#Kind of inspired in my brother who does the same but by being ten times more annoying

[mixiury]

Sunlight knocking outside of your window.

Character(s): Wanderer x GN Reader

Warning(s): Depressive thoughts and in general signs of depression.

Summary: When days seems meaningless, someone is there for you. (OR how he helps you during a depressive episode)

A/N: I wrote this as a comfort for myself a year ago or so. I never meant to publish it but, now that I am in a better place, I thought that it may help anyone who is going through the same, so here it is <3 Requests are open btw!

Shivers run through your body despite being covered in sheets and blankets. Everything is so cold, the type that numbs out your senses until all you can feel is the freezing sensation taking your body. Just the idea of getting out of the bed is unimaginable, too tired to even move from your position.

All corners in the room sumerge you in their darkness, as if waiting to consume you whole. You don't resist it. There is just not point on it. Instead you close your eyes and let it drive, taking you whatever it wishes. Maybe if you pray hard enough you will be somewhere else. A unreachable place where pain can't find you, far away from your own mind.

Just five more minutes of sleep never hurt anybody, and sometimes resigning is far better than keep fighting an endless war, but when you open your eyes you are still in your room. Motionless. Fixed to the same thoughts that never seem to leave.

Some days are harder than others, they say, but in reality, they are not. They are incredibly easy, and that somehow makes it worse. You have no right to pity yourself when all you do is eat and sleep for hours, if not days, while other people works so hard to get half of what you have. It's shameful, really, but you can't force yourself to care enough to do something about it.

You try not to focus too much in your surroundings, intentionally ignoring all the clothes and papers around your bed. They are in the floor too, memorizing exactly the place of everything just so you don't step on them. It has be getting harder as more and more trash gather around, but everytime you set your mind in cleaning something comes out. You just don't have time for it, you often tell yourself. Maybe, if you say it enough times, one day you will believe it.

Actually, what time is it? The urge to check your phone suddenly overcomes you, although quickly give up on it when you realize it is completely dead. It doesn't even matter, you think. Days are all the same anyways, your shrug it off. You don't even remember the last time you did anything outside of roting in your room. Your memory has gotten worse, or maybe it has gotten better because, when you have nothing to do, everything is a little reminder of it.

How you wish you could just sleep this uncomfortable feeling crawling off your chest as worms eating your flesh, yet, despite how tired you are, your body stubbornly refuse to shut itself off once again. It must have gotten tired of that too, you just hoped it would do the same with you. But as much you would like that to happen, all you can do is stare at the ceiling. In a weird, incomprehensible way, It stares back.

It's impossible to know how long you stay like that, it could have been hours just as it could have been minutes, but what brings you back to reality is a knock on your door, the numbness suddenly replaced with annoyance as you slowly realize it won't stop anytime soon. The person outside of your room must know how stubborn you can be, because at some point they just stop knocking and abruptly break in. Rude. Maybe you should be scared that someone was able to get inside your house that easily, but instead you only burry yourself in your blankets, the light from the outside dazzling you.

Doesn't take you to see his face or hear his voice to know who is the intruder, although the recognition doesn't make it any better nor your annoyance any less.

"How do you even walk in here?"

"Good morning for you too."

"It's 5 pm. In what world is that morning?"

"In mine."

"And in it is this good too?"

"Definitely not after you burst through my door."

You hope that he would finally get the message, turn around and leave you alone, but all he does is huff and start gathering things off the floor, matching your own stubbornness. Although irritating, you know better that try to kick him out, already familiar with this routine between the two of you everytime you or him fall into these "episodes", coming unwelcome to the other's place just to check if they are still alive, most of the time after a week or two of not news or signs of life.

It is an unsaid agreement that you both did when opening to each other for the first time, something you sometimes are grateful of and others regret it, specially when he is the one breaking in and not the other way around. You wonder if he feels the same, but either way, none of you ever talk about it.

"Don't move anything, you are just going to make it worse."

"Stop whining and be grateful I'm doing this in the first place. Your whole room is already a mess, there is literally no way to make it worse."

Your mind screams to tell him how you know the place of every single thing on the floor and how he is just desorginizing your whole complex system you carefully created, but that would just start an argument about how stupid that is and you just don't have the energy for it right now. Yet, with the blankets on top of you to still cover the light, you decide to throw him a dirty petty look, one which once again is matched by him at first and later ignored.

Finally, you give up, fully using the blankets as a shelter and burying yourself in them like before.

Speak feels too much, listen feels too much, eat feels too much, get up feels too much, sleep feels too much, exist feels too much. You can't even continue staring at the ceiling because that would mean uncover your eyes completely and the lights are also too much for your eyes. All you wish is for Wanderer to give up on you just like you gave up in yourself, maybe if he did you wouldn't feel as a burden anymore. Maybe you would finally stop caring at all. But when has Wanderer ever listened to someone besides himself? Just like talking to a rock, or in this case, puppet.

"Stop overthinking. Self pity won't take you anywhere."

His voice guides you out of your thoughts, but not out of the all consuming emptiness and loneliness that usually fallows with them. He knows it all well, the feeling of just wanting to dissapear out of thin air to never be remembered nor found. That should be comforting, yet it isn't. Understanding does nothing against it, pity makes it worse, and help is terrifying, no matter from who it comes.

"All I want is to go back to sleep." Half a truth. You don't need to finish that sentence for him to get it.

"When was the last time you ate anything?"

What were you supposed to answer to that? You don't even know what day is it. It could have been just some hours just as it could have been days. Last time you checked your fridge there was nothing left to eat so you just went back to the bed and haven't bothered of eating anything ever since. You should have ordered something, anything, but you must stink after so many time without showering and you just didn't want to interact with anyone like that.

"Time is relative."

You try to hide it but embarrassment crawl out of your body as the realization kicks in, hands instinctively reaching for your pillow and using it to cover yourself with that too. If seeing your room was bad this was ten times worse. You haven't noticed until now, but your hair is greasy and your clothes sweaty, sticking to your skin in a very uncomfortable way. Although your nose can't catch it, it would be surprising if you don't smell too, for once grateful that your friend doesn't exactly have a human body to notice that.

Now, besides feeling completely useless, you also feel self conscious, isn't this so great?

He sighs and you are so sure he is going to leave. It is weird, all this time everything wanted is for him to get out as soon as possible, but now that feels so degrading, not that you would blame him if he does.

"I'll cook something but first I need you to get out of the bed."

Of course. You almost forgot this is Wanderer.

"I don't want to get up."

He stares at you. You stare back harder. All those stare competitions with the ceiling will have to paid off somehow.

Both of you stay like that until he finally resigns for the first time today, going back to clean around. It is surprising how he did so much in about an hour, actually being able to see the floor now. You will just blame his anemo vision for it, because the alternative is that you are just useless at literally picking stuff from the floor and you aren't really fan of that conclusion.

You must have spaced out because the next thing you feel is the weight of the bed suddenly shifting, Wanderer getting on it too as he ignores all the stuff on top of it. Your mind begs you to push him away, but your body moves a little to the edge, giving him the space to actually fit. Maybe any other day you two would fall into a teasing exchange, mocking each other and trying to get under the skin of the other only to forget how the conversation started in the first place. However, as familiar you are with those conversations, it just doesn't feel right anymore. Not right now.

"Here is what we are going to do; We stay in bed for 15 minutes more, after that we stand up and you go and take a shower while I cook you something. When we are done we can watch a movie, play something or hang out outside, what do you say?"

"Make it twelve minutes, let me pick the movie AND the games. You have terrible taste."

"Fine, but then you agree to open the windows because this place looks like a fucking cave. Also, I refuse to play Animal Crossing."

"Animal Crossing is way better than any other game you play."

"My choice is final. We can still play that stupid cult game where you are a goat or something."

"Is a lamb."

"Whatever, we have a deal?"

"Do I even have any other choice?"

Wanderer smiles slightly, greedy and proud, while you reluctantly accept your final defeat for today. The only difference is that, this time, you don't feel as alone as before, forming a smile of your own too. Maybe a little of light isn't so bad after all.

[melishade]

I wasn't able to read Exodus throughly before. Only parts and bits, but I recently started reading it from the very start and oh my god. It is painful to see how avoidable the two brothers' falling out was. I can understand Optimus' guilt better now. He too probably spent the last 4 millions just thinking about how easily all this bloodshed and carnage could have been avoided. If both Megatron and Orion acted a bit differently during the meeting with the high council, everything could have been sooo much different. Man... I have a weak spot for "tragic and avoidable fall out of two brothers trope" don't I?

None of my friends are into TF lore, sorry for nerding out at you :(

...It really could have been avoided, but both were kind of holding the 'Idiot Ball' and couldn't say the right thing in order to quell the situation.

In TFP, Ratchet does give a rather biased, quite one-sided, retelling of how the war started and the ultimate fallout between Optimus and Megatron. You can chalk it up to bias simply because of how much Ratchet cares and respects Optimus, but I think in terms of the writing of the show, Megatron's ultimate backstory and how he felt didn't really matter because he already violated the Geneva Convention ten times over at that point. He's a mass murderer, a genocidal maniac. Why would the viewers care about his complete backstory?

But in TF Exodus, it really does explore the multiple perspectives happening before the war starts and doesn't make everyone so black and white.

Megatron has known violence. It's his weapon. It's his comfort. It's his safety. It's all Megatron has really known. And being a miner given the name of 'D-16' shows that the system was just going to easily replace him when he died. I don't even think that he was allowed out of the mines. I think there was one line of dialogue from one of the many books published in the Aligned Continuity where it says Megatron only saw the sun once before he was forced underground. He watched people like him around him die violently. He was most likely abused and oppressed along with anyone else who tried to speak out. Being a gladiator, was a benefit for him. It was a way for Megatron to move up from his station, to find comfort in violence, to find value in violence. There was a great quote by Megatron that said something along the lines of "As we killed out opponents in the ring, we found value in death" or something to that degree. He became a champion. He inspired the masses. He gave a lot of lower caste citizens a voice, and protected them from those who wanted nothing more than to keep the status quo. He makes sure he's not ignored, even renaming himself after the 13 original Primes. A miner turned gladiator called 'Megatronus'? How could they ignore that?

Meanwhile, Orion Pax...is the equivalent of a middle class, privileged white boy. Sure, Orion didn't have the same luxuries as his friend Jazz, and he could very well get in trouble if he analyzed and called into question the historical text he was coming across, but he was safe. He was secure. He didn't experience violence or oppression the same way Megatron did. While Megatron wanted to change the caste system in order to make the lives of people like him better, Orion initially wanted to do it because he wanted to go to a Cybertronian amusement park because he wasn't aloud to go due to his status. Hell, I think Orion only got lucky to serve under Alpha Trion because he's the supposed reincarnation of Thirteen: the Prime who's name was omitted from the Covenant of Primus.

Still Orion does gain a better understanding and is even willing to go to Kaon to talk directly to Megatron. Orion craved knowledge, and he wants a better understanding of the world around. Despite coming from a place of safety and even ignorance, Orion wanted to learn. I think that's what ultimately drew Megatron into trusting Orion and welcoming him into the fold to a degree. Their relationship was hope that the caste system could be destroyed and Cybertron would change for the better. Megatron believe through force and revolution, Orion believes through peace talks. (Literal reflection of Eren and Armin but I digress)

But Orion is still holding onto that state of ignorance while Megatron is holding onto using violence as a means for change. So when they get to the council, everything just falls apart! Because Megatron is believing in violence, and he's making his case of a violent revolution to the council. And Orion sees that this isn't going to end well, so he steps in so he can protect Megatron. But as the crowd is cheering Orion on, there's a brief line in the book where Orion turns to Megatron and he doesn't look happy at all. But instead of calling it quits and realizing this is making Megatron upset, the Council offers him the title of Prime, and Orion just accepts it there. Doesn't even give himself a few days to think about it or even say no. He just accepts it without thinking and Megatron is pissed.

And I agree with Megatron. I'd be pissed too! Because Megatron was warned about Orion by Soundwave. Don't trust Orion. Don't welcome him into the fold. And Megatron didn't listen. He wanted to trust Orion, but this tiny, little archivist, who knew nothing of the energon spilt and the lives lost throughout the lower caste, who knew nothing of the pain of loss, swoops in and takes what Megatron has been working so hard for. He's angry. He's betrayed. And he's resorting back to the use of violence because he let himself deviate from that and it cost him. And it ultimately results in Halogen's life.

And Orion, now Optimus, can't talk to Megatron anymore because he didn't think at how bad his decision would look in front of his brother. Again, he was holding the 'Idiot Ball' for someone who's trying to analyze data for a living! And the guilt Optimus no doubt felt after words. He no doubt felt that he was responsible for the war. Maybe if he had just said no, maybe the war wouldn't have gotten this far.

It's a tragedy. It's a Greek tragedy if I ever heard one.

Although, this also all could have been prevented if Alpha Trion wasn't a secretive asshole all the time and did a better job at being a Prime, instead of at most, getting Orion and Megatron that meeting with ultimately started the war. Which may have already been written down prior to the meeting, which means Alpha Trion had future vision to a degree, and could have really tried to STOP IT!

And the nerding out was fun. I enjoyed it. Sometimes I like enjoying certain complexities that could have happened in the Transformers Prime show, other times, I just like seeing Megatron be a dumb bitch.

[seerofmike]

It’s Okay To Say Gay, Apex

[this is a repost of something i made on reddit so some of the comments in this post will be like directly aimed at reddit so sorry if any of this reads as weird because of that LOL]

it’s pride month, and there’s no better time other than pride month to make a post about the lore and rep of LGBT+ characters in apex. also this post was partially inspired by the comments under respawn’s recent ‘Trans Rights’ post. more on that later.

this post is a critique, so i won’t be saying many positive things in it, but i do want to get it out of the way now that respawn is one of the better AAA games when it comes to handling LGBT+ rep, and the fact that we even have this much representation at all is great. astounding. but it also falls drastically short, and i think it is something important to discuss. and yes, this does have shit to do with lore, i can hear some of you typing--because not every identity is treated equally in lore.

so let’s get to it.

what partially inspired me to make this post about mlm specifically when i originally planned on doing a post about *all* the LGBT rep in apex is the simple fact that scrolling under respawn’s recent  post, half the comments are about fuse and seer. (the other half are asking where bangalore is lol).

“wait, fuse is gay?”

“fuse and seer are gay????”

“i didn’t know seer was gay? since when?”

i also asked for lgbt+ people’s opinion on how the rep is overall in four different places, and while other things were complained about, the thing complained about the most was the fact that the mlm in apex aren’t allowed to...well, love men.

now, to ELABORATE:

YES, gibraltar has nik. YES, they have kissed in lore. gibraltar has mentioned nik in lore. nik was featured in-game in the season 7 comics. but let’s compare that to apex’s wlw rep.

i don’t really know how to say this, but valk is just. So Obviously a lesbian. she constantly talks about stealing your girl, how much she loves women, she’s been flirting with loba since release, loading screens mention that she hits on girls and has an ex-girlfriend. valk is so obviously a lesbian that it’s actually kind of impressive respawn pulled it off. i cannot imagine that making a character like this ten, hell even *five* years ago--look at how tracer’s identity is treated by overwatch--would have been easy or even possible.

loba also very clearly likes women. she flirts with valk, she has a voiceline referencing being bisexual, she spends much of season 5 lore materials openly flirting with cheryl amacci and yoko from hammond in order to get what she wants, she talks frequently in season 9 about being bangalore’s knight in shining armor, how she’s a beautiful woman, they have a date...she buys her flowers, and then gets upset when bangalore says they’re just friends...

and these two flirt. SO. GODDAMN. MUCH. every match they’re paired together. you can’t play a match with those two without hearing some innuendo about how they’re going to ‘’get cozy’’ after the game. it’s so obvious and also kind of uncomfortably sexual to the point that my brother, who knows Zero about lore, begged me to never pick loba again while he plays valk because it drives him nuts having my character flirt with his like that.

this isn’t shaming apex or its characters for its obvious and upfront sapphic romance. even if the love triangle is so fucking tiring at times, and makes you wish that they would just TALK TO EACH OTHER, the fact that valk and loba can be like this in a game like apex is honestly kind of a triumph in terms of representation.

makes ya wish that the men got the same treatment.

gibraltar’s bio makes mention of a boyfriend, and he has a location-specific voiceline (one of the hardest to trigger) about kissing his boyfriend at the thunderdome. until season 7 with the in-game comics, it would be very hard for someone who just plays the game to know that gibraltar is gay. and even then, nik and gibraltar are so safe it almost hurts.

look, i’m not saying they should’ve fucked or whatever in the comic, but i wanted to bring this up to highlight a thread that former writer tom casiello made in response to Nikbraltar kissing in a season 9 comic--about how he wanted the Nikbraltar kiss to show pure, gay love. wholesome love. safe for the kids. innocent love.

and yes, that’s so important, especially after years of homophobic rhetoric that gay people are Sex Fiends. but then you have to wonder: why must Nik and Gibraltar be wholesome, pure, and innocent, when valk and loba, in that very same season, were each talking about how Much they get babes?

to tom casiello’s credit, he does say that gibraltar’s sexuality had been ignored for nine seasons. and you know, gibraltar isn’t really the type of dude to talk about how much he gets guys, ya know? so sure. that’s fine. i don’t need gibraltar to tell me how many twinks he attracts at a gay bar. leave that to a character with a more flirty personality.

enter: fuse and seer.

fuse and seer have both been confirmed to be pansexual on twitter dot com.

that’s it.

end: fuse and seer.

okay jokes aside, fuse and seer. fuse’s bio mentions that he’s a man’s man. he, uh....uhhhh....he slaps caustic’s ass!  that counts, right? i mean, sure, it was played for a joke, but that should count. cool! those are all our hints that fuse likes men.

seer, he...um...

Seer Has Zero, Absolutely Zero, In-Game Or In-Bio Hints That He Is Attracted To Men.

starting with fuse first: fuse’s bio is so vague that people had to ask if he liked men. some people were convinced that ‘man’s man’ just meant he was a dude-bro or a super macho guy. even now some still interpret that line that way, and you have to pull up tweets from a developer at respawn to even know that fuse likes men. now, to be fair, fuse doesn’t really have any flirty lines with women, so it’s not really fair to complain that he doesn’t flirt with men, right? and besides, he seems taken with bloodhound, so why have him flirt with guys and gals at all?

seer is where we have a problem.

seer openly flirts with loba and lifeline, and maybe even rampart, too, if you choose to look at their interactions that way. he is very open with himself and others, and aside from the theory that he and octane are ex-boyfriends--which is just that, a theory--there is zero hint that seer is attracted to men. he flirts with no men, his bio makes no mention of it, and he hasn’t even received a single lick of lore for me to complain that his lore doesn’t show that he likes men, either, but all the same.

seer is FLIRTY. seer flirts with women. so why can’t he flirt with men?

it’s hard to tell that the mlm of apex are mlm. even with all the excuses in the world, that some of them aren’t the flirty types or relationship-oriented, when a mlm who IS flirty is added to the cast they still don’t have him flirt with men. the mlm of apex are so sanitized that when you post a pride picture including all LGBT+ legends, half the comments don’t know that 2 of our 3 confirmed mlm even like men.

now let’s talk about bangalore and mirage.

bangalore is much more subtle than loba and valk--in fact, some people are quite convinced she’s straight based off what she said about loba, but there are still hints to her attraction to women. she lets slip a mention of ‘her’, hinting to wraith in season 9 that she has feelings for loba. she’s upset when loba starts dating valk. her chronicles voice-act a bit from the overtime comics where she and loba agree to a date. she’s one of three key characters locked in a sapphic love triangle--to the point that the other half of the comments under that post are asking where bangalore is amongst the LGBT+ legends.

bangalore’s sexuality, while unconfirmed, still shows her attraction to women.

fun fact: did you know that the lore about mirage getting high and fucking a pumpkin by mistake and being super embarrassing for him was actually originally about mirage getting high and fucking a man by mistake and being super embarrassing?!

did you know that in a tweet where it’s stated that wattson and wraith have canonically fallen in love in several different universes, it’s also stated that about a dozen universes ‘involve’ crypto and mirage--but they also all involve a pumpkin?

mirage’s sexuality line was immediately turned into the butt of a long-tired pumpkin-fucking joke, with zero hints before or since that he is actually maybe interested in men, and the pumpkin thing actually ended up having originally been a joke about how embarrassing it is to accidentally be gay--and this all culminates in two different (albeit former) devs saying that mirage is a straight man.

and this is the same mirage who has talked about his ex, flirted with women, and mentioned how into girls he is. his mom even mentions it, too.

listen, i’m not saying i want him to be bi or gay. the opposite, in fact. but mirage’s sexuality and the potential of him being attracted to men is treated like a joke, and it turns out that there’s never been anything to grasp at all.

the wlw of apex are allowed to be just that: women who love women. valkyrie, unapologetically, loves girls. loba seems to have a preference for women. bangalore has feelings for loba. they’re stuck in this stupid love triangle that’s in your face and obnoxious and uncomfortable but they are so undeniably gay that it makes looking at apex’s mlm actually kind of sad.

gibraltar and his boyfriend were relegated to twitter comics after season 7, where their most explicit references to romance--their kiss--occured, out of game, and neither of them have done anything in lore since. fuse and seer are confined to twitter mentions only, even when it would make complete sense for seer to look at, idk, crypto or somebody and say “you are so handsome and also fucked up”.

i’m not mad that the wlw of apex have such strong rep. i’m just sad that the mlm of apex are hidden away, tucked into the hardest places to find lore, and even when their attraction to men is in-game, it’s so safe and sanitized that you could almost trick yourself into believing they’re not really gay, they’re just really good friends--or maybe their attraction to men is the punchline of a joke.

i’m not here to discuss why this happens--homophobia, the fetishization of sapphic women for the male audience--i’m just here to discuss that it *does* happen, and i hope that seer gets a super cool boyfriend one day.

[plz dont use the q word in notes/tags of this post i will be blocking u if u do not respect my wishes thanks]

[druidgroves]

😒 💀 👻 👀 💩 for Georgia + one oc of your choice

thank you bo !! georgia + allison bc they're og babygirls

get to know people in my oc's life

😒 …someone my muse hates.

The obvious answer for Georgia is Kellogg. Not a very interesting answer, but she hates the guy more than she's ever hated anything. Vault-Tec may have changed the trajectory of her life forever via cryo, but Kellogg tore it apart in front of her & inflicted so much trauma. We're getting closer to her fight with him in BLP & I am so excited lmao.

Allison hates Cullen with a passion. His "mages aren't people like you and me" comment pushed what would have been regular hatred of a templar into burning rage. She doesn't wanna be the exception. Being a mage is who she is & she's still a person despite it. When she visits Skyhold later on she definitely brings it up in front of the Inquisitor & the rest of their advisors, just to be petty.

💀 …someone my muse would kill for.

Without a doubt Georgia would & has killed for her son. The first time it was Kellogg, before she knew Shaun grew up & eventually figured out the ten year old she saw in his memories & inside the Institute was a synth. Even after she takes in synth!Shaun, by the end of the game she's already sold herself as the kind of person who wants to make the world a safer place for her family by any means.

Allison is kind of in the same boat--she's killed for family & for friends. She values her relationships to the rest of the Kirkwall crew highly & like. All of their personal quests involve some sort of killing lmao. She killed people in pursuit of her baby brother when he got nabbed. Allison repeatedly & willingly puts herself on the line for those she loves.

👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend.

Georgia's bestie is a hard tie between Preston & Piper. Preston was there from the beginning & they leaned on each other a lot in the early days after she left the vault. He taught her the basics of surviving in the new world she found herself in & she served as inspiration to keep going for him. He's her right hand man & she probably trusts him the most out of all of her companions. Piper serves best as a friend Georgia can chill out & gossip with, the kind of friend she sorely needed before the bombs. Piper is funny & loud & unafraid to be herself or express her opinions & Georgia truly admires that about her.

Allison's best friend is, of course, Varric. He talks about her like she hung the moon & Allison made him the fucking godfather of her child. She loves the man like family. Besides Varric, though, since he's the obvious choice, I think her next best friend would be Isabela. She's the most chill out of all the companions & the best at providing a break when Allison needs one. She also loves hearing about Bela's time at sea :)

👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust.

Georgia likes Deacon but doesn't trust him as far as she can throw him (on account of the fact that he was technically stalking her even if it was for "the greater good"). She thinks he's funny & likes hanging out with him on Railroad stuff, but she basically treats him like a coworker.

Allison likes but does not trust Sebastian. Tbh I haven't really played much with him all that much but even if I did, his (admittedly somewhat understandable) reaction at the end of Act 3 would be her cut off point. Threaten her lover like that after years of being friends with her? You're done lmao. Post-DA2 Allison sees Sebastian as former friend but now a distant threat (distant so long as she & Anders can keep safe in hiding).

💩 …someone my muse dislikes, but admires.

Georgia & Cait don't get along very well due to opposing personalities & morals, but Georgia does admire her! Cait is everything Georgia isn't: tough, strong, & doesn't fall to social pressures. Georgia sees traits in Cait that she wishes came easier to her & in a way she's kind of jealous.

Allison isn't too fond of Samson for obvious reasons (since he is an ex-templar) but admires the fact that he put his neck on the line to assist mages. Overall she thinks he's pretty skeevy but overlooks that fact whenever they interact over the course of the game. If/when she got the news that he was leading the Red Templars for Corypheus, any goodwill she had left was probably diminished.

[memento-morri-writes]

hi! could you do sopa de letras and pho for the soup ask game? have a great day! <3

Of course I can, Briar!!!! <3333

Pho: Describe your ideal writing set up.

So, honestly I do my best writing when I'm not intending to. Like, I write whenever the inspiration strikes me, if I'm in a place where I can. I've written MULTIPLE scenes at 3am before when I can't sleep. But most of my writing happens on the floor of my bedroom, lmao. I don't write as often as I like to, because I can't really force myself to write. But when I do write, I almost always have music playing in my headphones, or at the very least it's otherwise quiet. And I have my doc open and basically nothing else. It's in it's own window if I'm in google docs in effort to minimize distractions. Because oh my god am I easily distracted.

Okay, so Sope De Letras (aka, alphabet soup) is going under the cut, because it's LONG. This is one I already wrote an answer two last night, so I have it prepared, but it's a LOT.

(TW for abuse mention and murder mention under the cut)

Sopa De Letra: Tell us about a character's family.

So, I’m going to answer this about Kristopher’s family, because they’re the biggest bunch of pricks known to man.  Since he was 6th (last) in line for the throne, everyone, above all his family, treated him as useless.  He was extra, unwanted, unnessaccary.  His dad is absolutely an evil asshole, and can burn in hell.  He tried to have Kris killed when he was TEN.  And the rest of his family isn’t much better.  His brothers’ favorite activity is pushing Kris around, and they pride themselves on being better at him than everything.  So much so that despite the fact that he is a MUCH better swordsman than any of them, and can kick their asses in his sleep (And frequently literally does.), any time there is a tournament or competition of any sort, it’s either rigged for Kris to lose, or he is excluded altogether.

His family does have one saving grace, however, and that is his older sister.  She was the only one who was ever kind to Kris, and they were pretty close.  That is until she was married off to a distant noble, sent away to a life she never wanted, without a say in the matter.  Kris resents his parents even more because of this.

To add to the family drama, Kristopher’s uncle, Victor (his father’s brother), was exiled to the Southern Isles years ago after attempting a coup to overthrow Pierre (Kristopher’s father).  Don’t make the mistake of assuming that that makes him a better person.  He attempted the coup because he did not agree with his brother’s plan to uphold the peace treaty with Anvia.  He currently heads a group of rebels who have been continually causing chaos by raiding Anvian farms and villages along the Southern Pass.  It is rumored that this is the same group with whom Fallon’s father, Wymond was plotting.

Thanks again for the ask, Briar!! <333

[lazaruspitreborn]

[talk about Dick, Jason, I dare you >w>]

@dramatisperscnae

"Bruce had a reason or two to put so much trust in him and compare every single Robin that came after with him. There's a reason we call him the Golden Boy, he's everything Bruce wanted from the rest of us and more, if I take in consideration what I had the chance to read of old reports in the batcomputer. Dick's proven himself time and again in intellect and skillset with multiple and diverse groups of people.

Mister Nice Guy. Goodie two shoes. The perfect successor and son... He didn't leave a lot of space for a street rat such as myself to even begin to make a dent on those high expectations Bruce had. I remember it bothering me to my core and breaking part of my heart when I was Robin, whenever we were compared. 'Dick would've done it the right way!' Bruce yelled this to my face so many times, even though I got the same results, because it wasn't Dick, it wasn't right. I got numb from hearing that at some point and just accepted that I'd never be good enough - alas, I'm too stubborn to simply let it die, so it became a personal, silent war in my head.

And Dick wasn't exactly all that present to help fix things up with me. I mean, he was around here and there, he still visited and there were times when it was nice, when he gave me some attention and we had a moment or two to catch up, but if I have to estimate, seven or eight times out of ten he visited there would be headbutting between him and Bruce. Guess who was left to take the rest of Batman's discontentment once Dick was gone again? Yeah, me. Rinse and repeat it over the few years I carried the Robin mantle until my death. He was always too busy to catch up as Dick, I knew him better as Nightwing or as Robin from the stories I was told than as Dick Grayson, the man.

I don't like to talk about it, but his absence hurt me. Call it a sort of puppy love, but when Bruce first told me about Dick, I was all excited to meet him - I mean, coming from where I came from, the prospect of an awesome big brother sounded amazing, I couldn't wait to spend my days with him. It just never happened though, and I never truly figured how to put into words the hurt of him never really being there felt like... but I'm happy whatever experience he had with me, helped him become a better big brother and inspiring figure to Tim. They seem to have something nice going on.

As for nowadays, it's complicate. He triggers a lot of my fight or flight instincts with how careless he is when we're not talking of missions, and even then, there are times when things escalat and the tension is palpable for everyone to feel. Dick gets on my nerves with how he tries to dance around certain topics and it just — Ugh! Just thinking of it gets me pissed off! It's irritating to be constantly playing twenty-questions with him, or reminding him that I died, therefore I wasn't there for this or that. He makes me feel ever more excluded when he does these things.

But it's not to say we don't have nice moments, when it happens, it's good. I'm... sort of warming up to having him around, it's nice when he can stay quiet and still for longer than ten seconds, and sharing meals isn't so bad when he does all the talking and I can just sit and listen. His attempts of teasing me about how I like to read and have a decent level of expertise on symbology and linguistic are also somewhat funny, I try to take those as little compliments rather than poking fun of me — though, I was very defensive about it at first.

I guess, the summary of it all is that he hurt me bad enough when I was younger that I'm reticent to let him in as easy now, I feel safer when he's, on a metaphorical level, at arms length distance from me. Don't truly want him gone anymore though, just... kind of less over me, since he hardly ever acknowledged me before my death and it feels like this now is just a cope out mechanism to crudely try to make up for that. It's just hard and exhausting, and we need breaks from each other when it becomes too much, but we're trying and putting some effort into finding a middle ground for now.

Hopefully things will get better between us, or so I wish for, because I can't believe everyone else is wrong about him. I want to lean into the reasonable doubt and say that it's more possible that all the emotional pain made my view of him skewed."

[sohotthateveryonedied]

so i’m trying to write duke and i don’t think i’m writing him right. how would you describe his personality because with don’t trust fanon lmfaooo

(this was only supposed to be a paragraph or two i swear to god)

1. first things first, duke is a hardcore gryffindor. don’t let the yellow color scheme mislead you, okay. and while most of the time he’s depicted in fanon as “omg this family is crazy and i’m the only sane one,” it’s actually pretty much the opposite? if anything, i think the other batkids would be like “oh finally, someone who can match our level of chaotic energy. HEY DUKE WANNA BUNGEE JUMP OFF WAYNE TOWER—” and an hour later they’d all be in the batcave getting lectured by bruce for leading poor sweet innocent duke astray when really he was already planning on doing that this weekend.

listen, this is the kid who once jumped off a bridge to escape police. this is the dude who decided to fight criminals while they’re still eating their wheaties at 6am in a bright yellow suit. and while duke seems to be the best at following bruce’s command at the moment due to having been trained by him most recently compared to the others and is still figuring out how to be a hero, i’m positive that if bruce weren’t here to guide him, duke would be running around gotham taking down criminals anyway. i mean, he literally did do that with the “we are robin” kids. plus there was the whole thing when he was like ten years old and decided “i am going to singlehandedly stop the riddler in my light up sketchers and pikachu backpack. try and stop me.” 

duke is headstrong and has a strong drive toward heroism. he’s an extremely enthusiastic and passionate person in general, and i try to capture a little of that when i write him, even with mundane things like trying to beat his siblings to the last cupcake. 

2. another thing i noticed is that duke swears like a sailor in comics? seriously, this boy could give jason a run for his money with how many “@#!%” speech bubbles there are. i don’t know if this is just a trend the writers added in the comics i’ve read of him, or if it’s a genuine trait throughout every comic he’s in, but that’s something to make note of when writing dialogue for duke. after all, he did grow up in the narrows, so it makes sense that he’d use a lot of swearing and slang in his everyday vernacular.

3. i would also make a point of noting that duke is fairly young compared to the rest of the batfamily, being the second youngest after damian. duke is still a teenager in high school, and he acts like it. he’s got homework and friends and is eager to make a difference in gotham, trying to juggle everything and make it all work somehow. he’s stubborn and doesn’t give up easily, so it’s important to write him as someone who is trying to save the world while also struggling with finding time to study for his next math test. he's human. he doesn’t get to dedicate all of his time to fighting crime like cass or jason might be able to, since duke is still a mostly normal teenager with teenager problems.

4. and don’t forget that unlike the other batkids, duke still has two living parents. sure, they’re jokerized and might not ever be the same again, but they’re alive and that’s what holds him back from letting himself get as close to the waynes as he wants to. duke won’t be calling bruce “dad” anytime soon, and i think he’d have some internal struggle over stuff like holidays and birthdays with the waynes, remembering what his parents are missing out on and wondering if joining the wayne family is a betrayal to them. duke is very conflicted over this, even if he doesn’t say it directly. stuff like ducking out of movie night early or feeling a bittersweet pang during thanksgiving dinner makes sense for someone in his situation. 

(i usually ignore that aspect in my fics because i want duke to just be adopted and part of the family already, but not everyone does that, and that’s perfectly fine.)

5. honestly, duke is such a caring individual and we as a fandom need more of him being a shoulder for people to lean on because he’s?? so soft?? duke can be so sympathetic and rational when it comes to emotional problems. it seems like duke internalizes every bit of advice he gets from the people around him and uses it to inspire others and help them through their own problems. as tough and hotheaded as duke can sometimes be, he really is good when it comes to emotions.

6. duke is a smartass. he will 100% use sarcasm against any and every authority figure he meets, usually just for the hell of it. 

7. he’s very frank in general, usually the first to be like “okay full disclosure, we’re about to die right now. that sucks. anyway—” in a situation. he’s honest and tends to be upfront about his fears/anxieties, usually for comic relief, but i think it still counts.

8. okay i have to add that duke is also kind of a punk? he and jason have a lot in common because of this: they both grew up in one of gotham’s worse areas (jay in crime alley and duke in the narrows) and they’re both highkey deliquents. duke has no problem getting into fights or talking back to authority figures, and it’s gotten him in hot water on more than one occasion. it’s why he kept getting moved around the foster system before bruce took him in because no one wanted to keep him.

9. he’s also gotten so close with the other batkids and we love to see it!! duke calls cass “sis” and treats damian like the annoying little brother he never had and i adore every second of it. we haven’t gotten a lot of interactions between duke and the others aside from training and stuff, but he and jason have the whole “punk kid who got adopted by batman and is baffled by how rich people live” going for them, so they can bond over that. and duke is a thinker like tim, so they can hang out and do puzzles or play chess or whatever it is that smart people do. (and duke and steph are BESTIES i don’t care what anyone says.)

10. most of all, duke is still learning how the whole hero thing works. he’s young and he’s trying his best, but he also makes mistakes. he will be impulsive and screw up, and he’ll try and merge the lessons batman’s taught him and that his parents taught him and that other heroes teach him until it all makes sense in his own mind. duke isn’t experienced like dick or even damian, so he’s going to be lagging behind for a while until he grows until the role he’s made for himself.

other miscellaneous details to include: 

- duke is dating izzy, who used to be part of the “we are robin” gang with him - he used to live at the manor and now lives with his cousin jay, but honestly i just have him living at the manor in everything i write because i like it better that way - he can control shadows and light now! what a king! - duke secretly writes poetry and is good at creative writing in general  - this:

- duke is super smart?? he figured out that agent 37 was dick grayson without even trying?? i’m so proud of him - his biological father is this supervillain called gnomon so now duke has got four parents: his mom, his dad, his supervillain dad, and bruce (plus selina if you count her as the batkids’ stepmom, which i do) - jason calls him “narrows” and i love that

- and, lastly, the most important panel in the history of comics:

[hewhofightsbythesword]

scotch or irish? tommy shelby x reader

warning/s: underage drinking, swearing, violence, and slight smut

 inspired by disco pigs (2001) 

A/N: I was really high when I came up this idea. Even wrote it while I was high, but I couldn’t find it the next mirning. Wasn’t sure if I really wrote it or if it was a dream. Either way, it’s here lol After like two weeks. Sowwyy 

Tommy and y/n. y/n and Tommy. For as long as the pair can remember, that’s the way it has always been. Born only a few months apart, the two created an instant bond so strong that Aunt Polly said it would transcend through many lifetimes. And of course, Aunt Polly was never wrong in the matters of the heart. This was a friendship full of heart, romantic and platonic love for there was not one without the rest. Tommy’s mother would say to Polly, “That boy... it’s his cleverness that’ll kill him.” Martha found herself confiding in her more, so she continued, “As long as Tommy and y/n have each other... I am not worried.” And everyone knew. Everyone except Tommy and y/n.

The two had very similar minds. What one was thinking, the other was already mentally processing and vice versa. It would be almost adorable if it wasn’t so weird, as Arthur Sr. would call it. It was only weird because they were so smart. Against everybody else (even Polly at times, although she would never admit it), they were always two steps ahead.

From a young age the two understood their natural connection. For example, at the age of seven, Tommy and y/n planned to swear a vow of silence together that was planned to last a total of ten days. At first, y/n was met with slight worry from Tommy.

“We need code names! What should I call you if I need you?”

“You won’t have to need me, silly. That’s the whole point! I will already know, and so will you.” The logic was missing. They were both aware of this but none cared.

The goal was set for ten days. Not a single word was uttered between the kids or anyone else for that matter, aggravating the living hell out of those around them, especially Arthur who would’ve done anything to be a part of the joke. However, by day five, y/n broke the vow, rushing her feet as fast as they allowed a few houses down on Watery Lane.

That day she had heard a few of the older Lee boys, around Arthur’s age, speaking down on the Gypsy Shelby’s. y/n just had to tell Tommy or she was sure she would burst. It was also on day five Tommy came to two realizations: (1) He too would break their vow of silence. There was nothing worth doing if it meant he couldn’t do it with the person who understood him the most. (2) Tommy decided that same day that y/n, in her own right, was a Shelby too.

“Shelby,” he whispers to himself, only for him to hear.

At age 15, y/n was able to convince Tommy to steal a bottle of whiskey from the local pub. Her little hands shoved a piece of a paper with instructions in his direction. “Meet me here,” was all she told him with big eyes before he could even get a word in, running back to whatever held her short attention span. Unfolding the paper, Tommy could see a drawn out map of where to find the only girl who could keep young Tommy on his toes.

If anyone asked him, he would tell them all this was something he had to do. Many nights Arthur and Tommy had to go in all hours of the night looking for their father in pubs. One night in a drunken haze, Arthur Sr. takes his second born by the shoulders, causing him to be dragged onto the floor next to his father. He takes his boy by the face, shaking it a few times to show how serious he was trying to be.

“A man is meant to provide, always. Be a man, Thomas.”

y/n asked and Tommy planned to provide.

Seeing the large “X” marking the destination, it matched the location right before Tommy’s eyes. It was a beautiful far away, empty place from Watery Lane with lots of surrounding nature. It had just finished raining. y/n always did like the way the rain made the earth smell.

She notices her friend right away and runs up to him. y/n takes him by the hand. “I found my favorite tree here. Come on,” she says very nonchalantly.

Tommy shakes his head behind her. “Of course you did, Shelby. Of course you did.”

y/n often thought the world moved too slow for her liking. She always liked to be out and about. Always wild, never to be tamed. She figures that’s why she likes the Shelby’s so much. She was blessed to find a family early in her life that matched her soul. Except, she knows why she likes Tommy so much. He liked to be wild too. He moved just as fast as y/n, and he thought just as fast as her. So there was no doubt in her mind once she tasked her best friend with the alcohol that he'd deliver.

“I just took the first one I saw and ran like hell.” He presents y/n the bottle.

“Scotch whiskey,” y/n reads the label out loud before opening it. Tommy at this point began to see the trouble that she carried within her starting to stir. Confirming this intuitive feeling, y/n goes to make a quick toast like the kind she has seen her father make with Tommy’s. “To your Aunt Pol who would kill you if she ever knew, Thomas Shelby,” she groans out as she takes the first large swing with the most confidence. Even from when they were children, Tommy always wondered how so much confidence could fit in such a small body.

He takes the bottle from her to mimic her actions. “To my Aunt Polly who will find out by the week’s end.” They both laugh before Tommy takes his sip, but when he does, he takes it differently than y/n. “What the fuck, y/n. How can you even drink that shit?” He spits and coughs as he attempts to recover.

“What? I like it.” She shrugs while going for another.

At age 18, Tommy realized he loved y/n. By the time Tommy turned eighteen, it came to no surprise to anyone that he was already turning out to be a ladies man. Girls turning into young women were quick to notice his dark hair and hypnotic blue eyes. He was different than any of the factory worker boys that took after their fathers. He was ambitious. He wanted more to life than what dirty old Birmingham could offer, and the young women knew this so in some way, it even made it seem okay that his last name was Shelby. Almost as if Tommy was being pardoned for being a Shelby. And he hated that feeling.

y/n never made Tommy feel that way. She was always the first and the last one to defend her friend since birth. Crowned by Tommy all those years ago, she was Shelby. What else could have made her break her vow with Tommy all those years ago? Tommy didn’t realize exactly what he was realizing at the time. How could he? They were kids being kids. He couldn’t have known it was loyalty. If it wasn’t clear to Tommy then, it was now.

“You need to get out of here. Go get Arthur and John. This is no place for a woman,” Tommy warns y/n one night out, sensing trouble.

The two found themselves cornered by a group of boys around their age. The Peaky Blinders were gaining respect, notoriety, and fear from those around them. Things were changing for the Shelby’s, but not everyone agreed. Most certainly not the three boys looking for a fight. “Run!”

“No!” She hisses back. She tightens her fist and holds them up.

“There is no fucking way I’m letting you do this.”

“Either I leave to get the boys and we come back to your half-dead body, if we’re lucky or I stay and fight and we may actually win this.” Truth be told, y/n wished she could listen to Tommy and go get his brothers. But more than the fear she felt for herself, it was tenfold for Tommy.

“Damn you, Shelby.” he tells her as the fight breaks out.

No words were exchanged on the walk to The Garrison. It seemed like all of the day’s events were forcing Tommy to think about the vow they made when they were seven. Only this time, Tommy could see the logic she proposed. He did know what she was thinking because he was so sure she was thinking the same as him.

“Whiskey, Harry,” was all Tommy said, not bothering to spare the man a glance. y/n goes to sit at a table like they always do but was stopped by Tommy. He latches onto her hand, careful with the cuts and bruises that were beginning to form. “No,” he tells her, “We’ll be in the snug.” And no one protested. They may have wanted to but at the sight of blood on their clothes and on his razor blade, no one dared to speak out against the Blinder.

Not long after Harry delivers two glasses of whiskey through the snug’s window. “Give the toast, Shelby,” he gives the cup to y/n.

Her eyes never leave his. Even with exhaustion hijacking them, y/n could not name a more beautiful sight. “To you, Tommy. To the best and worst pal in the world.”

In his state of shock, Tommy failed to clink their glasses together, so y/n did it. The sound pulls him out of his own swirling thoughts, and they down their drink in an instant. Like the siamese twins they are, a look of disgust and twinge of horror overtake their faces.

“Scotch.”

“Irish.”

They both spit out like venom but were quick to laugh it off. “You gave me the wrong cup, Thomas!”

“Hey, come on now. I’m still Tommy. I’m just a bloody idiot for not knowing the difference.”

Only a few moments later, the laughing winds down a bit. The atmosphere still remains light only to be shattered. “Why don’t you love me?” He blurts out to y/n. “Like the way I love you?”

y/n’s content smile never falters. “I believe you have been too busy to notice me, Tommy. I’ve been right here. Because if you would have just asked, I would’ve said I loved you too. And I do... love you too.”

He smiles at her. “The best and worst pal in the world.”

y/n could feel her heart begin to hammer against her chest. She no longer felt like she was sitting down but floating. With the adrenaline from the fight gone, she should have been able to feel her wounds mark their place on her skin. But that’s not true. All she could feel was a warm, tight feeling in her chest. The boy she loved, loved her back. And no amount of irish whiskey could ever compare.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.”

Tommy’s eyes searched y/n’s for any trace of hesitance or fraud but found none. All he could see were the eyes of the girl he loved the most. And most importantly, the girl loved him back.

He stands up to speak to Harry through the snug’s window and comes back shortly after. “Come here, Shelby.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss the only girl in all of Small Heath that I love.” At that, y/n had no protests.

Their kiss was nothing less of what the two expected. It wasn't awkward. Nerve wracking, sure, but not awkward. Many nights y/n dreamt about this very moment. She dreamt how Tommy’s lips would feel against hers. She often wondered what kind of lover he was. And now she knows, leaving her with no more thoughts to wonder about.

She is the first one to pull away. “I have loved you since we were seven and you called me “Shelby” for the first time.” She places desperate kisses onto his lips, cheeks, and neck. Anywhere they would fall, really, leaving traces of pure love behind.

Tommy feels like he is starting to lose control once her pillow soft lips attack his neck. “Tell me again, y/n. Let me hear you.”

“I love you,” She reminds him in between her kisses.

“Shelby... if you keep doing that, I’m not sure how much gentleman will be left in me.”

She looks up from the spot on his neck she was loving on, having found his sweet spot. “This one? Right here?” She asks, feigning innocence as she lightly bites down. When she hears his soft moan, her tongue laps at the spot relieving it only to finish off with a few kisses.

Before the last one can even land, Tommy’s hand finds her neck to take control once more. He doesn’t squeeze nor does he have a rough hold. He merely wraps his fingers around the neck he will one day dress in the biggest jewels. Tommy guides y/n to the edge of the table and pushes her to lay on it.

“Here, Tommy?” She giggles watching her best friends crawl on top of her

He shushes her with more wet kisses. “No one will come in. It’s just me and you.” His hands caress, squeeze, and tease whatever he can.

“It’s yours, Tommy, my heart. It’s all yours.”

He wraps his hand under her hair that was sprawled over the table into a makeshift ponytail. “Mine,” he proves when he finally feels all of her. His eyes never hers, wanting to sear the memory of the exact moment she became his. Pain overtakes her face but her hands on his lower back right above his ass lets him know she was okay. After a while, y/n signals Tommy to start moving once more and pain starts to transform into a pleasure y/n never thought was possible.

All the sounds the two were making were sure to be drowned out by the ruckus made by the drunk men just outside the snug. Tommy was sure to tell Harry that no one else was allowed in under any circumstances. In his moment of euphoria, Tommy was ready to wet his razor blade for the second time that night should anyone dare barge in and take a look at what belonged to him.

This wasn’t Tommy’s first time but it was the first time he realized all what sex could be. All the men in his life were wrong. He was wrong. It didn’t have to be all what they said it should. All he ever needed was y/n. Now that he had her, he had no intention of ever letting go.

Basking in the momentary afterglow of his best orgasm, he says, “You know what, Shelby? I don’t think I mind scotch whiskey all that much anymore,” his thumb traces y/n lower lip, even getting it slightly moist, “Not when the taste comes from your lips. My lips.”

[wandsandwheezes]

NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely​ and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’ 

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush  into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.” 

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference. 

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother. 

So why was that feeling still there? 

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in. 

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George. 

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear. 

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs. 

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes. 

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?” 

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.” 

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George. 

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.” 

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.” 

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.” 

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty. 

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck. 

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half. 

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him. 

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride. 

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother. 

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?” 

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong? 

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal. 

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused. 

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor. 

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband. 

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?” 

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around. 

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet. 

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this. 

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line. 

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist. 

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?” 

— 

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees. 

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car. 

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.” 

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.” 

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands. 

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat. 

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this. 

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him. 

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly. 

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her. 

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye. 

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again. 

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him. 

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt. 

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there. 

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away. 

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more. 

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.” 

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.” 

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle. 

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit. 

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you. 

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin. 

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone. 

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could. 

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident. 

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?” 

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin. 

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary. 

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling. 

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.” 

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.” 

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?” 

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N //  so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley​

[lebenspurpur]

nocturnal - Vincent Sinclair

Pairing: Vincent Sinclair x reader

Summary: This is so poetic idek

Warnings: None 

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I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.

-- Vincent Van Gogh

Sunlight.

What an interesting topic.

It emerges from so far away human metric systems can't even describe the distance but somehow it still binds us to life. Without the touch of the sun's golden arms, we vanish.

It can kill as well. Sometimes the big star seems to be angry at us frail humans. Then it scorches down, its usual warmth gone and replaced by glazing heat.

I like to believe that the sun is like a mother to us.

Have you ever listened to a pregnant woman talk? Yes?

Then you know what I am talking about. They glow. As if the second life chained to their bodies sets them alight.

The sun glows as well. Maybe not in the same way a pregnant woman does but the star definitely does glow.

When mother sun is happy with us she gives us treats, warm days with enough wind to cool us down, protect us. When mother is angry she destroys everything that can shield us. Her fury is then inevitable.

But the sun is also dishonest. Her warm embrace is slowly destroying our home. I suppose her love is just too big.

And well if the sun is our mother, the moon is our father.

He guards us when mama can't. His arms aren't warm, they're cold and white. Somehow serene.

In my imagination mama wears a yellow suit. Her hair is the prettiest shade of orange, a nice and somber shade of marmalade. She's wearing her favorite sunglasses, red triangles to make her look like one of 'em hippies back before my time.

Papa wears a long, silver dress. It swivels around his feet when he moves and I can't help but marvel at the smooth movements of the cloth. A tiara is seated on his midnight-blue hair. It's silver and it shimmers like a thousand stars are kept in its crystals.

When mama laughs, birds start to sing and chirp. The plants lift their head to admire her white smile and the animals wake from their slumber to pay their respects.

When papa cries, his tears rain down on us. When they hit the shell our planet is kept in, they paint it in all kinds of colors. People travel miles to see papa cry.

There surely are thousands of other mama's and papa's out there. Thousand other children.

"You look sleepy."

"I'm not. I just feel peaceful."

We're silent. I can hear him breathing slowly. It is hoarse and raspy, like always.

He is in pain as well. I can feel his muscles, tense from being in pain. It must be horrible to have a constant ache in your throat.

I want to help him. I always wanted to. And helping him has been the biggest journey of my life.

The road has been long and bumpy at its best. Sometimes it completely stops and we have to turn around and find another way.

But we're slowly getting better at walking. Now it doesn't matter if the road's bumpy anymore. Maybe we will also get new shoes.

"What are you thinking about?"

I smile.

"You. I am thinking about you."

He moves over to me. I can feel him sitting down behind me. His thighs creep up next to mine. Seconds later I feel two arms envelop me.

His nimble fingers trace my hips without a care in the world, they keep on exploring my body like they help him see. Ten little eyes, one for each finger. Or more, who knows? Perhaps one finger has more than just one eye.

He sighs. The hot puff of air rushes past my ear. It toys with my hair for a second and leaves me again. Vincent's chin takes its place next to my face.

His skin is smooth against my face, I wonder how he keeps it so clean. It's cold as well indicating that he just entered the house.

"What did you do today?"

"I made a new statue."

Vincent works as a sculptor. That way he only needs wax and his hands to stay occupied. He has the talent and idea from his momma. She had the plan to make a giant house, purely out of wax!

Vincent is currently working on his momma's dream. His twin Bo is helping him. I can't visit it yet. Vincent says it's still not finished and he's a perfectionist.

Well that's not what he said. Vincent said everything should be perfect for me. So I have to wait until the house is perfect. I can't wait to be a witness of his life's work.

"Of whom?"

"No one particular. It was inspired by a hitchhiker Bo picked up last week though."

"Can I be there with you someday? When you make one?"

"As soon as it is safe I will gladly take you with me, love."

His voice calms me immensely and I lean my head back. A raw chuckle can be heard from Vincent.  

"Did you ever make a statue of me?"

"At least a hundred."

Vincent often tells me that I'm his muse. His favorite piece of art. I suppose that's how artists compliment someone.

"Is everyone doing okay? How is Bo?"

He usually talks a lot about his brother. Bo is very important to him.

Unfortunately I've never met Bo before. Vincent says he is a busy man since he's the only one in Ambrose who really has a job and all. Apparently Bo's gas station is the only one in a hundred miles radius.  People often visit the city and he has to help them all the time.

It's slowly getting dark. I know it's true because the crickets outside are louder than before. It must be nearing 10 pm.

I yawn as I feel my exhausted bones ache for rest.

"For someone who's not tired you do sound a bit sleepy."

"Perhaps I am a little bit tired."

I soon fall asleep, my head seated on his shoulder, his long hair being my pillow.

Vincent carries me to our room, he puts the crutches away and kisses the lids over my sightless orbs to sleep.

Vincent is the sun to my moon.

[alreadyblondenow]

Paint the lot red | Qian Kun

Qian Kun x Reader  

▸ FLUFF, ANGST, Smut, Vampire au ▸ Part of the Stephen King’s collab, hosted by @starryqian​ & @takitaro​ ▸ Inspired by Stephen King’s, Salem’s Lot 

Summary: Kun is a vampire, buying humans in exchange for immortality. He wanted to buy you and your house, but love changes everything. Convincing each other to be something you’re not. Kun wants to turn you into a vampire, but you want him to embrace being a human. Will Kun leave his family for you? Or you will accept the immortality he offers?

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of car crash, family loss, Vanilla sex, depression from family loss, bloodsucking, virginity loss, unprotected sex, swearing, major character death, blood, mentions of alcohol, depression

A/N: Salem’s Lot is a handful but great book. I can’t follow the entire plot of Stephen King’s work, so heres my version of it. This is also inspired by Vampires VS. The Bronx... HAHAHA so, here. And sorry if the ending is SLIGHTLY close to my Jaehyun’s Body, but I plotted this first so 🤷🏼‍♀️ 

Tag list: @jimjamjaemin @inseonqt @thefouranemoi @jaehyunoos @sunshinedhyuck @neospirited @shanghai-lu @loeygotospacenow @mal-nakamoto23 @svteencarat @commentgirl @yukine-smx​ (I hope I did not missed anyone)

NEWS FLASH: The family of the famous writer Y/N, died in a car crash on their way to the airport for a family trip to Hawaii. All four passengers are dead on arrival including the driver. The funeral will be closed and private, as per the writer Y/N’s request.  

The sky has your favorite shade of orange when you arrived at the house. Home, you thought. Always the same big house that you grew up to. It’s been almost ten years since you step foot in this house and seeing it again for the first time made you regret every Christmas that you purposely missed just so you can avoid spending time with your family. And besides feeling that you’re home, you feel regret suffocating you. What was I thinking, you murmured. This house used to be filled with laughter and happiness. Nights where you and your family will watch TV together in the living room with all the lights closed, countless meals together and talking about random stuff while eating, drinking coffee with your mother, playing board games with your brother. But now, the house is filled with dust and despair.

The house feels cold and dirty but either way, it’s what you need. You would rather feel the emptiness of this big house and miss your family than be alone in your apartment. Maybe being home can make you write something worth reading for again, maybe being home will help you be alive again. Losing your whole family is a different kind of pain. The word ‘alone’ does not cover what you’re feeling right now.

It has been nine months since the accident but the sad news is still fresh in your heart that sometimes when you remember it, you just turned into stone and start crying out of nowhere. Thankfully, the town was understanding enough about what you’re going through in life. They were all careful not to make you remember your family’s death, and made sure to take care of you in ways that they can.

“I see some stores are closing? What happened to Miguel’s Ice Cream shop?” you asked Sophie, the owner of the small grocery store in town. You’ve known her since you were just a little girl, and your mother and father helped her grow her business.

“Well, since your father’s death there's this vampire family who’s been buying the whole town. One by one, Qian Properties. Offering money and immortality as payments” she says. The worry in her tone is quite evident as if she knew that vampires will soon knock on her store and offer her the same thing. Money and immortality.

After your family’s passing, the world has gone mad like they took every good thing from this world with them on their graves. Crazy how in nine months the things that are used to be fiction like vampires, are now the new normal. Everything happened so fast. Their kind grew and grew and now their population covers over almost 1/4 of the world. Vampires school, condominiums for vampires, hotel ran by vampires, humans being vampires. It’s crazy. But even though the world has gone mad, it doesn’t bother you because the pain that you’re dealing with right now is taking too much of your sanity.

As months slowly pass by, even though you hate writing right now, you still try and find your way back to loving what you used to do for a living. Writing was everything to you. There’s no greater feeling than sharing something you’ve created to the world, show it entirely, and watch the people love every bit of that thick thing we called a book. You lost your spark with writing when the accident happened and it changed your life. Everything you published became the talk of the world, people hating it and blaming what happened to your family. It was your darkest time. Losing your family and watching your career end.

You type, delete over and over again, and tried writing your feelings away until you see the sun setting again. A good reminder to call it a day. Then someone rang your doorbell. You quickly grabbed your robe and make your way downstairs, you see a man’s figure on the other side of the gate, wearing a nice suit, black trousers, and nice leather shoes.

“Good evening. I hope I did not interrupt you, I’m Qian Kun” he offered his hand for you to shake it which you accepted with a straight face. Qian. The family name of the vampires who are buying properties in this town and you’re not stupid to not know what he came here for. You wanted to shoo him away and tell him that you’re not interested in anything that he will offer. You have a lot of money and you don’t need immortality.

You crossed your arms and waited for him to talk more. “May I come in? I’m looking forward to this meeting for quite some time now” he says. You turned around and did not say anything but left the gate wide open. “Please” he added and he sounded desperate.

“Mr. Qian, I left the door open. What are you waiting for?”

“I- I suppose you don’t know that vampires cannot come in unless you invite them in” you didn’t of course.

“I’m sorry. I did not know. Please come in”

When you two settled in the living room, he started the conversation by introducing himself. You notice that he’s well mannered, polite, and careful with his words. He doesn’t sound fake like the monsters who pretend to care for you in the writing industry. Kun was straightforward without offending you, intimidating but not enough to make you feel small. He stated his intentions very clearly, “As a firstborn, I want my family to have a nice home. And this house is perfect. You will not be homeless, of course. We will find you a new house, cash, and immortality” he says.

You couldn’t agree more with what Kun told you. But the reason that he’s here to buy your house is something you can’t let him do. Even if he’s polite, nice, and handsome if you’re being honest. You can’t let him take away your home.

“It’s good that you love your family so much and you’re taking care of them. Something that I regret not doing” you take a sip from your coffee before you continue saying something that will bring you to tears, “are you aware that I lost my family, about a year ago?” you were calm when you said it, but it still hurt like hell. Admitting that they’re gone.

Kun was speechless. He felt like he ruined your peace and your time to mourn your family but most of all, it felt like he’s disrespecting you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know” is all he can say.

“I have way too much money and I don’t want immortality. Thank you for your offer, but this is all I’ve got”

“I cherish my family too. I have a family and we don't have a home, you don’t have a family but you have a home. Be part of us, we can be your family”

You got offended, but still, there’s not enough reason to burst out and be hysterical. You gave him a small smile and shook your head, “Good luck finding a home Mr. Qian. I admire you taking care of your family”

The night ended coldly, both disappointed with personal reasons. Although he felt sorry about his visit, he still got his eyes on the prize. Kun will stand his ground and will try over and over again until you say yes to his offer. You, on the other hand, don’t know why you have a soft spot for the vampire even though he already offended you. Maybe it’s because you were moved for his honest reasons that you can’t let out your anger towards him even if you force yourself. He was just trying and finding his family a stable home, no need to get mad, you said to yourself.

As days go by, the vampire did not give up as expected. He continued his visit and greet you with the sweetest smile. He tried pursuing you, giving you flowers, bringing you books to read, chocolates, fruits, anything that crosses his mind that will try to change your decision. He was desperate for his family’s sake and it was obvious.

Sophie said that Qian properties chose this place because it’s far from the city. There’s a lot of trees and the neighborhood is peaceful. “That’s why he’s desperate. Your father made this town great. Don’t let that Qian family eat up of what your father built” she says sternly.

You walked alone to your house with a bag of take out, thinking of other ways to make your meal even more delicious. Since you’re alone in life, you don’t have someone to cook you a decent meal. When you were living alone in the city, you have your manager cook you good food. But now that you’re completely alone, you just have to make the best out of this take out.

“Hi” of course the vampire waited for you to come home. You smiled and let out a small laugh because both of his hands are carrying grocery bags.

“What are you doing? I have food and enough stocks for a whole family, and I live alone” It was a joke. You giggle and opened the gate, this time you did not forget to invite him in.

“That’s not why I’m here. I’m here as a friend a new vampire friend- Let me cook for you please, I need a friend”

Hearing him say those words made you think that Kun is a blessing in disguise. Finally, decent food. You don’t want to admit but having Kun’s company tonight made you feel happy. Not genuinely happy of course, but it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Surprisingly, he’s talkative but not annoying. The words that came out from his mouth made sense to the point that you’re learning new things from him. He was right, he’s here as a friend and not as a buyer of your house.

“Why do you want my house so bad?” you asked. Stirring the spaghetti sauce that he made.

“Hmm. I thought I’m here as a friend?” he smiles and refuses to answer your question. He looked handsome up close, but his unbelievably white skin is scary. It reminded you that he’s a vampire.

“Well okay, if you don’t want to answer that question. I didn’t know vampires eat. I thought you only drink blood from humans” you quickly changed the subject so he can feel comfortable.

“I love food and I love cooking. It’s my guilty pleasure. It doesn’t make me full, but if what I made taste good then I’m satisfied” he answered your question with a big smile. Proud and happy to talk about how he loves cooking.

For someone who doesn’t have a soul, Kun is a vampire full of life. You listen to him talk about the things he sees on TV and watches his eyes show you and tell you how he’s curious about the world. He’s well aware that there's so much you can do in a lifetime, he wanted to learn many things and go around the world. He’s almost more human than you are. “Well if you have all these dreams of yours why don’t you embrace life instead of living in the shadows for your family?” you hope he answers your question this time.

“My family is more important than my dreams and my wants in life. The things that I long for will forever be in this world, but my family can die anytime-“ he realized what he just said, “I’m- I’m sorry. I got carried away. Please- Uh, how’s the food?” he tried changing the subject but it was too late.

He’s right. Everything he said is right and you’re realizing it just now, “I wish I met you before my family died. Unlike you, I chose my dreams and turned my back against my family. And now I’m regretting it. Don’t worry, you didn’t offend me and the food is great. Really great” your tone was slowly turning sad and gloomy. The vampire was quick to be concerned but he can’t do anything to help you heal. So, he changed the mood and joked about offering you immortality and you argued with him and tried convincing him to embrace being human. It was a friendly debate that made him blush and your heart flutter.

Kun hates lying, even to himself. As he listens and watches you speak very closely while you drink your wine, he's slowly liking you and he's not afraid of what he's feeling right now. He loves how you talk about the things you've experienced already like he's listening to a book about wonders. You must be a great writer. The whole time you were talking about your first book to him, he was really impressed by your talent but he can't listen to you further. Instead, he just admired you closely.      

Then he kissed you.

He noticed how your lips were plump and red because of the red wine and the kiss was something he can’t control because he wanted to do it. “I’m not sorry about the kiss, I wanted to do it” at least he was honest about what he feels. "Please continue your story" and so you did, but this time you were smiling from ear to ear.

Good things come to an end. You felt that you went out on a date with Kun when the night ended. You felt nothing but happiness, butterflies in your stomach, cheeks hurt because of too much smiling. He flashed those handsome dimples of his and waved goodbye to you. Neither of you wanted to end the night so early but he had to go home to his family.

The next day, while you were trying so hard to put what you feel into writing, you look over the window and hope to see Kun’s figure outside your huge gate. But no, he’s not there. Until the sun is finally setting again and the sky turned into your favorite shade of orange, you were disappointed but only for a short span of time.

The same thing happened for a week. You waited for the vampire to show up outside your gate, but he never did. Maybe he finally gave up.

One fine beautiful evening, you were reading the books Kun gave you while you enjoy a cup of warm tea then your doorbell rang three times that it almost sounded so desperate for attention. Finally, the figure that you’ve been meaning to see showed up. You welcome him in like an old friend and he greets you with an exhausted smile. He looked tired and dull you noticed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t show up for days” you haven’t seen each other for a week and the first words you heard from him are apologies. “I was busy running the family business” he clears his throat and sat comfortably on the couch.

“Which is?” you asked.

“Buying humans so my family name will forever live,” he said oh so cooly. Surprising you with honestly again that never bothered you. In fact, he continues to surprise you. “And looking for a new town to buy” he added. You noticed during your long walks that people in this town continue embracing immortality in exchange for their establishments and loyalty for Qian properties. It sounds complicated, their business, but really it’s not hard to understand. It’s like a normal business that buys and sells properties and a big company that needed a lot of staff. But for Qian properties, lives are involved.

“What happens to the people you turn to vampires?”

“Besides being rich, they will have a long life, my family owns them and as long as they live, they will work for my family. But I can assure you that their lives are safe. We don’t harm them, rather we help them adjust to this new life they swore to- How are you?”

His sudden concern for you caught you off guard that you smiled and became shy in front of him. He’s not here as a businessman again, he’s here as your friend, Kun. Whom you kissed and waited for his presence every day.

“I waited for you every day” he smiled at your honesty. But then, his smile slowly fades away. He holds his chest and pretends that he’s okay to not make you worry. “I’m not stupid you’re hungry. When was the last time you drank blood?” you brought him to your kitchen to give him a plate of raw steak. But he told you steak does not cover it. You were trying so hard to help him ease his hunger. Then you realized, you have blood.

“Try not to kill me? Or turn me?” you exposed your collar bones to him and standup in between his legs. He was sitting on the kitchen counter like a bored teenager with a bottle of water in his hand. He let out a cute laugh and fixed your robe.

“No. I can’t do that to you. I’m not here to ask for blood. I’m just tired and pressured because of my family. I just needed to see you” he smiled so sweetly again, making you fall in love with his gaze. Even though he’s tired and weak to the core he can still make your heart flutter.

“I’m not going to take no for an answer. If you don’t drink my blood, you can never see me again” it was a dangerous bargain but you had to try. You came closer to him, felt his cold skin, smelled his cologne, and hope that he smells your blood. It was a struggle for him and he enjoys your sweet torture. Until he finally gave in.  

“Just one swig,” he says.

“That’s all I want to happen. Please, you look dead” you insist.

He took his time untying your robe, remove it from you and watch it hit the tiled kitchen floor. He kissed your neck like the gentleman that he is making you weak and let out soft moans. His lips are cold and it sends a shiver straight to your spine. Then he bit you. Drank your blood like he’s just kissing your neck. It felt like you’re high on drugs, everything kept spinning and the moment he stopped. You feel weak and he was quick to catch you with his strong arms. Kun kissed the part where he had bit you a few seconds ago and kissed you all the way from your collar bone, neck, chin, and finally your lips.

Everything turned slow. Like a moment being kept for safekeeping and no one dares to move too fast. Scared to ruin such a beautiful moment.

You took him to your room and there you two continued that beautiful moment. He watched you remove your clothes in between his legs as he comfortably sits on the edge of your queen-sized bed. Once you discarded all your clothes and exposed your bare body to him, his hands roam freely around your body. It’s his first time, he whispered. “I’ll try not to disappoint you” he promised.  

While you help him remove his clothes, Kun learned to kiss your body. He was shy but you told him he doesn’t have to. He learned to kiss your chest, the valley between your boobs and your stomach. “Why are you avoiding my boobs?” you asked with a slight giggle, waiting for his lips to brush your perked nipple and make you shiver. He looked at you directly in the eye as he starts sucking your left nipple, then he turned to your right boob, and in a matter of minutes, he finally learned how to use his tongue. You gasped and breathed in deeply as you were just standing in between his legs, naked, shivering, and moaning at the things he’s been doing to you.

“You’re going to make me cum undone” you informed him. He stopped and leaned back, admiring your swollen nipples as if he’s proud of his work.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked oh so innocently.

“No” you pushed him slowly to the mattress, “But I’d rather cum in other different ways,” you said. This time it’s your turn to kiss his cold body and let him experience the pleasure he’s been giving you. His low groans were music to your ears when you licked his nipples while you unbutton his pants and remove it swiftly leaving him only with his boxers briefs.

Given that this is his first time, you decided to stay on top tonight and take charge. You kissed his abs, feel it with your hands, and took time kissing his lower abdomen, making the vampire impatient and push his underwear down so your lips can finally make contact with his cock. You gave him his first blow job, sucking his dick slowly and pumping it over and over again until it’s really hard and thick. “I promise to give you a proper blowjob someday” you crawled on top of him until your wet folds are coating his cock with your pussy juices.

“I can get addicted to you, you know that?” he says and smiled before you reach for his lips to distract him as you line his cock to your entrance and slowly sink down on him. His reaction was something you will never forget, the sound that he made once he’s fully inside you. You intertwined your fingers with him before you roll your hips deliciously.

“Ready?”

“Yeah- Oh, ahh” he part his lips and did not get shy anymore as he continues to let out his moans and feel your warm walls around him. He pulled your body closer to him, wanting to never leave those beautiful lips of yours. You made his arms rest on your hips, as you bounce up and down on his cock with utmost care. There’s no need to go wild and crazy for tonight. Everything is perfect.

“I’m close” he admitted. But you didn’t stop moving your hips.

“Can you make me pregnant?” you cage his head with your arms, your face is close to him so you can nip his lower lip and kiss him every second.

“I can’t” he answers your question. There was a slight disappointment of course. But this is not the right time to think about having kids.

“What are you waiting for? Let go and cum inside me”

Kun did what you said and had the time of his life, enjoying his first orgasm from having sex. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t cum tonight, Kun’s cock felt great and that alone satisfies you. He didn’t let you go for some time, you stayed on top of him as he continues to kiss and talk to you while he still enjoys your warmth.  

Soon, you lay beside him and covered you with your clean thick sheets. You talked some more, about things that are intimate and are for the two of you only. You never felt so happy being in the arms of a… vampire. You felt alive again but you don’t say it out loud, you just wanted to bask at this moment with Kun and feel the happiness flood your heart.  

“How are you feeling?” you asked. Maybe he needed more blood?

“I’m feeling just fine. Thank you. And I’m not talking about the sex and your blood. Thank you for letting me in your life” he was holding your hand while drawing small circles using his cold thumb.

That night, you two slept really late and talked more about life and the things you wanted. You learned that the two of you are very different from each other but you’re ready to love him deeply and he’s ready to take great risk for you too. And you think the beauty of loving someone so different from you is a different kind of great love.

Kun’s cold figure still hugs you tightly when you wake up the next day. The morning light hits his skin perfectly that he shines effortlessly. “fuck” you muttered and quickly tried getting out from his cold embrace to close the curtains. But he tugs you even closer to his body making you panic even more, “are you hurt?”

“No” he kissed you good morning and sweetly requests, “can we stay a little bit longer like this? I still don’t want to face the day”

You raked his hair away from his face and gave him his morning kisses, “we can stay like this forever” you said.

“Does that mean you’re accepting immortality?-“

“That’s not what I meant”

“Oh”

Even so, being human and vampire in a relationship did not stop you two from loving each other without bounds. Every day has been nothing but happiness with Kun even though you both have your own disappointments with yourselves. You’re disappointed with writing, he’s disappointed with his family’s business. Every bit of the relationship was not easy but you two chose to be happy together every day and face each day together.

He starts calling your house his home because you are his home and you don’t mind him calling you that. It makes you happy. Every day, when the sky turns to your favorite shade of orange, Kun will ring your doorbell and you will welcome him home with kisses and warm hugs.

Soon, you two became confident about telling each other everything about your family. And for the first time, talking about them didn’t make you sad, but rather happy because you can share that part of your life with Kun who listens to every word you say attentively. He told you that his mom was the one who told him to give you books to read, give you flowers and treat you with respect. His stories about his family make you want to meet them someday. It will not be easy but, “We will get here eventually”

Speaking of eventually, he finally learned how to fuck after a few nights of making love with Kun. He finally became confident in bed, making you moan his name over and over again. Memorizing every inch of the places you loved being touched the most. Oh, he’s a fast learner and a great one if you’re being honest to the point that night after night you grip the sheets so hard because he was fucking you good.

Perfect. Everything is perfect.

“Good morning” you greet him with loving kisses as always before you make your coffee. He’s still shirtless and just wearing his pajamas while he makes breakfast. You hugged him from behind and enjoy his cold skin on a beautiful warm morning. “Can we stay like this forever?” you asked, hugging him tightly.

“Is that a yes for immortality?” he’s serious when it comes to ‘immortality’ but it never annoyed you because it’s his love language. You understand him.

“I want to be with my family, Kun” you bit his shoulder playfully and placed soft kisses after. He loves it when you do that.

“And I don’t want to watch you die,” he asked for a kiss on lips, which you gave happily.

“Why are we having this conversation?” you roll your eyes.

“You’re right. I love you, I’m sorry”

See. Push and pull. And it’s a decision that one day you’re going to face and not even ‘i love yous’, ‘i’m sorry’, hugs or kisses will solve that problem for you. Someday he will not joke about it. And you’re scared because the question is, family or Kun?  

During the day, you kept thinking about the conversation you had with Kun before breakfast. It made you think hard and ran through every loophole. You imagined life without Kun, you imagined him watch you die in a hospital bed, and you imagine not being with your family ever again. Every decision broke your heart.

When Kun finally came home, you try shrugging the thought of making a decision one day and admire your boyfriend as he is about to prepare you dinner.

Having a very handsome vampire in your kitchen cooking you good food is definitely one for the books. It’s like watching a live cooking show and you’re the only audience who can taste what he’s cooking. The way he walks around and smiles at you from time to time is making you feel things you shouldn’t be feeling. Heck, even watching him sprinkle salt and pepper, chop the peppers, and squeeze some lemon is making your heart jump.

Such a waste.

All these talents for singing, great skills at the kitchen, handsome face… And yet he chose to live in darkness. You have nothing against the vampire, he didn’t choose to be born as a bloodsucker, but he did choose to serve his family. His number one mistake, honestly speaking.

“If you’re not a vampire, what would you want to be?” you asked him bluntly, sipping on your wine while you watch him cook. “I hope you know that you’re talented and that if you embrace being a human you can be many things. For starters, you can be a cook at a famous restaurant or a pilot”

“Are we seriously having this conversation?” he chuckles, turns off the stove and faced you, leaning on the kitchen counter, looking handsome as ever, “Do me a favor and imagine yourself being 200 years old still looking young and beautiful. Or being happily married for hundreds of years. With me” he left a kiss on your forehead and goes back to plating the food.

The words ‘happily married’ doesn’t sound so bad.

“So you’re telling me that if we stayed like this, vampire and human, and I’m finally old and wrinkly, you won’t love me anymore?” you tease him, not letting him know that the idea of being married affects you.

“Why can’t we have a normal dinner without being on each other’s throats? Come on let’s eat. Grab the wine please,” he offered his cold hand to help you come down from the stool and go together to the dining area.

Before eating he did notice you were spacing out, he puts down his spoon and fork and reached for your hand. “Look at me,” he says, “Vampire or not I’m going to marry you and we’ll live happily together”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Now, come on eat. Tell me if it’s delicious, I just learned this from the cooking show I’ve been watching”  

The constant push and pull continued. Your relationship has always been a never-ending convincing each other to be something you’re not. But ever since you let Kun in your life happiness is present in your life again and you’re worried that maybe someday that happiness will be taken away from you again. Kun is literally the reason why you smile first thing in the morning and sleep peacefully at night.

After having dinner and you two are ready for bed, you can’t stop thinking about the conversation you had this morning. The decision you’ve been thinking about has been running in your mind the whole day but there's another thought that’s been bugging you all along and you’ve been wanting to ask Kun.

“Can you really not die?”

He must be tired. He closed his eyes and kept you close. You wait for his answer but it seems like he doesn’t want to keep the conversation. Then he looks at you, “I can. I just have to be careful. I can die like how humans die except for dying at old age” he explains and you don’t want to pry further. “I'm scared of dying, you know. There’s so much I want to do in my life even before I met you. But since then I became even more scared to death. This world holds everything important to me, my family, and you. I can’t die” he answered your question honestly of course.

The next day, Kun woke up before you because he’s been planning to do something lately but can’t execute his plans correctly. He was about to do it last night but you asked him a heavy question so he didn’t have a choice but to set aside his intentions first.

He carefully opened the bedside drawer and reached for the tiny object inside. Since he doesn’t know anything about romance, he doesn’t know how to propose beautifully to you. So he went for something he’s confident with. Honesty. He grabs your hand and slips the ring on your finger, carefully but his movements still woke you up.

Any girl would freak out seeing her boyfriend propose to her the moment she opens her eyes in the morning. The diamond is quite big and it made you gasp. Not that you cared about the rock but the fact that Kun just proposed to you the moment you wake up is just enough reason to panic.

But he made a ’Shh’ sign that made you follow him and kept yourself quiet. You feel your heart thumping and beating so fast at this moment that you want to burst out of happiness already but Kun is calm in front of you. Just calm.

“Listen” all you hear are birds chirping and comfortable silence, “peaceful right?” you nod your head, “Let’s never break that peace in our relationship. I don't know how to make things easier for us but let's start with, no more push and pull. Last night I promised you that vampire or not, I’m gonna marry you and this is me keeping that promise. I would rather watch you die at old age, wrinkly and weak than lose you” He kissed your hand, and the panic that you’ve been savoring is long forgotten. Instead of screaming your lungs out because of too much happiness, you kissed each other and engraved that beautiful moment in your hearts.

And because you and Kun have been living together for quite some time now, you’ve become the talk of the town. Everyone thought that Kun is keeping you hostage and is only using you to get the house and to get the whole town. Even though he has been really successful in buying lives lately and earning the people’s loyalty in this town, the ones who strongly refused Kun’s offer is now making a plot behind his back.

A plot where they plan to kill him and save you. They’re just waiting for the perfect timing to strike the vampire.

“He’s just using you to get the house. Of course, he had to marry you so he can have legal rights to your house. Trust me, that vampire will leave you” Sophie hated Kun so much that when you told her that you’re engaged she didn’t take it lightly. The old woman shoos you out of her store and told you to be smarter. It’s sad how she can’t see that you’re really happy with Kun.

When you got home from grocery shopping, you wait for Kun to arrive before you leave him for one night to meet your manager back to the city. It pains you to be away from Kun. It’s like there's this magnet that’s keeping you near him and stopping you from leaving the house but finally, you finished a good book. All thanks to Kun. Your manager wanted to meet you so you can work on the details and finally, go back to the world and show everyone how you’ve been.  

“The city is great. You sure you don’t want to come? There's a lot of vampires in the city-“

“And my fiance is a famous writer. Who’s about to have her come back to the industry that she loves. I don’t want to give you a problem before you can even go back out there. People will not take it lightly if they see you with me” he kissed you and hope that you will not argue with him further.

“But we just got engaged. I don’t want to be away from you” you pout like a little girl.

“Well then come home soon” he smiles sweetly to you and finally made you stop your whining.

Leaving home never felt so wrong. But you realized, he’s right. You just have to come home soon.

When you were back in the city and in the familiar office of your manager, you can’t help but feel out of place. Is this really what you want? Because if your manager agrees to publish this new work of yours, that means you have to leave home again. You have to leave Kun and live in the city. Something you think you can’t handle. It's like making the same mistakes again.

“I love it! You’re back- amazing work. I have to meet this vampire that you’re talking about. The one who inspired you to write this beautiful masterpiece. Ugh! Welcome back!” he exclaims excitedly. But his approval did not make you excited or anything. You’re happy of course, but you’ve been thinking about coming home and telling Kun the good news.

“Are we done here?”

“Uh- yes, bu-“

“Great. Call me if you need anything. I have to go home now. Thank you” you shake his hand and bid him goodbye. You were quick to get out of there and head home already. The plan was to stay the night in your old apartment, but you can’t. You really can’t. It’s almost 3 in the morning and Kun must be sleeping already because he hasn’t answered your calls. You drove excitedly while playing with the ring on your finger, thinking about how to spend the following days with Kun as an engaged couple.

When you finally arrived in town, people in their sleep wears welcomes you in the street. But their faces looked worried and concerned. What’s happening, you murmured. Since a lot of people are blocking the street you decided to get out of the car and check what’s happening.

“Y/n… the house….” someone shouted.

“My house?” you ran as fast as you can to see what they’re talking about. Hoping that everything is fine and that Kun is safe and not inside the house.

Then you see it.

It was your favorite shade of orange. Eating your house, ruining your home. You watched the house burn and you never thought that watching it will make you hate something you used to love ever since you were just a kid. You wanted the bright colors to fade. Your hands are shaking as you call for help. Screaming at the top of your lungs as people try to stop you from running towards your house.

“Kun!” you screamed and asked for him but no one is answering you.

Sophie tried to make you listen to her while you push everyone away. “I’m sorry. We had to do this. The town was slowly dying and turning into a vampire town. Y/n! He will leave you in the end or worst, he will change you” she was apologizing but you didn’t want to listen to her anymore. You slapped the old woman and tried to kick her with all your might but the people are quick to stop you.

The fire spread so fast that Kun didn’t have time to save himself. He tried calling for help but the lines were already cut. It’s obvious the fire was planned. He was trying so hard to escape death, coughing and covering his mouth, crying while he bangs through the door that seems to be locked from the outside. I don’t want to die. He repeats over and over again, thinking about his family, his brothers, and of course you.

But he couldn’t go out. He banged through the door until his last breath and strength but it did nothing. Soon the fire ate him and all he can do is scream through the pain, cry, and accept death.

The next thing you know, you’re at the hospital. You see your manager sleeping on the couch. Tears started falling but you don’t know why. On top of that, your heart feels heavy. It’s a familiar feeling, you thought. Like when the news that your family died reached you.

Then you see your ring. And suddenly you understand why you started crying out of nowhere and why that familiar feeling of losing someone is back.

Kun is dead.

And once again you’re back to rock bottom but this time you don’t have a home or a place to help you heal.

[linkspooky]

Black Wolf, White Wolf, Megumi and Yuji.

In my last post I mentioned how the white wolf and black wolf are symbolic for the connection between Gojo and Yuji. However, because the students are all parallels for the previous generation (Gojo, Geto and Shoko paralleling Yuji, Megumi and Nobara), the white wolf and black wolf also represents the relationship between Megumi and Yuji. Megumi and Yuji are a pair of opposites, who are complementary to one another. They present themselves as completely different people, but also have far more in common with, and a closer connection to each other than anybody else. 

1. There are Two Wolves Inside of You, One of Them is Gay. 

The white wolf is wholly white except for three black dots on its head, the black wholf wholly black with the exception of three white dots. Each of these supposed opposites black and white have a little bit of each other’s coloring. This is a clear reference to the coloring of the Taijitu symbol.

The yin yang (i.e. taijitu symbol) shows a balance between two opposites with a portion of the opposite element in each section.

Yuji and Megumi are designed as characters to represent this same dualism as a couple. Yuji being associated with the white Yang, and Megumi the black yin.

n Ancient Chinese philosophy, yin and yang (/jɪn/ and /jɑːŋ, jæŋ/; Chinese: 陰陽 yīnyáng, lit. "dark-bright", "negative-positive") is a concept of dualism, describing how seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world, and how they may give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another. Yin is the black side, and yang is the white side

The white wolf has a tendency to be associated with Yuji, and the black wolf associated with Megumi. This goes as early back as their first mission together. Immediately after panel where they first disagree with one another on how to save people, and end up confronting each other, the white wolf shikigami is killed permanently. 

In the same mission, Yuji dies. Afterwards, as a consequence for his death the white wolf can never be summoned as a shikigami again, but the black wolf begins to take on a few of the white wolf’s features.

Megumi and Yuji are opposites. Megumi is cold and dispassionate, and entirely selective with his sympathies. Yuji is warm, friendly, and willing to sympathize with almost anybody. They’re also like eac other. Not only that, but they become progressively like each other as the plot goes on. 

The relationship between yin and yang is often described in terms of sunlight playing over a mountain and a valley. Yin (literally the 'shady place' or 'north slope') is the dark area occluded by the mountain's bulk, while yang (literally the "sunny place' or "south slope") is the brightly lit portion. As the sun moves across the sky, yin and yang gradually trade places with each other, revealing what was obscured and obscuring what was revealed.

In other words, just like how the divine black dog now has a piece of the white dog. Megumi and Yuji present themselves to the world as opposites externally, but internally they have a piece of themselves inside each other. Despite being so different they both look at each other and think yeah, that’s the right way people should live instead. 

Megumi and Yuji are inspired by the differences they have with each other. Megumi wants to become a more emotional person to Yuji, true to his feelings and his desire to save others. Yuji wants to learn to think things through like Megumi does. 

There’s also several other ways the two of them compliment each other as a pair. 

Yin is characterized as slow, soft, yielding, diffuse, cold, wet, and passive; and is associated with water, earth, the moon, femininity, and night time.

Yin is associated with femininity. Megumi’s name is specifically a gender neutral name. Megumi himself uses shadow as his Curse Technique. Remember Yang is the sun over the valley, and Yin is the shadows created by that sun. Megumi literally uses those shadows as a form of attack. 

Megumi is also constantly characterized as passive in comparison to Yuji. It is Megumi who lives quietly with his head down, it is Megumi who passively accepts things, Megumi reacts while Yuji acts. Yuji is always running off to save people, and Megumi is the one trying to stop him from hurting himself. Even Gojo points out this passivity as a flaw on Megumi’s part. He spends so much time thinking of others, while Yuji isn’t even thinking of him, he’s swinging for a home run. 

Yang, by contrast, is fast, hard, solid, focused, hot, dry, and active; and is associated with fire, sky, the sun, masculinity and daytime.

Yuji on the other hand is associated with masculinity. Megumi uses the ten shadows, Yuji just punches things. The hypermasculine Todo finds Megumi boring, but warms up to Yuji right away as a brother. Yuji’s even famous for his strength. (There’s also some Tiger and Dragon symbolism going on here, Yuji is known as the Tiger of West Junior High. Geto, who is also his opposite foil is capable of summoning a dragon). 

Yuji is the active character always running off to save someone. He’s the one most determined to get involved while Megumi usually holds back. Once again returning to Gojo, Gojo and Yuji are both similiar because they think the same way about things, they’re always trying to stand out, be the star, because they’re both active. It’s usually Yuji who runs ahead and leaves Megumi behind. 

However, part of the yin / yang dulaity is that as complementary pairs they can also reverse. Strong can become weak. We’re even litereally shown this in the one fight Megumi and Yuji cooperate on during the shibuya arc, they fight someone whose literal curse technique is reversing polarizaiton, making strong attacks weak. 

Strong becomes weak, and weak becomes strong. The yin and yang glady trade places with one another. As a result of the Shibuya arc, we have seen Megumi acting more like Yuji, and Yuji acting more like Megumi. 

In their very first arc, it was Yuji who was active. He let Sukuna rampage in order to save the others, leaving Megumi behind to deal with the fallout. 

In the Shibuya arc this event is paralleled in an opposite way. Yuji becomes more passive, and less self centered. He starts to act more like Megumi. His individual life is less important, than contributing to the whole. In other words, it’s Yuji this time who decides to make the sacrifice bunt. 

While at the same time we see Megumi is pushed to his absolute limit and starts swinging for the stands. It’s Megumi’s choice to summon Mahoraga and let him effectively rampage, at the cost of himself. The kind of wild, self-sacrifice that only Yuji would make. This. 

Mirrors this. 

Not only that but the same way Megumi had to fight against Sukuna in order to try and contain him, this time Sukuna has to fight against Mahoraga in order to stop the exorcising ritual from killing Megumi. 

Megumi and Itadori are not only alike, they’re also becoming more like each other as the story progresses probably out of affection and genuine admiration of one another. Megumi inspires Yuji to become more passive and think things through. Yuji inspires Megumi to become more active towards saving others. Yuji’s thinking has even changed to become more like Megumi’s he calls himself a cog, using the same symbolism Megumi once did. 

They also reflect each others flaws. When they’re alone and apart from each other, both of them becomes way too willing to sacrifice themselves. While at the same time, they both believe the other sacrificing themself is unacceptable. For Yuji, Megumi dying is the worst result. For Megumi, Yuji dying is the worst result. 

Megumi and Yuji want to save each other, but individually they’re too prone to self destruction. However, with all the effort the manga puts into representing both of them as a pair, it leads me to believe that we’re eventually going to see a reconciliation between the two of them. Unlike Gojo and Geto who eventually ended up separating, and becoming incredibly unbalanced as individuals. I believe that Megumi and Yuji will have the opposite results, they’ll be able to find each other again, and find balance in each other. 

[astaroth1357]

The Brothers Reacting to Being Forced to Swap Clothes

So… Weird kinda meta idea, but hear me out. Getting this out before the event starts because I don't want my first impressions to be ruined!! 😣

Intro:

Devs: Okay guys, we got the new event planned, and we're doing outfit options again.

Belphie: *lifts head off table* Ugh, really? That's always too much work…

Levi: Please don't make me a giraffe again… Can't I be something cool…?

Satan: Are we doing more literary inspirations? Because I can think of an excellent period piece that-

Devs: Nope. We're swapping your clothes.

Brothers: ….

Mammon: ...What?

Devs: *pulls out a bowl full of papers* Everybody, draw lots then strip.

Asmo: *panicking* Hold on, we're not even the same size!!

Beel: Can we go to lunch soon?

Devs: Yep, just grab a slip.

Beel: Okay… *reaches out*

Asmo: BEEL NO!!!

The rest is history.

Lucifer 

… Do you know how hard it was for him to fit into Mammon's signature jacket? It was like trying to squeeze through a toilet paper tube… How is Mammon so strong but still that skinny??

His brothers honestly thought he'd put up more of a fight, but he seems overall more amused by the venture… or he's livid and saving face by acting totally cool with it—one of the two. 🤷‍♀️

Has to move pretty carefully to keep from just decimating Mammon's clothes. That outfit is not going to stand a chance against his muscles, let me tell ya...

Mammon more or less pleads with him, beggar's hands and all, not to wreck his jacket because he's not going to be able to afford another… It's juuust cute enough for him to consider the request, but only barely. 

Mammon

Of course, Mammon would be the one to pull the short straw and get Lucifer… His outfit is just so… bulky. He can feel it literally weighing him down… 😥

However, that doesn't mean he's gonna wear the damn suit properly!

It irritates Lucifer to no end that he won't show his sense of style a little dignity and wear it right...

Cue about ten minutes of Lucifer trying to fix Mammon's tie before he just messes it back up again later out of defiance. He gives up eventually, but that just means that if he were to "accidentally" rip Mammon's expensive jacket, he's not going to feel too bad about it. 🤷‍♀️😌

Leviathan 

NO Satan, he's going to wear BOTH sleeves like a normal person! Deal with it!!

But then he saw himself in the mirror, and he was mortified… He looked like a total normie! A NORMIE!!

Argued until he was blue in the face to keep his headphones. If he couldn't hold onto his buttons, they could at least give him something; otherwise, he'd want to vomit every time he looked in a mirror! 😫

At least Satan wears some pretty comfortable outfits… He can totally understand why he just sits around reading books all day. His sweater is soooft. He actually feels oddly relaxed in it too… Maybe he enchanted it at some point, who knows? 🤷‍♀️

Satan

… His left arm cannot be contained. It's his punching arm, sorry Asmo.

Didn’t stop Asmo from fussing incessantly for him to just put the damn sleeve on, but he would NOT relent! No amount of begging will sway him on this.

Thankfully the two of them are pretty close to the same size, so he doesn't have to worry about moving around under a tent of fabric... Who knows how well he'd manage in Beel's outfit?

He is also incredibly thankful he wasn't stuck wearing Lucifer's suit... He might have just argued to go naked instead. Event or no, he'd give Lucifer that satisfaction over his dead body! 😤

Asmodeus 

This is a total NIGHTMARE!!!

WHY does Levi have to wear such tacky outfits?? Not even he can make his body look appealing all wrapped up in This. Much. Lame!! 😫

Had a blowout with Levi over trying to make alterations to his jacket, too. The snakey boy refused to let him take off any buttons or make some form-fitting alterations…

For the first time in his life, he has resigned himself to looking like a 7 or 8 instead of a 10… He's going to have to reaaally work it in the face this time... Thanks a lot, Levi... 😖

Beelzebub 

The twins haven't switched clothes like this in a while… He thinks it's kind of nostalgic, really. 🤷‍♀️

Good thing Belphie always wears stuff that's nearly too big for him anyway, so Beel doesn't have to squeeze into it much. Everybody knows he'd never fit into Asmo's clothes… 😖

Of course, now that he's in a white shirt, he has to try REALLY hard not to spill anything… He doesn't want to mess up Belphie's clothes on accident... 😣 (Not that the lazy boy would really care, but you know.)

Is just as perplexed as everybody else on what those zippers are for, though. He's never actually questioned it until now… Why does Belphie need an optional crop top...? Got to wonder...

Belphegor 

He likes baggy clothes, and he likes Beel, so there's absolutely wrong with this arrangement as far as he’s concerned. 🤷‍♀️

His only real problem is the choker because it's kind of hard to sleep in, so he's got to loosen that up some...

The sleeves maaaay also be a problem because he has to constantly push them back up, but hey, that can be solved by just not using his arms much, right? Sounds like a good excuse for more napping. 😌

Pretty much treats Beel's jacket like a new blanket and loves it. Everybody else is just whining for no reason; he thinks this event is the best. Fight him.

[corancoranthemagicalman]

So @nebulous-bondage , you said that you liked Dean being an idiot with internalized issues that he confronts, misunderstandings and miscommunications, and long-suffering Sam. I attempted to do a bit of everything but adjacent to anything I would usually do, took a movie metaphor and ran. I hope you like it!

Great love and hugs to Sophie over at @starrynightdeancas for hosting this AWESOME event for a fabulous celebration (and once again congrats on the milestone!!) I got to meet at least TWO new cool people from it. (My gifter and giftee.) If you want some amazing content, please check out Sophie’s stuff that I totally drew inspiration from. Figured if my giftee was a fan of Sophie’s, I couldn’t go too wrong taking a card out of that deck.

Lots of love!

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

The crux of the issue if you asked Dean, was this:

He was an idiot.

Okay, he was not—he wasn’t stupid stupid. He has got mediocre intelligence, right? He wasn’t like Sammy and his multiple languages thing or Bobby and his random lore thing and—

The point was Dean, while not stupid could be a massive idiot. And that was the conundrum that led him to soaking in the middle of a diner in Nebraska of all places with his mother gasping at him and his brother facepalming at him and Jack glaring at him—

And Cas… well, Cas was just. Looking. But his face was, if Dean had to pinpoint some emotion, reading like it was a heartbreak that he had just experienced.

Maybe Dean should start from the beginning. Just so you understand his perspective, okay? Because he wasn’t—he wasn’t stupid. This wasn’t entirely his fault, except that it might have been. And he might have a lot of talking to do. Which sucked, because Dean kind of hated talking.

Okay, maybe not the beginning. The beginning was fire and brimstone and sulfur. The beginning was something Dean was told, but didn’t remember. Or the beginning he did remember, which was lightning and fear and salvation—well.

Dean was far from the beginning. The real beginning. It had been longer than a decade. An entire lifetime—more than that—separating him from what he was. What they were now to what they were then.

But there is a beginning to every stage in Dean’s life, he’s found. And that’s what he means. This thing Dean had for Cas? It began long before Dean was aware of it. This particular circumstance that led to a soaked shirt in a corny booth? Well, Dean with the benefit of retrospection could pinpoint it exactly.

In the Bunker’s library was where this had all started.

Cas had just walked in, deeply conversing with Jack. All of the conversations that Cas had he treated with that same seriousness. Even back when he had just been newly revived. Newly in Dean’s passenger seat, donning a cowboy hat, and calling himself Huckleberry.

(His Huckleberry. Dean’s Huckleberry. Even if he didn’t mean it like that. Could never mean it like that. Because angel’s didn’t feel like that.)

Jack had spotted Dean first, or at least turned to face Dean first. Dean had wondered if Cas had that same peripheral awareness as him. If his eyes always looked for him when he entered a room. If he could feel the charge he exuded with every step.

(Probably not. It was probably an angel thing that made Dean aware of Cas. Something about electricity and grace. Even though Cas’ grace was fading by the day, he was an angel. Would always be an angel if Dean could do anything about it.)

The point was, Jack had turned from Cas. Had asked Dean something about courting rituals in film. Dean had scoffed, reminding Jack that he didn’t watch chick-flicks. Because he didn’t. And had given him some sort of half answer.

(Ten Things I Hate About You didn’t count. And neither did Dirty Dancing. Ledger was not starring in a chick-flick, and Swayze always got a pass.)

Frowning, Jack had made some comment to Cas. It was probably regarding their previous conversation, and that’s why Dean hadn’t retained it. Didn’t really get it. He was, as stated previously, an idiot. And maybe if he had paid more attention, he would have stopped this before it had started.

But he didn’t. Instead, he had turned to Cas. Because he had been thinking about Dirty Dancing. And how Cas hadn’t seen that yet. And Dean had asked Cas if he wanted to do a movie night. Just—just the two of them.

(He said it was because Jack was four, and maybe Cas should vet the movie first. And Sam hated Dirty Dancing. And Mom wasn’t even home. Which was all true. But it wasn’t often that Dean had the excuse to be alone with his best friend.

At the beginning of their friendship, Dean hadn’t had to share Cas with anybody. That was his best friend. His buddy to laugh harder with than he had in his entire life. His buddy to watch movies with and make jokes with. Now even Mary liked circling around Cas—not that Dean would blame them. But maybe—maybe he would like to be a bit selfish. Just this once.)

Jack’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree, and Cas’ eyes had looked as gentle as soft-serve. “I would like that,” he had answered, and that had been that. They had watched the movie, just the two of them. And if Cas sat closer into Dean’s personal space—well. Cas never knew what that was, did he? No need to correct him now.

And it was small things like that. Adjacent to what they had been doing before, but somehow different. Maybe Dean was laughing more. Maybe Cas was smiling more. Whatever the hell it was, it was nice.

(Nice in the way that butterflies in the stomach felt. Light and dizzying and wonderful and terrifying. Not that it was butterflies. Not that this was even remotely anything like that.

Because, if Dean were to be honest about it, butterflies didn’t come close. The butterflies in Dean’s stomach had once had jetpacks. But now? Now they were settled. They just lived there and Dean was used to it and it was—

It was more than butterflies. In theory.)

And it was Sam shaking his head at them. Them laughing. Jack sitting across from them with a board game on a team with Mary, facing head to head. And it was… nice.

(Nice should have been Dean’s warning.)

Jack’s movie night picks were always varying, but he had recently shoveled 90s romantic films into the fray. Sam, as predicted, had ducked out to FaceTime with Eileen when Dirty Dancing had made it to the top of the list, but otherwise stuck it out. Dean couldn’t even begin to list all of the names that had bled together and the faces with their generic, lovestruck expressions.

There was Jack’s wide smile, though. Sam snorting a laugh and shoving popcorn into his mouth. Mary, intrigued and curious, asking as many questions as Cas might have once upon a time. And Cas was there, right next to Dean’s arm, and warm beside him. Lovely and warm and giving that same smile Dean thought was beginning to make a regular appearance.

Sitting with his entire family—all of them safe for once?—of course it had to go wrong.

(Of course Dean had to be the one to ruin it.)

It was an entire nest of vampires out in Nebraska of all places. Mary had been in the area and willing to meet up with them. Jack had been desperate to learn more about hunting, a fact that reminded Dean of a far off memory of Cas newly returned from Purgatory. A gummy smile and determination braced into an angel who still had his wings. Dean would be damned if Jack wasn’t a spitting image of that.

(But, maybe… Maybe Jack could go without all the terrible things that happened during that time. Cas, back from Purgatory and not in control of all of his faculties. Cas, longing for penance and willing to pass vindication on Dean’s guilty conscience. Even if Dean wasn’t a great role model. Even if the first few weeks with Jack had been—

Sam called it living with John Winchester again. Dean hadn’t known what to call it. Didn’t know if he could call it anything. But that—

Well, that was for another time. Dean would always be living with that guilt, but for the moment, the guilt bloomed in a Nebraska diner sitting across from Cas.)

Laughing, smiling—things that seemed to subtly be a new normal for them. It made Dean lean back in the booth, sling his arm over the back of it and relax into his seat. He turned to Jack, ruffling the kid’s hair after Jack shot a syrupy smile to Cas across the table. Cas offered a shy smile, ducking his head.

Beside Cas, Sam rolled his eyes and resumed his conversation with Mary. Mary had squeezed into the side with Dean and Jack. Five people didn’t work for booths, and Dean couldn’t help but think that in another life he would have prevented this exact thing from happening. But he didn’t mind being half on a seat, Mary squeezing between Jack and the window, and Sam sitting across from her laughing. Cas’ still shy smile on him.

“I did have a question,” Mary raised a brow. “I mean, when did movies start getting so… formulaic?”

Sam huffed a laugh, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “Well, they’ve kind of always been that way, haven’t they? Old Japanese myth becomes Hollywood cowboys becomes modern Sci-Fi.”

“Hey,” Dean spoke pointedly. “Treading dangerous waters there, Sammy. You can’t go wrong with cowboys or aliens.”

“Oh! Or Cowboys and Aliens,” Jack beamed, pointing with his fork before returning most of his attention to the remaining stack of pancakes.

Dean acquesied the point with a crooked grin. “That too.” He took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the slow burn of hot caffeine into his system. “What sort of formula are we talkin’ about though? Are we talkin’ young girls getting hypnotized by weirdly boyish supernatural creatures?”

“Even that has some basis going back to at least 1897,” Cas pointed out, “at least from what most people with any familiarity of fiction are concerned. Stoker’s Dracula was also a youthful seeming figure who enchanted a young woman.” His brow furrowed in that thoughtful way of his before he continued. “Though, I suppose that since some scholars believe it is possibly an allegory for sexuallly transmitted diseases, that does reaffirm the belief that it is meant to be an alluring but dangerous figure threatening the virtue of a young woman.”

Mary chuckled, shaking her head with wide eyes. She still wasn’t used to Cas being… Cas.

(There were times where Mary forgot Cas was an angel. Not in the sense that she was not always aware of the supernatural aura around Cas, but in the sense that sometimes Cas was so human. He was thoughtful and kind. His words were provoking and caring. His emotions were as volatile and as gentle as any man Dean had ever known.

Perhaps better than most men Dean had known. More human than some men that Dean had known.)

“I meant the whole boy meets girl thing.” She gestured with her free hand. “I mean the movie dates and the plastic solo cups. It’s all so… basic.”

“Not exactly the boomboxes and the mermaids, is it?” Sam smiled gently, nodding. “I guess people just like it… simple. Y’know? That love can just be something as simple as movie dates and sharing milkshakes.”

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck. Sam nailed it on the head. The best part of movies was that they were simple, and you always knew how they were gonna end.

(The hero always beat the bad guy, always saved the girl, always lived happily ever after. Didn’t mean Dean didn’t like movies where the cowboy rode off—grievously injured—into the sunset where you knew he would fall off of his horse after the fade to black. It was just that sometimes—

Dean knew that was going to be his ending. The cowboy holding his bleeding side. No one beside him but his trusty horse. Orange sunset on his face. That’s where his life was heading.

So sometimes it was just… nice. To pretend those stories didn’t exist. And Dean wasn’t living in one.)

“I guess,” Mary sighed, “I just miss the romance of it.” She looked forlornly at her drink. Dean wondered if she was thinking of John. Thinking of a jukebox and Zeppelin songs that he knew all the words to.

“I suppose everyone has their own unique definition of romance,” Cas offered diplomatically. “Humans tend to think romantic actions are circumstantial rather than objective.” He turned a small smile to Dean. “Take for example movie dates.”

Scoffing, Dean rolled his eyes. “Just ‘cause I like movies doesn't mean I think that’s romantic.” He could feel his cheeks burn, causing him to scratch at his scruff with an index finger. He was going to have to shave, wasn’t he? His hair was getting long—

“What.” Jack’s voice pulled Dean from his pondering. It sounded a touch colder than Dean was used to coming from the kid. Usually, Jack was sunshine and rainbows. Storm clouds and thunder. A spitting image of his dad—the one he called dad—but softer. Softer because Cas had done his damnedest to not let Jack be hardened into a soldier.

(Not like Dean had been. Not like Sam had been.)

“What what?” Dean furrowed his brow. Sighing, he rested his forearms on the table. “Look, movie nights? They’re nice for getting a girl alone in the dark and getting handsy on the couch or whatever,” he shook his head. “But romantic? Hardly.”

(He wanted to say that he didn’t believe in romance. Maybe because he didn’t want to believe that romance was out there, but not for him. It was hard to say that though, when thinking of his mother and her Zeppelin songs.

When thinking of a tape full of Zeppelin songs.

So he didn’t say any of that.)

“So,” Cas began slowly, “you don’t like movie dates.” He nodded, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “I see. What sort of dates would you prefer?”

Dean quirked a brow at Cas, letting out a chuckle. “Cas, I don’t do dates.” He shot a wry grin toward his brother. “Sammy prefers the wining and dining, but I’m more straight forward. If I want to hook up with someone, I just ask.” Looking at his hands, Dean confessed softer than he had meant to. “I’m too old for messin’ around.”

(And it was true. He was too old for it. He was still a handsome son of a gun. Still drew some attention, but—

But any time he had tried, he found himself just wanting to be home. Just wanting to be on that couch with Cas beside him and Jack sitting at their feet watching a movie. Sam and Mary coming and going as they pleased but there. Home.)

“You don’t… date?” Mary’s voice sounded careful and her gaze felt scrutinizing. “I—I was under the impression—”

“Mom,” Dean stopped her, feeling an embarrassed flush overcome his features. “C’mon. Don’t pretend like people didn’t do hookups back in your day too.” He tried to come off as teasing. Tried to lighten whatever was strengthening Jack’s glare, whatever was making Cas’ eyes grow a far distance away, whatever was raising Sam’s hand to his forehead.

Jack fixed his jaw and Dean had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. He could recognize that look from the mirror. And that was a terrifying thought, that Jack looked anything like him.

(Made him think about the weeks where Jack was living with John Winchester. Made Dean wake up in a cold sweat that maybe Jack had been learning from them during that time too. That despite Cas’ hard work, Dean would’ve turned Jack into John anyway.)

“Movie dates aren’t romantic,” Jack listed, “and you only want to hook up?”

(And none of that was really true, was it? Dean liked watching movies. And he liked doing it with Cas. He had admitted as much to himself even if the circumstances of those daydreams weren’t romantic.

But the idea of it being romantic wasn’t lost on Dean. That he could want it to be romantic. If asked, though, he’d say maybe movie watching was more domestic. Somehow that meant more to Dean. His little house and his little family watching a film, Cas pressing close and smiling.

But he wouldn’t say that. Couldn’t say that.)

“Love isn’t like the movies, Jack,” Dean huffed. “And I sure as hell don’t want it.”

This was where we were now. Dean’s shirt soaked. Mary gasping. Sam’s face in his hands. Cas’ face being etched with something sharp.

“Jack!” Mary reprimanded, hand resting on his shoulder.

Jack held his chin up in the air, looking down at Dean despite not having the height on him. “Isn’t it customary that when the guy says something stupid, the girl throws her drink at him?” His eyes squinted, head tilting, and it might have made Dean’s heart seize in his chest despite the frightening cold from the water clinging to his chest. “Cas is too kind to do it, so I did it for him.”

Cas was too kind for a lot of things, but—

“Thank you, Jack, but there is no need.” Cas spoke softly, but his face did not reflect that gentleness he always aimed at his son. Instead his eyes were still distant. Still lacking that shade of blue. “I believe this is, ah.” He shook his head and Dean could recognize that self-deprecating crook of his mouth from any distance. “This is the part of the film where the girl grossly misunderstands what is happening.”

“Can someone explain to me what is going on?” Dean snapped, jerking into action to dot at his shirt with napkins. “I’m freezing in Nebraska and we’re still talking about chick-flicks! Life isn’t a movie!”

The crook of Cas’ mouth shrunk, turning a touch sad. “I know,” he spoke calmly and pushed himself out of the booth. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I need some fresh air.”

No one kindly mentioned that Cas had never needed air before.

Dean was left staring at Cas' retreating form, that trenchcoat quickly crossing the horizon. It reminded Dean of the cowboy movies he had been thinking of. The injured cowboy carrying himself out of town, retreating from burdening his loss of life on anyone else. Bleeding and lonely.

Silence fell over the table, the napkins clutched in Dean’s grip quickly soaking some of the water from his shirt but doing little else to dry him. Sam’s elbow thunked against the table and shook Dean out of his reverie.

“So…” Mary began slowly. “You and Cas… aren’t dating?” She cautiously spoke, pushing her mug closer to the window as if that might spare it of whatever her words would stir within Dean.

(There was, admittedly, only one thought to cross Dean’s mind.

No, that wasn’t true.

There were precisely twenty-five different thoughts that had crossed Dean’s mind all at once. The largest of these—the loudest of these—was in a voice Dean ignored.)

“Mom, what the hell?” Dean furrowed his brow. “Cas is my best friend!”

Mary looked contrite, thinning her lips into a line. “I know that,” she reassured gently, “I just thought that…”

“Thought what? We were playing tonsil hockey or something?”

“Gross, Dean,” Sam sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He lifted his gaze to meet Mary’s across from him. “No, they’re just. Always like that.”

Dean swiveled to face Sam. Sammy was always insightful and usually right. But sometimes he spouted things that just… they didn’t—

(It didn’t make sense. To think of Cas and Dean as Cas and Dean. Not when Cas could never feel that way. Not when Dean was adamantly not thinking about it.)

“You told us that guys ask girls to movies when they like them!” Jack argued, pointing a finger accusingly at Dean.

“I what?” Dean furrowed his brow. “We do movie nights all the time! Watching a movie with someone isn’t a date!”

Jack turned to his pancakes with that same laser glare. Kryptonian son of a Kryptonian man. Super-human strength in the most unassuming package. Maybe the kid would have laser eyes. “We asked you why guys asked girls out to the movies in movies, and you said it’s just what people do.” He huffed. “Then you asked Cas to watch a movie. Isn’t that just what people do?”

It was then Dean realized he had no idea what conversation Jack was referring to, and he would have asked as much had it not suddenly come to his realization that—

(That—)

“Cas thought I was dating him?” Dean let out in a harsh whisper that felt like a whip to his heart.

Jack stabbed at his pancake, muggish and solemn with his movements. “I was so excited. I thought I had figured it out.” He let out a slow breath. “Cas tried telling me that… that sometimes humans say things and don’t mean it, but I thought…” Jack rested his chin on his balled fist. “And Mary said that her husband gave her a mixtape of Zeppelin too, so I thought—”

“Wait, wait,” Dean waved his hands in front of himself, speaking over Sam’s squeaking. He could feel his brain fritzing. Blowing smoke and threatening to stop in its tracks and never resume to whatever destination it had been plummeting toward. “Stop. Cas thought I was dating him. And he never said anything.”

Sam snorted a laugh, cracking a smile for the first time since this whole conversation had started. “When have you ever known Cas to say something?” He shook his head, hair curtaining his face. “He’s like the definition of happy with what we have.”

“Another movie trope!” Jack pointed with his fork, lifting his head from his plate. He turned with his silverware pointed at Dean this time. “See? You guys are like a movie!”

“It’s exhausting,” Mary let out in a quiet breath.

Dean could see her mulling over her abandoned coffee before he was distracted by Jack brandishing the fork near his face. He pushed the fork away with a single finger, furrowing his brow.

“We’re not a movie,” he admonished. “We’re people. People who’ve got—” Dean felt the words snap in his throat, clogging it with something thick. “He’s Cas. I’m me. Got it?”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sam furrowed his brow, matching Dean and leaning forward across the table. “You’re you and he’s him. Cut the bullshit, Dean.” Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him like a searchlight. Felt it beam into every nook and cranny Dean kept hidden. Spotting the rats and the liter festering in corners.

Shaking his head, Dean pushed himself up from the booth. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” He spoke pointedly, looking at his family. His little, broken family.

(He could remember Lilo & Stitch. That had been one that Jack had insisted on watching. Dean couldn’t deny the kid the full cinema experience for a classic.

Sitting on the couch, watching the film, Dean could spy the intensity in Cas’ gaze. The way the green of the film reflected on his blue eyes. Dean caught himself before he leaned into Cas too far, but Cas caught the movement. Caught him staring.

“I just…” Cas had trailed off. “I hadn’t realized how much I could relate to a small, animated alien.” He shrugged. “I suppose now I understand how you could form a parasocial relationship with the talking dog.”

How could Dean put into words how much Cas was Stitch? Something alien and far away. An answer to silent prayers. Something that added to their small and broken family.

But still good.

Yeah, still good.

Instead he had just shrugged, made some remark about Scooby-Doo being everyone’s best friend until Sam had aggressively shushed him into silence.)

The problem was Dean knew he had to talk about it. What was worse was that he knew who he had to talk to. This wasn’t a conversation for his family in the middle of Nebraska. This was a conversation for Cas—wherever he was.

Running his fingers through his hair in aggravation, Dean could feel his boots stomp across the floor. He could hear Sam sigh and place his palm to his forehead. Feel Jack’s Kryptonian stare. Sense his mother’s fight-or-flight instinct kicking in.

(The truth was this:

Dean wanted to run too. Wanted to hide away from this conversation and never resurface. Hide beneath every shout from every hunter he had seen growing up.

But he was getting too old for this shit. And he was tired. And Sammy was always insightful and usually right. And if Dean’s gut was saying what Dean’s heart hoped it was saying? Well.

Well.)

“Cas,” Dean called out, spotting the slowly soaking shoulders of his trenchcoated angel as soon as he turned the corner. “Why the hell are you standing in the rain, man?”

Cas sighed, turning his heavenward face to the concrete. “I wanted to take a walk. It started raining. I didn’t let it deter me.”

“Doesn’t look like you did much walkin’,” Dean gestured to how close the diner was. Its comfortable brickwork was still three feet from Cas’ figure. Stepping closer, Dean inhaled sharply. “Cas, talk to me.”

“What would you like me to say, Dean?” Cas furrowed his brow, turning his entire body to face Dean. Dean didn’t know which was worse. The sharpened profile made of millennial old granite, or the thousand eyed stare that had raised him from perdition.

(It was neither of these.

It was a pair of blue eyes, a shade darker than those of Jimmy Novak’s, staring at him in a barn. Telling him he deserved to be saved. And continuing to tell him he deserved to be saved twelve years later.

That was the face that did Dean in. Always.)

Huffing, Dean could feel an instinctual, defensive fire burn in his chest. “First off, you could start with how the hell I was supposed to guess we started dating.”

Cas’ face hardened and crumbled. It reminded Dean of an old cookie. Stale and full of raisins. It was hard to look at. “We never started dating, Dean.” He spoke sharply. “I… I had made an assumption, and I know what people say about assuming.”

“Let me get this straight,” Dean shook his head. “My best friend of twelve years thinks I asked him out on a movie date in front of his kid, yeah?” He did not wait for Cas’ answer before continuing. “Then he just, what? Thinks that nothing would change? We’d just keep watching movies together forever?”

“I would ask for nothing else,” Cas confessed and his whisper was almost lost to the sound of the rain picking up, thundering against the roof of the diner beside them. “Nothing had to change. Nothing has to change.”

Dean growled. “Then why storm out, huh?” He bit. “If nothing has to change, why are you out here taking a smoke break in the rain?”

Cas inhaled sharply, turning away from Dean. “I…” he began, “I thought for once we were on the same page.” He let out a breath. “I just needed time to… think. Reconceptualize some things.”

“Reconceptualize things.” Dean echoed, ignoring the increase of the rain falling on his skin. “Cas, I don’t even know what to say.” He threw his arms with a shrug. “What am I supposed to say?”

Hadn’t he known what conversation he was supposed to have? Why was it so hard to speak to Cas about this?

Wasn’t it supposed to be easy? If Dean wanted this, and Cas wanted this, then wasn’t it that simple? Just like a movie?

(The problem, Dean figured, was this:

He actually didn’t know what Cas wanted at all.

All that time thinking Cas couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Now here they were, and Cas thought they were dating, but he hadn’t done any of the things Dean would have done if they were dating. What would dating Cas even be like? What they had already been doing for weeks? Years?)

“Cas,” Dean inhaled a fortifying breath. “Man, what do you want?”

Cas brow furrowed and his head tilted, scrutinizing Dean. Being solely under that powerful gaze made Dean shiver. The angel’s eyes widened and he took a measured step forward. “You should get out of the rain—”

“No!” Dean gripped tightly at Cas’ shoulders. “No, I’m not leaving until you tell me what you want Cas!” He shouted and he was certain his voice would have bounced throughout the nearly empty parking lot of the diner had it not been for the deafening rain.

“What do I want?” Cas shouted in equal force. He shrugged Dean’s hands off of his shoulders, pressing forward into Dean’s space.

(Suddenly, Dean was reminded of an alley. Of Michael and Lucifer. Of Cas pressing him against the cold, damp wall. Beating his convictions into him.

It felt holy, those dangerous touches. Punishment at the hands of an angry god reminding Dean what he was fighting for. Even if he hadn’t lost sight of it yet, and even if Dean didn’t know it yet—

Cas would always hold him to that.)

“What I want,” Cas growled, eyes squinting against Dean’s features sharply, “is the one thing that I know I can’t have—”

“And how do you know?” Snapping, Dean took the last step between them. Their faces were close as they had been in the past, but…

But it had been so long since Dean had been this close to him. And it was somehow not close enough.

Cas’ eyes widened, breath that he didn’t need hitching. Dean watched in fascination as the blue of his eyes was slowly overtaken by the dark of his pupils. His crows feet somehow diminished with his wide eyes.

Youthful.

He looked like an echo of a Cas Dean once knew. But this was the Cas Dean always knew. Just older. Wiser. Kinder.

(And Dean loved him more with every day.)

“Cas, I'm tired.” Dean confessed. “I'm tired of lying to myself. I’m tired of pretending that I don't—I can’t—” he stumbled over his words, searching for some hidden strength that might have resided on Cas’ skin. “I keep telling myself you couldn’t ever feel like… like that. And it’s easier that way. Maybe if you can’t ever feel like that, then it’ll never happen so why should I hope for anything else, right?”

Cas made to interrupt him, but Dean wasn’t finished. Not by a mile. And Dean had been driving all of his life. Knew the comfort of driving. There was something like that here, with Cas.

(There always had been.

On a park bench in a small town Dean couldn’t even remember the name of. Cas saying he wasn’t a hammer. Dean listening. The first smile or the first joke that wasn’t a barb. Or both.)

“But that's bullshit, isn't it? ‘Cause you feel like nobody I’ve ever met, Cas.” Dean laughed breathlessly and it felt like oxygen deprivation. The kind that made you dizzy and squeezed your chest. “You feel so much all the damn time. That's the whole reason Naomi hated your guts. You’ve got this—this heart, man, and I gotta tell you, I’m jealous.

I’m jealous of every person who gets that from you. That gets a piece of you. ‘Cause I want all of it. Isn’t that nuts, man? That I’m too chicken shit to get over myself but I want you completely like that?” Dean gulped in a fresh lungful of air but he still felt like he was choking. Cas’ eyes taking on the appearance of mist, glistening and open, growing the thing beating its way out of Dean’s ribcage.

Dean swallowed, closing his eyes and trying to finish what he had to say. What he knew he had to say. Dean wasn’t good at talking. He didn’t like talking.

(But he loved Cas.

That probably balanced it out.)

“I’m scared, Cas,” came the confessional, “I’m terrified that I’m gonna—about everything.” Opening his eyes, Dean looked to Cas again. Found the remainder of the strength he needed looking back at him so intensely. “But there’s, uh, there’s this guy who sort of makes me feel better. About all of that. And I think I could move fucking mountains for him if he asked me to.”

“Dean,” and Cas spoke it like absolution. Like forgiveness for all the things that Dean had done. All he would ever do.

(And maybe he did. Maybe Cas did forgive Dean of it. There was so much to forgive. Little to forget. But maybe—

Maybe Cas saw Dean. All of Dean. The John Winchester that he was and the John Winchester he could be. The Mark of Cain on his arm and the Demon in his eyes.

But maybe he saw Lilo, too. On her knees and praying. Hoping. Someone who was trying.

And god.

Did he want to try.)

Licking his lips, Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas’ mouth for a moment. “Y’know Cas,” Dean whispered. He couldn’t risk speaking louder. Not if it was going to break the spell. Not if it was going to fade to black before he could get this. “I’ve always wanted a movie kiss.”

Cas’ smile spread gently across his face like warm butter over morning toast. “I thought you said life wasn’t a movie.”

Dean chuckled, ducking his head in hopes that Cas wouldn’t catch the burning of his cheeks. He probably did, though. Cas was just observant like that. Knew Dean like that. Bringing his face back up to meet Cas’ gaze, Dean couldn’t help but smile wider.

“It isn’t usually,” he shrugged with a single shoulder. “But, uh, way I see it?” Dean leaned forward, brushing the tip of his nose along the bridge of Cas’. “I think we just might be.”

(And god that was corny. But Cas made Dean corny.

No.

Dean was corny. Cas just made Dean comfortable enough to be whatever he wanted to be. And what Dean was right now was kissing the love of his life in the rain, receiving a foot-popping silver screen worthy first kiss.

Fade to black. Roll credits. Cue the 90s pop cover of the title song.)

[guardianofrivendell]

LOTR/Hobbit Characters and Your First Kiss

A/N: This was a preference series I honestly expected someone to request by now, and it sat in my drafts for a long time. I finally had inspiration to write it so here you go. I’ve done some kisses in previous preferences, but nothing beats the very first kiss. Enjoy!

A/N 2: I know that these preferences aren’t really short enough to be called preferences, both Legolas and Kili are 700+ words...  🙈 Next time I’ll just write “And then you kissed.”

Warnings: kisses (duh!), some a little steamier than the other (couldn’t help myself sorry not sorry) and an f-bomb with Kili (which I know is out of character but work with me here)

LEGOLAS  

Longing glances, accidental hand brushing, pining after someone who was seemingly out of reach... It wasn’t unknown to you, unfortunately. You and Legolas had been dancing around each other for what seemed like centuries. Which was impossible since you were human, but it certainly felt that long to you. Feelings were involved from the very first moment you laid eyes on him, and you tried to make it known in a subtle, and later in a not so subtle way. But Legolas was oblivious or just plain stupid - you hadn’t decided yet - and you stayed in the friendzone.  Some moments you were sure he returned your feelings, and then something happened (or didn’t happen) that made you not so sure anymore. Like the lack of kisses to name one.

You were not familiar with the Elvish way of courting. The only person you could ask was Legolas and yeah... that wasn’t going to happen. So you didn’t want to take any initiative, afraid you would cross a line you didn’t know existed.

And then the whole quest to destroy the one ring happened. You had joined for the adventure and to see more of Middle Earth, and yes, also because Legolas was coming too. No one could blame you for trying to spend more time with your crush... Who knows, maybe he had to save you and realizes he almost lost you, confessing his feelings because of it. Failsafe plan right? Yeah well... that didn’t happen. You were in constant danger, that went like expected, but it seemed like you didn’t need saving since you were a seasoned warrior. And to put yourself in mortal peril on purpose, that just wasn’t like you. Sure, Legolas held your hand while climbing rocks, or let you rest your head on his shoulder when you were tired. But that’s what every member of the fellowship would do. They didn’t, but they would if you’d ask.

So when you, Aragorn, Gimli and Master Friendzone finally reached Edoras, you had given up all hope.  Which is why Éomer caught your eye. You had met him before when you were looking for Merry and Pippin and you couldn’t help but find the handsome, bulky man on a horse attractive. He was the exact opposite of everything Legolas was. Just what you needed. At the victory celebration of the battle of Helm’s Deep, Éomer had approached you. You were all dressed up - thank Éowyn for that - and he complimented your appearance, asking for a dance.  While you danced, you failed to notice Legolas was keeping an eye on you from across the room. He watched how you twirled around, pure joy written all over your face, and he couldn’t help but smile. He thought you looked absolutely stunning in a dress. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about you, but the feeling in his stomach didn’t lie. His smile dropped immediately when he saw how low Éomer’s hand was on your back. He felt a jolt of pain in his hand, and when he looked at it, he noticed he had crushed the empty metal cup he had been holding.

You felt Éomer’s hand on your lower back but you didn’t say anything. It was probably just the ale in his system. As soon as he would do anything inappropriate, you would end the dance but for now you were going to enjoy the attention.  When he twirled you again, you bumped into Legolas.  “A word, please?” he said through gritted teeth. He didn’t wait for your answer, dragging you off the dancefloor with more force than you ever expected him to use on you. He didn’t stop until you reached a deserted hallway, you could barely hear the music anymore.  “Legolas, what is going on with- mppfh!” You were silenced when he crashed his lips on yours, pushing you against the wall. It didn’t take long before you kissed him back. It was a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue and you hadn’t expect this from him at all. This wasn’t the sweet and gentle Legolas you knew. But hey, you weren’t complaining!  When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting.  “What just happened?” you asked. You knew what happened of course, and you still couldn’t believe it, but you wanted to know what drove him to do this. “My eyes finally opened,” he spoke, licking his lips. “I am sorry it took me so long.” So it was jealousy that had finally done the trick.  “Well, I could think of a way or two to make it up to me...” you smirked, pulling him further down the hallway...

KILI

You worked at the pub Fili and Kili frequently visited. It was one of the few places they could leave all their royal duties (including the title) behind them and just be themselves. Sometimes they brought some of the other Dwarves of the company, but usually it was just the two of them.

Not that it made it easier for you when they were alone. Fili was the older brother and more mature one, but when he had his share of ale, all inhibitions went out the door. The same went for Kili, although he didn’t need ten mugs of ale to loosen up. He was very flirtatious by nature.  So when you heard him ask you for a kiss when you brought them their next round, you didn’t even look up. He always did this, and you always ignored it.

You didn’t know why he asked you for a kiss every single time. The first time he asked, he was so drunk you thought you misheard him. He pouted at your rejection and you promised him he would get one if he was sober. You knew he wouldn’t remember the next day. One week later, the brothers returned and Kili repeated his question when you served them their drinks. Since he was sober that time, you just laughed and shook your head. After that, it kind of became a habit. He would ask for a kiss, and you would reject him every single time.

“This calls for a kiss, don’t you think?” “I think I need you to pay for these drinks.” “Let me pay you with a kiss this time.” “Kisses don’t buy me food.” “Don’t I deserve at least one kiss?” “I’ll let you know as soon as you deserve one.”

He never gave up, and you never gave in. You hated to admit it, but it became harder and harder for you to reject Kili. Not that you were running out of comebacks, they came naturally to you. But you noticed him staring at you when he thought you weren’t looking and you started to question if this really was all just a joke to him, or if this was his really weird - but effective - way of flirting. Only one way to find out, right?

The next time they entered the pub, you were one big ball of nerves. You poured two mugs of ale and brought it to their table. Kili’s face lit up when he saw you and it almost made you throw your plan out of the window. You placed the mugs in front of them, and waited for Kili to ask for his kiss. He didn’t disappoint. “So remind me again, was it one kiss per mug or one kiss per order?” “One kiss will do,” you said. 

Before your answer really got through to him, you grabbed his collar and planted your lips on his for a short, but firm kiss. You let go of him and quickly turned around to go back to the bar so you could go hide in the back room for the rest of your shift. What were you even thinking? Kili had other plans though. 

When he finally recovered, he jumped up and grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so you bumped into his chest. “Fucking finally,” he growled, and kissed you a second time. This kiss was anything but short. Kili took his time to explore and who were you to deny him? He brushed your cheek with the back of his hand, and weaved his fingers in your hair. You had to stand on your toes because he was a lot taller than you, keeping your hands on his chest for support.

A cough from Fili made you break the kiss. “Mahal,” Kili whispered, eyes wide when he pulled back. “So does this mean you accept kisses as a means of payment now?” Fili asked, getting to his feet and pouting his lips to give you a kiss. Kili pushed him back in his seat, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Don’t even think about it!”

ÉOWYN

You watched Éowyn train with her sword. She was a skilled sword-fighter, but since she was the shield maiden, they wouldn’t allow her to fight alongside men in battle. That didn’t stop her from training and improving her skills, on the contrary... It only made her train harder.

You were absolutely mesmerized by her. Her lean, but toned figure, how she handled the sword with such grace and ferocity at the same time... You were completely lost. But there was no way she would be interested in someone like you, a mere servant. And then there was also that tiny little thing about her being your best friend...

Éowyn was fierce, and often went in discussion with anyone who dared to doubt her. But when she was around you, she was soft and bubbly. You were one of the only people who had the privilege to see her smile.

One day she asked you to help with her training. You weren’t as skilled as her, so you were a bit reluctant at first. But who were you to turn down a chance to be this close to her? You noticed she was nervous. Éowyn was never nervous. Ever. What was going on in her head? The training started and you tried to make it enough of a challenge for her. Surprisingly enough you were winning, and with a last swing of your sword, you knocked her sword out of her hands. She cheered. “That calls for a victory kiss!” Wait... what?

She crossed the distance between you and silently asked for your permission. When you nodded and tried to ignore your loud heartbeat, she placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I’ve waited so long for you to do this,” you whispered. “All you had to do was ask,” she winked.

A/N: Don’t forget to reblog and comment or comment in your tags, I do read them!

[actlikeyoudidntdoit]

ASSASSIN’S MODERN DAY PROFESSIONS

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ALTAÏR

College Professor

-We all know that Altaïr has spent most of his life teaching, so what better job does he have than a college professor?

-He knows what he’s talking about, that much is certain, but sometimes he gets a little too lost in his lesson to realize that his students are scratching their heads. So it’s normal to have students staying after class, but they leave understanding every word of what he said.

-He’s not the fun teacher, but he’ll be able to teach you what you need and still remember it at the end of the day.

-He’s pretty lenient, and even with the obnoxious students who cause a scene, he calmly gets them to at least do their work.

-Other teachers always use him as a reference when it comes to the perfect teacher.

EZIO AUDITORE

-I can see Ezio being a public speaker since he’s not all that scared of crowds and spends a lot of time giving advice, so I think he’d really enjoy being able to help a crowd of people whose lives are falling apart

-Ezio would be the single anchor in a sea of storms because he always seems to have an answer for everything. He’s a man whose words are turned into inspirational quotes that people hang on their walls.

-When he says that things will be okay, no one doubts him since they know that he lost his father and his brothers very early on and that it took years for Ezio to accept the loss the way he had. If he could soldier through it, why couldn’t they?

-He doesn’t involve himself in politics, finding them to be a waste of time and breath despite how many people ask for his input on the political status of the country he’s staying in.

-He speaks to a lot of people in private, letting them speak their minds and giving his advice if they want it. He’s a therapist without a license, and you always feel hopeful about life leaving his office.

Connor

Construction or Sports

-This boy was designed for heavy work, and I’ve heard some good points in saying that not only would he be amazing at sports, but he’d also really enjoy it too.

-In my personal headcanon, I think he’d be a good construction worker as well. Not the high end kind that build skyscrapers or anything, but I can see him building simple houses for small communities, taking the lower jobs that can’t afford much help like the sweetheart he is. He definitely volunteers to make houses for the homeless.

-Since most of the homeless he helps don’t have much money, he makes sure to offer them baked goods because he’s definitely a baker.

Edward Kenway

-As a young man, he joins the navy

-Once he’s on his own, he buys his own boat and treats it like royalty.

-He’s not a pirate himself, but he does let less legal people on board for a price. At the time, it was just an easy cash pay since people paid good money when they were desperate.

-When he’s older and gets a grip on some of the people he’s helping (like the REALLY bad criminals) he quickly lets it go.

-Yet after seeing some of the more decent people and the places they were running from, I can see him being a sort of smuggler, but instead of smuggling drugs or weapons, he sells medicines, canned foods, and clothes to the regions where they’re scarce or hard to pay for.

-When he’s older and found a fortune over time, he starts up his own official charity, hiring various sailers to sail supplies to more places than he himself could alone.

SHAY CORMAC

-Okay, I have to say it. Shay would DEFINITELY be an FBI spy. Maybe I haven’t thought of it as heavily as I could, but he just strikes me as a man who could kill someone in plain sight and still not be seen.

-He already knows everything he can about infiltrating and getting vital information

-He knows exactly how to manipulate people to get what he wants.

-He’s like Macgyver but as an agent.

-He does things that make sleeping at night impossible, but he tells himself that every long night for him is another person somewhere else having a peaceful night, and peaceful nights means he’s doing his job. Right?

-Constantly questions his morals, but he can’t bring himself to stop, not knowing that he’d do if he stopped, because at least here he’s doing something. He’s contributing.

-That and maybe I might or might not want to see Shay in a suit 🤷‍♀️

AVELINE

-Actress. And a damn good one. She’s one of the kind of people who get paid millions each job and gives most of her cash on people who really need it. Not only that, she’s a fan favorite everywhere.

-She takes extra jobs in smaller businesses barely staying afloat, and public morality boosts has nothing to do with it. In fact, she keeps her fame life out of everything, choosing to see it just as another job.

-I can see her sharing similarities of Zendaya or Zoe Zaldana

ARNO DORIAN

-High school teacher or actor, I can’t decide.

-Because let’s be honest, this guys brain is more wrinkled than a raisin. He knows his stuff.

-He’s good at simplifying what he’s saying, and that happens to be a very useful trait when it comes to teaching.

-If he was a teacher, he’d be a damn good one, that’s for sure. No one will fail his class because he’s so good at explaining things, and he’d be the one who actually cares for his students.

-When it comes to acting... just admit that Arno’s a theater boy through and through. If you need proof, he’s the only one with a crazy amount of fancy robes and colors. FOR GODS SAKE HE OWNS A THEATER! So on modern day, I could totally see him as an actor as well.

-He’d be the Ewan Mcgregor of the modern day, because everyone recognizes him from SOMEWHERE because he’s really tested his acting ability on multiple various roles. Well read, charming, and level headed, he’d totally rock being an actor. He’s good friends with Aveline, and when they both have time in their busy schedules, they stop by for coffee and fill each other in on their life.

JACOB

-Boxing

-I saw the photoshops of Jacob in boxer life, and I have not been the same because oh my god that is amazing.

-but absolutely he’d be a boxer. He’s the shortest guy in the entire match, but he doesn’t need a stool to knock you on your ass before you can laugh about it.

-His opponents are lucky shattering bones is against the rules because he knows how to make someone wish their dad wore a condom.

-A lot of people think that his rounds must be rigged, and his sister had to physically hold him back every time Jacob threatened to give him a close up of how ‘rigged’ his fights were.

-Jacobs a powder keg, so it doesn’t take much to make him explode, and a lot of the less respectful people he has to fight picks particularly sore spots to do just that.

-He might be pissed, but his punch isn’t the only thing that stings. He knows exactly what words to use, and when they’ve gone too far, he doesn’t hold back.

-Might have a temper, but he has a good heart despite it all. He visits schools and completely turns his personality around with kids. He signs autographs, takes pictures, and makes sure that every one of them have a fun day because he knows that there’s some kids in this school that don’t have those kinds of days. He pays the school for field days each time, making sure they all get out. They bring out the scooters, parachutes, capture the flag, and ‘wrestling’ matches for the kids who want to face him. He loses every time. He never has a bigger smile on his face than when he has children fans walk up to him.

EVIE

-She is totally a lawyer and you can’t change my mind.

-Logic and Facts are her strongest weapons, and so far she has yet to lose a debate.

-Every other lawyer knows that seeing Evie walk into court is an instant death sentence, because like her brother, her words are sharp as a knife and her mind is even sharper.

-If they didn’t look identical, no one would believe that she would be related with Jacob the hot headed boxer, because she was level as water and was near impossible to make angry, but god help the poor sod that presses her.

-Her clients almost always get the best case scenario with Evie by their side by how good she is.

-Also like her brother, children are her weak spot, and her hard composure melts whenever she needs to speak to a child in the witness post, making sure that the child feel comfortable unlike the others that drill the kid with questions when they’re too skittish to answer. She takes her time and gets the kid feeling safe, and gently asks their side.

-Evie might not do it as a profession, but Evie has beaten Jacob in the boxing ring in the gym. She knows damn well how to handle herself, knowing she’d need it since she’d be fighting corrupt politicians or gang members who have too often tried attempts at her life. Every time she emerged unscathed, using the attempt at even more evidence against them and insuring a spot in jail. No one dared try attacking her again after that.

BAYEK

-I’m thinking police officer or motivational speaker for trauma.

-Either way, he’s a guardian who takes care of the people he’s in charge of. He knows words well, and having been down the dark path himself, he knows exactly what people experience and what they want to hear.

-Be the change you want to see in the world, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

-He’d be a well respected officer, and he’s not afraid of telling off a comrade if someone is wrongfully accused. He’s not very popular in the police station, but as long as he’s doing his job, he’s satisfied.

-He’s saved several people over the course in his life, and his word is well honored since he’s on no ones side. He sees things as what they are and doesn’t twist events he disagreed with to his point of view. Even if it hurts him personally, he doesn’t lie.

-He’s divorced, but they’re still best friends with each other and visit when they can.

AYA (ran out of gifs. Sorry)

-She is hands down a self defense teacher for women

-She sells hidden self defense tools for less than ten dollars, always sure to keep constantly supply of them since many have confessed that they’ve saved them from dangerous situations.

-Like her former husband, she’s a protector and makes sure she provides her students with the best.

-She teaches children what to do if they ever get grabbed, and she’s had many parents in years thanking her when that information ended up saving their child’s life.

ALEXIOS

-Hands down he is a stunt double

- Preferably Arno’s since he relies more on flexibility than brute strength. Then there’s the fact that they look similar enough in features

-He does the moves that would probably be safer if they were just CGI, but he hates those computers with a passion, preferring to do the real thing instead of giving out something fake. He’s broken more bones than he can count, and the companies he works with always have a medic on standby when something goes wrong.

-They tried convincing him that they only needed him for a few spots, but after realizing that he wanted this (and him assuring them that he doesn’t bother with suing), they let him do his thing. The results are fruitful since the most nitpicky movie fans are absolutely thrilled when there’s a particular move done right.

-He teaches Arno a good few things about how to do action scenes, and they’re definitely good friends.

KASSANDRA

-Roller Derby

-She lives for throwing people and smacking them without being judged for it, so the Derby’s her safe spot.

-Everyone on the opposing team is terrified of her, always scared when they see her devilish smile, knowing that they’re about to get their asses handed to them. Like her brother, she’s an adrenaline junky, and when she’s not doing the derby, she’s going off into car races in a water trench. She’s surprisingly very good with cars too, knowing the inside and out of a car like the back of her hand.

-She loves it when men try to catcall her. It gives her a perfect opportunity to punch them in the face.

-She loves the races themselves because no one expects it. Sometimes she pretends to act like a beginner and absolutely slaughter them, giving them a nice wink before driving out with her cash.

-Only has a soft spot for the girl who visits her on weekends. She’s practically her older sister, and there will be hell to pay if her favorite kid gets hurt in any way.

EIVOR

-BACA(Bikers Against Child Abuse)

-The moment I saw this, I instantly thought about them.

-they would absolutely be a part of this

-Looking all badass in leather while turning into a softie for children? That’s Eivors entire character right there.

-Eivors not afraid to get physical with an abuser. They’d beat the abuser to a pulp and right after take the child out for ice cream.

-No one messes with Eivor, knowing that their lenience was stretched only for children. Anyone else tried to pressure her? Your teeth would be shattered and they’d wear the bits for a necklace.

-Children are much more brave around them because they’re tougher than their parent and on their side, so they’re not afraid to give them to the police