You figured there was no point bearing around the bush.

The change in Angel’s hold on you was immediate, he pulled away, giving you a questioning look. “Christmas is in 4 days. When will you be back?”

“The day after Christmas.”

Angel groaned at that, shaking his head. “Babe, it’s the fucking holidays, why do you need to leave?”

“There’s just an emergency meeting at the company headquarters in New York, they say if we can find a remedy before the 26th then we can go home.”

“Do you think you will?”

You frowned and shook your head. “I’m so sorry babe,” you wrapped your arms around him.

Rafael was in the car, sympathetic towards your plight. As much as he understood that this was your first holiday with Angel, you were needed at work. And the pay was good.

“This is bullshit.”

“Please don’t be mad and break up with me.”

Angel froze at your words. How can you even think that? “The fuck did you just say?” He pulled away from you, looking down as your eyes were anywhere else but him.

“I know how much the holidays means to you and I’m ruining it.”

Angel refrained from shaking you to get such a ridiculous thought out your head. “Didn’t I tell you it’s you and me against the world now? You ain’t getting rid of me unless it’s in a box.”

“Don’t say that.” You slightly shoved him.

“I’m serious. The fact that you think I would break up with you due to an inconvenience pisses me off.” Angel was hurt that you would even think of something as ridiculous as that. He was serious, the only way you were going to rid of him was through a box otherwise, it’s you and him. He wondered if you were still insecure. Your relationship was so new and he knew he had so much to prove.

“I’m sorry,” you knew you were an idiot for even thinking that, but you couldn’t help it. “I don’t want to go, but no one else can go.”

Angel sighed and nodded his head. He gave you a kiss before pulling you towards him again. “It’s fine, I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He opened the door for you and closed it once you were inside. Rafael rolled the window down and greeted his head at Angel. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Yeah, you better. No late night outs.”

Rafael laughed. “She’s boring, we both know that.” Angel laughed at Rafael’s comment. He kissed you one last time before Rafael drove off.

He looked behind him and found EZ and Coco with the biggest grin on their faces.

“What assholes?”

“We’re just glad you two finally got together. I can’t even imagine how anxious you would be if she left and you two weren’t together yet.” Coco patted him on the back before making his way towards the garage.

“So, did you find a gift?” EZ questioned.

“Nope, but I got more time now.”

EZ chuckled. “You’re such an idiot.”

Angel wrapped his arm around EZ’s neck and dragged his brother towards the garage. He hated that you weren’t gonna be there for Christmas, but he was hoping for a Christmas miracle.

=============================

You just got off the phone with your sister, who wanted to greet you a Merry Christmas along with your niece and her husband. Your sister had given you an earful when you were at the airport waiting to board your flight.

‘You’re such a workaholic, I’m surprised Angel didn’t tie you down.’

You were a workaholic, but you never did anything half ass and you sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. For years, you’ve built a name in the company and you knew they would promoting you soon, it was already promised to you. And with higher positions come great responsibilities, which was why you were in New York, laying in your bed with Rafael in the room across from you. Initially, you two were going to share a room, but Rafael met up with an old acquaintance and chose to have his own room instead.

Now, you were in your room, drinking a bottle of wine all by yourself while watching some Netflix on Christmas Eve. You’ve been trying to contact Angel, but it kept going straight to voicemail. He was most likely on the other side, helping out Adelita. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t concerned about his relationship with Adelita, but you trusted Angel, you had confidence that he wouldn’t stray.

At least, you kept saying it to keep your anxiety at bay.

“This is pathetic, I should go out and enjoy the city.” But then again, it was Christmas Eve, what was there to do in New York? Everyone was at home spending time with their families and here you were, thousands of miles away from home.

Your phone rang, snapping you out of your stupor. Looking at the name, you immediately smiled.

“Hey baby,” you greeted.

“Hola mi amor,” his voice gave you such warmth, it should be a sin. “If you’ve been trying to call me, I’m sorry, Bish just had us doing a few things for the club before Christmas.”

“You guys get Christmas off?” You teased. Of course they did, you knew that.

“Yes, only workaholics such as yourself work during the holidays.” The teasing tone on his voice made you smile, knowing everything was okay between you two. You hated missing this time of the year since you usually spent it with the Reyes’.

“I miss you,”

Angel sighed. “I miss you too. What time do you get back on the 26th?”

“Midnight, so technically the 27th. Don’t worry, Rafael is gonna give me a ride home.”

“I’ll meet you at your place,” Angel informed you. “I have something for you.”

“I thought we agreed no Christmas presents this year?” You and Angel had agreed to not get one another Christmas presents this year since you didn’t see the point of it. All you wanted was to be with him and that plan was thwarted by work. But even though you agreed on that, you still got Angel something. So, should you really be surprised that Angel got you something?

“Well, I’m not giving it to you on Christmas so it technically isn’t a Christmas gift.” He was such a wiseass, you had to roll your eyes at that.

“You’re such a smart ass.”

“I thought that’s why you love me baby girl?”

You laughed. “One of the plenty of reasons that I do.”

“What you doing?” Angel was currently sitting on the couch of his father’s house, deciding to spend the night there along with EZ. Things have improved between him and his father to some extent, but vying for his father’s approval went down the drain after he found out about EZ’s deal. He didn’t need it, not anymore.

“Currently drinking wine and watching the Punisher.” You poured yourself another glass, mentally taking note that this had to be your last glass.

“Hey! We agreed that we’re watching that together.”

You laughed. “We are! I’m just watching the episodes we already watched. You kept distracting me so I don’t really know what’s going on.”

“How was I distracting you?” Angel took another sip of his beer, leaning back against the couch.

“Angel, come on, you know what you did.”

Angel chuckled. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You were wearing my shirt, with your ridiculous ass short shorts.”

You laughed as well. “It’s not like you know what’s going on with the story anyway.”

“I do, I’ve seen the series already.”

“Angel! And you’re giving me flack for possibly seeing episodes without you?”

“I’ve told you this, its the reason why I kept endorsing the show.”

“You’re such a dork. Are you home?”

“Naw, I’m at pops, you know we celebrate Christmas here and we go to Christmas Eve mass.”

You nodded your head as if Angel could see you. “That’s right, well, I’ll let you go, I’m getting sleepy.”

“The wine hitting you?”

“No, sort of,” you placed the wine glass on the bedside drawer beside your bed. “It was just a long day.”

“Everything okay with work?”

“Yes, we fixed the problem, only reason I’m not flying out tonight is cause the airport is going to be ridiculous.”

“I wish you were here beside me.”

“Me too.”

=============================

Angel was in your apartment, preparing the place for your arrival. He bought some chinese food and kept it in your oven. He was on the couch, trying to focus on the television, but it was almost 2 in the morning and you still weren’t back. You had texted him that you landed almost an hour ago and nothing since then. To say he was nervous was an understatement.

“Where the fuck are you, y/n?” Angel murmured as he checked his phone for the umpteenth time. He looked at your present and couldn’t wait to give it to you.

The door finally opened and Angel shot up, rushing towards the door. You looked up at him and dropped your bags, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face at the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

“I’m so happy you’re home baby,” he placed a kiss on your neck before he pulled away.

You closed the door behind you, locking it. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he met your lips with his.

“What took you so long?” Angel questioned as he took your things to your room.

“Rafael insisted on grabbing food, I would have texted you but my phone ran out of battery.” You explained. “I didn’t eat cause I know you bought me food.”

“How did you know that?”

“Cause you always take care of me.”

Angel’s heart swelled at your words. He was glad that you noticed that you were his number one priority, that he took care of you in anyway that he could. He didn’t have much, but whatever he had, was yours.

“Of course I do, your my girl, you’d do the same for me.” Angel walked out of your room and found you on the couch, waiting for him. “You want your present now?”

“Yes!” You were excited.

Angel walked over to the box under the christmas tree he helped you put up. Placing the box on the coffee table, you raised an eyebrow at him. Standing up, you looked at the box and noticed the holes on the side. You looked over at Angel and gave him a suspicious smile.

“You didn’t Angel.”

“What?” He gave you a playful smile.

Opening the box, a siberian husky puppy was peacefully sleeping in the box. You refrained from squealing as Angel picked up the dog for you. He opened his eyes and he had the typical blue eyes most husky’s had. He was black and white, with a diamond shaped outline on his back.

“Hello,” you greeted the puppy as Angel handed him over to you.

“I can’t always be with you, so I just wanted to give you him. So when I’m not here, you always have company.”

You slightly teared up as the puppy began to lick your face. You hugged it close to your chest as Angel looked on, a smile on his face. “Thank you so much.” He knew how much you always wanted a puppy since you were a kid. With your mother passing, getting a dog never really became an option, so Angel wanted to get you one.

It was a symbol of your new chapter together.

For now it was only a dog that you two would raise together, but one day, he hoped you two would be raising your own children.

“Anything for you baby girl,” he gave you a kiss on the forehead. “What’s going to be his name?”

You pondered for a moment as he made himself comfortable in your arms before he fell asleep once again. When you were younger, you had your heart set on the name Buddy for a dog. It was cliche and typical, but you love the Air Bud movies. But Buddy didn’t fit him.

“Ares.”

Angel had to laugh at that. You were absolutely in love with Greek mythology. He’s watched a few shows and movies with you that had to do with greek mythology. You were his little history nut and he loved that about you. He wasn’t even surprised that you picked that name.

“I like it, it fits him.” Angel took Ares from your arms and brought him to your room where he had a kennel for him to sleep in. You followed Angel and began taking your clothes off since all you wanted to do was go to sleep. But then you remembered your present for Angel.

You made your way to your walk in closet where you changed much to Angel’s disappointment. But you also grabbed the gift you had for him. When you made your way out, Angel was already in your bed, waiting for you.

He smiled, patting the space beside him. “We have to make up for some lost time.”

“Absolutely, but first,” you jumped on your side of the bed, placing his gift in between you. “Open your gift.”

Angel knew you would get him something. The whole no gift bullshit was such a hoax. That’s why he got you something, he wasn’t an idiot. Besides, you’re his girl, there was no way he wasn’t getting you a present. He picked up the box you had in between you two, shaking his head with a smile on his lips. He tore up the wrapping paper and opened the box. Inside the box was another box. He looked up at you and you held in your laughter and encouraged him to open it. The box was quite big so Angel wasn’t sure what to expect. Once he open the box within the box, he almost dropped the lid.

“Baby,” he breathed out.

Inside the box was an art set, with a brand new sketchbook along with art supplies. You knew Angel was an artist at heart and he rarely dabbled into his artistic side these days. It was such a shame since Angel was such an amazing artist. You knew he put it in the backburner for some time and his excuse to you was that he didn’t have any supplies.

Well now, no more excuses. You wanted Angel to find something outside of the MC to have as his hobby and you figured that getting back into painting and drawing would be such a good thing for him.

“This is amazing,” he took out everything you got for him. From the pastels, colored pencils, pens, paint, brushes and pencils to the sketchbook that would hold all of his work. You also had few other ideas but you figured you could wait till Valentine’s Day for that one. You just wanted to help him reconnect with his passion. “I definitely did not expect this.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, a lingerie set that you could model for me.” He wiggled his eyebrows making you laugh and smack him. “I’m a simple man baby, that would have made my fucking year.”

“You mean the year that’s about to end in a few days?” You playfully pushed him.

“This is amazing y/n,” he pulled you towards him, giving you a kiss on your lips. “I fucking love you,” he said against your lips.

“I love you,” you did the same as him before pulling away. “Want to put this away and you can show me how much you missed me?”

“You’re insatiable baby, is that all I am to you? A piece of meat?”

“Take your clothes off Reyes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

[tidsoptlmist]

It’s a Boy-Girl Thing - E.D.

Authors Note: so i don’t want to make this too long but 1. im lowkey back 2. i’ll try to upload more consistently 3. im sorry if this is really bad 4. thank you for all the kind messages asking about this fic!! made my hear go 💙🌲🌞🌱💖🌟💫💜🌿💥✨🌙💚⚡️🧡🌸 

PART 10 一 REPEL

Summary: Ethan and Y/N are neighbors. And although Y/N is on good terms with Ethan’s twin brother Grayson, Y/N and Ethan loathe each other and are constantly in dispute. Ethan is a popular varsity football player, who likes to be in the spotlight. Y/N prefers to stay under the radar while reading books and poetry.

Although the constant bickering between the two drives everyone around them crazy - the two live their separate lives peacefully. At least that’s how it was until they wake up one morning and everything was changed…

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10

As soon as Grayson parked his car in front of Austin’s house you wanted to leave. There was loud music playing, and not even good music. It was only 10:20pm but the driveway to the house was already filled with trash. Empty red solo cups laid in the grass and you could see old cigarette butts still smoldering.

Grayson locked the car and walked towards the front door; which was open. You let Grayson enter first. This way you could copycat his way of behaving. Grayson greeted two boys who were standing in the hallway. He swung his arms around both their shoulders and pulled their heads to his chest.

‘Max! Ryan!’ Grayson smiled happily. Max and Ryan laughed and tried to escape from Grayson’s tight grip. They greeted Grayson with big smiles and turned to you, giving you a brotherly slap on your shoulders.

‘Ethan! Good to see you man!’ Max smiled at you. You grinned at the two boys.

‘Let’s go inside, get you guys a drink!’ Ryan said, walking towards the kitchen. ‘Austin said we could take whatever we want,’ he explained while opening the fridge. Your eyes widened at the sight of the beer bottles and the big bottle of Grey Goose vodka.

To your relief, Grayson declined the beer Max handed to him.

‘Still playing the saint?’ Max joked, but you couldn’t help but notice the hint of annoyance in his voice.

‘Gotta keep a clean record so I can get that scholarship, Max,’ Grayson explained calmly while grabbing a soda can from the fridge. ‘Not all of us have rich parents who’ll pay anything to get us in a good college.’

Your eyebrows rise in surprise. Grayson’s shady comment clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by Max either but before he could reply, Grayson grabs another soda can and your arm and pulls you towards the living room.

‘Asshole,’ Grayson mutters angerly as he sips from his soda. You make a vague gesture with your shoulders as a reaction. From your place in the living room you had a great view over the driveway. You hoped Ethan would arrive soon.

He texted you earlier this night how he would be bringing Olivia, as it would have been weird if ‘you’ showed up alone at Austin’s party. He had sent you screenshots of his conversation with Olivia when he told her they were going to the party. Taking in the account that he was coming with Olivia explained the fact that he was late. Olivia was horrible at making choices when it came to clothing. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at the idea of Olivia grabbing, what she would think was your hand, pulling Ethan into her room, and showing Ethan all the outfits she picked out for tonight. You would have paid at least 20 bucks to see Ethan's reaction to Olivia walking around in her bra and underwear, talking like there was no tomorrow.

‘Your girlfriend is here.’

You broke your staring contest with the driveway and looked at Grayson. ‘Who is here?’

Grayson nodded towards the side, your eyes followed and landed on Sophia.

‘She’s not my girlfriend!’ You told Grayson angerly and he raised his hands in defense.

‘Okay, your fuckbuddy, or whatever you wanna call it,’ he grinned and rolled your eyes, clenching your jaw in annoyance.

‘She’s not my fu-‘

‘Ethan!’

Sophia’s arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders and pull you close to her.

‘Hi Sophia,’ you greet her awkwardly. She turned you around and smiled happily at you, her breath smelling like red wine. You can see Grayson walking away from the corner of your eyes. So much for brother-love, apparently.

‘Hi babe!’ Sophia started to lean in. Just in time, you realized how she’s about to kiss you. You quickly turn your head and her lips touch your cheek. You can feel your cheeks heating up, your face twisting in embarrassment.

‘Do you want a drink? I can get us something?’ You ask her before she can retry kissing you. She takes a second to think about it.

‘Actually yes. Could you get me a glass of red wine?’ She flickers her lashes at you - probably under the impression of it being ‘cute’ while it just makes her look like she has something in her eyes.

You unwrap yourself from her arms and walk toward the kitchen. You fill a glass with wine for Sophia and cruse when you spill some on the white countertop. You quickly wipe it away with a kleenex and get another soda from the fridge for yourself. It takes a second to convince yourself you really shouldn’t take a sib (or the whole bottle) of that Grey Goose vodka - just to make yourself a little more comfortable.

You walk towards the kitchen door, eyes focused on the glass on wine, trying not to spill more. Just when you want to take a look where you’re going, a body collides with yours.

A yelp leaves your mouth, scared you’ll spill wine on yourself. Luckily you only spill some wine over your hand and not on your own shirt or the person you bumped into.

‘Y/N? Why do you have wine?’

You look up and see your own face. ‘Ethan!’ You breathe, relieved seeing him.

‘The wine is for Sophia, she wanted some,’ you explained yourself, putting the glass down and washing your hands. Ethan nodded and refilled the glass while your dried your hands.

‘I’m glad you’re here. I’m already so ready to leave! Grayson snapped at Max and Sophia cornered me and tried to kiss me!’ You told Ethan.

‘I’m sorry I’m late but that’s completely Olivia’s fault! She made me choose an outfit! And she started changing in front of me! Is that normal for girls? Do you get naked in front of each other all the time?!’ Ethan's cheeks turn a light shade of pink. You chuckle at his discomfort.

‘C’mon, like you’ve never seen a girl in her bra before!’ You joke but Ethan ignores it. You two walk towards the living room to hand Sophia her drink.

‘You said Grayson scolded at Max, why was that?’ Ethan asked, his face close to your face so you could hear him over the loud music.

‘Don’t really know. Something about Gray and I not wanting a beer and Max mumbling something about Grayson playing for a saint.’ You explained to Ethan. He clenched his jaw in frustration.

‘Max is always trying to push us into drinking and doing drugs. I think we’re losers for trying to stay clean.’ Ethan said. ‘But, unlike Max, we really need a scholarship to pay for college.’ He huffed in annoyance. You notice his discomfort when mentioning the scholarships and stop walking and turn to Ethan.

‘That what Grayson said too!’ You smiled at him and you rest your hand on his. ‘And Gray also said that you shouldn’t worry too much about those scholarships because you both will be all right. He said multiple ivy leak schools already contacted the coach!’

Ethan sighs deep and you can see his shoulders relax. ‘Yea, you’re right. Thanks, wiseass.’

Before you can react to the nickname you hate a high pitch scream fills your ears.

‘Here you are!’ Sophia’s claw-like hands grab your arm and pull you away from Ethan. The wine in your hand almost spills for the third time that night. Sophia, however, grabs it from your hands: just in time. She downs the whole glass in a way she could do a fraternity proud and gives you a sly smile when she finishes.

‘Why were you talking to that girl E?’ She pouts as she wraps her arms around your shoulders and neck.

‘She’s such a nerd! And ugly too!’ Ouch, that hurts.

‘I mean have you seen what she’s wearing? Such a nun! I’d rather be a slut than such a prude!’ Sophia pushes you back towards where everyone is dancing. You quickly look at Ethan, who is talking to Olivia. He’s wearing a black turtleneck with a dark velvet green spaghetti strap top. He tucked both into high waisted jeans and combined them with boots. You know that Olivia helped him pick because you would never wear something like that yourself.

‘I think she looks nice,’ you say and Sophia gives you an annoyed look. Jealous?

‘She’s a bitch and a know-it-all! How do you even know her!?’

‘She’s my fr-’ you stop yourself before you could finish that word. Were you and Ethan friends?! You shake your head to clear your mind. You and Ethan could never be friends. You hate him!

‘She’s in my history class and my project partner.’ You correct yourself. But Sophia is too far gone to be really listening. She has her eyes closed and slowly dances to the music. She pushes herself close against you and again you are confronted by the fact how tall and broad Ethan was. You awkwardly hold her so she doesn’t fall. A smile formed around her red lips and she starts to grind against you, front to front.

‘So-Sophia what are you doing?’ You mumble, feeling the blood rush to your head, buzzing in your ears. Sophia, however, either does not hear you or does not care. She turns around and presses her ass firmly against your lower parts. You recoil your body as fast as you can, but Sophia is just as fast as she turns around again and grabs your firmer.

‘Hmm Ethan,’

You almost choke in your own saliva when you hear Sophia’s moans. This is not fucking happening. You can feel her hands and long acrylic nails run along your arms, along with the goose bumps, which are not caused by excitement but utter discomfort. Your eyes dart around the room, desperately looking for help.

‘Let’s go upstairs Eth, I’ll let you have your way with me,’ Sophia moans, slowly kissing your neck. Her hand travels lower and lower until it is at your belt. She lays her hand on Ethan’s junk and you jump away. That’s the last straw, you think. I’m not going to let myself and Ethan be sexually assaulted by a bitch like Sophia.

‘I’d rather not, actually. I’m gonna leave.’ You say and push her back on her own feet.

‘No you’re not!’ Sophia hisses and grabs your belt. ‘You can’t just deny me when I say I want to have sex with you! I’m the hottest girl in the school!’

‘Well Sophia, I know what you’re like in bed and I’m good for the night. If I wanted a groaning foaming animal I’d visit a zoo!’ You jank her hands off your arms and walk away.

‘I wouldn’t walk away if I were you Ethan Dolan. Or I’ll tell everyone you only last three seconds!’ You turn towards Sophia.

‘Everyone already knows that’s not true,’ you say calmly raising your eyebrow at the drunk girl. She looks like she’s about to cry but you don’t feel bad for her. ‘Just like how everyone already knows that you used your sister’s ID to get a boob-job.’ You thank Olivia for her love for gossip once again. You turn around and walk away to find Grayson.

‘Ethan! Ethan!’ Sophia follows you around the house, screaming for your attention. You walk outside when you can’t find Grayson and suddenly hear Sophia stumble. You turn around, just in time to see her vomit over the front lawn. Your faces twist in disgust.

‘That’s vile.’ You hear a familiar voice. You turn and see yourself.

‘Ethan!’ Your voice dripping with relief. ‘I’ve been looking for you and Grayson, I want to go home.’ Ethan nodded, still looking at Sophia, who is leaning on the side of the house while still spitting out some of her dinner.

‘Let’s get her inside and we’ll look for Grayson.’ Ethan says and the two of you bring Sophia inside. You put her on the couch while Ethan gets a cup of water. The two of you wait with her when she drinks the cub, her eyes still being vague from all the alcohol.

‘I cannot believe that you used to fuck her,’ you say when Sophia closes her eyes as she lays down flat on the couch. Ethan stays quiet and looks at Sophia with a weird expression on his face.

‘You know she tried to grab your dick when we were alone? That's sexual assault!’ You look at Ethan but he only raises his shoulders.

‘You sure you didn’t get a hard-on?’ He smirks after two seconds and you push his shoulder.

‘I could never! Not from Sophia!’

[maximumkillshot]

She’s a Knockout

Warnings: Some angst, some spoilers for s14, some fluff, cursing because c’mon it’s me we’re talkin’ about, also some allusion to sexy times.

Pairing: Dean x Donna 

Characters: Doug, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Donna

A/N: ONWARD WITH THE 606 CHALLENGE!!! I know I haven’t posted for this in a while, but this submission from @adoptdontshoppets that just started singing to me tonight. The submission is:

“Whatcha doin’ here Dean?” + Dean x Donna + Dean shows up at the sheriff’s office to ask Donna on a date + I vote for fluff ‘cause she says ‘yes.’ Though angst if she says no could be interesting too. 🙂 Maxi’s 606

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here

“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here

Dean’s POV:

“Just go to her, he says, what’s the worst that could happen, he says…” I mumbled to myself as Bon Jovi plays over the radio. My hands are sweating like crazy.

I haven’t talked to Donna since I met with her before I was going to bury myself under the Pacific, which I’m sure she found out by now. I knew that I had to see her though. I like her too much to leave her in the dark.

“Why Donna?” asked my brother to which I blurted.

“Because she’s the only one I needed to see before I did what I had to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Sammy smiled at that, “Oh yeah you do. You like her… like… like her like her.”

“How old are you Sammy, 5?” I asked annoyed… but he wasn’t wrong.

“You’re the one that can’t bring yourself to say you got the hots for Donna, so who’s 5?”

“Wiseass.” I huffed.

“You know we are only one hour away… You could surprise her, ask her out.” said Sam with a smirk.

“No, not gonna happen, okay? She’s into the kind and soft guys, not me.”

“How do you know that?”

“Have you seen her exes?”

“Yeah they’re all dicks who left her because she was just being her… C’mon Dean… I’m sure you’re gonna be surprised.”

“Ughhh fine… fine… But if this goes South, I’m blamin’ you.” I growled as I grabbed my keys.

Which leads me to now. Almost 5 minutes away from the station with my stomach in my throat and heart beating out of my chest just thinking about her smile. Oh shit, there it is, Stillwater PD.

I park Baby in the parking lot… Just thinking, sweating, hoping, panicking… a whole crap ton of panicking. I get the guts to walk up to the station doors and I pull. My feet are so damn heavy. When I go up to the reception desk I see him, fuckin’ Doug. Yeah the blind asshole of an ex-husband of Donna’s, he walks up to me and says “Hey Dean, nice to see you.”

“I would say the feeling’s mutual but that’d be a lie. Why are you here?” I asked defensively.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He commented as he straightened up.

“None of your damn business… where’s Donna? I gotta talk to her.” I said as I looked behind him.

“About what?” He asked…

“About Nunya” I said nonchalantly.

“Nunya?”

“Nunya damn business now where’s Donna?” I growled.

“Hah, good one Dean. Doug, what’re you doing here?” chuckled Donna as she came out from a briefing, it seems.

“Just wanted to check on you,” said Doug.

“Well guess what’s the last thing a cop needs?... Someone to check on them so hit the road, Jack.” I said as I motioned to the door.  

“I was going to take you out to lunch…” Said, Doug, as he looked at his watch, “But since you took forever I guess that’s not happening, yet another thing you can’t do right… tell time.”

I immediately tensed up and went to grab for my gun, then I remembered…. I’m in a police department, filled with police officers…. Not a good time to lose my shit… so I huffed and gave him the best ‘I will murder you’ face I have. 

“You never even told me that you were coming,” She defended.

“I don’t even know why I try with you, I mean c’mon it’s not like you stopped having your love affair with food anyway. And it shows,” He said as he motioned to her stomach and her head fell.

“Hey Detective Asshat Mc’Douche, I believe that there are some other things that you should be worrying about like, oh I don’t know, me calling your superior for being out of your jurisdiction on lunch…” I said as I started dialing the phone, my head nodding.

He grunted and began to walk by me, not even acknowledging Donna, and I threw in, “Oh and one more thing... I don’t know who you’re looking at but Donna’s a knockout… Just because you’re too much of an asshole to see that doesn’t mean that you get to come in here and say shit… Not like you’re exactly the picture of fitness there, Pillsbury Dough Boy .”

Doug looked at his stomach an sucked in his stomach as he walked out and I said loud enough that he could hear, “Believe me chief, you’re gonna need an iron corset to tuck that gut in, sucking it in’s just the beginning.”

Donna started laughing as well as a few other cops and criminals in the department. The man was literally laughed out of the station.

“You didn’t have to do that...” Said Donna through her toothy grin, “What’cha doin here Dean?” she asked immediately after.

“Don’t even mention it, to be honest with you, I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” I said with a relazed exhale, “and I came her to talk with you.”

“About? A new case?” she asked.

“Not exactly.”

“Well I needed to call yah anyway… come on,” smiled Donna as she lead me to the conference room. As soon as she closed the door and shut the blinds she said, “Dean, Sam told me some things, I need to see if they’re true. Something about you wanting to throw yourself to the bottom of the ocean because Michael won’t leave, yah gotta tell me he was just goofin’” she said with pain in her eyes.

I turned my head slightly to the side, “He wasn’t, Donna.”

“Wha.. Why Dean, Why would you do that?!” She near screamed at me.

“I thought that there was no other choice, Donna.”

“And what about Sam, Jack, Jody, the girls, me? You didn’t even drop by to say goodbye.”

“I did… to you,” I said with solemn eyes.

“When…” It was then that it clicked for her, “That spontaneous lunch… I knew yah were actin’ a bit weird… Held me a bit too long that day, why didn’tcha tell me?”

“I knew you’d talk me out of it,” I said as I looked at the hurt and confusion.

“Why me? Why not Jody?” She asked.

“The feelings I have for Jody aren’t the same feelings I have for you…. Which is why I’m here, Donna.”

“Dean, you’re weirdin’ me out here,” she started shifting her weight and I chuckled.

“You’re different, Donna. You are so strong and you are you. You are you and you’re so proud of it. You have every right to be, you’re funny, smart, drop dead gorgeous…”

“Hold on there Winchester, I’m not even pretty let alone gorgeous.” She chuckled.

“Then why is it that I couldn’t leave without seeing your beautiful face again? Hearing your gorgeous laugh? Donna you don’t know how amazing and gorgeous you are and I need to stop acting like I don’t feel like this towards you. The fact is, I’ve felt this way since I first met you.”

“This is a joke, right? Who put you up to this?” asked Donna.

“I’d never joke like this, Donna. I love you…” I let it slip… “Fuck… I just… please give me a shot before I start making a fool of myself here.”

“How do I know if you’re serious here, Dean?” Donna asked.

“You trust me?” I asked.

“With my life.” She said as I closed the gap.

“Dean, whatrya?” She said as I tilted her head up to meet mine. I looked at her as I slowly closed the little space we had between our lips and I kissed her. I kissed her with everything I had. Everything I was trying to say. Before I knew it, she wrapped her hands around my neck as I cradled her head, deepening the kiss. As soon as I pulled away I missed her immediately.

“Wow” she said as she looked up at me with her doe-eyes.

“So?” I said nervously, my hands around her waist, still a breath away.

“I get off at 5” she blushed.

I chuckled as I said, “I’m thinkin’ burgers and chili cheese fries at Big Tony’s Bar?”

She responded with, “What about desert?”

I whispered into her ear before I let her go, “You.”

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[possiblyawritingblog]

Rock Music and Fur Coats

•Gif not mine @bikerchickforlife

•Feedback is appreciated

•And uh yeah so here we go then...

----------

Billy was known for being a hot head and the king of Hawkins but what he wasn't known for was how good of a student he was. Excelling in his classes came with little to no effort. Not only was it second nature for him, it was something that he had to do in order to keep his dad off his back and not be kicked off sports. Well, it got him into some advanced classes he liked to keep it under the radar because, well, he was the king and not some wise-ass know-it-all who got their books knocked out of their hands or something worse. So when his teacher assigned him to tutor y/n Byers he wanted to keep it as low key as he could to which she was fine with, even suggesting that they go to her dad's place to work, which turned out to be a lot more of a learning experience for Billy then her.

Standing by his car waiting for Max, Billy smoked a cig well y/n fidgeted with the thick belt on her waist-high blue jeans before digging her hands into the pockets of her waist-long baby blue fur coat and beginning to rock on the heels of her black wedged boots making a click-clack sound as she did so. Much to Billy's annoyance.

"Can you fucking quite it?" He asked a little too harshly.

"Oh uh, sorry." y/n said as she stopped her movements and just stood still on her feet, pulling on the ends of her black long sleeve top that come out a bit farther out then the sleeves of her jacket.

Reaching them Max skated to halt, reaching down and picking up her skateboard she looked at the two of them with suspicion. She recognized y/n from her time hanging out with the gang and she couldn't figure out why the perky, shy, artsy, out there, over the top y/n would be anywhere near her low life stepbrother. The two of them together made an odd pair.

Y/n smiled at the young girl. "Hey Max." she said slightly glad that she interrupted the awkwardness between her and Billy.

Max nodded towards y/n acknowledging her presence "Y/n"

Rolling his eyes Billy, already irritated that Max was late, hurried them into the car before throwing his cig on the pavement and getting in himself. With everyone seated in the car, Billy wasted no time in speeding out of the parking lot. Whilst the Camaro flew down the streets of Hawkings a particular song came on that Billy had heard one too many times, so he turned it down. Only to have y/n turn it back up within a few seconds.

Shocked that someone touched his radio Billy looked at her before asking "What the hell are you doing?"

Trying to seem unfazed by his sudden outburst and lack of composer Y/n shrugged "it's a good song" Billy dryly chuckled at this.

"What?" She asked crossing her fur-clad arms over her chest as her confidence grew.

Billy shrugged with one shoulder "Nothing you just don't seem like the type to like that sort of stuff"

Dropping her arms she gave him a look "what's that supposed to me?"

"Just" he began in a slightly higher pitch then his normal voice, "I don't know rock doesn't seem like something someone like you would be into."

Y/n huffed "excuse you but I'll have you know I love a good rock song just as much as I love a new fur coat."

"Really?" Billy smirked to himself "So what you like Zepplin, AC/DC, Aerosmith, Pink Floyd?"

"Ya, I mean I like a good pop song but rock is where it's at." She explained well Billy nodded along stealing a quick glance at her before turning back to the road. Taking his silence as a sign to continue she said "Ratt and Bon Jovi are also pretty good although, personally, I'm not really that into Pink Floyd" a comment that made Billy huff. Now it was Y/N turn to question him.

"What?"

"You say you're a rock fan but don't like Pink Floyd." Y/n stopped him there cutting him off before he could say another sentence. "Hey I didn't say 'I didn't like them' they have SOME good music I just don't see all the hype. I like stuff like Queen or Motley Crue more."

Naming two of his favorite bands Billy's ears perked up "Motley Crue?"

"Ya," she smiled "I like a good Motley Crew song but sometimes I'll be in the mood for something a little different and put on some AC/DC or a classic Doors vinyl on my record player.

"The Doors? That's an old one" Billy commented

"Old doesn't mean bad William" she contradicted.

Max, who had been listening in the back seat already surprised by how the two got along, held her breath. Having already touched his radio Y/n had a strike and Max was sure there was no way Billy would let the use of his first name slide. No one called Billy by his first name. Expecting the conversation to turn bitter quick, Max braced her self.

Instead, he did something that surprised Max. Billy smiled. Nothing too big but just a small genuine smile that left Max shocked and y/n, who wasn't aware of how strange it was for him to do that, returned the smile by smiling even brighter. The usual brass, blunt and harsh stepbrother Max knew far too well for her liking was showing a side she never knew let alone saw. It seemed as if he enjoyed when Y/n spoke and as if he had a genuine interest, almost a certain level of happiness in talking to y/n that was only increased when his name fell off her lips. As you can expect Max was beyond shell-shocked. She wasn't even aware Billy could genuinely smile after only every seeing him smirk she was beginning to think he was immune to a real smile.

Not missing a beat the two continued their conversation long after dropping Max off at the Hargrove-Mayfield home. Word after word seemed to fall into place with the conversation continuing all the way to the door of her bedroom. Where, upon entering y/n room, he was surprised by her yet again. The room wasn't anything extraordinary but the things that filled it up caught his eye.

Well the desk that stood right under the only window was bare except for the small record player y/n had mentioned earlier in one corner and a small potted plant in the other both bookshelves, one on each side of the desk, stood tall and proud resting on the dark grey wall behind them. Both were filled to the brink with a variety of things. Both neatly organized, one bookcase had different books, tapes, cassettes, and records. The other, art supplies, makeup and what was left over from the bookshelf on the other side. What caught his attention the most was the wall opposite her wall closet that had framed vinyl covers hanging off of it. Stepping past her twin sized bed towards the grey wall Billy took a closer look at some of the classics that hung on her wall and was amazed by what he saw.

Noticing this she quietly, and possibly a little smug, said that "It's amazing what you find at yard sales."

"That's where you got these from?" he asked as his attention moved from piece to piece.

"Well kinda" y/n replied "Some of them, like the older ones, are from estate sales" y/n explained well pointing out a few of the records that dated back to the 50s and 40s "people don't really get how valuable they are and usually sell them for like three dollars or less.

With his attention fully on her again he simply, and yet again, asked "Really?"

"Yeah, people will sell a whole box of them just to get rid of the dead person's stuff not really caring who or where anything goes as long as they get their cash." quickly as her smugness came it went "Sorry that sounds a bit harsh." she said averting her gaze.

"Harsh?" Billy controdicted "That's not harsh if anything your right people will sell or do just about anything for the right price."

For the first time in the past hour, y/n didn't know what to say. Briefly, they both look at one another, standing in silence. A silence, broken by y/n who suggested that they start working on some math and with that they did.

Over the next few passing weeks, math tutoring at her place became their scheduled thing and neither of them minded. Almost every day Billy would drop Max off at where ever she was going before driving himself and y/n to her home where they would talk, work, laugh and listen to music, just like they had ended up doing on the first day. Slowly but surely she was not only learning more about math but about Billy 'The King and Secret Wiseass' Hargrove. He was her tutor and her friend well she was his outlet and go to person, and to think if he was never assigned as her math tutor Billy would have never known that the girl he thought was some stuck-up princess was actually a good person with some great taste in music. Guess looks can be deceiving.

£ñđ

(@myscxllanxous @stevesharrlngtons @gutterdreams @letmeletmetrashyourlove @hargroovin @hotstuffhargrove @dacremontgomerylover )

[fanfic-from-a-67-impala]

Courage

Fulfilling a square for @spnonewordbingo: DEER

Characters: Bela x Ruby, OMC demon

Word Count: 3624

Summary: Bela helps Ruby out with a job, and she'll need to scrape together all the courage she has to get through it alive.

Warnings: SMUT, angst, nightmare, canon-typical violence, sex in the midst of emotional turmoil

A/N: Yes, you read that right. I wrote some lesbian smut. I promise, I didn't know this was going to happen when I started writing. The characters wanted to do it, and I just kind of played along. It’s pretty softcore. If you want to know more about my decision to include it, feel free to ask me about it.

In case you didn't know, it's Gen's birthday today! It just so happens that she and Lauren Cohan are a year and a day apart in age (it was Lauren's birthday yesterday), so I thought I'd take the opportunity to turn the occasion into femslash.

In the middle of a forest, Bela perches on the edge of a picnic bench, avoiding the rain puddle that settled in the middle of the deteriorating wooden slab.

She hears only the white noise of water running through a nearby stream and the shrill chirping of birds from every end of the forest. The sun shines overhead, though the thick foliage above blocks most of the light, leaving a soft glow on the forest floor. When a breeze wafts through the trees, the dew hanging onto the leaves and on blades of grass shimmer as they catch the light.

In the corner of her eye, Bela spots a deer. It bends over the other side of the stream, drinking.

Bela was always fond of the animal. She would never admit to anyone that she had had a soft spot for Bambi, but she admired them. People see them as weak, but they'll evade threats at all costs. They can outrun, out-jump, or out-swim almost any predator, and they won't show weakness.

That is, unless they're caught.

The deer shoots its head up, ears twitching, even before Bela hears the rumble of the engine. As an orange Mustang drives into view, the deer darts back into the trees, out of sight.

The car pulls up on the dirt path next to Bela’s silver Mercedes. Ruby climbs out of the driver's side, zipping up her black leather jacket.

“If you ask me to meet you in the middle of this swamp, the least you can do is be on time,” Bela calls.

Ruby shrugs as she walks. “Got held up.”

Bela crosses her arms over her chest. She didn't mind waiting, really.

“What are we doing here, Ruby?” she asks.

“Cutting right to it, huh?” Ruby stands in front of her, leaning from one foot to to the other, hands stuffed in her pockets.

“I need to find a demon.”

“Found one,” Bela remarks.

Ruby rolls her eyes. “Another demon, wiseass. I tracked him down to somewhere in town. I was hoping you could do your spirit board thing and get me an exact location.”

“Of course I can,” Bela says. “What does this demon have that you need so badly?”

“None of your business.”

Bela holds her hands up. “Fine,” she says. “Speaking of business, you have to know by now that no favor of mine comes without a price.”

“Oh, of course not,” Ruby says haughtily, mocking her accent.

Bela raises an eyebrow.

“This demon travels with an impressive collection,” Ruby explains.

“Collection?”

She nods. “Charms, hex bags—you name it. Millions in market value.”

Ruby is trying to tempt her, and it’s working. It’s an acquisition, like any other, and if Bela wants to keep those high ceilings over her head and the wheel of that cute Mercedes in her hands, she needs to take it.

“I’m listening.”

Ruby smirks. “You find him. I get mine, you get yours. We got a deal?”

Bela ponders this. Demons are vengeful creatures. She only had to learn that lesson once. But, she reasons, if Ruby is there with her, nothing too disastrous can happen, right?

“Deal.”

“You’re sure this is it?”

The spirits led them to an abandoned warehouse off the highway. Bela stares at it from the passenger seat of Ruby’s car.

“I’m sure,” she says.

She climbs out of the car and checks the chamber of her pistol. As she starts toward the building, she catches Ruby watching her with an amused eye.

“What?” Bela snaps.

“Nothing, James Bond,” Ruby teases, glancing down at the gun in Bela’s hands. “It’s cute. Like you.”

The comment was intended to get a rise out of her, so Bela only rolls her eyes, suppressing the smile from some part of her that has deluded itself into thinking Ruby meant it.

“But you know a peashooter like that won’t do squat to a demon,” Ruby adds.

“I do know that,” Bela sighs. “But what else do we have?”

Ruby pauses to glare at the building. “We would have a demon-killing knife if the bastard hadn’t stolen it from me.”

Bela follows Ruby’s gaze, then turns back to her. “Is that what you’re after here?”

Ruby nods.

Something foreign lingers in Ruby’s eyes, Bela thinks. Anger, yes, but something stronger than that. Maybe fear? No, that doesn’t seem right. Do demons feel fear? Do demons feel anything?

“Well, I do love a challenge,” Bela says. “Shall we?”

She follows Ruby up to the warehouse and through the sliding metal doors.

After circling the stacks of metal shelves and rusted power equipment, Ruby lets out a sigh.

“I guess nobody’s home,” she concludes. “My knife should be here. The rest of his stuff, too. Let’s split up.”

Bela barely lets her hesitation delay her agreement. “Okay.”

There’s no reason to be worried. The demon should be wreaking havoc in town, far from here. Bela’s had a long career without needing backup, let alone from a demon she barely trusts.

Still, she can feel her heart pounding in her chest, sure it would give her away if the demon were here.

It’s not a big warehouse, no greater in size than her own house, but the emptiness, the quietness, makes it seem endless. Bela navigates her way across the faded yellow markings on the concrete floor, around the racks, an abandoned hand truck, a few cardboard boxes.

She reaches the corner and almost turns around before she sees it. Against the wall, next to an air vent, a large wooden trunk sits on the ground.

Glancing around once more, Bela kneels next to the trunk. It looks out of place here, old and worn in a way the rest of the place just looks abandoned.

She releases the latch, and lifts the cover. The sight that meets her leaves her without breath.

Ancient-looking books are stacked one on top of the other. Charms of all sizes made of wood and silver and brass, some bearing symbols even Bela doesn’t recognize, hang from the sides of the box. Cloth bags—hex bags—are piled up neatly in one corner next to a range of other items too wide for her to process all at once.

“Ruby,” she calls.

She hears light steps behind her growing closer as she hooks various charms around her finger and places them in a canvas sack. Any one of them could sell for thousands of dollars.

By the time Ruby reaches her side, she has already begun poking through the bags of voodoo.

Without a word, Ruby reaches into the trunk and picks up a knife, eyeing it with admiration.

“That it?” Bela asks.

Ruby nods. “This is it.”

As Ruby twirls it in her hands, Bela studies the knife. It’s a simple weapon. A well-worn wooden hilt holding a modest-sized blade with one serrated edge and markings etched onto the sides in some Middle Eastern language, Bela would guess.

“Come on,” Ruby prods. “We should go.”

Bela plucks a few books from the stack and shoves them in her bag before following Ruby.

Ruby slides open the door, and a force sends her flying backward.

Bela exclaims in surprise, dropping the bag.

A man with jet black hair bursts into the room. He starts toward Ruby, who landed across a row of shelves, but Bela catches his gaze. His eyes travel down to her feet.

The bag has fallen limp to the ground. One of the books Bela hastily crammed inside has toppled out. She can’t see the title, but the demon seems to recognize it as his own.

He flashes her an accusatory glare. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that stealing is wrong?”

Bela stumbles backward, falling onto her hands.

The demon stalks toward her, ignoring the bag on the ground as he passes it. Black fills his vicious eyes.

Bela staggers back. He stands between her and the only exit, and she suspects she wouldn’t get far if she did run. He’s close enough to touch her now. She would barely have time to reach for the gun in her block-heeled boot.

The demon whips around, narrowly missing Ruby stabbing him through his back. She swings again, missing his chest. Instead, she buries the blade in his shoulder and yanks it out.

He screams in pain, doubling over.

“Let’s go,” she shouts to Bela.

Bela scrambles to swipe the bag from the ground and chases Ruby out the door. She hears heavy, staggering footsteps behind her but doesn’t look back.

“Drive!” she commands as she and Ruby dive into the car.

Ruby’s tires crackle on the dirt as she lurches onto the road. Bela turns back anxiously at the warehouse but sees no movement.

“What the hell was that?” she demands.

“That,” Ruby sighs, “was Raim. He’s a demon.”

“I gathered that much,” Bela snaps. “What was he doing there? I thought you said he wouldn’t be back.”

“I said I guessed he wouldn’t be back,” Ruby clarifies.

“Well, hooray for you.”

Ruby glances at her. “You want to keep bitching, or do you want to celebrate a job well done?”

Bela sighs. Her bag, full of priceless objects, sits heavily in her lap, and Ruby’s knife gleams with blood on the console.

“Okay,” Bela agrees. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

Bela wakes in the middle of the night. The silky sheets of her hotel room bed surround her. She doesn’t remember switching off the lamp on her nightstand, but the room is dark.

After the job, she invited Ruby to her room for that drink. She doesn’t hear or see her now, so she assumes Ruby must have turned out the lights and gone home, wherever that is.

Bela sits up in bed. Still in a dreamy state, she knows she hasn’t slept long, but she doesn’t feel tired.

Then, she realizes, someone woke her up.

A chill runs down her spine. Something feels wrong.

She turns her head to face Raim.

Her own screams fill her ears, not pausing for the crunch of her neck twisting in the demon’s hands.

Bela startles awake, hands grasping at her unbroken neck. She sits in the chair in her room, where she remembers deciding to close her eyes for a few seconds. The lights are on, the way they were when she dozed off.

Ruby walks into her line of sight, a glass of ice and something clear in her hand.

She raises her eyebrows at Bela. “You okay?”

Bela runs a hand over her face, in a cold sweat, and smooths out her hair. “I’m fine,” she says, though her voice quivers.

“Well, we both know that’s a lie,” Ruby remarks.

Bela feels her eyes stinging. Before she can blink them away, tears trail down her cheeks.

She brushes them away, not meeting Ruby’s eyes. Bela waits for her to call her weak or delicate or human.

She hears the thump of Ruby’s glass on the counter. Bela thinks, by some miracle, Ruby will leave to let her flounder in her weakness alone.

Instead, she sits in the chair across from Bela’s, leaning forward, elbows on her knees.

“You can talk to me, you know?” Ruby says.

Surprised, Bela finally meets her gaze. Even more surprising is the softness she finds there. One could even mistake it for compassion.

“It was the spirits,” Bela explains, almost without meaning to. “I’ve been working with them long enough that they sometimes they send me warnings when I’m in danger.”

Ruby nods. “Okay. And?”

“And I think Raim is after me.”

Her voice cracks this time. Those dreams always leave her drained, and she doesn’t have the energy to fight the sob that jolts through her body.

She can’t go out like this, not yet. She knows exactly when her time will come, and it’s not now. But the thought of that demon makes her blood run cold through every inch of her.

Something brushes her shoulder, and she flinches away before she realizes it was Ruby’s hand.

Bela offers her a teary, apologetic look, which Ruby brushes off.

“We’ll work on a game plan in the morning. Why don’t you get some sleep?” she suggests. “I’ll be around.”

Bela wants to argue, but once she hears the idea, she can barely keep her eyes open.

Ruby leads her to the bed and pulls back the covers so Bela can collapse inside them. She clicks off the lamp on the bedside table.

As Bela watches Ruby’s silhouette walk back to her chair, the softness of the sheets and the darkness feel too familiar, too nightmarish.

“Ruby,” she voices.

Ruby turns around.

“Will you stay here?”

“I’ll be right here.”

“Will you stay here?” Bela pleads.

Ruby pauses. Bela can’t see her expression as she waits, suspended in the stillness and silence before she gets her answer.

Ruby walks to the other side of the bed. Bela feels the mattress dip behind her, feels arms encircle her.

Ruby runs her hand up and down Bela’s bare thigh. “You’re shaking.”

Upon realizing how terrified she is, how vulnerable she’s let herself become, Bela’s chest begins to tighten.

“Try to relax,” Ruby whispers so close to Bela’s ear she can feel her lips moving.

Bela forces a deep breath into her lungs and releases it shakily.

When Ruby’s lips drift from her ear along her jaw and down her neck, Bela cranes her head to face her, eyes wide.

Ruby pulls back only to place her lips softly on Bela’s.

Bela is too shocked to move at first. But soon, her lips push and pull in time with Ruby’s, parting enough for Ruby to taste her tongue. It’s all the permission Ruby needs.

She slips her hand to stroke the inside of Bela’s thigh, pausing when Bela gasps sharply.

“Just relax,” Ruby whispers.

Bela nods, surrendering her apprehension to Ruby, opening a door to her that hasn’t been opened in ages.

Bela closes her eyes. She feels Ruby peel back the blanket, sending a chill across her skin. Ruby makes her way down the buttons of Bela’s shirt, unhooking each one with ease.

Ruby places feather-light kisses from the valley between Bela’s breasts down to her navel. Bela shudders when she stops there, hands reaching out for her, begging her to continue.

Ruby’s fingers hook onto the waistband of Bela’s panties and pull them off. She returns to Bela’s mouth, pulling at her lip between her teeth.

Without warning, she skims her hand over Bela’s stomach and through her folds.

“Oh.” The moan escapes Bela’s lips of its own accord.

Ruby works her lips down to Bela’s breasts again. Bela reaches a hand up to tug at a fistful of Ruby’s hair as she works in circles.

Bela is almost embarrassed at how easily Ruby’s fingers slip into her. She can feel her own desire dripping, coating Ruby as she explores her.

She bites her lip when Ruby hits right there, and Ruby notices. She strokes the spot while her thumb rubs circles on Bela’s clit. Bela rolls her hips to the time.

Too soon, and yet not soon enough, Ruby removes her fingers and climbs down between Bela’s legs. Her hand is wet as she caresses Bela’s thigh. Her mouth disappears behind Bela’s body.

Bela can feel Ruby’s teeth grazing, her tongue thrusting, her lips sucking.

Then, Bela can only feel the coil buried deep within her winding tighter and tighter still.

It snaps.

Bela whimpers softly between gasps as she comes. Fresh tears fall into her hair.

“We’ve got a problem.”

Bela hears Ruby’s voice before she realizes she’s been shaken awake.

“What is it?” Bela slurs.

The last thing she remembers is the dust settling over the night before and Ruby climbing back into bed with her. Bela fell asleep in her arms then.

“It’s Raim,” Ruby says, out of breath as she darts across the room to close the blinds. “He’s coming.”

It takes Bela a few blinks to realize what she means. When she does, she almost can’t breathe.

“He’s coming here? How did he even find me?” she asks.

“Money’s on he’s tracking something in there.” Ruby nods to the canvas sack on the floor, filled with the stolen items.

“Then, we need to leave it and get out of here.”

“It’s too late. He’s already on top of us.”

As if on cue, a dark figure swings past the balcony and shatters the glass door.

Bela covers her head as she falls to the carpet. When she looks up again, she sees Raim glaring at her before Ruby stands in front of her, blocking the way.

“Ruby and knife, reunited,” Raim says, “albeit at my expense.”

“You stole it from me,” Ruby spits.

“You’re right,” he says. That’s why I don’t want to kill you Ruby. I’m here for the girl who helped herself to my hard-earned personal belongings.”

He tilts his head so Bela can see him, but Ruby steps in the way.

“You want her, you’ll have to go through me,” she says.

Raim clicks his tongue. “Haven’t we been through this before? Last time we went mano a mano, I ended up with that precious knife of yours.” He nods to where Ruby has raised the knife to chest level.

“You know what they say,” she says. “Today’s a new day.”

Raim lunges at Ruby. She thrusts her knee into his stomach, and he doubles over. She swings the knife at him, but he sidesteps her. He catches her arm and twists it with a crack. She yelps, and the knife falls out of her hand.

He picks her up by her jacket and punches her across the face, again and again, before shoving her head-first into the dresser.

She collapses at the foot of it, motionless.

He turns to Bela, who has risen to her feet, the sack in her hand.

She hurls the bag at his feet. “Please just take it,” she begs. “Leave me alone.”

“You still think this is just about the stuff?” he scoffs, kicking the bag out of his path as he walks toward her.

Bela looks at him in confusion as she backs away from him.

“This is about you people—humans—thinking you’re entitled to everything,” he sneers. “Earth, trinkets, ‘get out of hell free’ cards.”

He continues to walk toward her slowly. She feels her back hit the wall.

“Please,” she tries again. “I won’t bother you ever again. Just let me go.”

He pauses, as if considering. “I don’t think so.”

When he glares at her, Bela swears she can see the demon in his face. She shuts her eyes tight.

She hears him roar, then a crackling sound.

She opens her eyes in time to see him fall to the ground, orange still flickering from his eyes and mouth.

Ruby stands over his body, bloody and bruised. She holds her knife, the blade covered in red.

Ruby winces as Bela cleans the blood from her forehead with a washcloth.

“Sorry,” Bela whispers before continuing.

The two sit at the foot of the bed. Blood flows from a deep gash embedded in Ruby’s forehead. Shallow cuts and minor bruises on her face have already begun healing, which Bela attributes to her demonic healing qualities.

The sight of her—the thought that it was all to save Bela—tugs at Bela’s heart. Still, she feels lighter than she has in a while, since the two of them raided the demon’s warehouse. The fear that plagued her is gone.

Ruby, on the other hand, won’t meet her eyes.

Bela knows something is bothering her. Maybe guilt from killing a fellow demon, she thinks, or fear of retaliation from whoever may have considered Raim an ally. Whatever it is, she’ll give Ruby time to work through it on her own if that’s what she wants.

“Bela, I’m sorry,” Ruby says suddenly. “For this, for all of it.”

Bela furrows her brows. “You’re sorry?” she repeats. “Without you, I’d be dead.”

“Without me, he never would’ve been after you,” Ruby retorts.

Bela opens her mouth to argue but can’t find the words. Ruby was the one person she never considered placing the blame on for all of this, the one person she would have blamed had she been anyone but Ruby.

“I should’ve kept my trap shut,” Ruby continues. “It’s just, I knew you were in the area and…”

And I wanted to see you, she finishes in her mind when Ruby pauses.

“And I’m sorry.”

Oh.

Bela sighs, a sudden wave of confidence washing over her. “Well, I’m not.”

Ruby’s eyes flicker up to her finally. “You were terrified.”

“Yes, well…”

Bela thinks back to that deer in the forest, the one Ruby’s car scared off. It ran away, ran hard and fast, for what was probably the hundredth time in its life, and, for the hundredth time, it wasn’t caught. Tomorrow, it could be hit by a truck or killed by a hunter—a real hunter. But today, it’s safe.

“I’m not anymore,” she says.

She kisses Ruby. If she waited any longer, she would have lost her nerve. Even as their lips are pressed together, she’s half-afraid Ruby will pull away, that last night was more out of pity than anything.

But Ruby doesn’t pull away. She leans into Bela like she expected it, like she hoped for it.

And Bela repays her.

Tags: @ellie-andthemachine @gaybrieljax @electraphyng @emerald-watermelon-199 @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​

[alarawriting]

A conversation between a general and a bird

From the story I’m writing right now, which will appear in 52 Project, either this week or eventually, depending on what I feel like tomorrow:

***

“Well.” He motioned the two guards over to the grass on the side of the building. “You’re relieved for a bit. Sit your asses down and get educated.” He turned to the bird. “Find Lieutenant Kallimik and tell her to assign two guards out here for the next hour or so to cover for these two – what are your names?”

“Private Soffrees, sir!”

“Private Baslicos!”

“Right. To cover for Soffrees and Baslicos, because I’ve got them.”

“Two guards. Cover for Soffrees and Baslicos. Asshole,” the bird said.

Marcus sighed. “Not asshole. Can we just forget I ever called Kallimik that?”

“Birds don’t forget. Asshole.”

“Not asshole. If I hear you relayed ‘asshole’ you don’t get any bacon tonight, you hear me?”

“I’m Falli. I love bacon. No asshole.”

“So what are you telling Kallimik?”

“Two guards. Cover for Soffrees and Baslicos. Not asshole.”

“Just go deliver the message,” Marcus said wearily, and Falli flew off. “Messenger corvids. ‘It’s better than sending an encrypted message on a bird’s leg!’ ‘You can train a corvid to carry the message to the right person and not deliver it to anyone else!’ ‘Corvids recognize faces and telepaths can’t read them!’ I miss the days when we sent columbines. Those birds weren’t smartasses.”

“Sir, columbines can’t talk. How did you send messages?” Baslicos asked.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What do they teach you kids? We’d tie coded messages on paper to their legs, or give them tiny backpacks to wear. I know, corvids can be given more destinations, they’re smarter, and if they’re shot down, the enemy can’t get the message off of them. But columbines make pretty coos, not wiseass comments about an offhand remark you unwisely made about a subordinate one time.”

***

Sadly I do not think Falli will re-appear in the story, because I already love them and want to write a whole story about their adventures as a smart-ass messenger corvid.

[clairekatswritingcorner]

The Demonstration

Word Count: 1,232

Summary: When D brings home a guitar she found abandoned in the desert, Rhys learns about one of his wife’s talents he never could have predicted.

*Author’s Note*: A commission for @robotarmjokes! My first commission of 2019, and it’s about this wonderful ship…thank you again D! I was just as surprised as Rhys to discover her knack for guitar, but I also found it equally impressive, and I hope I did her husband’s cheeky reaction justice. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“Where did you find that thing?”

Not long after they’d first met, Rhys discovered that D seemed to have a knack for spotting rare gems amongst dirt. In this case, the gem happened to be none other than what appeared to be a vintage guitar. Well, most items native to Europa were considered vintage out here in the far reaches of space. But from the way D regarded this instrument, Rhys had a feeling that it meant more than he’d assumed at first glance. The detail and intricacy of its design indicated that it’d been crafted with a significant amount of skill and love. The way D held it demonstrated an equal amount of care and caution, and it made Rhys’s heart skip a little to see the broker with such a soft, genuine smile gracing her lips. More to his surprise, when he’d arrived it looked like D was trying to play it. Trying and succeeding. He’d never known his wife had a knack for the musical.

The minute she heard his voice, she almost fell out of her seat. Rhys lunged forward to catch her, and namely the delicate guitar, before either of them could collide with the hard floor. Luckily D managed to regain her balance, simultaneously maintaining a death grip on the instrument that preserved its safety. She often lamented the lack of poise coupled with innate clumsiness she often demonstrated that had sent her tripping into Rhys’s embrace more than once; naturally, he wasn’t one to complain about it. In this case, though, it was obvious she’d been preoccupied with protecting the instrument over herself. Due to her less than flattering self-image, it wasn’t rare for D to consider other things—almost anything else—before herself, be it people or objects, regardless of how inconsequential or incomparable they seemed. Rhys had been trying to help her break away from that habit bit by bit, but now wasn’t the time to bother reprimanding her for her self-disregard.

“You scared the life out of me! Give me some sort of warning next time, will you?” Apparently, D was the one who was going to be doing the reprimanding, anyway. “I could have hurt myself or you when I panicked!”

“You know I can block any of your valiant blows with my arm,” Rhys teased, flashing her a glimpse of the shiny silver peeking out from one of his sleeves. “If you even reached me, that is. You’re short enough, I think I would still be safe from a guitar assisted assault at this distance.”

“Come closer and we’ll see what you have to say then, wiseass,” the broker snapped, and Rhys did his best to stifle his laughter.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he confessed, raising his hands in a repentant gesture. “But seriously, where did you find that? And when did you learn how to play?”

“I found it in a junk pile on a job last week. There’re all sorts of things in the outskirts of those raided bandit lairs and outposts all over the desert. Sometimes I like to give them a once-over and see if there’s anything worth salvaging just lying around, left behind,” D explained, and Rhys was happy to distract her from his irritating quips for a moment. “As for your second question…someone quite dear to me taught me how to play. She’s the one that got me interested in guitars in the first place.”

Her last comment made his heart ache and stomach clench, and he checked her expression to determine if he’d said too much. The cyborg knew there were plenty of things about people dear to D that were probably best left out of casual conversation. He wanted to respect her privacy, and her feelings, so he figured it would be better to let any further questions concerning this particular subject lie.

“Well, from what I heard, you sounded really good,” he complimented, approaching her and placing his soft human hand on her shoulder. “And this one looks like it’s in great condition. Hard to believe anything can survive this well after being left out in the sand and sun like that.”

“I had to dress it up a bit,” she corrected him. “But you’re right, it was in much better condition than I expected, too. It really was a rare find…I’m lucky I came across it.”

“Think you could show me how to play?” Rhys asked, shifting to rest his arm against her shoulder. His tone had a playful edge, but his words were serious. He tilted D’s chin up to get her to look at him, intent on ensuring she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I bet you’d be a really great teacher.”

Face flushing at the drop of a hat, D averted her gaze as quickly as she could, fiddling nervously with the strings beneath her fingers. “I don’t have an extra one, and I wouldn’t want your robot hand to end up getting out of hand—”

“What, you think I’d end up breaking it?” he bantered dramatically, pressing a hand against his chest in an affronted fashion.

“Well, I just think sometimes you don’t know your own strength—” D responded, trying to reassure him under the impression that her words really had upset him.

He patted her arm comfortingly, kissing her cheek and giving her a mischievous wink. “How about this, you play a song we both know, and I’ll try to add my own flair to it?”

The broker was a little confused—and mildly concerned—about what the CEO meant by that, but she still felt like she needed to make up for her previously insensitive remark. Following his suggestion, she started strumming the strings, producing a melody that was plenty familiar to both of them. It was actually a song they often listened to together, one that made both of their hearts swell with love for one another whenever they heard even a whisper of its lovely notes. Rhys stood silently for a few moments, just enjoying the sound of D’s wonderful playing. He seemed to be learning something new and intriguing about her almost every day lately, and of course, it certainly wasn’t something he’d ever been tempted to complain about. Much like her eye for rare potential in the random pieces of rubbish she occasionally came across, Rhys saw nothing but magnificence in her. It was part of what he loved about her.

Coming in at a lull in notes, Rhys lent his voice to the flow of the song. D’s fingers stuttered, distracted enough by his sudden accompaniment that she almost lost her place. But he touched her arm encouragingly, and she readjusted her focus the best she could to continue supporting his words with her sweet music. She’d fallen asleep to his voice more than once; his singing was one of her favorite sounds in the world, hands down. When they were able to showcase their talents, their hobbies together like this, it felt like just another reminder that this was how life was meant to be. Rhys’s voice was D’s solace, and her talents were his treasure. They could only hope that they’d be able to share even more of themselves with one another in similar ways, continuing to strengthen their connection that transcended words, and communicating the unspoken and unbreakable love that thrived between them.