#I will be staring disrespectfully at everyone's thighs

[homoeroticgrappling]

Forgive me in advance for the things I will say during Hook VS Shibata

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Thanks @welcometololaland @beautifulhigh @orchidscript for the tags today—hopefully that’s everyone, apologies if not—and to everyone who’s tagged me over the last few weeks. The old mental health is once again Not Great Jim and writing is not coming easily but unfortunately it is also the only way I know how to feel good about myself so here we are persevering etc.

This is from the blackmail kink fic—if that’s something you’re morally opposed to, I support your right to feel that way but I also do not care, keep scrolling xoxo

Snippet is under the cut but first, tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice

@everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz

@leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites

@ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @piratefalls

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27

@sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

Otherwise, (hopefully) enjoy the spice below the cut…

It started on Reddit, as all good decisions do.

Alex has always had a bit of a thing about being watched. It’s not narcissism—shut the fuck up, Nora—he just… really fucking likes knowing that he’s the one getting someone off. Since starting college, Alex has perfected the art of the risqué selfie; keeping his abs and thighs in the shot as well as his dick, lighting himself well, making sure he’s suitably vocal as he strokes himself when he posts a video instead of a picture. Reddit, with its ridiculous number of NSFW subreddits ranging from the expected to the terrifyingly specific, is an instant feedback loop of people more than willing to tell him, in explicit detail, exactly what it is about his body and his actions and his sounds that brings them over the edge. His DMs range from respectfully horny to disrespectfully horny in a way he’s been very clear he’s onto, with only the odd one that is actually disrespectful, and they find themselves on the inconvenient side of the block button before Alex can say ‘fuck off’.

And then, a few months after he started posting semi-regularly, he opened his Reddit chats to find a message reading simply:

NYU? Pretty sure I recognise that view out your window haha

It should have been terrifying. It was, genuinely, a good reminder about stranger danger. Except Alex had gotten a hand around his cock without thinking about it, staring at the words on his phone screen, mind spinning with the possibility that someone could put two and two together, that someone on campus might have dozens of pictures of Alex’s dick on their phone without Alex knowing, that someone could put him on his knees to stop his secret getting out…

He’d come harder and faster than he had in months, and spent the next several hours down a brand new fucking rabbit hole.

[camilleate]

God you're oblivious

It was a ask at first but it got longer so I did this... Hope you enjoy...

Julieta enters her best friend's room not knowing he's not really dressed up.

____________________________

Julieta knocked on her best friend door, more of her biggest crush but no one had to know she was lovesick about her best friend, his mother opened the door.

"Oh hi Julieta, it's nice to see you. I imagine you want to see Tino, he's in his room." She says pointing to a door upstairs even if the girl knew where his room was.

"Thanks, I'm just giving him his book back I'm not taking long." She sees the disappointment in her crush's mom's eyes.

"Oh too bad i hoped you would have stayed with us, plus you and my boy are getting pretty close aren't you." She only blushed at the coming. She just walked towards the stairs to not look into the older women's eyes.

She's in front of the door, she blushed just as imagine being in the same room at what she thought was the most handsome man in the world, the cook knocks on the door to be sure she's not disturbing him. "Come in m-"

The young girl opens the door just as she hears 'come in' but when she saw it she was dark red.

He was there on his bed looking at a book while being bare chest with only pants on, he was so handsome looking so seriously at this book but he still had a little smile she saw the title of the book it was a romance book he loved romance, that one of the reason he was so sweet and romantic even to her, only in her dreams she thought she could see him like that and also only in his dream he had a beautiful body like that. Natural abs, beautiful muscular arm with those little sexy scars on it, she loved those scars, his beautiful collarbone, some sweats drop and his chest hair only God knew how much loved them.

But he hadn't finished his sentence so he finished "mom... You are definitely not my mom." He chuckled. Her response was her cute snort laugh, God she hated it but everytime she did it Agustín looked at her with those eyes you give to someone you care about, the same she gave to him.

"What gave me up?" Still giggling like the lovestruck teen she was. He stood up walking towards her. God he was gorgeous...

"I'm just really smart," she laughed at that since he was the most oblivious man on earth "what do you need anyway."

"Oh yeah right here's your book," he looked at it and took it in his hands 'omg he touched my hands with his, his hands at way softer than I would have thought' "I kinda want another do you have one that I could like? Or your favorite maybe."

"You already read my favorite it's the one with the two best friends falling love." She stared at him, the number of times she imagined that the character were Agustín and her. "It's my favorite too." He stared back and thought 'I know it is you told me, that why it's my favorite because you love it.'

He turned to the library he looked through his books to find one for her, while she looked so disrespectfully at his gorgeous muscular backthose muscles that were so hot. She was just there fighting the urge to touch him and kiss him and maybe more if he was ok with it.

"Yeah... And speaking of love how's your love life?" She was thinking of a decent answer 'I love you please go out with me i want you so much. No not that.'

"Well ma want me to go out with a Guzman or whatever but there's this one guy I like he's the most gorgeous man I ever saw, he have glasses I find that hot." He turns around with a book in his hands and hands it to her, to continue the talking they sat on his bed really close to each other. He was blushing at that sentence 'Does she really like glasses that much? Does she finds me hot? No of course not she's perfect.'

He started naming every guy with glasses but when he finished he didn't found "I literally named everyone of them. Is there a new guy? Are you replacing me with a new guy? I feel so betrayed..." He joked, she did thee snort thing again.She put a hand on his cheek the other one one of his thighs "God you're oblivious..." She placed a sweet kiss on his lips before pulling away some seconds after. He looked so stupidly stunned. She chuckled "I like the outfit by the way." She put the hand that was on his cheek on his torso.

He looked at her lips and leaned in for a slow, wet kiss they both melted into it, he putted a hand on her hips, she let her tongue enters his mouth. It was perfect until someone knocked on the door and entered to find her son bare chest with Julieta having her hands all over him and him having a hand on the girl's hips.

"... i won't tell Alma but please lock the door and use protection." They both looked at her eyes widen. "MA! It's not what it looks like, it's just a kiss the first one we've ever shared... Well second one actually but that not the point the point is we're not sleeping together. Not the first night atleast..." She chuckled.

"It's ok I don't care, I'm just happy you guys realized you liked each other." She was about to leaves when her screamed at her. "YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!" Both women chuckled 'so oblivious...' they thought. Then she really left and they stood up they looked at each other before kissing again this one was like the last one but they weren't interrupted this time they said their goodbye. During the whole night neither of them could get those wonderful feeling to go away.

They ended up seeing each other again the next morning, this time in Juli's room since her mother trusted her but also thought Agustín was definitely not her type, they shared sweet kiss while cuddling, they also really said 'i love you' to each other.

It's only some day after that her whole family got told and they were happy about it and Alma said she was surprised but also not because they already acted like a couple before actually being one.

[harringtown]

the summers we saw - epilogue

and that’s a wrap! thanks so much for the love and support on this au, it means the world! thanks for reading!

catch up here

Summary: A year ago, the reader almost died in Starcourt mall, and left Hawkins, and Steve Harrington, behind. But now Hopper is alive, and they end up back in Hawkins (aka a rescue mission, old feelings, and plenty of angst)

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

-

“Steve Harrington!”

The frustrated voice echoes down the halls of the apartment, followed by stomps and the slow patter of footsteps behind them. The door to your bedroom pops open and Reagan marches in, planting her hands on her hips and fixing Steve with a cold stare.

Steve, laying sideways across your bed with his head in your lap as you read, frowns, sitting up and shoving the half eaten bag of chips beneath the covers. He leans back down, using your thigh to prop his arm on, and giving Reagan an innocent smile.

“Don’t think that just because you’re dating my best friend I won’t murder you for eating my food,” Reagan warns. Robin, close on Reagan’s heels, joins her girlfriend in the doorway, wrapping her arms around her from behind and rest her chin on Reagan’s shoulder.

“Technically,” Steve points out, “you’re dating my best friend, too.”

“Did I ask for your technicalities, Harrington?”

“You agreed to his bullshit when you let them move in,” you remind her, laughing.

“I was tricked,” she says. Robin grins.

“I swear, I didn’t touch your chips,” Steve says. You roll your eyes, shoving him off your leg. He grumbles, pushing himself up and moving to sit against you.

“Try again,” Reagan says. A sheepish grin tugs on Steve’s lips.

“I swear, I will pay you back for the chips.”

“Last try.”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the near-empty bag out from behind him, shaking it. Reagan’s expression turns murderous, which only amuses Robin, who ducks around her girlfriend to cross the room and take a handful of chips from the bag.

“I’ll buy you another?” Steve asks, cocking a brow. Reagan smiles, satisfied.

“Why, thank you, Steve, you’re so nice for buying me two bags of chips to replace the one’s you so disrespectfully stole.”

Steve climbs off the bed, wrapping up the empty bag and chucking it into the bin by the desk, waggling his brows at Reagan as he slips past her and into the doorway.

“I’m guessing Robin didn’t tell you about the ice cream we ate last night?”

Reagan turns to Robin, eyes narrowing.

“Dude!” Robin exclaims. “Not cool.”

Steve winks at her, heading down the hall, calling, “Or the taquitos!” Behind him as he runs for the kitchen, presumably to take stock of the damage a drunk Robin and Steve wreaked last night after a bottle of wine. Reagan ducks after him, cursing his name, but both their laughter wafts down the hallway quickly after.

Robin flops across your bed, rolling to face you, lips curling up in a smile.

“I heard from Nancy,” she says. “Everyone’s good. Hopper and Joyce are finally getting a place together. Kids aren’t raising too much hell.”

“Good,” you say. “They deserve to be happy. God knows they’ve earned it.”

“So have we.”

You smile, looking around you and Steve’s bedroom and the hallway beyond it, leading to Robin and Reagan’s room and your tiny kitchen and even tinier living room. It’s tight, but at nights, the city wakes up and the smell of the ocean sticks to every brick and tree.

There are no monsters, here, not any real ones. There are skeletons in closets, rattling behind you, and one day, each one of you will have to open the door and shake their hands. On that day, you hope to find them dissolved to dust, incapable of causing any more harm.

“Are you happy?” Robin asks.

You think of Robin and Reagan, giggling together as they cook or press kisses to each other’s cheeks and noses, of their infectious joy. You think of the kids, heading into a world with no monsters. You think of Joyce and Hopper, finding peace after so much chaos.

You think of Steve, and the battles you fought to get here.

“I am,” you say. “I think I really am.”

-

“Wake up.” The soft voice pulls you out of sleep, and you blink awake to find Steve sitting up above you, a tiny smile on his face.

“What time is it?” You ask groggily, pushing up and wiping your eyes.

“1:30,” Steve says. “Come on. Up and at em.”

“Steve, what on god’s green earth-”

“Oh, hush up, and come with me,” he says. You frown, but climb out of bed, slipping your feet into slippers and padding out into the hallway after Steve, following him through the living room to the balcony door. He pushes it open, stepping out into the dark, and you follow, nudging the door shut behind you.

In the night sky above you, stars dance across the sky, seemingly falling into the abyss.

Steve wraps his arms around you from behind, lips grazing your ear when he whispers, “Meteor shower.”

You lean back against him, his shirt soft and his hold steady, breathing in the smell of the ocean and the sharp, clean scent of Steve’s aftershave.

“It’s incredible,” you whisper.

“Pretty sure that means we get, like, a thousand wishes,” he says. You laugh, twisting in his arms to face him, winding your arms around his neck.

“Yeah? And what’s your first wish?”

He smiles, ducking his head to press a careful kiss to your lips.

“Already got it,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes.

“Okay, Romeo. We get it. You’re romantic.”

“Glad you noticed,” Steve says. His expression turns serious. “I’m serious, though. Last year…when you were gone…this was what I wished for. To have more time with you. To fix things.”

“We’ve got time, now,” you say. Steve smiles, ducking his chin and pressing his face into your neck, arms tightening around you. You bury your face in his chest and grip the fabric of his shirt tightly, etching the lines of this moment into your memory, begging it to stay forever.

“Everyone does,” Steve says. He pulls away, lips curled up in a smile. “All of us have all the time in the world, because of you.”

“Not all me.”

“Mostly you.”

You roll your eyes, turning around in Steve’s arms to look up at the stars, again. The shower is over, but there are still a million worlds up there, a million miles away.

“I love you, you know,” Steve murmurs. “And not just because you saved my ass.”

“But partly?”

“Oh, of course. Just a bit.”

You laugh, and Steve’s chest shakes against your back as he laughs, too.

“I love you, too.”

“I know,” Steve says. You snort, and tip your head back against his chest, letting out a breath.

You’ve made a lot of mistakes, and running away was the biggest of them. Sometimes, we don’t get to fix things. Sometimes, we just have to move forward and try to forget.

You got lucky. You got a second chance. And you’ll be damned if you waste it.

-

Taglist: @with-a-little-bit-of-light​ @mochminnie​ @izzylizzybizzy @harrington-ofhawkins​ @sassisaluxury​ @used-avocado​ @prettyathenarising​ @pies-ducks-and-mangoes​ @sourapplebaby​ @lyka-k @mightstudysoon​ @m-blasterrr​ @random-thoughts-003​ @comedy-witch

[originalhybridloverfics]

I Don’t Know Who I am Without You Ch4

A/N: It's been a long time since I updated this one. I hope you like the chapter and I hope it provides a welcome distraction from the crisis we are currently experiencing all around the world.

Curtis frowned when he walked into the bunker and found a box sitting on the table addressed to Team Arrow. He opened the small box to reveal a picture of Felicity and William and beneath it a drive. 

Brow furrowing, he grabbed the drive and plugged it in and watched horrified as Diaz broke into Felicity's home and attacked her. 

"What the hell is that?" 

Curtis jumped at the sound of John's booming voice, he spun around and saw John's eyes zeroed in on the footage. 

"I found this addressed to the team." Curtis held out the photo. 

John took it, and his hand started to shake as he stared at the faces of Felicity and William. William looking into the camera, a light in his eyes. Felicity laughing freely, her arm tucked around the boy. 

Tears filled his eyes as he looked at the photo. "Diaz sent this?"

"I think so, and there's a surveillance video."

"Play it," John ordered. 

John's heart pounded as he watches Felicity walk into the frame then stumble back suddenly as Diaz entered the room. He tensed as he watched Felicity grab the nearest thing she had. A coffee pot and throw it at Diaz before running. 

Diaz slammed into her from behind, she crashed into the floor, head smashing against the coffee table. Still, she rolled and kicked Diaz in the chest, knocking him back. 

"Felicity!" William appeared in the frame, scared. 

"Run! Get out now!" Felicity yelled at him, and the young boy hesitated. "Now, William!" 

William took off running, and Felicity grabbed a hot poker and swung it at Diaz, sending him crashing to the floor, but he kicked her feet out from beneath her. Felicity hit the floor hard, she scrambled back to her feet, reaching for the fallen poker. 

Diaz threw himself at her sending her crashing into the table. He turned her and slammed his fist into her face, splitting her lip and pulled out a gun, slowly getting back to his feet and aimed it at her. 

"Do you have any idea how much I wish Oliver was here?" Diaz grunted, his voice low and scratchy. "To have him helpless as I put a bullet in your skull. How satisfying it would be for him to see his son's chest riddled with bullets."

"If you touch him, I'll..-"

"You'll what? Hack me to death? Make idle threats you can't back up?"

"I'll kill you." 

Diaz laughed. "You don't have what it takes to kill, sweetheart."

"You don't know what I'm willing to do to protect my son!" 

"You can't protect anyone when you're dead." he ground out, his finger tightening on the trigger.  

"No!" William appeared suddenly, throwing himself into Diaz. 

The gun sounded, and Digg flinched. His chest tightening as Felicity gave a startled cry of pain. 

Felicity lept to her feet, yanking William away from Diaz and grabbed the hot poker, and swung it at Diaz's head when he started to get back up. 

He collapses to the floor, clutching his head, and Felicity grabbed William by the arm, dragging him out. "Get to the car!" 

John watched with bated breath as the screen went black for several minutes then came back, with the image of a car, speeding down the street. 

He knew it was coming, but it didn't stop the pain from ripping into him as he watches the car explode, fire engulfing it until nothing was left. 

"God, that was hard to watch." Curtis swallowed the lump in his throat. 

John shook, hands clenching into a fist, the picture in his hands crumpled. In a fit of anger, he swept his arm out, sending the computers crashing. 

"John!" Curtis yelled. 

John didn't stop there though, he picked up a fallen computer and sent it crashing into the glass case that held his spartan suit, glass flying everywhere. 

Curtis backed away alarmed, not used to seeing John Diggle, who was, for the most part, calm and collected so livid with rage. 

John whirled around anger burning in his eyes. "He doesn't get away with this. I don't care what we have to do. We're going to take this son of a bitch down. He is not going to kill another family."

Curtis nodded. There was nothing to say. John was right. Diaz needed to be brought to justice for what he did to their own. 

                                                    ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"You've got a letter, Queen." 

Oliver didn't so much as look up as the letter landed on his cell floor. Instead, he stared at his hands, discovered black and blue, the skin split, splatters of blood. 

Oliver clenched his fist, and he felt pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest with every breath he took, knowing he was alone. 

His son was dead, and Felicity was gone from the world. Why was he even still breathing? What was the point?

"I think you should really take a look at that letter, Queen, or should I say Green Arrow." 

Oliver looked up slowly, eyes hard as he stared at the guard. He didn't like the way the man's eyes gleamed or the sick smirk tugging at his lips. 

Oliver stood and knelt down, grabbing the letter, seeing it only had his name and no forward address, he opened it. Inside was a small note. 

Such a shame to lose your family so brutally. I wish you could have seen it. You still can. I hope you enjoy the pictures as much as I did, Diaz.

Oliver crumpled the letter up in his hand, dropping it to the floor. He pulled out a small stack of photos. He clenched his jaw as his eyes iced over.

The picture of a burning car, staring back at him, had his heart clenching in the worst way imaginable. Just the sight of it made him believe he could hear the sound of his wife and son's cries as they were burnt alive. Hear William crying out for his father, hear Felicity screaming for him. 

He moved to the second picture, and it was another one of the vehicle, the flames burning higher. He moved to the last film, the fire was out, but all that was left was the charred wreckage. 

Oliver's grief and sorrow were quickly being consumed by the raw anger coursing through his veins. 

"Diaz sends his regards." Oliver's head snapped up to the guard, seeing his hands wrapped around the bars. 

The smirk, his words, the look in his eyes, all of it was triggering, screaming at him one fact. He was one of the people under Diaz's pay.

Oliver lunge, his arms reaching between the bars and yanking the officer into them until he could grasp him by the head. He slammed the guard's head against the bars again and again. Inmates started to yell and cheer. 

Minutes later, the other guards intervened, swinging their batons at his arms, weakening his hold and dragging the officer out of his reach. 

The guard was unconscious and bleeding, his face covered in so much blood. The blood had dripped down on Oliver's wrist and arms. 

Seeing the man bloody and battered did nothing to quell Oliver's rage. When the other guards opened his cell. He fought because why the hell not he needed an outlet for his anger.

He took down three of them before one took his baton and struck behind his bad knee, sending him to the floor. After they were like a pack of hyenas, hitting him all at once, he didn't block the blows. 

Oliver allowed every strike to hit him. 

The pain that shook him was welcoming. He wanted it. 

Felicity and William's last moments on this earth were filled with excruciating pain. It was only right that he suffer even a small fraction of that pain. 

He was the reason they were dead. If he had been there, maybe his wife and son would still be alive. 

He never should have left the island. He never should have come home. 

Felicity would be alive and safe, probably running her own company by now. 

And William would still be alive, living with Samantha in Central City. 

Everything that went wrong in their lives boiled down to him. He destroyed everything he touched. No matter how much he loved them, it didn't change one undeniable fact. 

He was poison to everyone he came into contact with. 

It was going to stop when he killed Diaz. 

Once he accomplished that there would be nothing left for him. There was no point for him to go on. 

                                                    ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Being thrown into the hole had become the new norm in the coming weeks for Oliver. 

He spent more time there than he did in his actual cell. 

It got to the point that he no longer could keep track of the time or the days. 

When Oliver was free, he spent it searching for anyone inside who had ties to Diaz he could exploit, but so far, he was coming up empty. The only connection he found was the dirty prison guard he bloodied his hands with. Unfortunately, for both of them, the man had too much head trauma and had fallen into a coma. 

It was one thing Oliver did not feel an ounce of guilt for doing. 

He was sure he would finish the job if the guard ever woke up. 

It was no surprise that he snapped on a single notice in the prison yard when he was approached by a man twice his size, with an ugly smirk. 

The man really should have never even mentioned his wife. 

"Arrow, what good was it saving the city when you couldn't even protect your own wife." 

Oliver was on a weight bench, but he rose up slowly, eyes narrowing as the man pulled out his picture of Felicity from his jumpsuit. 

"How did you get that?" Oliver ground out, his eyes darkening rapidly. 

The man smirked. "She really is a looker. I'll give you that. Too bad she's dead. I get out in two months. I would have loved to get between her thighs and give her what you no longer can. I could have been your son's new father. I hate kids, but if I could have stuck it to your wife, it would have been worth it." 

"One more word about my wife, and I will break you." Oliver's vision was decreasing rapidly, and all he could see was this piece shit speaking of his late wife, his soulmate, so disrespectfully.

The guy steps closer. "Tell me, was she a screamer? How good was she?"

Oliver snapped. He struck his hand out, his hand smashing into the man's breast bone. 

The man stumbled back, abruptly coughing. 

Oliver struck again, chopping him in the throat. As the man choked, clutching his neck, he whirled around, ripping the weight bar from the bench and slammed it into the man's ribs. He followed it up with an attempt to take the man's head off, swinging the bar like it was a baseball bat. 

The man crash to the ground with a sickening crack. Oliver kicked him onto his back, the thought of stopping, not even crossing his mind. 

He climbed over the man, tossing the weight bar aside and started pounding his fist into the bastard's face. His words ringing in his ears. 

He didn't stop. He couldn't. He struck him again and again until he felt the shocks of a taser. The sharp stab of a needle in his neck, something being injected into him. The alarms of the prison blaring loudly. 

His vision blurred. The last thing he saw was the man he had beaten to the inch of his life, face bloody, near unrecognizable. 

Oliver slumped to the ground, the darkness surrounding him, and he welcomed it.

It was all he had left. 

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Digg walked through the doors of Slab Slide. He hadn't been there since he had delivered the news of Felicity's and William's death.

It had been weeks. It was no easier walking through the doors with the intent to see Oliver than it was the first time. Digg's chest was heavy with failure every second of every day. He failed to do the one thing Oliver asked of him. To protect his family. 

Still, he had received calls from a friend who worked inside Slab Slide who spoke of Oliver's outburst. How he had attacked a guard. Digg came to see Oliver with the intention of trying to reach his friend. 

Oliver needed to be reminded of the man Felicity fell in love with. 

She wouldn't want this for him. He failed to protect Felicity and William, but there was still a chance he could save Oliver from himself, from the darkness he was letting consume him. 

"What do you mean, I can't see him?" Digg demanded after he was told, Oliver's rights to visitors had been revoked. 

"Mr. Queen has been experiencing violent outbursts. It's gotten to the point that we had to separate him from the other prisoners."

"What did he do?" John asked warily. He hoped Oliver hadn't completely lost it and killed someone in cold blood. He had watched his brother come so far since his days as the Hood. 

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that." The officer replied. 

Diggle glared harshly. "If I cannot see my brother, the least you can do is tell me why?"

His glare must have done exactly what he wanted because the guard looked around nervously before replying. "He attacked a guard, putting him in a coma, and he beat another inmate nearly to death a few days ago. He hasn't woken up, and there is little brain activity. It doesn't look good. If he doesn't pull through, Mr. Queen is looking at another murder charge." 

"Jesus, Oliver." Digg cursed. Maybe he was too late. Maybe he couldn't stop Oliver from giving in to his demons and becoming the man he was when he first met him. A man who was lost, searching for the light, only this time, his guiding light had been extinguished. 

Forever. 

                                               ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Lyla was unsure what more she could do to help her husband. 

Johnny was having such a hard time with everything. He blamed himself for William and Felicity's death, for Oliver's turn to his darker side. 

It wasn't his fault. Lyla wanted to help him see that, but she was starting to think that the only way to do that was to give him closure. 

Maybe then, he would be able to stop blaming himself for something he could not change. 

The only way she thought he would be able to do that was to make peace with what happened. She didn't know how to help him do that, but she figured a good start would be to go to the crime scene. 

Maybe if she found something, anything that could lead them back to Diaz, it would help Johnny and the Team in some way, and perhaps it could give Oliver peace of mind. 

Oliver was never going to be able to get justice for his family as long as he was behind bars. It was up to her and Johnny and the Team to get it for him. 

They owed not only Oliver that much but Felicity and William as well. 

Lyla started with the safe house, other than Argus, and the feds investigating the scene everything was left as it was the day Felicity and William were killed. The living room and kitchen were in shambles, there were spots of blood staining the floor. 

Lyla moved through the home, realizing Felicity and William's things were still there. 

She swallowed down the lump that filled her throat. Since Donna and Thea were still in the dark about what happened, it was up to Johnny and her to take care of Felicity and William's belongings, and they hadn't. 

A part of her knew they stayed away because if they left their belongings alone, it was almost like they were waiting for them to come home. 

It was a misplaced hope because Felicity and William were never walking back through the door. They were gone. 

Lyla picked up a framed picture. It was at Oliver and Felicity's reception. 

They were all gathered around a table, laughing. Felicity was tucked between her boys, and William was tuck into his father's other side.  

Lyla opened the frame and took the picture, slipping the photograph into her jacket. Wanting to give it to Johnny so he could have something of the other side of their family. 

She walked out following the path she knew where it happened. 

Where Felicity's car blew up with her and William inside it. 

The wreckage was no longer there, but Lyla still remembered walking onto the crime scene the first time, seeing the destroyed vehicle for herself. How it had been burnt so badly, no human remains could survive such an explosion.

Lyla's eyes moved over the scene. She frowned when she spotted something on the ground a few feet away from where the car was found. She crouched down low. 

There was a stain of blood on the ground leading into an alley. 

Her frown deepened. Why hadn't they noticed the blood before? 

How could they have overlooked such an important detail? 

They knew from the shell casing that was discovered at the crime scene that a gun had been fired. What if someone was actually hit?

What if Felicity or William had been hit? 

If they were bleeding but were in the car when it exploded, how did their blood end up on the ground? 

Unless Felicity and William had escaped the car before it blew and that would explain why there were nobodies. 

She followed the blood. It led her to an alley with a dumpster. The blood stopped. She whirled around her heart, sinking as the trailed ended. 

She turned again, and something glittered, poking out from behind the dumpster. 

Frowning, Lyla scooped down, heart pounding in her chest, as she lifted the white gold charmed bracelet. 

She would recognize it anywhere. 

Johnny gave it to Felicity for her birthday two years ago. It was a beautiful charm bracelet with an arrowhead, a knight, and a wifi charm.

Felicity wore the bracelet every single day. 

Lyla's breath rushed out of her. A weight being lifted off her chest as she was filled with a knowledge she believed with every fiber of her being. 

Felicity and William were not in the car when it blew. They had gotten out. They got away, and they were out there somewhere.

Alive. 

She had to tell Johnny. They had to tell Oliver and the rest of the Team. 

And most importantly, they had to find them at all cost and make this right. 

A/N: Thanks for reading. Until next time. Stay safe everyone!

I don’t currently have tag list for this story so if you want me tag just let me know. 

[mortularchive]

redhorncl asked: "Oh, if one more person calls me darling, I swear to you and God that I'm going to murder them all."

@redhorncl​​／ the horror and the wild ／ always accepting.

“...”

Christoph couldn’t help but stare at him for what felt like, maybe, an hour. It was actually (um, well, actually--) for a few seconds, but he liked the first option much better. A bonus, too, was that it was way more hilarious by a literal, fuckin’ mile. He won’t say that out loud, though, because if he actually was sitting right by the next big headline in the news then, uh... well...

No thanks? Respectfully and disrespectfully.

What’s making this all the more simultaneously funnier yet weirder was that he couldn’t, legitimately, tell if the guy was serious or not. The thought of imminent death wasn’t anything new to Christoph (pfft! been there, done that! it suuucks.) but, eh, he’s not going to speak for everyone but... also?

He’d like to think that being killed wasn’t at the top of anyone’s bucket list. And if it was? Then, well, he’s going to call them a fucking weirdo and move on with his life, simple as that.

“Well, well...” he decided to speak after some further, rather thorough (it wasn’t thorough at all, but christoph’s already determined that if he dies then... uh, he dies? he guesses?) studying of the other -- and he still can’t seem to figure out if he’s being dead ass or not, sooo... great! -- with a quiet, little snort following after. “Now that ain’t somethin’ you hear every day.”

He’s just going to take it as a vent, because, hell, he’d probably be saying the same thing if he went through... uh, whatever the hell it was that this poor (maybe?) guy was going through.

Maybe not in public, though, because that was a big no-no. It’s not like anyone would be able to hear them, though, since it’s later. Most of these shmucks would rather be rushing home after a long day at work or are rushing to work because they forgot something or another and they’re already late, shit shitshitshit-- and so on, so forth.

One hand came down to slap itself against his thigh, yanking a little bit of attention to himself as he leaned a tiny bit into the guy’s space. Juuust a smidgen, though... a little, itty-bitty speck of dust’s worth. That’s all.

“Ya seem pent up, buddy,” he started, veering closer and closer into “aww, come on... ya can cry on m’y shoulder,” territory, “wanna talk about it--”

Here’s where true colors show, because his face’s starting to look like he’s the one that’s pent up but, like, in a totally different way. He’s clearly struggling not to laugh and holds zero shame in how painfully obvious he’s being about it. To make it, somehow even more infuriating, a small snort escapes before he proceeds.

“--darlin’?”

[jewelofwakanda]

French Inhale 0.1

OKAY. This took me way longer than it should’ve. But, I’m finally content with what I was able to get down. Now that FI is a series, I really felt like I needed to get some backstory going for Zorah and Erik. If you missed that post/announcement, the face claims are here. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Words: 2,308...Zorah will always be bold italics, everyone else is bold. I will do my best to separate the dialogue (since there’s a lot of it) so that’s it’s clear. If it runs together too much, please let me know so I can work on it in the future. Also, this one is a little link heavy. Any outfit that is linked is the exact outfit mentioned, for the record. Not sure what they look like in mobile and I think I did a good enough job describing things if you want to skip them.

Black, plus-size OC x Erik “Killmonger” Stevens meet for the first time during a “transaction”. Not really sure if this fits in any category (not smutty or fluffy or angsty at all) but was very necessary IMO.

“So, you really not gon come with me? I’ll even wait for you to get off work.”, Zorah whined into her phone. Her trusty weed man had disappeared off the face of the planet (probably busted by LAPD) and she needed to cop something, like, yesterday. She asked her best friend, Naomi, for her plug’s information and assumed she would make the introduction. Zorah was sadly mistaken. 

“You grown, and Demo don’t bite…unless you want him to.”, Naomi threw back, Zorah could hear her snickering under her breath.

“Oh my God, shut up! I can’t just roll up to that man’s house asking for tree. He’ll probably think I’m the feds or something.”, Zorah complained.

“I already told him you would be stopping by, sent a pic and everything. He actually sounded interested in meeting you.” 

“I am not about to start dealing with a drug dealer, Naomi.”

“But, if the weed man is your man, we’ll be smoking for free for the rest of forever.” 

“Then, YOU date him, Nay. I’m not interested. And, what the hell do you mean you sent him a pict—” 

“Huh? Um, I gotta go girl, my supervisor just walked in. Luhyoubye.”, Naomi said in all one word, cutting her off and hanging up. 

“I’m gonna kill her.”, Zorah thought to herself as she put Demo’s address in her GPS. He didn’t seem to live that far away, and Naomi told her he was occasionally willing to make deliveries. If he acted right during this transaction, she might have just found a new connect. 

She pulled up to Demo’s blue and white one-story home and was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t the usual type of trap house she was used to frequenting, very unassuming if you will. The shiny, black Aston Martin and fully loaded Jeep in the driveway made her question what other drugs Demo was dealing. Weed doesn’t buy you two expensive cars, let alone an Aston. 

She parallel parked on the street and slowly approached the front door, thinking twice about knocking. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting herself into, when the door swung open on its own. 

“Oh hey, you must be Zorah.”, a tall, handsome man with smooth, caramel colored skin and long dreads greeted her, motioning her inside. She definitely saw him look her up and down, making her feel like a certified snack. ‘Damn, Nay didn’t tell me he was so fine’, Zorah thought to herself, hoping her face wasn’t a dead giveaway to her instant attraction. 

“Just make yourself at home, beautiful.” he said with a charming grin, leading her to his living room, “I’m just finishing up with another customer.” He strode into his kitchen leaving her with her thoughts.

‘Make myself at home? I might move in with your fine ass.’, she said to herself as she sat down on his large, velvety couch trying to keep it cool. Zorah took a moment to take in her surroundings. Demo’s house was unexpectedly clean and comfortable. 21 Savage was playing faintly in the background from the Beats Pill+ she spotted laying on a rather impressive entertainment system. The 50” flat screen TV, various gaming consoles and probably every game known to man made it clear what he spent all his money on. She noticed the room was nicely decorated and the paint on the walls coordinated well with the soft, dark brown sectional that took up most of the living room space. ‘He must’ve had a girlfriend pick all this out for him’, she assumed. 

“Nah! Fuck you Demo!” The booming voice of another man came loudly from Demo’s kitchen, snapping her from her thoughts. Even though she couldn’t really catch what they were talking about, the paranoia set in. She was alone, without back-up, in some random man’s house. She didn’t know who that other person was or if Demo had weapons. What if one of them tried something? She was usually a laid-back individual and never backed down if she needed to defend herself but being outnumbered made her nervous. She made a mental note to curse Naomi out for not coming with her. Zorah decided to get up from the couch and busy herself with a tall shelf full of pictures close to the front door. If she had to make a run for it, she was ready. 

There were a lot of pictures on Demo’s shelf, mostly of family and friends. One of Demo graduating from what looked like high school surrounded by what she assumed were his parents and siblings and a little girl in his arms, she couldn’t have been more than one year old at the time and was practically his twin. She saw the same little girl throughout a lot of the portraits, most of them with her father usually wrapped in a tight embrace. She giggled at one of Demo and his little girl throwing up the ‘Westside’ symbol and scrunching their faces for the camera, attempting to look tough. She could tell he was a good, if at least involved father, and that was impressive. More than a few of them were taken at various clubs with his large group of fine ass friends. One guy in particular popped up a couple times mean mugging the camera, showing off his gold grills and bad boy sex appeal. With his short dreads either braided back or secured to the top of his head, he had impeccable style and a body to match. Zorah felt her heart beat a little faster. She was drawn to this stranger, even more then she was to Demo. She felt her body heating up, the attraction making her squeeze her thighs together.  

“Damn, Demo. All your customers this thick?”, Zorah whipped around, hot with more than just embarrassment when her eyes met with his, the same man she had been ogling just a moment ago. 

“Not as thick as her, nope.”, Demo replied. The two men before her were staring her down like a piece of meat. She didn’t usually take too kindly to so much lascivious attention, but she found herself at a loss for words. 

The mystery man had one eyebrow cocked and a sly smirk painted across his face, looking her up and down. He made her feel naked. 

“What’s ya name, ma?”, the mystery man spoke first, closing the distance between them as Demo plopped down on his couch, setting up his scale to finish the two transactions. 

“Um…”, she paused feeling foolish. She was drawing a blank, unable to make the words come out of her mouth, “Zorah…it’s Zorah.” 

“Hmmm...Zooraahh.”, he breathed, elongating the last syllables. She loved the way her name sounded, rolling lazily off his tongue. 

“The name’s Erik, but you can call me Daddy.”, he responded, flashing his gold fangs and extending his hand. She furrowed her brows and shoved her hands in her army fatigue jacket pockets. Was this nigga for real? They literally just exchanged names and he was already jumping to dirty talk? 

“Niggaaa! You really ain got no chill, do you? You need to quit before you scare her away.”, Demo laughed out loud at Erik’s boldness. 

“You know me, D. I get’s straight to business. So, Zo, you gon give me your number or what?” She was speechless. If any other dude would’ve stepped to her so disrespectfully, she would’ve drop kicked him in the throat and given him her ass to kiss. She decided to take the high road and ignore him. She snorted in his face and turned her attention to Demo. 

“So, I need a quarter. How much do I owe you?” 

“I’ll do it for $20 if you smoke one with me.”, Demo answered with a flirty grin. Jesus, him too? Zorah was having the dry spell of all dry spells; she’d spent the last eight-ish months practicing celibacy...a decision that had been made after six months of not getting any. Even after being set up on a few blind dates by various friends, the mediocre conversations with less than notable men left Zorah exhausted and a bit jaded.  Now, suddenly, Zorah had two fine ass men vying for her attention. 

“Weren’t you just telling me about some freak that was supposed to come through soon?” Erik asked, trying to throw salt in Demo’s game. 

“Didn’t YOU just finish telling me about the two thots you kicked outta your spot just an hour ago?”, Demo retorted. 

Zorah looked back and forth between the two men, thoroughly amused and mildly irritated. She couldn’t believe they were sparring back and forth, spilling all the tea about each other, as if she would fuck around with either one of them. As fine as they both were, Zorah didn’t date drug dealers or disrespectful assholes…if she could help it. 

“Look, I didn’t come here for allathis. I just want some tree. Can one of you life ruiners do that for me, please?”, she complained. 

“I can do a lot for you, but sure. Whatever you say.”, Demo said reaching into a jar and pulling out a few massive buds of purp, putting them on his scale. 

“Damn, girl. Why you so mean?”, Erik interjected, “You don’t like niggas or something?”, the shit eating grin on his face let her know he was playing around, but she didn’t like it. 

“I don’t know you like that, sir.” 

“So, that’s a no.” 

“Just because I’m not interested doesn’t make me gay.” 

“You wouldn’t be so icy if you weren’t. There’s nothing wrong with that, baby girl. I like eating pussy too.”, Erik replied.

Demo snorted again at his daring friend. Zorah had had just about enough of this nigga. “What? Y’all too cute to get rejected? These other hoes might be falling all over themselves to lay on their backs for you, but I ain the one. And, I know a fuck boy when I see one.” 

“I do a little flirting and now I’m a fuck boy?” , Erik asked placing an offended hand on his heart, trying to appear wholesome.

“You told me to call you Daddy. What the hell am I supposed to think?” 

“I’m not about wasting time, ma. When I want something, I take it. Dassit.”

“First of all, you can’t take what’s not being offered. And second of all, you really not all that. If I was interested, you would know.” And with that, she stood up from the couch, dropped the $60 she expected to spend on the coffee table and headed for the door shoving the plastic sack of weed in her pocket. 

She could hear Erik and Demo laughing as she stepped outside, not bothering to close the door behind her. Who the hell did he think he was, talking to her like that? Whatever she had been feeling looking at his picture, had been replaced with disgust. He was rude as fuck and she wasn’t going to stand there and let him play around with her. She barely noticed Erik jogging towards her as she slammed her car door in frustration. 

“Yo! Princess! Wait up!”, he yelled to her, hoping she wouldn’t pull off. 

“What do you want?”, she glared in his direction. She really didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say…so why wasn’t she pulling away? 

“Demo wanted me to give you this.” It was all three of her twenty-dollar bills. 

“But, I didn’t even smoke with him.” 

“I know, he said it was on the house. I guess it’s his way of apologizing for my behavior. Look, Zo, I was just playing around in there, ya know, a little harmless flirting. I ain mean to make you storm out like that.”, he smiled innocently as he leaned into her car window, “Lemme make it up to you?”

She took the bills, putting them back in her wallet and thought about her next move. Part of her wanted to laugh in his face and pull off. Show him that it didn’t matter how fine he was, he couldn’t just talk to women any kind of way and get away with it, especially not her. But, she also couldn’t deny the attraction. Yes, he was clearly an asshole, but she was inexplicably drawn to him. What is it about annoying, self-absorbed players who laugh at their own jokes that she couldn’t resist? 

“So, what exactly does that entail?”, she asked skeptically, hoping she wouldn’t regret opening this door she somehow knew would be a bitch to close.

Erik raised his eyebrows in surprise, probably assuming she would tell him to go to hell, “Well, I don’t wanna make you fall in love too quick.”, Erik gave her a smug grin. He obviously couldn’t resist being a smart ass, “How about we start off slow and match one? Your place, tonight?” 

“Uh, cute. Try again.”, she countered as he threw his head back in laughter.

“Alright, alright, we’ll meet somewhere neutral and hotbox. Is that better, your majesty?” 

“You got jokes, huh? Fine.”, Zorah conceded handing him her phone so he could enter his number. She could tell he was used to being in control. Having any and every female at his beck and call. Zorah wasn’t about to play that game with him. 

“So, you gon call me later?”, he asked handing her back the smartphone.

“Maybe.”, she shrugged and pulled away from Demo’s street, leaving Erik in her dust. She eyed him from her rear-view mirror as he watched her drive away and couldn’t contain the excitement simmering in her core. Whether this was a fling or (dare she think it) the real thing, she couldn’t deny the magnetic attraction. It was electric. It was inevitable. It was trouble. And, maybe it was about time she got into some.

alrighty, y'all. dassit. again, all comments/suggestions/criticisms are welcome. I would really enjoy any input you guys have because nobody knows Erik like y'all do (lol). and keep an eye out for Part II. I’m working on it, trust me.

@iamrheaspeaks @supersizemeplz @theunsweetenedtruth @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @eriknutinthispoosy @cancerianprincess@myboyfriendgiriboy @thehomierobbstark @chaneajoyyy

wanna be tagged? just lemme know.