#Key Assurance Assignment Help

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Falling Behind

Synopsis: The Prefect has ADHD and was medicated for it back in their old world, but when they go to Crowley for help getting a diagnosis here, he brushes them off. They proceed to struggle until finally breaking down. (+ Crewel basically steps up as a father figure)

TW: Pretty descriptive with the negative effects of The Prefect's ADHD, Talk of medication, The Prefect cries, Crowley says the usual things people who deny/downplay ADHD say, Crewel has the "Help me help you talk" with The Prefect, The Prefect cries and is overall just GOING THROUGH IT

NOTE: I went off of my experience as a person diagnosed with ADHD and medicated for it. My experience with it won't apply to everyone else with it, but rest assured this won't be a fic that portrays ADHD like a silly, goofy little quirk. (This is a pretty self-indulgent fic, tbh)

Many people who are diagnosed with ADHD and medicated accordingly have the thought cross their minds every once in a while of "Do I really need the medicine?" When you're on ADHD medication for long enough, you forget what it's like to not function at the level you do when taking it. The memories of the difficulty focusing can slip away with time and leave you doubting. You were no exception.

Key word is were.

When you got thrown into Twisted Wonderland you learned pretty quickly that the medicine in fact does help and that you in fact do need it.

But how would you even go about getting it here? You'd need a diagnosis and for that you'd need a psychiatrist and for that you'd need money (and an official identity which you did not have as an alien to this world).

You tried bringing it up to Crowley, but he brushed it off. He said the same lines you had heard 100 times before, many of which you found yourself thinking from time to time: "You just need to make yourself work. You're unmotivated." and, while he didn't say it out loud, you could clearly tell that what he was really saying was that you were lazy.

You suppose you should have expected as much. No headmage that gave two hoots about mental health would be running a school that has no student counselor.

After that interaction you had resigned yourself to the fact that you'd have to come to terms with being a student and doing schoolwork with no relief to your condition.

You tried your best, you really did. You sat at your desk for hours on end as you tried to finish a simple homework sheet, but hours passed with virtually no progress being made. You couldn't force yourself to focus. When you did your body protested. Your brain refused to allow a single proper thought to form and your eyes wouldn't focus. If you forced the issue further, it only got worse. Your brain and eyes felt somehow heavier than usual and sometimes you swore they were slowly liquifying to a goo in your skull.

You didn't bring it up to your friends. You felt weird talking about it with them. One too many times being told you were faking or doing it for attention you suppose.

Your grades began to slip. Deadlines popped up when you could have sworn you had more time. You made little mistakes you chastised yourself for. You knew the material. You knew you knew the material.

. . .so why were you messing up.

Assignments piled up and slipped through the cracks. It's not like your teachers could notice how out of character this was for you. They didn't know how well you typically functioned when medicated, and it's not like you told them about the disorder in the first place.

Each night you held back tears of frustration as you tried desperately to get any work done. You weren't one to cry easily. In fact, you hadn't cried since you got to Twisted Wonderland, and even before that it had been a while since you last allowed tears to drip from your eyes.

But everyone has a breaking point.

You had gotten so far behind on your assignments that it was decided you needed more than to simply stay in the classroom to work during lunch and you were put in after school tutoring (although it felt more like detention).

The first few weeks you managed to keep it together. You taped over the holes that chipped away into your composure and did your best to hold down the storm of emotions that thrashed violently inside of you.

Another day of after school tutoring came around. By now not even Grim was having to stay for these sessions. There were other students that were in them, but they were in a separate classroom. You knew what was happening even if nobody outright said it.

You sat in Crewel's empty classroom for the second week in a row. The clock on the wall ticked impossibly loud. Every sound around you was amplified tenfold and you could feel it wearing on you. Your arms shook in a sick combination of frustration and exhaustion as you tried in vain to get one question done.

You could feel the ugly jaws of your pent-up emotions gnashing away at your already tattered walls of composure.

Crewel sighed as you once again failed to answer the question: "Look, I really do want to help you, but in order for that to happen I need you to cooperate and listen to me. Right now, it feels like you aren't doing that."

You had had this conversation with him before; with all your teachers for that matter. You used to it. YOU WERE USED TO IT.

You chanted the phrase in your head over and over again.

"What do you not understand."

He didn't say it in a malicious way. He sounded genuine, just. . .exhausted.

He didn't know. He wasn't aware of the storm in your stomach slowly making its way to your eyes. He didn't know.

You don't blame him, but when he said those words you finally broke.

It wasn't anything grand or dramatic like you see in movies. A small catch of your breath in a short-lived attempt to hold it together and then tears. You choked on your sobs as you tried to quell them. The only thing worse than crying is crying in front of people.

Your knees curled up onto the bench, up to your chest, and you hugged them: trying to hide your face and muffle your sobs.

It was no use. Crewel already saw the tears.

He was momentarily stunned at how suddenly you seemed to break down and could only watch as your whole body shook with the sobs you were trying so desperately to hold in.

When he finally snapped out of it he was still unsure of what to do, so he did the only thing he could.

You felt his large, fluffy coat be draped over your shoulders before he somewhat awkwardly sat a comfortable distance away from you as he waited for you to calm down.

When your sobs finally quieted to small whimpers he apologized for making you cry.

You explained it wasn't his fault and, after a bit of silence, you explained to him what was wrong.

He sat with you and listened patiently as you told him about your ADHD, the trouble you'd been having since you got here, and finally recounted your interaction with Crowley.

He led you to the infirmary not far from his office, telling you he'd be back soon and to rest for the time being.

Luckily for Crewel, the headmage's office was just about as far away from the infirmary as it could be.

He could scream as loud as he wanted without disturbing you.

By the time he returned to the infirmary it was late. He was about to apologize for leaving you there so long but stopped himself.

There on the bed was your exhausted form curled up in his coat and sleeping peacefully.

The next day he asked you a few more questions, and the day after that, he accompanied you to the doctor's office. (you didn't bother asking how he managed to get you registered as an actual person)

You went through suspiciously less steps than you had back in your old world to get the diagnosis, but you just chalked it up to the fact that it was clear by your appearance that you had been going through it.

You got your medicine the same day. Wait. . .did Crewel just tell the pharmacist he was picking it up for his child?

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Work-Life Balance

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, forced proximity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Clark Kent

Summary: a simple car pool leads to a compicated situation.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A haze of chatter buzzes behind your monitor. You do your best to tune it out as your fingertips skitter over your keyboard. For many, the day has been a wash, but you’re doing your best to square everything before the weekend. With the prospect of one less employee, you’ll need all the help you can get. 

“Hey,” a deep voice rolls through the drone, “you coming?” 

You keep typing, trying not to eaves drop. You tap the arrow keys, reviewing the column of numbers. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” they say firmer, tapping on the corner of your desk. 

As if zapped, you recoil from your keyboard and sit back in your chair. You look at Clark as he smiles down at you, his expression much less demanding than his tone. You give a sheepish smile, or something halfway there. 

“Sorry, I was...” 

“I interrupted, I should apologise,” he insists, “Drea’s farewell party, you going? We’re just about to head out.” 

“Um...” you don’t have an answer. It’s optional but you should go. You’ve been working with Drea for two years. You get along. Still, she’s leaving in the midst of busy season and won’t be there on Monday to help you catch up. “I...” 

“Come on. You look stressed. You could use a break,” he says. “The Grill has cocktails, so I hear.” 

“Well...” you twiddle your fingers against the armrests. “I guess I should.” 

“It’ll be good,” he grins. The cleft in his chin deepens and his eyes crinkle, sparkling like blue ice. “I’ll let Gil known you need a seat. We should have some room. Meeting down in the lobby in ten.” 

“Oh, ten...” you look at the screen, “sure, I’ll be there.” 

“Great,” he backs up. 

He walks away and you roll closer to your desk again. Clark is friendly. You don’t know much about him but he always says hello in the break room or holds the door if you get to work at the same time. Mostly, you just overhear him talking with others. He is somehow anywhere and everywhere. 

Your focus is fractured. You do your best to get back to your task but can’t help but check the clock every thirty seconds. Somehow, you’re still late. You save your work and shut down, scrambling out as the new silence of the office sets in. 

You swipe up your bag and scurry between the desks. The elevator door closes before you reach it. You’ll wait for the next or... You take the stairs. It’s only a few flights but you’ve been sitting all day. Your legs are stiff as you get to the bottom. 

You come out in the lobby. Your coworkers are on their way to the front door, garbling even louder than they had upstairs. You hesitate, wondering if you could just sneak back up. Would anyone notice? 

Your name splinters the thought. Clark waves at you and stops to wait as the others continue through the door. Right, you’ve been spotted. You flutter your fingers at him and cross the lobby. He holds the door as he always does. 

You pass through ahead of him, “thanks.” 

“Don’t worry, we didn’t forget you,” he assures as he follows. “Gil’s driving us,” he points across the lot. 

“Right, awesome.” 

You get to the grey minivan as the doors slide back. Several other groups cluster around other vehicles in their assigned car pools. You wait patiently with Clark as your coworkers claim their seats. 

“Oh,” Gil stands by the driver door, “think we’re outta seats.” 

You and Clark stand staring at one seat. You cringe. Of course. 

“It’s okay. I can get an uber or check with...” 

Sandra’s white SUV backs out and Don’s Honda is too small for much more than a few. You turn back, “I can find my own way.” 

“We can squeeze in,” Clark says, “what is it? A ten-minute trip?” 

“Something like that,” Gil agrees. 

“Here,” Clark gets in the seat, “I’m bigger, just hop on.” 

“Just don’t be obvious about it, I don’t need a ticket.” 

Gil gets in the front as Clark climbs into the back seat. The others are too distracted chatting about some sports game to pay any heed. You stare at him. He's big man; wide shoulders, tall, the very definition of burly.

“Come on, it’ll be quick,” he fixes his glasses. 

“Erm,” you swallow. How awkward. Still, you don’t want to make a big deal. You already feel like a leftover. 

You get in and squeeze into the tight space between the seats. He pulls the door shut, his knees pressing into your legs, and you fall onto his lap. You let out an oof and feel around for something to steady yourself. 

You grab onto his forearm unwittingly, “sorry, I...” 

“All good,” he shifts under you, “comfortable?” 

“Um, I guess,” you put your hand up to brace the ceiling. 

“Let’s go,” Carrie demands from the backseat. “I need a martini.” 

The van reverses then swerves around. You jostle on Clark’s lap, squeaking at the bounce of the axle. The well-worn minivan has been through it. 

As Gil turns out of the lot, you grab onto the door to keep from sliding. Clark hooks his arm around you to keep you still. You shudder and try to adjust yourself, only pressing more firmly in his lap. 

You apologise again. 

“It’s fine,” he chuckles. “So, you got a lot of work?” 

“Um, sure,” you’re happy he’s at least trying to break the tension. “Without Drea, things are going to be, er, tight.” 

A pot hole bounces you and makes him grunt. Heat creeps up from your thighs and encases your torso. It’s even more awkward than you could expect. You didn’t have time to think this through.  

“Yeah, I can imagine but I’m sure they’ll fill her spot soon,” he assures. 

“Maybe,” you agree thinly. 

Another jolt. The city really needs to work on the roads. You hold onto the door as Clark’s arm tightens around you. He groans with the motion of the car. You crane to see around the driver seat. You gotta be getting close. 

“Well...” his voice is strained. Are you too heavy? “You know, there’s lots of people who can help out.” 

As the van passes over the lip of the parking lot, something pokes into you from below. You gulp and latch onto the seat in front of you. It can’t be. Clark pulls his arm back and spreads his large hand over your stomach. His other hand pushes down on your thigh. You feel him twitch under you and the prodding is more obvious. 

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” you squeak. 

Gil finally finds a spot but there’s no relief to be had. You’re pretty sure you know what’s poking into you and you don’t want to embarrass your coworker. As the van stops, you twist in his lap, unintentionally grinding into him. 

You grab onto the door, fighting to pull it back, only managing to rock against Clark as you struggle. He lets out a long breath and reaches over to help you. His other hand trails around your back and nudges you out slowly. 

You eagerly hop out ahead of him. He groans and takes his time. You don’t look back, instead focusing on the restaurant marquee. The other laugh again as some joke you didn’t catch. Gil is on his phone as he gets out. 

“I’ll follow, wife’s calling,” he gestures you with a flick of his fingers. 

“Come on,” Clark gets out and closes the door. “I’m starving.” 

You walk up next to him, following the rest of the group. Another bunch of your coworkers reach the door ahead of them. Clark clears his throat and your gaze is drawn to him as he tugs at his belt. How horrifying. Hopefully, you can find a seat away from him or the elephant in the room will be standing right on your chest. 

You hurry ahead to catch the door behind your coworkers. Clark grabs it past your head and stays close. You approach the reserved table but find most of it is already claimed. There’s a space at the end of the bench. 

You go down and sidle beside the table. Clark takes your lead again. The bench spans the wall and you’re penned into the corner as he sits beside you. He leans one arm on the table as he looks down at the menu. You lean forward to do the same. It’s a good distraction. If neither of you mention what happened, then you’ll get through this. 

“What’re you thinking?” Clark asks. 

“Huh?” You look at him, startled. 

“What’re you going to get?” He taps the menu, “some interesting stuff. 

“Oh, I’m still looking,” you say. 

You put your head down and drag a finger over the options. As you do, you feel a tickle along the side of your skirt. You wrestle between the pad thai and the salmon salad as the sensation creeps over your thigh. 

You tense as warmth spreads over your thigh. You lean back and look down, realising that Clark’s hand is on your leg. He kneads your thigh as he stays perfectly unaffected above the table. He leans on his elbow and sucks his teeth. 

“Pasta sounds good but it feels too early for that,” he muses. 

What do you do? You look around. No one else has any clue. You’re too self-conscious to say anything. He could just move his hand and say you’re lying. Then what? Besides, you were sitting on his lap a few moments ago. What would they think? 

Clark’s leg moves wide and presses against yours as he hums, “you know, I just can’t figure out what exactly I’m craving,” his hand trails down to the hem of your skirt. “But I am starving.” 

[1d1195]

Dolcezza Extra II

Read Dolcezza here | ~2.4k words

From me: something sweet and sexy

Warnings: smut, oral, and nothing else except some fluffy bits

Summary: She's had a long day and Harry wants to make it better.

There was a knock on her door immediately followed by Harry’s key unlocking the door. Harry always knocked even though she assured him it wasn’t necessary. “Jus’ want you t’know s’me,” he shrugged when she told him. She glanced up from her desk to see Harry enter. “Hey Principessa,” he smiled tiredly. A double at the restaurant on a Saturday was brutal. But it was especially brutal during the holiday season when people flitted in and out between shopping for gifts and getting holiday dinners done with extended friends and family.

He looked exhausted.

She knew the feeling.

“Hi baby,” she smiled. Even if he was tired, he was still really pretty and lovely. She didn’t know he was going to come up after his shift. Sometimes after a double, he wanted to go home and shower. But today he seemed to be in need of some snuggles.

She was still working. Which made Harry a bit insane. On a Saturday night. She could see it in his eyes as he crossed the room. His exhaustion slowly replaced by worry for how much she was doing. What did she prioritize today that resulted in her being unable to do something she loved and had to catch up on work at a late hour? Did Emma have a math assignment she needed to look over? James and Ethan needed her help with cleaning? Or did her mom ask her for help booking a hotel for the family wedding in the coming month?

Harry hated his double shifts not only because he couldn’t see her, but because he couldn’t take her control (just a hair) so that she wouldn’t end up working at eleven at night on a Saturday. “Bad day?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes. He was tired, but it wasn’t a bad day. Honestly, he had fun at work. He and Niall worked well together so unless it was busy and understaffed, it never felt much like work. “No, kitten. M’annoyed you’re working.”

She dropped her gaze. “I like working,” she reminded him.

“Shouldn’t be working at eleven at night,” he reminded her.

“Well, I was going to read but then I was really into this plan I’ve created. I wanted to make sure I got it done before I lost my train of thought. The data I’m looking at has this really cool model and I was analyzing it, and it looked like it was trending down, but I think it’s actually trending up—” She stopped mid-sentence, her cheeks turning that beautiful shade of pink that Harry fell in love with. “Sorry, you’re tired.”

He smirked. “M’jus’ glad y’didn’t stress yourself doing stuff for your family.”

She looked at her lap. “Do you want me to be honest?” She sighed softly.

He sighed rubbing his hand over his face. “Principessa,” he tutted.

She frowned, fidgeting her fingers while Harry sat beside her. “They’re just so helpless Harry.”

“I know, kitten. But they’re all adults.”

“Barely,” she grumbled.

Harry sighed, pulling her into his lap and kissing the top of her head. He was glad all that had happened in this apartment didn’t deter her from living in it. Harry loved this apartment. Loved that it was right above him while he worked, that she was never too far away from him. “How much time do y’need?” He asked rubbing the back of his head. He didn't want to give her time. But he wanted her to be happy. Work did make her happy and he knew she would feel guilty if she didn't finish it and it would spiral into her worrying more anyway.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty. I’ll take a shower. Then we can go t’bed, yeah?”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” she pressed her hands on either side of his face and brought her mouth to his. “You made garlic bread and didn’t bring me any,” she frowned licking her lower lip.

He snorted. “Niall told me t’leave,” he shook his head. “He’ll bring some up when he’s done cleaning up.”

She smiled delightedly. “I have the best life,” she sighed dreamily, falling back into her swivel chair dramatically. Harry kissed her forehead.

“Don’t work too hard, Principessa.”

*

Harry enjoyed the warmth of the shower and felt a little more like himself when he returned to her in the living room. Her eyes still focused on her screen; the pinch of her brow puckered in complete concentration. “Um...any chance you’d be okay with like ten more minutes of me working? Emma called me because...well, I don’t want to bug you with the details, but she needed my help and—”

Harry knew whatever it was, she was putty to her younger sister’s request. She was too sweet, his pretty princess. “S’fine, but m’gonna help,” he turned her desk chair, so she spun to face him. She frowned.

“Hey, I was—”

He ignored her protest and lifted her from the chair to the desk lifting underneath her thighs. Harry was glad she was wearing her sleep shorts. The ones with an impractical slit on either side of her hips. A T-shirt that didn’t match swam around her frame. One that she bought because it was easily three sizes too big.

“Harry,” she tried again, steadying herself with hands on his arms as he gently pushed her laptop away from her reach followed by the notebook and pen she used to jot down her notes and to-do list. “I was—”

Harry watched her eyes and slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, through the leg opening, and pressed his fingers right past her underwear, between her folds, and directly onto her clit. Cutting her off with a gasp. “You were what?” He asked softly. Even if she wanted to talk she couldn’t. “M’jus’ going t’take care of you, Principessa. Y’do too much for everyone else. S’only fair.” Her heart rate was flying, and it mirrored the rapid fluttering of her eyelashes as Harry searched gently between the soft sensitive skin between her thighs. “S’that okay?” He asked.

She nodded breathlessly.

“Good,” he sighed. “Love t’take care of you,” he murmured and knelt down so his head was between her thighs. “Y’okay, kitten?”

She nodded again. “Please,” she whispered shyly.

“Aw, y’don’t have t’beg, Principessa. I’ll give y’anything y’want,” he winked, tugged the fabric that was in his way from between her thighs, and then pressed his mouth to her center. She gasped leaning forward, threading her fingers through his hair for balance. His locks were still damp from his shower, and she knew she would mess up the curls and flow from messing with it before it was dried. She hoped she could blame it on bed head.

She supposed in some ways it was bed head.

She moaned quietly as his mouth devoured her. Suckling and licking at her just the way she liked. Harry loved to be between her thighs. It was a regular part of their foreplay, and it never ceased to amaze her how deliriously good it felt. His lips and tongue were sinful. The man was so sweet looking and downright boyish with his cheeky sweet grin. For fucks sake he called her a princess in another language. “Y’can moan louder, baby. Y’know it’s soundproof,” he murmured kissing her thigh as he spoke to her before he wrapped his lips around her clit.

Just like that. Her sweet boyfriend was anything but sweet when he said stuff like that. When he swirled and lapped at her clit the way he was. It was dizzying.

She whined pulling on his hair to press him harder against her core. He moaned against her as she did. The vibration caused her body to react instinctively. Her thighs tightened around his head, and he moaned again. “That’s good, Principessa,” his voice was practically thoughtful. “So good, kitten. S’that feel good?”

She nodded. “Yes, yes, yes,” she whispered the repeated word as if it was all the same syllable.

“You’re so good, Principessa. Jus’ want t’make y’feel good,” he nipped at her inner thighs while he spoke his breath cooling off her wet skin. She was simply soaked between her arousal and Harry’s mouth. “All jealous ‘bout garlic bread," he teased, shaking his head. "Y’taste better than anything we make,” he mumbled and traced his tongue down her slit then back up, running a tantalizing circle around her clit again. Her eyes actually rolled back in her head. She thought that was only in books and for dramatic show in movies. She didn’t know Harry could really make her eyes look for the back of her brain. He sucked hard on her clit making an obscene slurping noise that would have embarrassed her if her place wasn’t soundproofed to near silence. Although she thought the moan she released could have broken the barrier. “Y’make such sexy noises, kitten,” he groaned and continued to torture her with pleasure.

“Harry,” she gasped.

“What Principessa? Y’close? Y’want me t’make y’come?” She nodded shamelessly; wanting it so bad she thought she would cry if he denied her (as if he could ever dream of denying her anything). “M’jus’ going t’touch—”

She cried out as he pressed his finger into her. His lips wrapped around her clit while his tongue continued circling around the sensitive nub. He rubbed his finger against her walls, once more feeling around expertly, the way she liked that made her toes curl.

The smug son of a bitch smiled against her as she clenched lightly around him. “That’s it, Principessa. Want you t’come all over me,” he moved his finger in and out at a faster pace timing it with his licks so that she was nearly worried she was going to pass out from pleasure.

“Oh fuck, yes,” she whimpered, and Harry groaned right against her.

“Keep going, baby,” he hummed fingering her and licking her like it was the only thing he planned on doing. “There it is, good kitten,” he praised which only made her melt into a puddle.

Her orgasm seemed to last way longer than she thought possible. Her thighs kept squeezing around him after it officially stopped. Like she was trying to hold onto the final waves of pleasure. “Do y’want another?” He inquired thoughtfully once more.

Another orgasm, especially of that caliber, would definitely make her pass out.

“No thank you,” she whispered.

He chuckled and kissed the inside of her thigh. He pulled her clothing back into the correct position and he sat in her office chair before he pulled her into his lap. She could feel how hard he was through the shorts he was wearing as she fell into his hold. He kissed her neck, wrapping one arm securely around her waist. The other hand found her inner thigh, slightly sticky with sweat, arousal, and Harry’s saliva. It was hot and messy, but Harry didn’t seem to care. Probably because he was responsible for the mess. Instinctively, she squeezed her thighs again, against his hand. “Y’sure, Principessa? M’happy t’make y’come again,” he offered kissing her cheek. “Y’seem a little turned on still?”

“Just... it felt really good. It’s,” she blushed and smiled at him shyly. “It’s lasting a while,” she mumbled and tucked her face into his neck.

His quiet laugh shook through his chest and her in his embrace. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured. “Especially when y’come.” She shook her head against him, but her thighs betrayed her again. “Let’s go t’bed, Principessa.”

She perked up a bit. Her eyebrows knitting together to meet in the middle of her eyes. “I think it’s your turn—”

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “Some other time. That was purely for you,” he stood, holding her legs around his waist. She blushed, giggled softly.

“Harry, you had such a long day. It’s hardly fair.”

“Not 'bout being fair. Plus going down on you s’by far one of m’favorite things t’do," he shrugged one shoulder.

Her cheeks still felt warm. “You’re pretty good at it,” she nodded in agreement.

Harry chuckled. “Cute.”

He walked to her bedroom, setting her on the bed. “I really needed to finish a few things—”

“It can wait ‘till the morning.”

She sighed. He was right. Harry was good at making sure she was doing more for herself. Although that usually entailed him doing stuff for her. Which didn’t seem like a good trade. Harry opened her main door briefly. He returned to the bedroom holding out the garlic bread immediately to her lips. With his free hand he cupped it below her jaw to catch any crumbs that didn't make it into her mouth.

“I really do have the best life,” she sighed, crunching on the bread. He smirked.

“Do y'want more?”

She shook her head. “I love you,” she sighed dreamily.

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

Harry put the garlic bread in her kitchen, turned off all the lights, and came back to her bedroom. “Let me brush my teeth. Garlic isn’t pretty.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he assured her, cupped her face and kissed her as passionately as he could. Like it was their first kiss. Or the one they shared the first time they had sex. The kind of kiss she imagined would greet them on their wedding day, whenever that would be. He pulled away briefly, pecked her more softly, then kissed her forehead. “Delicious,” he promised, licking his lips cutely.

Harry went to the other side of the bed and pulled her to his body as soon as he was settled. His arms wrapped tightly around her, his lips on the back of her head, kissing her hair. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do something for you?”

“M’always turned on by you, Principessa. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Jus’ taking care of you.”

“But you had a long day.”

He shrugged. “M’feeling fine. Don’t worry ‘bout me, kitten. I promise.”

“I worry about—”

“I know,” he chuckled, squeezing her closer somehow. His body wrapped around hers like vine. “Go t’sleep, Principessa. Y’can go back t’being an angel tomorrow and taking care of everyone under the sun,” he sighed.

She shook with silent laughter. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, kitten. I get jus’ as much pleasure out of that as you.”

“That can’t possibly be true.”

“If y’let me do it again, I’d definitely come,” he shrugged one shoulder and he kissed the back of her head then tucked his face into the crook of her neck. “I love you,” he reminded her.

“I love you,” she sighed.

“Sleep tight, Principessa.”

For a few moments there was no noise except their quiet breathing. “Harry?”

“Hmm?” She squirmed awkwardly. “Do you want another orgasm, now?”  She shook her head. “More garlic bread?” A swift nod. He chuckled untangling himself from her. “One minute, m’love.”

“God, I am the luckiest girl in the world.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[atsuberry]

🍰 ˚₊‧꒰ა my faves as your roommate ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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fc: atsushi nakajima, akutagawa ryuunosuke, louisa may alcott, HP lovecraft, ivan goncharov, sigma, fyodor dostoevsky

cw: college au, ooc charas, pure fluff, g/n reader, reader is lowk awkward, mentions of overdose

a/n: wow.. first post (GEULPP) I'm nervous, I hope you guys enjoy this though!! <33

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♯ 🍓┆Atsushi Nakajima .ᐟ

The sweetest roommate EVER.

You have a buttload of assignments? He'll help you! You made a mess? He'll clean it for you! You're sick? He'll take care of you.

He's genuinely so nice it makes you tear up a bit..

Always trying to find a way to find a conversation with you, oh you like working out? That's crazy because he suddenly has a membership card a few days later!.. you like anime? His favorite is the same as yours!

Shares the most concerning stories about his past and brushes it off as nothing..

And then you just stare at him dumbfounded.

Gifts you stuff as his apologies! Mostly stationery stuff, or stuff that you like.

♯ 🍮┆Akutagawa Ryūnosuke .ᐟ

Never interacts with you.

Never.

Only talks to you when he needs something

That doesn't go the same for you though, you lost your keys? That's on you.

He's a light sleeper, so if you're cramming your studies in the middle of the night making a bunch of unnecessary noise, he's wide awake.

He really needs his sleep.

Only stays on his side of the dorm, if he dropped something that somehow rolled over to your side, he'll ask you to fetch it for him. (Who does he think he is)

If you're a quiet person, he'll probably tolerate you.

♯ 🥨┆Louisa May Alcott .ᐟ

Was scared of the idea of sharing a dorm at first,

Eventually you grew onto her, but it took like A LOT of time

Sometimes, you'd see her pass out on her desk while she's studying

So you cover her up with a blanket..! (this became a frequent thing)

Louisa always notices the blanket as soon as she wakes up and feels sheepish about it,

You assure her it's fine! But you're still concerned about the fact she just LITERALLY passed out.

Sometimes asks for you to leave the dorm whenever she's doing her assignments,

And you're like, huh???..???

You shrug it off anyways.

You invite her whenever you're going out!

♯ 🥧┆H.P Lovecraft .ᐟ

He's literally non-existent

Never talks to you, only talks when you start up a conversation with him first.

He's genuinely terrifying

His side of the dorm is practically empty, he sleeps on one pillow.

He genuinely does not gaf

Whenever you're going out, he'll sometimes sleep on your bed to see if your bed is more comfortable than his.

(it is!)

Overall, he's just there, doesn't really do anything.

♯ 🥞┆Ivan Goncharov .ᐟ

High-key low-key a neat freak

He mentally disturbs you sometimes due to how unpredictable his emotions are, since he's constantly happy all the time.

Usually talks about Dostoevsky to you.

Lets you wrap his head with bandages if he's feeling lazy, but he's like, VERY detailed on how he wants it to be wrapped.

If you're a messy person then he's gonna be a real pain in the ass

If the two of you were to share a bathroom, literally the whole bathroom would be filled with shampoo bottles or whatever thingamajigs he has.

Whenever you're going out, he ALWAYS asks you to run an errand for him.

“while you're on the way, can you buy me..”

You're his errand person.

♯ 🍪┆Sigma .ᐟ

A chill roommate

His hair does concern you.. like, what even is that?? A Christmas tree??..??

It does feel nice to braid it though, the white and purple strands go well with each other when it's tangled up.

Never lets you cook, like no trust at all

Insists that y'all should just get take out instead,

Rude, but oh whatever..

Do you think he's the type of guy to show you funny videos of animals

Idk man...

♯ 🥯┆Fyodor Dostoevsky .ᐟ

His appearance genuinely concerns you,

He definitely has a shrimp posture when he's sitting.

Definitely stays up until 6 in the morning.

Only drinks like coffee for the whole day,

You try to pursue him into eating more, but he declines everytime.

However if he WERE to sleep, he'd definitely talk during his prayer before going to sleep.

(his prayer would be 10 minutes long)

One time, you caught him drinking a pill in the middle of the night thinking he was overdosing,

Turns out he had just forgotten to take his iron supplements.. whoops.

Impossible to sleep around him, his screen is always blaring a bright screen on his computer. (Unless you somehow manage to sleep around that.)

[insidemyrottenbrain]

Henry wants to move away from the city and surprises you with a country house …

Surprise get away - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Precious anonymous, I hope you enjoy Henry's modest get away plan.

Henry disappears for weeks, only for him to come back with a surprise.

Henry as a lover is not particularly affectionate. He doesn’t suffocate me with besotted compliments and gentle touches. The space he allows me is welcomed with much gratitude, however, this doesn’t mean I do not enjoy the occasional in-bed morning kisses under Apollon’s playful, morning rays, the hours spent in the comforting silence of each other’s presence, or the way his hand finds its way around my waist or on my thigh so stealthily that I only notice it when the familiar warmth seeps through my clothes and into my skin as if it is the very fuel my body runs on.

Lately, he’s been somewhat more distant than usual. I have not talked or heard from him outside our almost everyday classes with Julian for weeks. The other day I even dropped by his apartment only to be greeted by scattered advertisements, cut-out mail, papers with phone numbers, and announcements ripped out of newspapers all revolving around extravagant countryside houses with imposing, marble columns, vast fairytale-like green gardens, and enough rooms to fit a family of ten. I couldn’t figure out why Henry was looking into houses, but something must have happened otherwise he wouldn’t want to go so far away from Hampden, from Julian, from me.

I am wasting my time worrying about him when I should be writing my assignment. He is more than capable of taking care of himself and I trust that if the situation calls for it he will ask for my help. Just as I pick up my fountain pen to finally start the long-overdue translation of the first few books from the Aeneid I hear the sound of the key turning in my door’s lock. The only one with a copy of my dorm key is Henry. 

‘Where have you been?’ I inquire just as he graciously walks in as if he hasn’t been absent for the past days.

‘Get dressed.’ He orders with no care about what I’m doing whatsoever.

‘I’m working on my assignment.’ I point out sharply. ‘You cannot demand me to get dressed without telling me what you have planned.’

‘I assure you, you will not be displeased.’

Moments later, I’m sat in the passenger’s seat watching humans, shops, and houses blur into moving, indecipherable colours as Henry drives us out of Vermont towards Demeter’s neverending golden plains and dense forests. 

‘I consider it unfair when you use my curiosity against me.’ I sigh, rolling down the window to vent out the smoke from the cigarette I just lit. 

‘It is a great disadvantage which the comfort of love drags after itself.’ Henry half-smirks at me, his blue eyes behind the glasses abnormally warm.

‘And what may this terrible disadvantage be?’ I hold my cigarette to his lips and he takes a long drag from it before I bring it back to mine.

‘The mortifying ordeal of being known.’ The smoke escapes his lungs with every syllable he pronounces and I find it utterly entrancing.

.

.

.

.

.

Henry’s faint voice swirls in my mind, disturbing the unconscious state in which I am. Even in sleep, I can distinguish his precious voice from any other external sounds. He whispers my name and it hits my mind’s walls echoing until I wake up.

‘We have arrived.’ He announces with a slight smile and helps me step out of the car.

It takes me a moment to realise the massive manor towering over me with its aged stone walls covered in wicked ivy, large, arched windows with intricate tracery that allow glimpses into the stately interiors and prominent towers crowned with finials and spires piercing the limitless sky. Two watchful statues stand by the grand wooden doors as if anticipating our arrival. Suddenly, it all clicks together and I glare at Henry.

‘Is this why you’ve barely spoken to me in weeks?’ He was already retrieving his luggage along with another one he had packed for me using the various pieces of clothing I had left at his apartment throughout our relationship. ‘I can’t believe this..’ I shake my head and cross my arms, staring at the incredible purchase, knowing that it probably cost him a fortune. 

‘Let us enjoy this.’ He comes to stand by my side, suitcases in hand. ‘I have already spoken with Julian. I told him we would not be attending classes for a few weeks due to personal matters. Naturally, he wasn’t very pleased, but there is nothing he can do.’

‘Henry Marchbanks Winter skipping classes? I did not think I would live to see this day.’ It is nice to tease him once in a while.

‘I needed a break from society. Everyone does after a while and this place is perfect for such an occasion.’ For once, he looks relaxed and I decide to do as he wishes for the time being.

‘Why bring me here then? Wouldn’t it be better if you were to be alone here with your studies?’ 

Henry looks at me as if he has not been expecting the question and bursts into genuine laughter. ‘And leave my only piece of sanity in Vermont? That is something I couldn’t even dream of.’ He starts guiding me toward the entrance, his hand once again finding its rightful place on my waist.

[akutasoda]

hihi!! platonic blade with a chronically ill teen!reader?

before you're time

synopsis - when he meets a fellow hunter who has an unfortunate circumstance

includes - blade ft stellaron hunters

warnings - gn!teen!reader, reader has a unspecified chronic illness, slight angst, fluff, mentions of death, wc - 669

it didn't go unnoticed when a new stellaron hunter joined elio's script, mainly for two reasons: one, one or two of the current hunters often retrieved them and two, they weren't exactly a huge group. however, just because the new member wouldn't go unnoticed did it mean that they had to care about them. luckily, that really only applied to blade who couldn't care less who entered the script.

it was announced by kafka that she was collecting a new member on elio's behalf, the very same day she came back with you. the other hunters were alpt more welcoming compared to blade, although silver wolf and sam aren't the most excited people. kafka had told you straight that this 'elio' person saw you as a key role in fulfilling the script and you were needed among the stellaron hunters - but you disagreed heavily.

you tried explaining to the magenta haired woman that you simply would be no use to them and 'elio' must be wrong. 'miss i simply don't see how i would be of any use' you started but she quickly cut you off 'elio see's you as an important character, illness or not' you turned your head away slightly and let out a sigh 'i won't be of any use. how many people do you see jumping at the chance to offer me anything?' she responded quickly 'one. your illness doesn't matter to elio, he still knows you'll amount to something.'

maybe it was actually a reason to join the stellaron hunters, not every teenager would willingly join a group of criminals but maybe their leader had a point. your illness wasn't going away and you knew that, so maybe going along with the 'script' would mean your life could have some sort of worthwhile meaning and you wouldn't spend your days mulling over it. after all, having a chronic illness young often meant people didn't see you achieving much in your future.

blade knew that elio's script wouldn't care much for how old you were, so he didn't really think twice about you still being in your teens. he also knew that you would obviously play an important role in this script or else elio wouldn't have gone to the efforts of sending someone to recruit you but at the end of the day he wouldn't really care why you joined the stellaron hunters nor would he even give a moment of his time to think about it.

it meant nothing to him when he was assigned a mission with you and kafka gave him a strict warning to watch out for you - blade only assumed that it was to assure that someone as young as you didn't meet an early grave. however he did as he was told. the entire time he was on the mission with you he kept a close eye on you and he started thinking maybe this was kafka's way of subtly telling him something. blade noticed how you seemed off, not in a rude way but you didn't seem healthy.

when he returned from the mission with you he went straight to kafka for an explanation. that's when he learnt. to him it seemed quite cruel that elio's script required someone in your position but he already knew that life was unfair. in a way he could understand your situation, sure being mara struck wasn't a chronic illness but it did have no cure - it would eventually take full control of him and in that way he could see your own situation.

so maybe he'd look out for you more. maybe he'd take kafka's orders to make sure you're kept an eye on a bit more seriously. and maybe, just maybe he'd start looming over you ready to help you in any way he can - it's merely his duty to elio to ensure all the hunters can fufill their role and aren't taken before their time, don't think too much about it.

akutasoda's 1k event

[xxxninjaxxx23]

You brought the light I needed in my life

Part 1

Samantha Carpenter x GN Reader.

New York City has always been a bustling hotspot for restaurants, opportunities, and some “night activities.”

And yet Samantha Carpenter can’t shake this emptiness she feels everyday in her life.

(Sam’s Pov) It was a busy friday evening and I had just gotten off my shift at the diner. The Manager let me go home early with my regular pay as a reward for working hard.

Truth is. There’s a reason why I don’t take days off and constantly work.

I wrapped up my leftovers in a bag for dinner later and walk back to the apartment since the gym was closed today ‘that’s where I usually spend my time’.

New York being the big city it is, I had to bump through crowds, junkies and greeted some couples. When I got to my complex, some people were already shooting looks at me, one threw a paper ball at me.

‘Looks like our neighbors know I’m the daughter of a small town serial killer.’

After getting past the death glares, I enter my apartment and put my leftovers in the fridge. Then I pour a cup of whiskey, sitting down to collect my thoughts, not bothering to turn on the tv.

I hear the door open a half hour later “Sam! Im home” hearing that voice always brings a little smile to my face.

Tara sets her shopping bags down and sits on the couch next to me, turning on the tv. I felt a bit of joy knowing I’m giving Tara what she always wanted. A degree, a boyfriend, and freedom to live her life provided she be careful of the dangers.

I took a sip of my drink “So how was your date with Chad?”

Tara jumped in excitement “Amazing! We went to a nice restaurant that had an open mic. You should have seen Chad try to sing “All of me” he did it a little off key but reassured that it was a “song picked just for me.” Tomorrow we’re going to an arcade that just opened. Want to join us?”

I felt an ache in my chest and it wasn’t the whiskey “Thank you Tara….but I don’t want to impose. Especially since I’m letting you live your life freely.”

Damn. I didn’t do much to hid my emotions and Tara was quick to notice.

“Is everything ok?” She asked putting a hand on my shoulder. Normally, I hate being asked that but this is my sister ‘sigh’ “I guess….I guess I’m just lonely to tell you the truth.”

Tara was confused “Lonely? Aw don’t be silly, you have me and the twins.”

I sipped my drink once again “I mean you know….lonely.” Tara playfully slapped her forehead. “Ohhh I see. I mean, I can try to help you find a date.”

I smiled a bit. “That would be nice, I just hope I find one. It’s not that easy when you’re the daughter of the first Ghostface.” Tara nodded “If that worries you, I can take a break from Chad and spend some time with you.”

“But Tara, you love him.” My sister nodded “I do. But you’re my sister and I love you more. All you have to do is say the word.”

I sniffled heavily before wrapping my arms around Tara “Oof. How can a (Guy/Girl) not love a woman with big muscles?” I laughed a bit.

(1 month later)

(Tara’s pov) True to my word, I spent more time with Sam. Even though she assured me that it was ok with me bringing Chad to the apartment or going on dates with him.

Since Chad is still asleep from finishing that assignment, I’m eating breakfast with Mindy and Anika. They were surprised that I chose to eat at the place Sam works at.

“I think I know what i want.” I said as Mindy looked up from her menu “T. Did you choose this place because it’s that good?”

“Or did you want a free meal from your sister?” Anika finished, laughing.

I rolled my eyes “No….I’m going to pay for-“ I felt my pockets “Shit! I forgot my wallet!” Mindy shook her head “Didn’t you forget it the last time you went with my brother to that restaurant.”

I blushed from embarrassment “Y-yes but I gave him the money back when I got paid.”

Anika nodded “What you really need is one of those wallet chains so you never have to lose it again. Plus it would look hot on you.”

Mindy playfully smacked Anika’s arm as Sam came by to take our orders “Now, now. Don’t kill each other until AFTER you eat.” As we took our orders, I picked mine which was a bit pricey ‘Sorry Sam.’

“Umm big sis. You think you can spot me for this one?”

Sam rolled her eyes “Again? How many times do I have to tell you to stop forgetting your money?” I smiled playfully “Pleaseeee. I won’t forget next time and I will pay you back, I promise.”

(Sams pov) I shook my head, not wanting my sister to throw a tantrum or steal somebody else’s food “Fine. I’ll hold you to that.” I gathered up the menus and took the orders to the kitchen. After that, I decided to wipe down the counter since it was a slow morning.

I was finishing the display case until a new customer walked in. “Welcome to Crown Shy. Would you like

I looked up from the case and was at a loss for words when I set my eyes on the person that walked in.

(Sorry I had to. Lol)

Their (gothic/eccentric) attire was stunning enough to make a lot of heads turn. I shook my head, hiding my blush “ ‘Ahem’ Welcome to Crown Shy. Would you like a booth or a table?”

(He/She) requested a booth saying they have a friend meeting them here for a class assignment. My shoulders tensed as I dropped the menu on the floor, running to get new one “Sorry about that”

I took a quiet breath and awaited their order.

(Tara’s pov) Another waitress brought our food and we were in the middle of a feast until I spotted Sam making eyes at the new customer that just walked in. I tapped Mindy on the shoulder “Ooh! Direct hit Cupid.” Mindy whispered.

“I’ll say. I think this is the first time I’ve seen my sister as a drooling lovesick puppy.” I nearly laughed when she dropped the menu and went to snatch a new one off another table “Smooth move Casanova” Anika whispered.

After Sam took her potential lovers order and brought their food out, she stepped outside telling her boss she was taking her fifteen. “Looks like someone needs a little push Tar” Mindy said.

I nodded as I went outside to find Sam with a hand on her chest, trying to control her rapid breathing.

“Someone’s got a crushhhh. Someone’s got a crushhh” I said in a singing voice, handing Sam a water bottle from my bag.

Sam wasn’t amused and showed her blush “Look. Try to talk to them Sammy. This is your chance to finally get a (Boyfriend/Girlfriend)”

She took a sip from her water bottle “B-but what if they don’t like me? What if they find out who I really am and never talk to me again?” I gently squeezed her shoulder

“Sam, you won’t know if you don’t try. I’ll be right there to comfort you if anything happens. Just introduce yourself and ask if you can sit with them until their friend shows up, make some small talk my hot sis.”

(Sam’s pov) I shook my head, smiling “I’m not really that hot but I’ll still make small talk with them.” We both head back inside the diner, seeing that the new customer is already eating their food.

I check my watch “Ok still on my break, time to make my move” I whispered.

I walk over to their table “Hi. Um, do you mind if I sit with you? I’m currently on break and my coworkers are having a football debate back there.

The customer looked up and smiled “Sure. I could use the company, seeing my friend is running a bit late.”

I hid the excitement in my stomach and sat down. “I’m Y/N by the way Y/N L/N.” They said extending their hand “Samantha….Carpenter. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’ll say. It’s not often I see a pretty girl wanting to have lunch with me.”

I was flattered “So you think I’m pretty?” Now it was their turn to blush “Um s-sure? I mean I would really like to get to know you more.”

I felt my phone vibrate. I open it to see laughing emojis from Tara saying we are “Both hopeless with the small talk.” I shot a look at her, shaking my head.

I took a breath and engaged in a conversation like our favorite hobbies, movies, latest tv shows. I was amazed by how much we have in common unlike Ritchie who never liked almost all my hobbies. Sometimes I question why I got with him in the first place.

Anyways we talked a bit more along with me complementing their outfit, saying it “Makes them stand out and look more attractive.” I didn’t realize how long we were talking until I realized I was five minutes over my break.

I quickly jumped from the booth and back to my station in a flash but not before leaving my number on the receipt if they want to talk more.

(One shift later)

(Sam’s pov) This day was very slow and tiring. I was anxiously waiting for the time to fly by and luckily it did. But earlier, Tara didn’t help by eating loud and throwing trash on the floor. I swear my sister has the manners of a child. I rest my case when she let out a loud belch which ‘sigh’ everyone heard!

“Sorry! Excuse me!”

I cleaned the rest of the floors and whatever trash was on the tables as the last 30 mins approached. When it was time, I clocked out and said bye to my coworkers and boss.

Heading outside, I put my apron away and check my phone for any new messages. I got one from Tara who once again teased me that I was in a rush to see my new “lover.” I rolled my eyes and left that on read.

The next message was from….Oh Y/N and they asked if I wanted to watch a movie together. I responded back to it being a plan. We’ll watch a movie at my place and I’ll make the best dinner.

(Later)

(Tara’s pov) I sat on the couch waiting to go to the arcade. Chad really needs to stop staying up late and sleeping in late. It’s getting pretty hectic but I still end up dealing with it.

I check my phone “Hm, still got an hour left” I turn on the tv and snack on a few corn chips.

I got halfway through an episode of South Park until Sam came by with a hand vac, “Tara! I just cleaned here. Must you always be so messy.”

I scoffed “Looks like someone’s eager to keep the place clean for their new (Boyfriend/Girlfriend)”

Sam snatched the chips away from me “They’re not my lover. I just want spend time with a new friend, and that is making sure this place looks presentable.”

I nodded “Sure and I’ll be a millionaire one day. Look I get it. You want to make a first impression and that’s ok. No more lone wolf tonight Sam, it’s time for a new chapter, go get (him/her) tiger!”

(Sam’s pov) After cleaning Tara’s mess for the second time, I take a long needed shower and put on something simple. An hour later, the doorbell rings. “Y/N! Nice to see you again. It’s me uh Sam….from the diner” We both shared a hug before they went to the living room to pick out the movie.

Tara left for the arcade but not before ripping into me again “I swear you have no game sis. How did you even end up with Ritchie?” She whispered, laughing as she closed the door.

Damn it Tara! Why do you have to be such a gremlin? Though she’s not wrong, I really need to work on my pull game.

‘Just be yourself Sam, just be yourself.’

As I got the cooking utensils ready, I called from the kitchen island “So baby. Did you choose a good movie for us to watch?” I slapped my mouth

‘Of course! Leave it to Sam Carpenter to find a way to fuck a simple question up!’

Y/N smiled, laughing a bit “Hmm not yet. Maybe you should pick, baby.” They said, winking.

‘This is gonna be a long night…..good, I hope it never ends’

After Y/N selected the movie to watch, (he/she) joined me in the kitchen to help prepare the food.”

“Ok let’s make some of my famous pasta. Normally we charge $19.99 for this at the cafe.” Y/N was shocked “$20 for pasta?!” I nodded “It’s a family recipe, my um….father knew the right spices to use.”

Then we set the noodles and water to a boil. As it was cooking along with the sauce, we took the opportunity to take some silly pics together then post them. When the food was done, we set the plates and ate on the coffee table (Sam made sure it was clean after her sister put her bare feet on it recently. She really let Tara have it afterwards)

“I hope this isn’t a gory movie. I don’t want to lose my dinner.” Y/N shook their head “No this is more of an action movie. It’s called John wick.” I smiled “I don’t think I ever heard of that movie.”

A few hours into the movie, I was blown away by how ruthless this man was all over a car and…well I guess it makes sense with the dog.

(Y/N’s POV) After the movie was over and we cleaned up, I got my jacket and was about to head out seeing it was late. I said my byes but right as I was about to leave, I felt a hand on my arm “Stay with me….please?”

I smiled ‘How can I say no to that face?’ “Alright but um….I don’t have any sleepwear. I might have to sleep in my underwear if you don’t mind?”

I saw sweat pouring down from Sam’s forehead “N-No…I don’t mind at all.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead ‘probably shouldn’t have done that’ but she shrugged it off and led me to her room.

(Bedroom)

As Sam was in the bathroom, changing into her night clothes, I stripped down to my underwear. I put my clothes next to the bed on the floor. Few minutes later, Sam came back wearing said night clothes but she stood like a deer in headlights.

I was confused for a minute but then realized “Ah, you like what you see here? I said, showing off my body a bit.

Sam swallowed “Mmhm” was all she said before pulling me into bed with her.

Sam had a tv in her room so we watched a show just to fall asleep to but mostly talked a lot rather than watch the show or even drifting off to sleep.

I decide to try my luck “Snuggle me?” Sam was hesitant “Y-you want me to snuggle you?” That got me nervous, hoping I didn’t push things too quick besides the kiss of course. “Yes…but I understand if you don’t want to. I’m not here to make you uncomfortable.”

I felt some relief when she giggled “Come here.” She said extended her arms which I fell into perfectly. I felt butterflies in my stomach as she nestled next to me. “Sorry I was a little confused at first because no one I dated asked me to be the big spoon.”

I faced her a bit “Hm? Who wouldn’t want a woman with big biceps wrapped around them so safe?” Sam smiled “Probably because, they were jealous that I was more fit and muscular than them.”

I shook my head “I guess they forgot the definition of “Exercise” and “Workout” I said. “I do workouts myself but I been meaning to find a partner to go to the gym with.”

Sam rubbed my arms sounding a bit tired “I’d be happy to fill that role and go to the gym with you.”

I felt myself blush ‘Part of me really wants to kiss Sam for real this time but I don’t know if she wants a relationship now…or one with me. That might not be true, maybe just maybe I might have a chance at love again….I hope.’

I stayed awake for a bit hoping to ask Sam if she’s interested but I didn’t realize that sleep has taken her until I heard a snore from said girl. “Maybe tomorrow….yeah tomorrow’s ‘yawn’ a good day to tell her.” I felt my eyes get heavy, then fell asleep into Sam’s arms, holding me in place.

(Later on into the night when the pair were fully asleep, Tara came home and went to check on her sister. She had to stop herself from squealing at the sight that had emitted her eyes.

“This is definitely going on my page.” Tara said as she snapped a quick photo then left, closing the door.

“Goodnight Sam….Goodnight Y/N. I think you just brought the light my sister needed in her dull life.”

To be continued

Btw there’s the idea of the reader but the choice is still yours if these pictures don’t cut it

You got the gothic(eh maybe) or the elegant reader lol.

[siampie]

The Devil's Bargain || Chapter 2: A Brush with the Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Now working for Leblanc and Turpin, you have a close encounter with the Devil himself. 

Warnings/tags: None in particular. Angst mainly.  

A/N: Commentaries and reblogs are greatly appreciated.    

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

You lock your door behind you with a heavy sigh. Once again, you have damned yourself. Signing your soul away to your new bosses. Not that you really had a choice. Still, your life is theirs to do what they please. Miss Turpin has assured you that your duties will not change as a secretary; but you will have other assignments. As for the nature of those assignments, they have yet to be revealed to you.

You tuck your shoes in the closet by the entrance door, before making your way down the hallway to the living room. You drop your keys and handbag on the marble counter, walking up to the armchair by the window. You drop into it, pushing out another tired sigh. Pressure starts to build up behind your eyes. You are exhausted and upset. You sincerely thought and hoped that Fisk being thrown in jail would be the end of your own personal hell. You were wrong. This will never end.

Not for you anyway.

It is Friday night. You should be out in the town, drinking at a bar with friends. Having fun. Instead, you sit alone in your apartment. In the dark. You don’t have friends, not really. Working for Fisk didn’t really allow for any sort of lasting friendship. And you didn’t really think you should. Still don’t. Any relationship, regardless of their nature, is a liability. Something that could be used against you. And Fisk—and now Leblanc—didn’t need any more leverage against you. They already have your family.

Your siblings live out of state. As soon as they could, they left Hell’s Kitchen. Following job’s opportunity, looking for a better place to live and to raise their children. Moving somewhere they believed they have a better future. They left you behind to take care of your father. And once he passed, you were left to pay off his debts. Not that they knew about them. It was something you decided, against your better judgement, to keep from them. They have families, after all, they couldn’t afford to pay off your father’s debt. It was—is your burden to shoulder, as the oldest.

Although, this is the path you have chosen for yourself, you couldn’t help but feel resentment for your siblings. Resentment for leaving you behind in this hellish city. For leaving you in your tormentor’s clutches.

“What can you tell me about Madame Gao?” Octavia sits across from you, behind her desk.

“She only serves her own interests,” you answered. “As for what those interests are, I could not tell you.”

She leaned back into her chair, “what do you mean?”

“I mean she went as far as poisoning Vanessa Marianna. With the help of Leland Owsley,” you revealed to her. “She thought that Wilson Fisk’s attention was dispersed. So, she tried to get rid of the distractions.”

“Distraction being Vanessa,” you nodded at her words. Octavia leaned her elbows on her desk, clasping her hands in front of her. “I want you to arrange a meeting with Madame Gao. As soon as possible. Her support has been beneficial for our company, it would be a shame to lose it after such a tragic mistake.”

“Should I also hire an interpreter?” She gave you a confused look, “Madame Gao only speaks Mandarin.”

“She doesn’t speak English? At all?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you shook your head.

“Interesting,” she nodded, and remained quiet for a few seconds. Before looking at you again, “an interpreter won’t be necessary. Just let Marsh know to be there, once we have a date and time for the meeting.”

“Understood,” you jotted down on your notebook. You put down a file in front of Octavia, “those are the information you asked about the workers currently operating on the different construction sites. The union representatives agreed to meet up with Mr. Leblanc on one condition.”

“Let me guess, they want to choose when and where?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, tell them to choose the time and place and we’ll be there,” Octavia retorted.

Your meeting with Octavia lasted for another hour. Reviewing several employees’ files, Octavia has given herself the mission to know as much as she could about her new employees. And you answered all of her questions as sincerely as you could. During your meeting with her, you couldn’t help but compare her to Wesley. Octavia seems laser focus, often deep in thoughts, as though planning her next step. Wesley always seemed able to improvise on the spot as though he had planned for the inconveniences in advance. Always having a contingency plan up his sleeves. Anticipating Fisk’s needs. Octavia doesn’t seem to possess this skill. But then again, it might all be a façade. To fool you and the people who might underestimate her.

You close the door to her office on your way out. Letting out a deep sigh, you make your way back to your desk. Turning around the corner, you bump into a broad chest.

“Careful there, doll,” the broad chest chuckles, the hands attached to it grip your arms firmly. “You need to watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry, Mr. Marsh,” you apologize quickly, pulling out of his grip.

Finnegan Marsh has been assigned by Turpin to be your new supervisor. You work directly under him, now. You answer mostly to Octavia but some of your interaction has to go through Marsh from now on. You don’t really like Marsh. There is something about him that unsettles you. The way he calls you “Doll”, the way he sneers at you, the way he looks at you. Something that makes your skin crawl.

“No need to be so formal, doll.” He smirks at you, invading your personal space once more.

“Sorry,” you said again, casting your eyes on the floor. You refuse to call him by his first name. You will not give him the satisfaction. Only because, he wants to appear nice but you know better. He is not to be trusted.

“It’s alright,” he lets out a low laugh. “Is Octavia available?”

“Yes,” you nod. “In fact, she wants you to join her in her office.”

“Thank you,” your name rolls of his tongue easily, sending shivers down your spine. He walks past you, “oh, one more thing,” he turns around to you. “There are files on your desk that I need you to review for me. I know you are a very busy woman these days but I would appreciate if you could do this in a timely manner.”

You hold back a sigh before nodding, “of course, I’ll get it done as soon as I can.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

He wasn’t kidding when he said there were files on your desk. A large pile is sitting on your desk. You still have so much to do. Setting up the meeting with Madame Gao, talking to the Union representatives making sure they set a time and place for their meeting. And now this. You drop your forehead over your arms, defeated.

“Hey, Mouse, you’re okay?” you snap your head up to the blonde standing in front of your desk; Emilie Lawson.

Emilie Lawson works on the floor below yours, in the financial department. She was the first one who called you Mouse. You never really asked why but you were curious to know why. But never spoke the question out loud. The moniker has stuck since then, and used by many in the company.  

“Yes,” you smile at her, tightly. “What can I do for you?”

She drops another file on your desk, “Miss Turpin asked to see last year budget. Is she available right now?”

“No, she’s discussing with Marsh, right now.” You shook your head in the negative. “You’re free to wait for her, though.”

“So, you’ve spoken to them both,” she starts, you look up at her quizzically. “Leblanc and Turpin? What do you think?”

“What do you mean?” you stammer out.

“I mean, do you think we can trust them? Like are they going to fire people or keep us all?”

“They seem to want to keep—every one of us. They’re taking their marks. Showing they’re the new bosses.” You finish with a shrug.  “I don’t think there’s much to worry about.”

“But there’s still something to worry about?”

You want to tell her that there’s still so much to worry about. Leblanc and Turpin are only taking over for Fisk while he is in jail. And yes, Leblanc is the new CEO, and officially Turpin was his assistant CEO but—Fisk still holds the reign, he is still the one in control.

“No, nothing to worry about.” You reassure her, lying through your teeth. “It’s just a transition of power; it takes a lot of time and work. And diplomacy.”

She lets out a small sigh of relief, “good to hear. Most of us can’t afford to lose this job.”

“I know,” you nod, opening your mail box. “They want to keep things as they are. I mean there will be a few changes but—no layoffs.”

You aren’t sure of that. It is something you tell her to reassure her, but you aren’t sure they won’t fire people. They didn’t tell you their plans for the company. Why would they? You are just a secretary. They don’t owe you any explanation. They don’t need to share with you what comes next for North Star Holding. But so far, you didn’t see any indication that there would be layoffs in the future. Leblanc seemed to be willing to keep all the workers while also adding his own men to the company. Such as Finnegan Marsh.

It was clear to you that he was Leblanc’s choice. Not Turpin’s. Just as you, you noted, Octavia did not really like to be in his presence. She loathes him. Very deeply.

By mid-afternoon, you have talked to union representatives, answered many emails, reviewed last year budget with Octavia and Emilie, and the pile on your desk just keeps growing. As a matter of fact, Marsh is taking pleasure in adding to your workload. You know you will get to it, later. Still, it is depressing to know that you still have so much to do, and your day is almost coming to an end.

With a heavy sigh, you knock on the heavy metal doors. Before your day is truly over, you still have one matter to deal with: Madame Gao. Octavia wants a meeting set with her as soon as possible. So, there you are, about to go into a meeting with the woman herself. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest, you can feel it in your throat. In all the years you’ve worked with Fisk, Madame Gao has never appeared to be cruel. Still, you are not fool enough to believe her to be an innocent old woman. After all, she has been dealing cocaine for years, unchallenged. She might not be cruel but she is still dangerous. And she did have a hand in attempting to Vanessa’s life.

A large Chinese man opens the door, without a word. He steps to the side, letting you in. A young woman is waiting for you, she bows slightly to you and, without a word, turns around and walks towards a flight of stairs at the far back of the building. You follow her. She leads you down the stairs to a small room. She opens the door and bows again, but not stepping inside. You walk in the room. Madame Gao is sitting behind a desk, painting on a small canvas.

She says your name softly, putting down her brush. She slowly turns to you.

“I was wondering when they would send you to me,” she says smiling. “Tea?” She offers while pouring a cup for herself.

“Thank you,” you accept the offer and she pours you a cup. “North Star Holding—or rather Mr. Leblanc and Miss Turpin believe your collaboration would be beneficial to the company.”

“I am sure they do,” she nods. “But what do you think?”

Her question gives you pause—surprises you. Why would your opinion matter? You take a sip, giving yourself time to form a proper answer. Madame Gao waits for your reply, patiently.

“My opinion doesn’t really matter. You are free to do as you please, I am only here to ask you to agree to at least—one meeting with the CEO of North Star Holding. What you do after the meeting is up to you.”

“This is very diplomatic of you,” she chuckles. “But this wasn’t quite the answer I was expecting.”

“And what answer would that be?”

“Something more—honest,” she put down her cup. “Especially coming from you.”

“You don’t know me,” you answer before you could stop yourself. Irritated by her tone, as though she has always known the kind of woman you were. When—you are still figuring it out yourself.

“Oh, I do. I know you, better than you do yourself.” Madame Gao smirks. “The ever-obedient secretary. Loyal, quiet, observant and adaptable. You are a survivor. A woman who was able to gain Wilson Fisk’s trust which is, I found, very difficult to do.”

“As I said before my opinion doesn’t really matter,” you retort. “Not to them, anyway. But they’re willing to work with you which I know—is not one of Wilson Fisk’s choices. Not after what happened to Vanessa.” You remind her. “Still, you should be made aware that even though you will be dealing exclusively with Miss Turpin—and on occasions with Mr. Leblanc, Wilson Fisk is still very much the man at the head of North Star Holding.”

Madame Gao nods at your words, with a mischievous smile on her face. “I would be a fool to believe otherwise, my dear.” She stands up and walks around the desk, towards you. “Here are my terms for the meeting with Miss Turpin.”

After Madame Gao gave you her terms for the meeting, she called for her people to lead you back outside.

“One more thing,” you say as you walk out. “They are under the impression that you do not speak English. There will be an interpreter during the meeting, one of Harry Leblanc’s trusted man. I don’t know if Octavia herself speaks Mandarin. I doubt it but I would remain careful if I were you.”

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?”

“It would have been foolish of me to do so.”

Power. This was the only reason you could think of. The reason why you lied about Madame Gao speaking only Mandarin. Power. And maybe control. You had none over your own life. None over your own career. You wanted to claim some of it back.

You still do.

Lying to Octavia will not lead to anything good. It will only mildly inconvenience her. If at all. You just want some of control back. That’s all.

The pile on your desk has shrunk slightly. But there is still much left to do. You are convinced that by tomorrow, the pile will have grown again. You still don’t understand why he tasked you with reviewing all the files. Some of them didn’t even need to be gone over. It was all a waste of time. But as usual, you take it on the chin because you don’t have a choice. This is your life. You didn’t choose it but you still have to live it.

***

Her mango and vanilla perfume is heavy in her car. Not unpleasant nor unbearable. The underground parking lot is mostly empty. Except for the armed security guards that are making regular rounds. Her heartbeat is strong—slightly fast due to her walking to her car. He hears the tired sigh she lets out as she approaches. He hides behind the driver’s car seat. Not that it matters. She isn’t paying much attention to her surroundings.

Careless.

The rope is around her throat before she becomes aware of his being in her car. “Turn it off,” his gravelly voice whispers in her ear.

“What?” She croaks out, confused.

“The light—turn it off.”

***

You obey to his order, and switch off the light over your head. In your rearview mirror, you see him. Black mask over his face, only the bottom half of it is visible. The rope around your throat is loose. For now.

“I am going to ask you a few questions. And I want you to answer truthfully,” he warns you, in a low voice. “I will know if you lie, understood?” You look at him through your rearview mirror. The rope suddenly tightens around your throat, “understood?”

“Yes—yes, I understand.” The words rush out of your mouth, your hands fly to your throat attempting to loosen up the rope.

The rope comes loose, you take a deep breath. “Who took over for Fisk?”

“I don’t know,” you answer immediately.

You see his head tilt to the side, as dogs do sometimes when they hear something you can’t. The rope around your throat tightens again. More than before cutting off your airways.

“I warned you,” he says, his breath fanning over your right ear. “I’ll ask again, who took over for Fisk?”

Your heart is pounding under your ribcage. You don’t want to die, in this parking lot, being loyal to people who don’t deserve it. You also don’t want to answer his question, that would put your life in danger if they find out you are the one who talked to the Devil. Because they will find out. And you can’t risk it.

You make a split-second decision, your left hand reach for the seat handle.

Something shifts in her heartbeat—in her tone.

“I swear—I don’t know,” you say again, the rope is still tight around your throat. “They don’t—tell us—anything.”

She sounds scared but something is off. The smell of fear is still pungent, and yet—“you’re lying,” he growls in frustration.

You lift the handle, and the seat reclines, bumping into the Devil. The rope around your throat comes off, freeing you from his hold. You push open your door, rush out.

She has taken him by surprise. Now, she is out, calling for help.

Resourceful.

He jumps out of the car. Fleeing the parking lot while she runs into one of the guards. He will have to find another way to get his answers.

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[blasphemous-lies-and-deceit]

67: tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin

With GerryMichael because as a fellow tall people I know Michael's hands are unbearably cold from lack of circulation but his face is easy to go red 🥰

Tall people with bad circulation 🤝 office workers working in cold offices

Michael wondered if Gertrude would let him help her kill Elias.

It was only a matter of time. He'd had his eyes wrenched open, no longer blind to reality. He knew who they were working for, and while he didn't necessarily like it, he knew Gertrude hated it. She was not quiet about her criticism, and while he was glad she wasn't keeping him in the dark anymore, it was still quite a thing to listen to his boss openly plot murder.

He didn't care if Elias was dead at her hands- really, the Head of the Institute was just as guilty as the others, and worse. What Michael did resent was the relentless busy work that he was being assigned, probably to keep them busy so they couldn't plot their boss's demise. The amount of incoming statements was so relentless, they nearly didn't have room to put them all. Gertrude was busy with her own plots, so she was no help, of course. And Elias's ever-so-helpful suggestion of "digitizing" the hand-written statements just meant more work for him.

Michael groaned as he flexed his fingers against the keyboard. He was a fast typer, but the statements were usually rambling, and the handwriting nearly illegible. The Eye helped a bit, but that left him with an awful headache at the end of the day, and exhausted beyond belief. He was even beginning to have dreams about the statements, which was incredibly annoying since he couldn't even have a break in his sleep.

The most current annoyance to him, however, were his fingers. He felt like he couldn't warm them up, they were like stiff icicles against the keys, and blowing on them or tucking them against his chest made no difference. Fingerless gloves might help, but he didn't have a pair on hand, and he'd been too tired to knit recently, so he couldn't whip up a pair either. It wasn't enough to slow him down, but it did make his mood worse, and he was more than ready for a break.

"Gerry," Michael sighed, leaning back limply in his chair to watch his boyfriend descend the stairs with a bag of takeout. "My love, the light of my life, the greatest joy, my absolute treasure-"

"That bad, huh?" Gerry grimaced, crossing the distance between them to drop a kiss on top of his head. Michael just groaned, long and whale-like, and spun his chair around so he could bury his face in Gerry's chest. "I'm sorry, love."

"It's awful," Michael moaned, slinging his arms around Gerry's waist. "It's like they don't realize someone's going to actually read what they've written. They don't even try to make it legible."

"Ugh." Gerry leaned over him to peer at the papers next to his computer. "Their handwriting is worse than mine."

"And it's so pointless! It's just busy work." Michael leaned back so he could see Gerry's face. "Next thing you know, that bastard'll have me recording them or something."

"I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job regardless," Gerry assured him, staring down at him with a terribly fond expression. He raised his hands to cup the back of his head, gently rubbing the tension away. "You're too damn good for this place."

"Flatterer," Michael rebutted, helplessly charmed. Gerry just smiled and bent down to kiss him, so soft but full of meaning. Michael kissed him back, feeling all of the tension drain right out of him, leaving him soothed and relaxed. It meant everything to him to have Gerry by his side, sympathetic and caring and exactly what he needed the most. As if Michael couldn't possibly be more in love with him.

And to show his appreciation, he rucked up the back of Gerry's shirt and plastered his hands to the small of his back.

Gerry yelped and jumped away, gaping at Michael incredulously as he fell into giggles. "What the hell?" he gasped, sounding aghast and offended. "Why are your fingers so cold?"

"Because its cold down here!" Michael pointed out. "And my jumper doesn't cover my hands." He wiggled his fingers to prove his point, and Gerry rolled his eyes, coming back to take his hands in his.

"Poor guy," he commiserated, rubbing his hands and bending to breathe warm air over them. "I have some fingerless gloves back ho- back at Pinhole, I'll run over and grab them for you."

"Thank you," Michael murmured, touched that Gerry would step foot back in that place for him. Over the past few months they had been removing Gerry's clothes and personal items and relocating them to his flat, slowly moving him in where he belonged. Michael couldn't help but feel a deep stir of pleasure at the thought, of getting Gerry away from that awful place for good. It's what he deserved.

Gerry knelt next to him, tucking his cold hands under his chin as he smiled at Michael, happy and content. "Can you take a break for lunch? Get out of this basement for a bit?"

"Of course." Without looking, Michael put his computer into sleep mode and guided Gerry back to his feet, pulling him in for a hug. This time, when he cold hands wandered under Gerry's shirt, he didn't pull away.

[d0rianw1lde]

Okay so like maybe hear me out:

Keys and Eric????

HEAR ME OUT—

Hearing and listening >:))

—

“You know I don’t do well at this game-“

“You don’t have to do well, you just have to- come on, test it out.”

Eric sighs softly as Keys grabs his hand, pulling him up from his mountain of assignments, sending a few of his papers slipping onto the floor. “I- hey, that’s a bit important-“

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” Keys replies, taking him to the desk in the main area, littered with monitors, cords, and various other pieces of technology that Keys had explained to him a few times before that only managed to scramble the already overfilled brain in Eric’s skull. Keys sits Eric down in the plush gaming chair in front of the biggest monitor, reaching over to snag a pair of large, cushioned headphones from their holder and slip it over Eric’s curls. Eric chuckles softly and adjusts them as Keys leans over him, clicking a few icons and starting up the game.

“What was it that you were working on again?”

“A new subsection of the city- new characters, new challenges, cool shit like that,” Keys replies, and Eric nods, acting as though any of it made sense to him. Keys steps back, and watches as Eric places his hand on the mouse, squinting against the bright lights of the game and beginning his exploration. He’s clunky- Eric wonders if Keys ever found it frustrating- but he directs his character through the new part of the game without much trouble. Until he pauses, his eyes darting toward one of the new landmarks Keys had created.

“..Eric’s Parlor?” Eric looks up at Keys, cocking an eyebrow.

Keys bites back a grin, and nods toward the monitor. Eric turns back to the screen and goes in. He stares for a moment, eyes locked in on the scene in front of him. His lips pull back into a wide smile- he can feel his eyes prickle with the threat of oncoming tears. Playing cards, a dove in a small cage. A large hat sits upside down atop the counter, a pair of rabbit’s ears peeking out from it in a loop of animation every so often. “It’s..”

A magic shop. Eric can’t help but let out a little laugh as he approaches the character stood behind the counter, a small ‘TALK’ icon hovering over his head. He looks over it for a while, eyes flickering in recognition. The character’s idle animation kicks into gear- he pulls a small deck of cards from his pocket, and fans it out in front of him. It glitches- and he returns to standing still behind the counter, eliciting a soft sigh from Keys.

“It’s uhm- It’s got a few bugs, I think, with the animation but-“

“You gave me a magic shop?” Eric asks, sliding the headphones off of himself and turning to face Keys. Keys smiles nervously, eyes flitting from the screen to Eric to try to gage his reaction.

“I mean- you mentioned that before you went to school for..law..”

“That I wanted to be a magician..” Eric finishes, unable to look away from the screen. Keys slips his glasses off, nervously fidgeting with them as Eric stares at the game.

“It’s- it’s not finished. There’s a lot to do. You’re basically like- an item shop, you know? People can come in, purchase a couple buffs, maybe- some skins. I was thinking of even like- putting in a game or something so people can earn a few experience points and-“

“Walter,” Eric says, snapping Keys out from his nervous ramble.

“Yeah?”

Eric stands, wrapping Keys up in a tight hug and resting his head on his shoulder. Keys relaxes, shoulders dropping as he slips his arms around Eric’s waist, hugging him close.

“It’s perfect.” Eric says quietly. “I never thought I’d actually…be a magician.” He can’t help but chuckle at the statement. But Keys doesn’t laugh- doesn’t ridicule, or dismiss the real weight of what Eric was truly saying.

“Well,” Keys says quietly. “Rest assured, while you’re up here doing your lawyer stuff..” Eric rolls his eyes playfully, pulling away to look at Keys, who slips his glasses back on and searches Eric’s eyes.

“You’ll be the greatest Magician Life Itself has ever seen.”

—-

Do you want a ficlet? More info here! :OO https://www.tumblr.com/d0rianw1lde/771960413265051648/hey-you-yeah-you-do-you-want-a-ficlet-of-any

[causenessus]

Late Nights. | Nakahara Chuuya

nakahara chuuya x reader

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: work song by hozier

word count: 734 words

not important whatsoever but this story's header took way too long,,, also the ending ?? a little deep

Chuuya worked ungodly hours. They were never consistent and his assignments in general were unpredictable. Even if he got a job done at a decent time, oftentimes they were hours away from home. 

But he never worried about missing you; about coming home to you sleeping in bed just as he had left you in the morning, when it was too early for you to be awake.

Most nights, you got off work at around nine and arrived home at 10, but you never headed straight to bed no matter how late it was.

He’d assured you multiple times that you didn’t have to stay up waiting for him and that he wanted you to sleep. He loved getting to see you when he returned home but he cared more about your health than anything else.

But you’d only shaken her head, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his lips before you said, “I’ve always done this. Getting to see you if I stay up is just another bonus, and I would never miss it for the world.”

He still disagreed with your tendencies to stay up late but he had to admit that he looked forward to it.

No matter how pissed off he was about a job, whether that be from how long it had taken, what it had entailed, or how far away it was, he could never stay angry for long, knowing he’d get to see his angel. 

This particular night, he was grumbling as he sped home. It was already midnight, hours past when his job was supposed to end. A part of him was worried you had already gone to sleep. Your work had been especially busy this past week, it was getting late, and he still wasn’t home. Selfishly, he hoped that you were still awake but he hadn’t texted you. He didn’t want you to stay up just because he would be home soon if you were headed to bed.

He was almost there. He told himself the whole way home. Almost there. Almost to you.

As soon as he was off his motorcycle, he was pacing towards your shared apartment, hands shaking as he fumbled with his keys. He tried to keep quiet but he couldn’t contain himself as he cracked open the door, seeing that lights were still on and a savory smell was coming from the kitchen.

He couldn’t help but break into a smile as he kicked off his shoes. He had been worried about nothing; here you were cooking at midnight.

You looked perfect, face still set with makeup but your hair pulled back and headphones covering your ears. You must have just gotten home too, and you hadn’t realized he was home yet, you were still in your own little world. 

You were swaying gently to whatever you were listening to, a spatula in one raised arm when he came behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. 

You gasped in surprise immediately, your free hand quickly moving to touch and hold onto one of his hands clasped around you, “You’re back!”

“I missed you, Doll,” he mumbled, chin still against your shoulder as he savored the moment. These late-night moments when barely anyone else was awake, and even fewer were slowly dancing with a lover cooking something in the middle of the night. “I was worried you’d already gone to sleep. It’s late.”

He heard you place down your spatula before turning in his arms so that you were facing him, your face inches away from his own. You wrapped your own arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him closer to you before nuzzling your nose against his. “Chuuya, you could come home at 2 in the morning and I’d still be up waiting for you. I love you too much to pass up on an opportunity to see you.”

This was all he needed.

Someone who may have been tired, yet still showed up for him every day.

And he would do the same for you no matter what. Nothing could keep him from you. He would ravage the entire Earth to return home to you if he had to. 

“I missed you,” he repeated, bumping noses with you.

“Oh, Love,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling away, “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

[mavrintarou]

[4:03PM] Geto Suguru

First Geto Suguro - if you haven't seen the newest season of JJK - he is one hot tamale.

Warning: explicit smut; Y/n has... an interesting curse technique; angst - spoiler . Y/n was always cast aside as her curse energy was little to none and everyone found her useless. She was merely kept in their midst solely due to being the last surviving member of her bloodline.

To her delight, she preferred that they ignored and excluded her, she cherished the moments when everyone left her undisturbed. Nothing appealed to her more than being left alone, engrossed in her books, with no interruption.

However, the higher-up was determined to maintain their control over Y/n, they were patiently anticipating the manifestation of her curse energy and technique.

“Her bloodline ends with her… surely Y/n will manifest the greatest curse technique when the time comes.”

. .

Y/n entered her apartment and hooked her keys on the rack. Under her breath, she barely murmured, “Yami yori idete yami yori kuroku, sono kegare o misogiharae.” An invisible shield immediately locks down the perimeter of her apartment.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she muttered out loud. She hung her jacket in the closet when she finally saw him emerge from the dark corner.

Geto Suguru.

She has been informed of his heinous crimes, and the substantial bounty placed on his head if he was ever sighted.

Cherry Blossom, emerged out from the wall to her left, whimpering, “he is too strong master…”

Y/n lift her hand, patting the cursed spirit on the head, “he is an old friend, sorry, I hope he did not hurt you or the others?”

Cherry Blossom whimper, “he ate Smelly…”

Y/n cast a glare at Suguru, “really?”

Suguru threw his hands up in defense, “my bad, I didn’t know he was one of your curses.”

“Guardians! We are her guardians!” Cherry Blossom shouted, before cowering and apologizing to her master for her sudden outburst.

“It is okay, Cherry. You may go back, I’ll handle him.” Y/n assured with a smile.

The blue-gray curse disappears into the wall, entrusting her master. Y/n can feel her other curse spirit friends retrieving as well.

Once they were out of her sight and presence, she cast another veil, not only for privacy but to protect any potential lurking eyes and ears that might be following Geto.

The first time Geto witnessed Y/n’s curse technique, he was dumbfounded. The shy and meek petite girl fooled everyone behind her thick-rimmed glasses and books.

Geto was assigned to a mission alone to hunt down an unknown grade curse spirit that has been spotted at one of Shibuya’s hottest nightclubs. He walked down the corridors to the private room in the VIP area. As he neared, he opened the room and found a couple inside.

It took a second for him to realize what was going on. They were fucking. The man had the woman against the wall, thrusting hard that the room echoed with nothing but her moans and skin slapping skin. Her moans could be heard even with the loud music echoing in the background.

They didn’t seem to acknowledge him or sense his presence.

It was him, Geto thought to himself, the cursed spirit. When he got the mission and read the case file that numerous women have disappeared without a trace. Now it made sense, it was a sex-cursed spirit behind the missing women case.

Geto released a weary sigh, unfastening his sleeve cuffs and rolling them up. He couldn’t help but groan inwardly, feeling the discomfort of interrupting such an intimate moment. However, just as he was about to speak, his gaze connected with the woman, who met his eyes head-on.

His eyes narrowed in confusion but quickly widened with disbelief as he recognized her before him. He couldn’t believe his own eyes at the unexpected revelation.

Y/n’s head tilted back against the wall, her mouth echoing soft moans and she pressed a finger to lips, silently gesturing him to remain quiet and standby.

Suguru blinked repeatedly, making certain he wasn’t caught in a hallucination. Yet, every time he opened his eyes, there she was: Y/l/n Y/n, the last person he least expected to encounter.

He felt his cock jolt when she smirked at him. He watched her legs wrap around the man’s waist, tightening her arms around his shoulders and whimpering loudly, “cum, cum inside me… give me your cum.”

Suguru had to look away, feeling his cheeks flushed. He was getting turned on by the second. He didn’t need to see the rest of it, he heard the man finish, groaning and Y/n crying in bliss.

Seconds later, he heard a thump on the floor. His eyes bulge out watching the man disintegrate into the air.

“What… the fuck?” His eyes couldn’t leave Y/n’s naked body as she slipped her tight dress back on. “Care to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

She tidied herself up before responding. “I took down a cursed spirit, no big deal,” Y/n said casually, walking up to him as if a few seconds ago, she had not just taken an unknown cursed spirit down by draining their cum dry.

“Wh – what?” he stuttered, caught off guard. Her small hand pressed against the pecs of his chest and they slide down to his abdomen. “Y/n…” her name came out like a choke more than a warning.

“Want to find out?” She looked up at him with eyes that made his knees weak.

“A – about what?”

“My curse technique?”

“H – how?”

“I’ll show you,” she whispered, and his eyes screamed yes.

She pushed him onto the couch and straddle his lap, her lips pressed against him while her hands worked at the belt buckle.

“Y/n,” Suguru breathed when she broke off the kiss and scoot off his lap, she tugged his briefs freeing his cock that was hard and aching. Before he could utter a word, her mouth was already wrapped around the tip. “Fuck…” he groaned, head tilting back against the couch. His eyes struggle to stay open as her head bobbed on his lap, he felt himself melting into a puddle before her touch.

That’s when he realized… she was feasting off his curse energy.

He did nothing to stop her.

Her mouth releases his cock with a pop and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Y/n repositioned herself on his lap, pulling her panties to the side and rubbing herself against the tip of his cock.

“Y/n,” Suguru murmured, a hand trailing up her waist to her chest. He felt himself draining by the second but he wanted to remember this moment, wanted to hang long enough to feel her pussy wrap around his cock. “Please…” His hooded eyes only followed her as she leaned closer until their lips barely touched.

Suguru quickly leaned up to kiss her, but was a second too slow as Y/n backed away with a playful smile on her lips before he could kiss her. With the last ounce of strength he had, one hand gripped her upper arm and the other snaked behind her neck, pulling her down to kiss him.

Y/n moaned into his mouth and dropped her weight, taking in his cock until he was fully sheath inside of her.

Instantly, Suguru felt a surge of energy through his body. His grip tighten around her arm and tighten the root of her hair, as he tugged her head back, breaking their kiss, his lips trail down her jaw and neck.

“Su… garu…” Y/n moaned, rocking her hips.

His grip loosened, and he leaned back and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes are a vibrant emerald green, a color he was sure was not her natural color.

As if he was silently evaluating her, Y/n answered him.

She began rolling her hips, gradually increasing her speed.  

Suguru’s hand move to grip her hips, guiding her to bounce on his cock, his hips were meeting hers, thrusting deep and harder. Her cursed energy surged into him, kindling a blazing power within his very being.

He craved more and more.

Y/n gasped, being flipped onto her back with Suguru peering down at her. He widened her legs and continue to thrust.

He cursed, “you feel so… fucken tight… so good…” he felt his sack pulsing, ready to cum inside her.

“Cum inside me,” Y/n begged, affectionately touching his face.

As if her words were laced with magic, Suguru came hard, his hips struggling to stop even as he shot his cum deep into her womb. He couldn’t stop, wanting to continue to feel his cock stretch out her tight pussy. Her walls flutter and squeezed against his cock, milking every last drop out of him.

Suguru finally halt his movement, breathing hard and staring darkly into her eyes. He understood her cursed technique now.

Y/n possessed the ability to not only absorb cursed energy but also enhance it, amplify one’s cursed energy through sexual intimacy.

She fueled most of her cursed energy by hunting down semi-grade 1 or higher cursed spirits. She will seduce and have sex with them, absorbing their energy through their orgasm. She had the ability to manipulate and control cursed spirits much like Suguru, the only difference is she has cursed spirits submitting at her beck and call – wanting and willing to be her servant for a bit of her energy through any sort of physical intimate gesture whether it be through a simple pat on the head or a simple caress. She receives most of her cursed energy through sexual intimacy.

Suguru has never experienced such a potent surge of energy coursing through his veins; it felt as though every fiber of his being was fully charged.

Since then, he would come to her, seeking physical intimacy from her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Y/n said a second time, standing six feet away from him.

The wanted man stepped forward but was hit with an invisible force shield. That was another one of her specialties, she had the ability to create an invisible force shield as wide and far as sixty-five kilometers.

“Don’t be like that,” Suguru pleaded, pressing his large hands against her shield. “I need you… you’re all I have.”

“You should have thought about that before you became a wanted man.”

“I just want to be wanted by you.”

Y/n won’t deny the sexual connection she has with Suguru. It was a win-win relationship. His technique allowed her to feast and fuel on the cursed spirits he orally ingests, just as she can amplify his cursed energy through sex.

She draw back her shield and Sugar stepped forward into her safe zone. He cupped her face, while his other hand wrapped tightly around her waist. “Come with me, follow me.” His mouth hovers over hers, waiting for her reply. “Together, we can create a world… a new world…”

Y/n shook her head, “leave me out of it, ‘Guru.”

He loved the nickname she gave him, it already made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Fair enough,” he suspected her answer and respected it. Suguru does not know what the future holds and truthfully, he didn’t want her to be entangled in his plans, but he couldn’t completely let her go either. He had recently come to realize that his feelings for her went beyond using her as a mere vessel to fuel his cursed energy. Although she never voiced it, her actions demonstrated a genuine concern and care for him. “But don’t abandon me, please.”

She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

His lips kissed hers softly until she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Suguru easily lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to her room and gently placed her on her bed.

Their clothes scattered all over in seconds as he pressed the tip of his cock to her pussy, impaling her slowly.

Neither of them spoke, silence enveloped them both, as neither had the desire to broach the truth of how this encounter could potentially be their final meeting.  

It suddenly made perfect sense to her why he had been usually gentle towards her lately, treating her as delicately as if she was a fragile flower. He held her tenderly with the hands that had killed hundreds.

“Suguru,” Y/n moaned, pressing his forehead against hers, I love you.

“Y/n,” he called her name with the same gentleness, he thrust deeply, groaning against her mouth, I love you too.

He made love to her repeatedly until the morning. She lay in his arms, pressing a kiss to his heart.

Hours later when she woke up, he was gone.

Months later, tears spill from her eyes as Gojo Satoru stood before her. In Gojo’s palms were Suguru’s black circle earrings.

Her hands trembled as she took them from his palm, her fingers closing around them.

Her other arm encircled her bulging belly, providing a secure embrace for their unborn child that nestled within.

. . .

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"I'VE HAD THOUGHTS ABOUT YOU"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH MARK

I hope you like it! 😌☝💚

(I need him so bad)

Mark knew the job was mysterious and important, and that they shouldn't ask questions about it, just do the task assigned to them.

In his case, it was to refine the numbers that appeared on his computer screen.

He sat down in his place and, like every day, turned on the light with his name and face on it, indicating that he was already working and that the day had begun for him.

Despite having been at Lumon for two years, Mark still had questions about his outie and the outside world, questions he didn't dare share with anyone else for fear of being sent to the break room.

I mean, he'd been there a couple of times already due to circumstances beyond his control, and he didn't want to repeat the experience unless it was absolutely necessary.

Once again, he wondered what his outie was like. Did he have a supportive family? A wife, perhaps? Children? He'd never know, and it ate at him inside

Your desk is directly across from his, and despite the partition raised to preserve privacy between the two cubicles, you can see the tense expression on the head of big data's face as he leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes tiredly.

You can't help but notice his long fingers when he does this.

You swallow hard and look away, afraid he'll catch you looking at him in ways you shouldn't be looking at your department head.

Then, as if he'd heard your thoughts, he looked up at you.

He gave a small, friendly smile as you pressed a key on the keypad to send several numbers to one of the boxes displayed on the screen.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You seem a little… lost," he commented. "Is it the numbers?"

"It's always the numbers," you replied. "Sometimes they make me feel a little… overwhelmed, if that makes any sense."

"It does," he assured you. "We all do, it's part of the job."

"Sure," you nodded, giving a shy smile

Mark watched you closely for a few moments, waiting for you to continue, and when you didn't, he decided to.

"You know you don't have to keep everything to yourself, right?" he whispered worriedly.

"I know," you smiled. "Thanks for being there for me, Mark."

He hummed a small nod in response as he gently rested his gaze on you.

"Of course," he murmured.

You stood up to stretch your legs a little and leaned gently against the side of his desk. His eyes followed your every movement intently.

"How are you today?" "He asked suddenly. You know I have to ask the routine question."

"Yeah," you nodded, remembering. "I'm fine, I guess. And you?"

"Not so fine, actually," he blurted out ruefully. "I'm stuck in this job with you for the rest of my life with no way out." He shrugged. "So…"

"At least we're locked away together," you added. "It could be worse, don't you think?"

"Sure, but that's not what I meant," he explained. "The point is…" He tilted his head, as if he was wondering whether he should say what he was going to say next or not. "Don't you want to know more about your outie?"

"Of course I do," you replied, making his eyes widen, surprised that you agreed with him.

"And what's stopping you?" " he asked, and you snorted before pointing out the obvious.

"Mr. Milchick, Cobel… you know," you explained, "they're watching us all the time, it's impossible to investigate like this," you murmured. "Besides, I'm afraid they'll catch us and shut us down like machines."

Mark considered your words, clearly understanding your point of view.

He sighed softly before gently placing his hand on your knee in a supportive gesture.

"You can't let that control your life," he whispered. "We all deserve to know who we are up there."

"You're right," you murmured, trying not to focus on how good his touch felt on you.

"I know I am," he whispered back.

The corner of his lips lifted slightly before he looked down, where his thumb was brushing over your knee, rubbing gentle circles on it, making you both relaxed and nervous in equal measure.

He was silent for a few moments, his thumb still brushing against yours, before looking up at you again.

"Can I ask you something?" he whispered. You nodded faster than you'd intended.

"Sure, anything," you assured.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he began. "What do you think your outie is like?"

You thought about it for a few moments before answering. It was a very good question, one you'd never thought of the answer to, since you thought no one would ever ask you that.

"I don't think she's anything like me," you said. He frowned curiously.

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't know," you admitted. "I have a hunch."

"A hunch?" he inquired, intrigued. "What kind of hunch?"

"I think she has a good life," you explained. "And part of me wants her to live it, but the other part wants her to know what's going on down here, you know?

He nodded understandingly at your words. He remained silent for a few moments, during which he lowered his gaze to a fixed point on the floor before looking back at you.

"Can I… tell you something?" he asked softly.

"Sure," you invited him. He swallowed hard.

"Have you ever…?" He paused, unsure if he meant what he was thinking. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "Have you… have I…?" He stopped once more, the tense expression on his face growing more present as he tried to organize the thoughts in his head.

"You can tell me, Mark," you encouraged him, letting him know that nothing he said would change your opinion of him.

He closed his eyes, nodding to himself as you said it.

Then he opened them and looked at you. His expression masked nervousness and desperation as he tried to express his thoughts.

"I… Do you ever think…?" Do you have thoughts…?

"About what?"

He took another second, hesitating once before answering, his eyes flicking to your lips for a brief moment before returning to yours.

"Thoughts about…" he swallowed thickly, his heart racing. He didn't finish his sentence, his attention fixed on the subtle movement of your breathing.

"If…?" you whispered softly.

Mark felt his throat go dry as his eyes focused on your mouth. He inhaled softly, scanning your face before speaking.

"Thoughts… about you," he finally blurted out.

"About me?" you questioned.

He nodded, practically a nervous wreck, unable to stop himself from stuttering as he mumbled an explanation.

"Yes, about you!" I…" he inhaled softly, forcing himself to say it, "I've had t-thoughts about you."

"Oh," you whispered in surprise. "What kind of thoughts are we talking about, Mark?"

He let out a shaky breath, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest.

He was aware now of how close you were; the distance between you was practically nonexistent. He swallowed hard, his throat completely dry.

"Thoughts t-about y-you." His gaze dropped to your mouth—your lips…

"What about them?"

"I think about h-how they would feel against mine," he murmured, making your heart skip a beat.

He looked away from you quickly, the words he'd just said echoing in his mind.

He felt a pang of embarrassment, his expression turning from anxious to a mix of guilt and shyness as he realized what he'd just admitted.

"I…" he tried to find an argument to escape the situation, but found none. "I just…"

"It's okay, Mark," you assured him, flashing a reassuring smile.

"No, n-it's not," he murmured, somewhat embarrassed. "I shouldn't think that, it's not…" he muttered.

"It's not true," you replied. "We're human, Mark. We have the right to feel human emotions."

"Except we're not, right? We're just innies, and innies shouldn't focus on anything other than work."

"I think love transcends severance" you added, making his eyes widen.

"There's no room for love down here," he declared, very seriously

"I don't think so"

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you look at me."

He paused for a moment, stunned by your response.

He looked away for a moment, and when he looked back at you, his cheeks were red. I didn't expect you to notice the way I looked at you.

"H-how do I look at you?" he asked softly.

"Like you want to protect me and fuck me at the same time."

Mark felt the air escape from his lungs. He didn't expect you to be so direct. He swallowed hard, feeling his heartbeat racing in his ears.

He didn't know what to say next. The words caught in his throat.

"I…" he sighed, struggling to answer coherently, "yes."

"I want you to."

"Do you want me to…"

"Yes."

He looked at you carefully for a few moments before speaking again.

"Do you really want me to kiss you?"

"Yes."

He sighed softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he placed his hand gently on your cheek.

"Are you sure?" "He whispered again."

"I've never been so sure of anything in my entire life," you stated, making him chuckle nervously.

He lowered his gaze to your lips and back to your eyes, torturing you slightly.

"Mark… please," you begged, also looking at his lips.

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes again, losing control. He gently tilted your head back before leaning toward you, his thumb still caressing your skin as his lips clung to yours.

He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly at it, making you gasp against his mouth.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he whispered, taking in the expression on your face.

"Yes," you whispered, "because it's the same thing you do to me," you murmured, making Mark lean in to kiss you again.

The refiner thought that, although he had to be locked up there, working without knowing what I was supposed to accomplish, at least he was with you

You would discover a way out

Together

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .9

Masterlist

a/n: Thanks for your patience, everyone! This was inspired by the very real and scary experience of having my own appendix out just a few weeks ago, and I'm happy to report that I'm doing great and my stitches are healing very well! Happy reading!!

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: noelle goes to the hospital

warnings: mentions of surgery, hospitals

word count: 3,948

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

"Hello Tom,

I hope this letter finds you well. We are thrilled to inform you that after reviewing your demo tape, we would like to offer you a screen-test for our upcoming movie, "Scott and Sid"..."

Tom could barely believe what he was reading. He had nearly forgotten about the demo tape he'd sent to the open casting months ago, a long shot to get hired for a movie that would be filming over his summer home.

Home.

He would be back in England in just over a month. Classes had been pushing for weeks, final assignments, performances, term reviews. Not to mention Tom had another play coming up. He would be home before he knew it, back in his own house, back with his mum and sister, his old mates, everything that he knew and loved.

And yet, he wanted the days, the minutes even to drag on. He couldn't find it in him to leave New York just yet.

He knew it was silly, he'd lay in his bed at night and scold himself for being so lackadaisical. He couldn't help it though. Right across the hall from him was the object of his affection; just within his grasp and yet so out of reach. His classes had helped him so much with his confidence, Tom truly felt if they hadn't been interrupted that he truly could have kissed Noelle. He was still kicking himself for having wasted the time, but then that's what he always did.

Tom moved to New York to prove something to himself. He had great desires to become an actor, to tell the stories that needed to be told, to change perspectives, and of course, to hopefully make his father proud.

A sudden, urgent knocking erupted from his door, "Tom! Open up!" he heard Sunny's panicked voice through the wood.

Without even closing his laptop, Tom rushed over and swung open the door, "What's wrong, mate?"

Sunny stood there, eyes wide and heels bouncing as he explained breathlessly, "Noelle needs to go to the hospital. The ambulance just pulled up,"

Tom's heart leaped into his throat at Sunny's words. Without a second thought, he grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, following Sunny down the stairs to where the ambulance was parked outside. Noelle was already being loaded onto a stretcher, her face pale and eyes closed.

A group of concerned faces were gathered in the lobby, their eyes glued to the commotion outside. Bianca stood among them, her usually aloof demeanour now filled with worry. As soon as Tom spotted her, he hurried over.

"Bianca! What's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with panic.

Bianca grimly shrugged, "She woke up in pain and she got really sick. They think it's her appendix," she looked off, shaking her head, "I gotta -- I gotta call Stanis. Our final performance is in two weeks. Fuck..."

Tom watched helplessly as the paramedics closed up the ambulance doors, the siren already wailing before they took off into the busy street. 

Noelle couldn't pinpoint when exactly it started, all she knew was she woke up with the most intense stomach ache of her life, promptly followed by a bad case of nausea. She barely made it to the bathroom before she hurled out what little she had in her stomach, and even after the pain was brutal. Bianca woke up after hearing her wretching and despite Noelle's assurances she just needed to rest, Bianca immediately called the paramedics.

So now she was here, snuggled up under a thin hospital blanket with blaring ceiling lights. Her pyjamas had been traded out for a blue gown, pain meds were shoved into her hands, blood and urine samples were taken from her, and now all she had to do was wait... and wait... and wait...

Bianca and Iseul had cabbed down right after, with Iseul never leaving her side while Bianca phoned Noelle's family. Noelle usually didn't like to be fussed over, but she was grateful for her friends help nevertheless.

"Do you want some more water?" Iseul asked, her usual pristine face was marred with under eye circles.

"I'm okay," Noelle nodded, smiling gratefully.

"Are you still feeling sick?" Iseul asked again, nodding to the wall behind their heads, "They got these little blue sick bags if you need one,"

"I'm fine, Iseul," Noelle assured her, "Honestly, I could go home right now. Those pain meds are frigging magical,"

Bianca scoffed back at that, "No chance, I'm afraid. I heard the docs say they wanna' send you for an ultrasound," she said.

Iseul raised a brow, "But she's not pregnant... right?" she glanced at Noelle. Noelle shook her head.

"No, I am not pregnant," she confirmed, "They just want to see what's going on in there, I guess,"

"Exactly," Bianca took a seat next to Iseul, her stare endearing, "You're gonna' be just fine. Appendicitis is a really common procedure these days,"

"And hey! You might have a cool scar to show off after!" Iseul piped in, trying to come off optimistic.

"Maybe," Noelle shook her head, "... We got our final showcase in two weeks. If they have to operate --"

"We'll figure something out," Iseul assured her, "Stanis is gonna' be here after his morning class, we'll talk about it then,"

"What's more important right now is your health," Bianca nodded.

As the curtain was pulled back, the girls' attention was drawn to Tom and Sunny peering in.

"Can we come in?" Tom asked with a playful smile.

Bianca raised an eyebrow, but Iseul eagerly answered, "Of course!"

To say Noelle was happy to see them was an understatement, she was relieved. She was also curious about the small bouquet of flowers Tom had in his hand.

"What are you guys doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?" she asked.

Tom waved away her concern, "Nah, it's just rehearsal today. We can make it up later,"

Bianca couldn't help but ask, "How did you manage to get past the front desk?"

Sunny proudly replied, "Tom pretended to be Noelle's brother, he's got quite the impressive American accent," and he slapped Tom on the back, jolting the young lad forward.

"Yeah, well... I tried to be as charming and concerned as I could -- not to say I'm not concerned, we were all very concerned for you, Noelle," he explained, flustered.

"I appreciate that, Tom," she simpered back.

"We would've been here earlier, but Tom wanted to make a pit stop," Sunny added, nudging him with his elbow.

Tom smiled sheepishly and held up the bouquet, a small but colourful collection of pink daisies and white tulips wrapped in brown paper and a big pink ribbon, "It didn't seem right to come here without a get-well-soon gift," he glanced at the flowers, "Though I now realize I should've bought a vase as well,"

A small, happy smile spread across Noelle's face as she felt a warmth emanating from her chest, "It's okay, I love them. Thank you,"

To say it broke Tom's heart to see her like this was an understatement. Seeing her hooked up to an IV and surrounded by flimsy white curtains had him anxious to see her out of here. But as she flashed him a smile, he felt grateful that she was okay. She was glowing with happiness, as if this were just another day spent together, not one in a hospital ward. That being said, he couldn't quell the gnawing fear he had for her prognosis.

"So, what did the doctors say?" Sunny asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"They're gonna send me for some more tests, but they're pretty confident it's my appendix," Noelle replied.

"I don't understand why they need to test her more if they already know what the problem is," Iseul shrugged.

"Because they wanna' make sure there's nothing else causing her pain after she leaves," Bianca replied shortly, "How stupid are they gonna' look if they take out her appendix and not the tumour growing on her ovaries?"

The boys were taken aback, "Wait -- you've got a tumour?" Tom asked.

"No," Noelle shook her head, "Bianca's just saying -- they wanna' be sure they know what's wrong before they go and cut into me," she explained, her voice trailing grimly.

"So... so you're gonna' need a surgery," Tom noted. Noelle nodded solemnly.

"What about your dance show?" Sunny asked, "You'll be fine in a couple weeks, right?"

"We don't know, yet," Bianca shrugged, "We're gonna' decide when Stanis gets here,"

"The show's gonna' go on, with or without me," Noelle said, turning to her fellow dancers, "You have to,"

"But you're our Giselle!" Iseul said, "We need you!"

"It's gonna' be kind of hard to prance around on stage if she starts bleeding through her costume," Bianca huffed.

"Do you have an understudy?" Tom asked Noelle.

Bianca nodded, "Yeah, me," her response was quick and confident. Her tone turned smug and she seemed to be boasting a little. Tom didn't appreciate her attitude, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

"And she's gonna do great," Noelle nodded. She was either none the wiser to Bianca's smugness or didn't care to placate her.

"Yeah, but it won't be the same without you, Noelle," Iseul gushed, either clueless to Bianca's subtle glare or she generally didn't care.

"Oh please, you guys will be great. And I'll still be here to cheer you on from the sidelines," Noelle added, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Uncertainty weighed heavily on her mind as she tried to remain positive for her friends.

"Have you eaten anything?" Tom asked.

Noelle shook her head, "They won't give me food, right now. In case they operate today,"

"I don't understand why they can't let you eat anything," Sunny chimed in.

"So she won't vomit during the surgery," Iseul replied.

"But if you're asleep, how is your body going to know it's going to be sick?" he asked.

"Don't think too hard about it," Bianca told him, "You'll hurt yourself,"

"I keep telling these two to go eat," Noelle interjected, pointing to the girls.

"And we're not leaving you alone," Bianca retorted.

"... a turkey sandwich sounds pretty good right now, though," Iseul muttered.

"And how fair is it that we get to eat and she doesn't?" Bianca replied.

Tom piped in, "Well... if you guys want to get something to eat, we can stay here," he said.

Bianca shook her head, "Mmm, I don't know,"

Noelle gave her a pointed look, "Oh, c'mon. You guys need to eat,"

"But what about you?" Bianca protested.

"I have my IV!" Noelle held up her arm connected to the fluids bag.

Iseul stood up from her chair, "Okay deal. We'll go get something to eat, and the boys can keep an eye on you," she declared, pointing to them.

Sunny glanced at Tom, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he chimed in, "Mind if I come too?"

Iseul cut off Bianca before she could respond, "Of course not! Tom, can we get you anything while we're out?"

Tom waved them off with a kind smile, "No thanks, I'm good for now,"

Bianca relented, standing up with Iseul and grabbing her jacket, "You call us if the doctors come back, or if anything happens -- just call us," she told Tom, pointing at his chest.

"Oh, please. I'm not dying," Noelle protested.

Tom nodded nevertheless, "I'll take good care of her," he promised.

The three of them filed out of the ward, leaving Tom to take a seat on one of the chairs, gingerly placing the colourful bouquet beside him. Noelle's face lit up with a warm smile as she gazed at him, her eyes sparkling with genuine affection.

"I'm really glad to see you," she said.

"I'm really glad to see you," he grinned back, "I can't imagine how scared you must've been,"

"I mean -- I've had better Tuesdays," she chuckled gingerly, "I hope Bianca didn't panic you too much,"

"Nah, the ambulance accomplished that quite well," he replied, "You look better, though!"

"I feel better!" she nodded, "Crazy what Tylenol and antibiotics can do in two hours,"

"Did you call your family?"

"Bianca did. Maurice is probably scouring the internet for standby tickets," she shook her head, "Are you sure you're okay being here? The last few weeks of school are critical! And you’re still only a first year—"

“Hey,” he interrupted, placing his hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else. You are my priority,”

Noelle’s heart did a complicated dance in her chest. The logical part of her brain screamed guilt, he had so much to do, he didn't need to be here worrying about her. Yet, the warmth of his hand over hers, the sincerity in his eyes, made her pulse quicken in a way she couldn’t ignore. Tom’s presence was a balm to her anxious mind, a constant that steadied her when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

Tom’s gentle squeeze brought her back to the present. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The gratitude was genuine, but so was the turmoil. She hoped he couldn’t see the confusion in her eyes, the war between wanting to tell him to go back and rehearse and the undeniable comfort his presence provided. She managed a small smile, the weight of her feelings pressing down but also lifting her up in a strange, dizzying way.

"I've got some great news," he said softly, a renewed excitement filling his gaze.

"Tell me!" Noelle grinned.

"I got a screen-test for a movie!"

"Shut up!..."

Noelle was taken for emergency surgery that evening, having to stay a night at the hospital after. Her stomach now had a different type of throbbing ache within it, along with three large gauze pads taped across her stomach, and her throat was sore from the anaesthesia and intubation. But at least she could finally eat.

The world had to continue on, nevertheless. Sunny had an upcoming solo exhibition, and he was practicing night and day practically. He tried to keep it down for Tom, who was equally rehearsing and practicing his lines with Jordan for their upcoming play.

And of course, Noelle's incisions wouldn't heal in time for her final showcase, so sure enough Stanis gave the part of Bianca. Bianca was ecstatic of course, she was gone most days rehearsing. And while Noelle was happy for her friend, she wished Bianca wouldn't boast and brag so much about getting the part.

Tom made sure to carve out time for Noelle, even if it meant spending hours on the couch watching movies. He would sit beside her, his presence a gentle reassurance that she wasn’t alone. Noelle’s guilt piled up like the blankets she huddled under. She didn’t want to be a distraction from the mountain of work she knew he had, but the comfort he provided was undeniable, sweet and soothing in a way she hadn’t expected.

When she voiced her concerns, her worries tumbling out about how he should be focusing on his studies, Tom would simply smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Don’t worry,” he’d say, meaning it every time. He could see the guilt in her eyes, the way she fretted about his workload, but her well-being was what mattered most to him. His words were like a warm blanket themselves, wrapping around her and easing her guilt.

She’d gaze at him, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper swirling in her chest. Watching him, his focus entirely on her, made her heart flutter. The way he laughed at the movies, the way he instinctively knew when she needed another pillow or a sip of water—it was all so effortlessly thoughtful. Each moment spent with him, every gentle touch and reassuring word, made her feelings for him grow stronger.

Noelle found herself savoring these hours, the quiet, shared moments where the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them. Tom’s presence was a balm to her healing body and her heart, his dedication making her feel cherished in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Tom felt his heart flutter every time she looked at him with those big, beautiful eyes. Her recovery wasn’t just about her getting better—it was about them growing closer. Each shared smile, each moment of silence, deepened the bond between them.

Since Bianca was cast as Giselle, the performance date was moved up, giving her extra time to practice and become comfortable in the role. However, to Tom's dismay, he noticed the new poster for the show in the hall one afternoon, revealing that the new date conflicted with his own performance night. Even if Noelle wasn't going to be in the show, he still wanted to go with her and support her. And she had equally been so excited to see his play...

"Oh, they're only an hour apart!" Noelle exclaimed, having been shown the flyer by Tom, "I can start at the recital, then I'll come see your play!"

Tom was flicking through take out menus, trying to decide what they should order for dinner, "Yeah, but we're on opposite sides of the campus," he reminded her, "Don't you think it might be a bit much for you?"

Noelle simpered, "Tom, I had my appendix out, I wasn't hit by a bus. I can walk," she assured him, "Besides, you've sacrificed so much time for me, it's the least I can do!"

"Hey, c'mon," he took a seat beside her, "You act like taking care of you is such a big hardship. Besides, if anything I'm getting more studying done here,"

"Oh? How?" she quirked a brow at him.

"Simple. I watch movies with you, I learn more about acting," he smiled back.

She snorted back, "What kind of acting are you gonna' learn from Jason Statham? How to do the blue steel while sky diving?"

"Hey! Practicing cool is an important acting skill," he reminded her.

"Yeah, like you need to practice being cool," she replied.

"I knew you would agree," he smirked back, he then held up the stack of menus, "Sushi or Pizza?"

"Sushi! Obviously!" she gawked back playfully.

"Usual combo?"

"Yes, please. I'll get the money," she started to rise from the couch.

"Uh -- no," Tom put his hand out, "You sit down, I'll get it,"

Noelle scoffed, "Absolutely not! You got it last time!"

"And I don't mind getting it again," after all, she hadn't been back to work since her operation; she wasn't supposed to be lifting anything heavy and a bowling ball was certainly out of the question.

Nevertheless, as much as she appreciated Tom's concern, Noelle was still just a little bit more stubborn, "Okay -- we'll go halvies, then. Deal?"

"Deal,"

Noelle grabbed her wallet from her room and returned to find Tom already on the phone with the restaurant. He was hunched over, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he flicked through the menu options. He looked so natural, so effortlessly at ease, like he belonged there. With her.

But as Noelle settled back into her seat, a wave of realization hit her. Tom would be leaving in a few weeks, gone all summer back to England. He had projects, a life over there, an actual home. The overthinking began. Did he prefer England to New York? Would he go back and decide he didn’t want to return?

The thought twisted in her chest, a knot of anxiety that she couldn’t quite shake.

When Tom got off the phone he noted the look on her face; the spaced-out frown, the mindless chewing on her inner cheeks. "What's wrong?" he asked, "The stitches aren't bothering you, are they?"

"What? No!" Noelle replied quickly, "I was just thinking... I need to get more medical tape," it wasn't a complete lie, all she had was the few dressings the nurses had given her.

"Oh," in his gut he didn't quite believe her, but he also didn't want to push her either, "Well, I can see if Doris has some. Worst case we can go out and get some! Pharmacy's down the block,"

She smiled back at him, damn, why are your eyes so pretty? "We'll go on a little adventure after dinner,"

The sushi arrived within the hour, and despite Tom's concern for her health and stamina, he and Noelle laced up their shoes and headed out for the pharmacy. It was a late spring evening, the weather already turning pleasant, with trees sprouting buds and blossoms scattered across the streets. Tom didn’t say a word when Noelle’s hand slipped into his, nor did Noelle protest much when Tom offered her his coat as the breeze picked up.

On the way back, though, he noticed her starting to lag behind. Her exhaustion was catching up to her, and her stitches were beginning to itch. Noelle didn’t mind the walk, she just had to go a little slower than she would’ve liked. She was pleasantly surprised when Tom offered her a piggyback ride. Despite her insistence that she’d be okay, she knew he could be just as stubborn as she was.

Tom crouched down, presenting his back to Noelle with a silent invitation. She hesitated for a moment, a small smile playing on her lips, before gently climbing onto his back. As her arms wrapped around his neck, she could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh, earthy aroma of the spring evening. His warmth radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt, instantly making her feel more at ease.

Tom stood up slowly, adjusting her weight, his hands steady and strong under her thighs. Noelle nestled her chin on his shoulder, her cheek brushing against the soft, worn fabric of his shirt. She could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, a comforting and steady cadence that matched the slow, deliberate pace of their walk. The scent of city life in the air mingled with the subtle notes of Noelle's floral shampoo, creating a blend that was both calming and familiar.

They moved in perfect sync, Tom’s strides even and unhurried to accommodate her. Noelle's hair, tousled by the evening breeze, tickled his neck, and every now and then, she’d shift slightly, causing a gentle tug on his shirt. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around them like a soft blanket, each step punctuated by the muffled sounds of their shoes against the pavement.

Tom’s back was solid and reassuring beneath her, a silent promise of support. Noelle’s heartbeat, slow and steady, drummed against his back, syncing with his own. They didn’t need words; the quiet was filled with the sound of their shared breaths, the distant hum of the city, and the rustling leaves overhead.

As they walked, Tom occasionally glanced back, his eyes catching hers with a tender, reassuring glint. Noelle would respond with a squeeze of her arms, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond between them. The warmth of his body, the gentle sway of his gait, and the closeness they shared in that moment made her feel cherished and protected.

By the time they reached home, Noelle was almost dozing, lulled by the gentle motion and the comfort of being so close to him. Tom carefully lowered her to the ground, their eyes meeting once more in a silent exchange of gratitude and affection. The connection between them felt stronger, their shared moment a sweet memory etched into the fabric of their relationship.

[blank-house]

Hey so I was wondering how you’d describe each of the seasonal personalities. I’ve played a bit with each of them and I was wondering what would be the key traits that define them.

+ I was also wondering which seasons you’d assign to each cast member.

Oooooh okay before I get into the specifics, it's important to note that the seasonal personalities are how we easily define behaviors and track attribute changes in the game-- attributes being the 4C's which I can expand on if someone's curious about it (SURPRISE Keyframes is actually a bit of a stat raiser haha).

Like it's a cute touch for personalization, but in the backend scheme of things it's more for the dev's sake. That way we can give players an immersive experience while not shooting ourselves in the foot trying to account for everything ^^,

So by no means is any of this meant to be accurate to every individual player, it's just how we chose to define a thought process for the immersion.

With that out of the way, let's get down to it!

Spring

We considered them to be more charming. Joking, teasing, is how they tend to act. It's almost like theatre- they perform for others, and rope them in to join the show. Witty and quick on their feet, it takes a bit of dancing to catch them off guard. But if you happen to do so, they'd graciously applaud your efforts.

Point is, Spring people we defined to be the ones who are playful. They've got an ideology that is somewhat imposed on others but it's always indirect. With their flowery words, you might just end up being persuaded to go with their flow!

To add on to the stage references, they think of themselves as the playwright. The stage is theirs to command.

Summer

These types are more confident. Like the sun, they're bold and expressive. They're sort of similar to Spring, in that they also have their own ideologies that are being imposed, but they are way more direct with it. So before you know it, people are going with their flow not because they've been persuaded, but because Summer has already gone and done it!

If this is what they believe, then they're not easily swayed. If this is is what they want, then by heaven or hell they'll do it. Summers are sincere because there is simply nothing to hide with them. You'll know if you made them upset or if they're not 100% sold on an idea.

To continue with the stage references, they think they're the main lead! The story, their fate is their own.

Fall

People of this type are compassionate. They're supporters and observers. You might hear them ask, "What do you think" or "is there something on your mind". It's more important to them that the company they're with is comfortable even if it might be at the cost of their own.

They tend to pick up on other people's wavelengths and will curate their words and actions in response. In a sense, they're thoughtful and will consider all scenarios before making a decision.

Again with the stage references, they might see themselves as an arbitrary member of the play. Whether that member is the crew, or on the stage as a supporting character or even the main lead- it doesn't matter. They are helping the play unfold regardless.

Winter

Lasty, Winters are composed. They're more realistic from the rest and are largely unflappable because of it. You can count on them to respond to things objectively. Furthermore, they refrain from making things complicated or inflating them to an unnecessary degree because they've already thought everything through.

Winters are convicted in the same way that Summer people are but they keep that conviction to themself. From their perspective, if they know what they want, then that's good enough. Others will have to ask if they want to know. Because of this, they are seen as assured.

To wrap it up with the stage references, Winter types might see themselves in the audience. They take in the entire story and respond accordingly.

~*~*~*~

As for which cast member is what, the obvious line up would be:

Percy and Reynah for Spring

Elio in Summer

Cameron as Fall

And Deja and Jamie for Winter

To be honest, cast members are a bit more difficult to group into seasons because we defined them more with the player in mind. Like, Reynah could slot into Summer easily, Elio into Fall, and Jamie into Summer, and so on and so on. But that's because we gave the cast members depth and reasons for their behaviors.

Since we don't know anything about MC, but we're also attempting to give you a solid foundation into the world of Keyframes, the personalities allow us to insert you in with a framework in mind.

That way, your friends can be like "Yeah, that's how they've always been" at the start of the game and the rest of it can be us exploring your change as a person.

So don't sweat it if the game assigned you as a Summer type and it doesn't resonate with you. It's just meant to act as a nice starting point. As you play through the game, we'll clock what choices you've made and if you end up being more composed, charming, or compassionate then the cast will see that change as well. That's the cool thing about life, you don't have to stay the same-- and we'll do our best to reflect these natural changes in the two year setting we've planned!

Thank you for the ask! Hope that gives you a better idea of each season. ^^

[woodsfae]

B5 s03e09 Point of No Return table of contents • previous chapter

Londo demonstrating some politic thinking and also 

"Intelligence has nothing to do with politics!"

True and depressing. Poor Vir. Is he getting that nap or not? The Emperor's third wife, Lady Morella is coming for a visit!

President Clark just pulled a coup! Fired the senate, arrested a bunch of them. 

"Everything's gone to hell, John. God help us all; you're on your own." 

How promising! 

The communications blackout of Babylon 5 is an incredibly intelligent move. Removes the possibilities of moles. Or at least makes the moles' tasks harder. Reduces misinformation. Clarifies chain of command on Babylon 5 and distances Earth. 

A General Hague has gone rogue and wants to do a counter strike, but needs to gather military allies. And he's Sheridan's contact in the military. He might be coming near Babylon 5. dun dun! 

Zack Allen is pushing back a little tiny bit against the Nightwatch guy calling a meeting tonight. hooray *waves world's tiniest "you only collaborated a medium amount" flag*

Lady Morella, the Centauri is a seer, and Londo reeeallly wants her to visit so he can ask her about the future, and to assure him he's made the right choice. 

But as a seer, she seems pretty surprised at the unusual circumstances she's walked into. No pomp, no ceremony, no Earth officials to greet her. 

Sheridan and Babylon 5 are getting their official orders from the President's staff. And they're terrible. All of Sheridan's security staff must be Nightwatch. 

Meanwhile, Zealous Nightwatch Guy is giving a terrible speech. 

"From this moment...Babylon 5 belongs to the nightwatch."

Please let them overthrow the nightwatch this episode. Extended spying and counter-intelligence sounds stressful. 

G'Kar, who is free three weeks early, thanks to Garibaldi preferring to assign his security staff to more useful activities than guarding G'Kar in prison, has plot! His allies stand ready, and G'Kar has plans, it seems!

Zack Allen. is failing his moral checkpoints again. He's trying to convince nightwatch people from resigning from the nightwatch. Garibaldi is going to physically fight them, right as Lady Morella is about to take her tour with Londo! Should be fun.

Ah, Lady Morella is the widow of the late Emperor. The one who died and told Londo with his last words that they were basically doomed, and Londo unfaithfully repeated as the empire will be glorious or something. 

Will this, finally, be a turning point for Londo? He wants to see if he has any choices left, and if they're worth choosing. And Lady Morella has agreed to give him a reading! Exciting. 

Jerry Doyle just gave Zack Allen a speech! And now he's giving the nightwatch a speech, but they're not buying it like Zack Allen, who seemed to waver a bit. fucking Zack is the new security head. laaaaaame. He's so laaaame. 

G'Kar is all into transformative meditations to turn himself into a calm being right now. The telepathy drug experience did a number on him. Gave him a fervor with a directed clarity. Ta'Lon is not impressed. 

Humanity is the key, and G'Kar and others will turn the key. And on the other side is "salvation for all of us." 

Sheridan, stop going along with this. Just go overthrow the nightwatch. Garibaldi will be working it from one end, to be sure. 

Londo!! The audacity! He took Lady Morella's arm and tried to stop her from going to where she was going (to see the human breaking news). General Hague the rogue general has had a daring escape and the nightwatch broke up the cheering crowd. Cue citizens vs nightwatch brawl!  

Great work putting Sheridan's calm announcement of martial law over the brawl. With Zack Allen standing uselessly by as nightwatch fascists beat civilians with batons. 

Dr Franklin thinks that going along with the orders will help buy enough time for General Hague to gather allies, the Senate to reconvene, and "beat this whole thing."

Sheridan's attention to detail and rules-lawyering is coming into play! The orders he got came from "the political office" but Sheridan is only obliged to obey orders from the Commander-in-Chief. Which is the President Wanna-Be-Dictator. So his orders would be bad. But the orders didn't come from him, they came from "the political office."

Lady Morella had a vision while doing Vir's hair! It appeared to be Londo, old, and slumped on a throne-like ornate chair. 

Zack Allen is reporting that Babylon 5 staff are bringing a ship of Narns in to replace the nightwatch. I wonder if this is a play. I'm hoping that Sheridan et al is running a play on him and the nightwatch. Because if they decided to trust in his moral fiber, they're bound to be sadly disappointed. He's cosmically bound to always make the worst choice. 

G'Kar has a plan, and plea to his Narn network. Can't wait to see how that plays out. 

John Sheridan is getting ready for something Very Srsly. And he's already up and ready to go when his alarm went off at 2:30 am so I'm taking it as proof of the Sheridan et al are playing the nightwatch theory. Zack could be acting shady because he's in on it, or...ope, he was in on it! What a dive out the gate. He landed on the right side at the eleventh hour. Now lovebomb him so he doesn't falter, I guess? 

Sheridan's stalling, more or less per Franklin's advice. The information about the Narns was real! Sort of. The Narns were already on board! This must be G'Kar's plan blooming? Cool! 

Londo has three opportunities to avoid the fire that awaits him at the end of his journey, and has already missed two. And a lot of other things I'll need to look up and copy at some point. 

Lady Morella: "You will be Emperor. That part of your destiny cannot be avoided. You will also be emperor. Why are you laughing?" Vir: "I thought you were joking." Lady Morella: "We do not laugh in the face of prophecy, Vir."

ominous! And Vir will be Emperor, huh? That's wild. And Londo will be Emperor! That's interesting. He fails upwardly so hard he eventually lands in the hot seat he doesn't know he doesn't want, eh? I never knew that. Y'all are really good at keeping spoilers secret.

Oh dang!! She's sharing the lift with Ta'Lon, who smiles so politely at her! Adorable. She is not impressed in the slightest. 

Yeah, G'Kar! He wants in. Sheridan playing dumb is honestly so disingenuous. Their anti-Shadow alliance has been so dismissive of the Narn and G'Kar, but they're literally the best allies the humans could be making right now. Because like Zack Allen, human earth command has been making all the worst decisions and backing the wrong ponies. 

And now Londo doesn't trust Vir to not be trying to kill him all the time! Vir is hilarious teasing him about it. At least, I think he's teasing. 

General Hague is in a bad way. Four out of five of his ships have been shot down and he's fleeing in the last one. Humanity's not making awesome decisions, ongoing. Well, the high political offices, anyway. I can't blame the future's citizens for their dystopia from my position in my dystopia too harshly.

vamanos