#a bloody croissant

[themancorialist]

Hilton Street, Manchester.

[tinypigeonlord]

I thought I’d seen it all, but I guess I can add ‘people on tumblr getting mad at someone calling a cockatoo in a video post a ‘parrot’ in the description’ to my list now of stupid things tumblr folks get mad over, lmao.

[alexturntable]

chris_bloodfilms Met my hero on a train. This story is long so scroll if you cba reading. It’s 2005, a band explodes on MySpace. They’re dressed like you and their lyrics are a mirror to your life. Bleeding heck, who the fuck are the Arctic Monkeys? After 19 years on repeat it’s now 2024. Myself and @/conor_bloodfilms are travelling back from Paris. We arrive at Gare Du Nord and Duffy stops in his tracks. He whispers to me “I think that’s Alex Turner.” “F**k off!” I immediately reply. I gaze over at a guy wearing a leather jacket with long brown hair, his face adorned with aviators. We should probably stop staring as it’s getting weird, sexually and aggressively weird. Turns out it is bloody Alex Turner, the man who’s provided the soundtrack to my life! He strolls past and disappears into the Parisian platform crowd. A missed opportunity. We board our train back to London. We look to our left and there’s Alex. Sitting in his seat accompanied by a notepad. He’s probably writing the next Arctic Monkeys hit “Two gawping pricks on a train”. We really need to stop staring. I tell Duffers I’m going in, he stops me. Reminds me that I’m a fully functioning adult and not to create a scene. Christ, he’s right! I feel like I’m 15 years old again, someone get me a Strongbow and whack Dancing Shoes on, kin hell lad! Eventually myself and Con engage, it’s a surreal experience. Alex is polite and returns conversation in a soft friendly manner. The whole situation is just bloody lovely. I awkwardly ask if I can take his portrait, fully aware that it could result in an awkward exchange and destroy this wonderful moment. He smiles and obliges, he’s effortlessly cool, asks for direction and I take a few snaps. We disembark the train, I felt quite emotional and that’s embarrassing to admit. Maybe it was the jet lag, the caffeine and croissant overload? Or maybe it was just the rekindling of my youth. This all might sound trivial, however, for me these portraits are deeply personal serving a reminder that life is a series of fortunate events and when fully appreciated can conjure up some pretty awesome memories.

[tojivu]

love, kisses & croissants ⋆ naoya zenin

an. naoya you've infiltrated my brain.... ib the song where the lyrics go "i love you i love you i love you"

cw. sfw. naoya is kind of an asshole. gn!reader, but not proofread so please lmk any gender references if i made any.

playing. because she goes by the 1975.

naoya zenin would press kisses onto the soft, supple skin of your cheek as soon as he wakes. no good morning, no stretch — he reaches and bends from where he is to let his lips latch onto you.

two kisses later and he's finally greeting you, whether you're awake or not.

"morning." his voice is raspy, throat dry from the cold air of the bedroom you two shared. he brings his fingers to brush the stray hairs away from your face.

how naoya loves your expression when you sleep: an overwhelming need to hold and kiss you, make you feel as comfortable as possible so you can continue your slumber — how he finds you prettiest when you're unaware of it.

your eyelids flutter as the sunlight seeping in through the curtains sting; a long exhale leaves your lungs and you find yourself inching closer to naoya — who was warm amidst the temperature of the room.

he lays face up, shirt nowhere to be found (as usual). your husband was always one to show off even when sleeping — you're able to feel his skin graze your fingertips, some spots more prominent than others due to scarring: you've memorised the position of each and every one of them on his body.

"morning, naoya." you smile lazily at the man under your touch. he doesn't smile back, but you think the way his arm pulls you closer says everything his face doesn't.

naoya zenin was a puzzle, most days — it took you a long time before you could even touch him without earning a complaint or an irritated expression.

"stop touching me." a grunt and an eye roll, every single time.

it was the night after your wedding. you remember it vividly, the order of events engrained into your mind and heart. you never want to forget the hour that naoya let you love him.

it wasn't much, and you think if you told anyone that they might laugh in your face: most couples would scoff and say that the first kiss should have happened long before the knot was tied.

you think you would've gone the whole marriage without any touching. before the ceremony, naoya would only let you hold his hands or fix his tie — mundane things that held no passion — or maybe very little, not enough to remind you both you were to be married.

it was naoya who pulled you in that night, hands on your hips as he pressed his lips onto yours. it's inexperienced, and you want to giggle but you know you can't (due to the crowd and family attending the ceremony). it would be much too embarrassing for your husband.

when he pulls away, his lips are glossy and his eyes are enlarged — as if he's never experienced this feeling before.

it's just then that naoya zenin realises he loves kissing you. the feeling of your lips so close to his skin, the feeling of laying on clouds when he tastes your favourite lip balm. the feeling of you.

he felt embarrassed that his clan witnessed such a thing. naoya's weak in the knees in front of you, someone who was nowhere near his power or authority. he finds it annoying just how much control you have over him, but he thinks it's okay — for now — as long as you don't betray him.

he hopes you don't.

naoya doesn't bother saying a word in the morning, only kissing you where he feels you need to be — your forehead, wrist, cheek, lips, jaw, neck.

the small discovery he made on the night you two got married had his mornings set for life: a kiss as soon as he woke, a gentle 'morning' followed by another kiss. he's hooked.

sometimes he returns all bloodied from brawls: wounded but still the victor, dragging himself into the home he shares with you (and the servants he keeps around) — naoya appreciates your warm embrace and the soft kisses you pepper on his face. you complain about how he smells like metal, but you hold him anyway.

"[name]," naoya snaps you out of your reminiscing-like daydream. "we should go out for breakfast today."

you roll your eyes at the fact that this is what your husband stopped your trip down memory lane for.

"we have chefs for a reason, naoya." you remind him, as if he doesn't know that already — he orders them around almost all the time, mostly due to your random cravings.

"i know."

"then?" you ask, "i thought you hated being around random people."

"i don't like being around lowlives," he clarifies. "but we could spend some time together. if you want."

"if i want?" you giggle, poking at his cheeks. this would've gotten you killed if you were with the naoya you knew all those years ago. "i didn't know you cared about what i want."

"don't act like that." naoya's grip around your waist tightens, your stomach pressing against the side of his abdomen. "just say yes or no. i'm a very busy man."

"are you making space for me in your tight schedule, busy naoya?" you tease. his ears burn a bright shade of red, and he tuts. "i'm feeling really special. you're so good to me."

"cause you are," naoya admits. how vulnerable he seemed that it made him feel like throwing up. "[name]."

naoya zenin was a puzzle, yes, but you think he's gotten easier to solve by now. a kiss and some praise and he's all set, sarcastic or not — whatever you say has him weak in the knees. it's almost scary how much power you hold.

"i love you, my busy man," your hands cup his cheeks and turn his head towards you, and you press a quick kiss onto his lips. "i'm thinking about croissants."

you earn a flustered naoya, cheeks reddened and eyebrows furrowed to hide his crystal clear expression. he was starting to feel his heart pound.

"we can get croissants. i know a good place."

"it's probably expensive, then." you roll your eyes.

"who do you think i am?"

"my dearest husband." you flirt. it hurts to be so cheesy this early in the morning, but you think it's okay because it's got naoya blushing like a tomato.

he doesn't say anything. naoya is fighting the deafening sound of his heartbeat in his ears and the electricity he feels flowing through his veins, along with the smile creeping up on his face.

"i love you," he replies a minute later.

"i never knew you were a romantic, naoya."

"i love you," he repeats, as if you're losing your hearing. "i love you."

the words flow like water. it's a disgusting phrase he never thought he'd utter, but here he is — repeating it like a prayer to you.

"i heard you the first time." you giggle again, running your fingers through his hair. "loud and clear."

"i love you, [name]," he mumbles as his eyes get gentler by the second, his gaze softening the more you play with his locks. he thinks he'll fall back asleep any moment now. "i love you so much."

"i know, naoya," you assure him, head drawing closer to his to peck his forehead. "and i love you more."

"you can beat me in very little things, [name]." naoya replies, eyes blinking slowly at yours. "this isn't included."

"i beat you at wii that one time. you're terrible at wii golf."

"i play real golf," he scoffs. "not in some video game for children. it's harder in real life."

"such a sore loser."

you suppose you're a sore loser, too. you'd never be able to beat him at the 'i love you' game — he'd never let you — but that didn't mean you couldn't try.

you've got plenty of time, anyway.

041223 — Bue i'm gonna cry this is so ?!??? idk what this even IS

[themirrorballfriend]

Bad Day | Rosekiller

965 words, Trigger Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Mild Swearing

Barty woke up in a cold sweat with shaking limbs. It was the same recurring nightmare he's been having weeks in a row.

He's in his father's study undoubtedly being lectured on how much of a disappointment he is, when he lifts his wand off the desk and utters the spell. "Crucio." He is immediately hit with excruciating pain leaving him a crumbling mess on the floor of his father's study.

A quick Tempus charm told him it was four o'clock in the morning. If his uneven breathing was anything to go by, he would not be getting anymore sleep that night.

By the time he actually managed to close his eyes for a bit, the first rays of sunlight had already started peaking through his blinds.

The next time he woke up to a shrill voice screaming "CROUCH!"

His father's voice? No, his father only ever addressed him as Bartemius.

"CROUCH!" The voice yelled again.

He finally identified the voice as his roommate's "WHAT!" he replied, getting sick of the incessant yelling.

"Get the fuck up, man. Breakfast ends in five minutes. And we have potions with Slughorn in fifteen." his roommate spoke, before promptly exiting the room.

He flung himself out of bed and haphazardly put on his uniform before rushing to the Great Hall with just enough time to snag a single croissant. Great. Just Great.

Because of his late start to the morning, he had missed out on his favourite routine of all time. You see most people often assume that because of Barty's careless nature, he didn't have any routines or rituals but he did. And his favourite one was always spending breakfast with Evan. If and how long he spent the morning with Evan would shape the mood for his entire day. And it was pretty clear that today was going to a shite fest.

Potions with Slughorn was a drag and to make it worse it was with the Hufflepuffs. All the old man did was read off the book the entire time, then assign five parchments on the uses of Stewed Mandrake in potions.

Next was Advanced Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. The lack of sleep had made it quite hard to concentrate as it was, but at some point James and Sirius had thought it would be a good idea to start hexing each other halfway through the lesson.

One of James hexes had been redirected by one of Sirius's spells and had ended up hitting him, turning half his hair red, and the other half yellow.

"Loving the new look, Crouch." Sirius sniggered. James barely managing to hold in his laugh next to him.

"You absolutely pieces of shite!" Barty shouted. "Bloody wankers, the two of you!"

"Detention, Mr.Crouch!" McGonagall spoke, her voice firm and lips downturned into a scowl.

His day didn't improve after that. During Arithmancy, his seatmate had dropped his inkwell causing Barty's hands and shirt to be covered in ink. That was, as they say, the straw that broke the thestral's back. He simply stood up and started walking out of the classroom, ignoring the Professor's words of protest.

As he was walking down the hall, muttering to himself, he slammed into someone.

"Oi! Bugger o—" he stopped when he realised who he had walked into.

Looking up, he was met with a pair of crystal blue eyes and blonde curls.

"Bee, what's wrong?" Evan asked in that deep, calming voice of his.

"Huh?" Barty said, still staring at him with a bewildered expression on his face, as if Evan had asked the most bizarre question he had ever heard.

"I asked if you were alright." Evan sighed.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" Barty asked, avoiding even the thought of his less than stellar day.

"Reg and I skipped Divination. He's with Potter at their dorm. What happened to you?" Evan prodded.

And that's when Evan finally took a good look at Barty. His hair was out of sorts and his hands were stained blue with ink. But his eyes were by far the worst. They were sunken in with dark purple bags underneath them.

"Come on." Evan told him, lacing their hands together and leading him to the dungeons.

Evan quickly muttered the password and guided them to the dorm. He then locked the door and sat Barty down on his bed.

"Tell me what happened." Evan said, careful to keep his voice both gentle and firm.

"Nothing happened. I'm fine. In fact, I really need to getting class. Sprout will have my head, if I'm late to Herbology." Barty replied, not meeting his eyes.

To anyone else, it might've looked like Barty was fine. But, him and Barty have been together for eight months, and in that time Evan had learned to read him like a book.

Evan always knew if Barty was lying to him, because he could never look him in the eye.

"Listen Bee, this doesn't work— we don't work, if there are secrets between us. If you're having a bad day, that's fine. But you can't lie to me and pretend that you're okay, if you're not feeling well, you can talk to me about it. I will always listen. It's my duty as your friend, and your boyfriend. I know it's hard to talk about things that are bothering you, but all I ask is that you try, for me." Evan said, his voice laced with love and sincerity.

Tears pricked Barty's eyes, making him think of all the times Evan had tried for him, in spite of all the hardships.

That's how Barty found himself with his head in Evan's lap, telling him all about his terrible day. All while Evan stroked his hair and comforted him, until he eventually fell asleep.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

If you have any requests, put them in my asks box🩵

[loviingpedri]

where was i? - trent a.a

prompt: where trent redeems himself as a father.

warnings: cursing, some angst (fluff at end), grammar issues

Part 2 -> Part 1 here

my secret

you couldn’t have asked for a better best friend. she broke into tears finding out your pregnancy. she cried harder knowing she was gonna help you with your little angel.

evelyn, your best friend, the one who could do it all even held your hand while in labor. its been a year since the birth of your baby, Aria Alexander-Arnold. you adored her. practically, everyone adored her.

it was still a question who her father was. but that was your secret. you lied to everyone about aria’s last name. everyone was fooled about her name, but only you knew she was a proud alexander-arnold. people speculated trent being the father with your public relationship, he made it easier by revealing your breakup by going out with a couple friends the next night, then getting caught making out with another girl.

you never cared on what trent did. it only mattered that he just stayed out of your life. you were living your best life.

“y/n, when are you ever going to tell trent?” evelyn spoke softly as aria was still sleeping.

“i don’t know. life has been so much better with just aria and i. i’m just afraid.” you sighed in distress.

“afraid of what? i know he broke your heart, but i still would think he would want to be apart of his child’s life.”

fidgeting with your fingers, “i just don’t want to get hurt again. what if he doesn’t wanna be apart of her life. or if he takes her away from me.”

“trent is probably the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated even if the breakup was messy. i say he’s the only one evelyn-approved.”

“i’ll think about it,” finishing your sentence, a cry was heard. you both nodded at each other before getting up to comfort her. opening aria’s room door, she was already standing in her crib. her tears stopped falling and the brightest smile appeared on her face. she is the most precious thing you’ll ever need in life. “hi angel. how was your sleep?” covering her face with kisses.

evelyn walked into the room. “y/n, it’s pretty cool today. i think you should take her out. i have a meeting at work, so please enjoy the weather for me.”

“good luck, you’re gonna need it.” evelyn kissed aria on the cheek before leaving. “let’s get you dressed.” it was a mystery where you were going. yet, you needed time out of the house.

soon, both you and aria had your fall outfits on ready to fight against the cold. putting her in the stroller and locking the door, you were prepared to just go anywhere. holy shit were you freezing. walking to the cafe a few miles away, hot chocolate was much needed. placing your order and sitting down, you paid no attention to the customers walking in. mid way feeding aria a piece of a chocolate croissant,

“y/n?” you knew that voice. looking up you saw a familiar face.

“hello jude.”

“oh my god, it’s really you. bloody hell.” jude attempted to hug you, but realized the stroller. “babysitting?” he looked so confused but was trying to process where you’ve been for the past 2 years.

“no, this is my daughter. her name is aria.” you put on a smile on your face trying to play it off like it wasn’t his good friend’s child.

“daughter? y/n, you had a baby? who’s the father?” jude was no stranger to you. he had one curious mind, especially in a state of panic. “wait, sorry. that’s none of my business. i’m just happy you’re doing well. it’s been awhile since i’ve seen you.”

you nodded at him. although jude never did anything, you were just afraid of trent finding out. you needed to prepare yourself, because word is gonna get out through the national team within a few hours. “it has been awhile. how have you been? playing for madrid, yeah?”

“my blood runs is madrid now. of course, it still has some part of england in it. i’ve gotta go to practice now. i’ll keep in touch, please don’t block me on instagram.” you laughed off the joke. trent must’ve tried to see what you were doing, only to be blocked on all social media platforms.

——————————————

trent’s reveal

“man, i need to clean out this closet.” trent spoke to marcus.

“shit looks mad trent. what even happened.” marcus picked up a shirt off the ground and threw it on the other side of the closet trying to avoid the millions of piles of clothes.

“went crazy, lost of organization. i could name a lot of things.”

“went crazy after losing the love of your life. has she ever unblocked you yet?” trent was doing worse than you after the breakup. he turned into a mess after learning he couldn’t reach you anymore.

“i don’t wanna talk about it. maybe i should clean this corner, i’ve never worn clothes from this section in forever.” taking clothes from the hangers and throwing it in a bag for donation. a box was revealed. “what the hell is that?” trent picked up as marcus appeared in curiosity. trent had 0 recollection of the box being there. opening it, he almost dropped it after seeing the words, “baby alexander-arnold coming on -/—/—“ and the pregnancy test right next to it.

“what the fuck.” rashford’s mouth immediately fell.

“is this a joke? who put this here? marcus are you trying to fuck with me.”

“no man. that’s a sick joke to put on you.

trent’s mind started to fill with idea of fatherhood. he didn’t dislike the idea, but the mystery behind the box was still trying to piece together. he set the box aside. stress filled his mind. “let’s go. we’ve got practice to be at.” rashford seemed more shocked then anything. pulling his hair at the fact trent just left the topic alone like nothing.

-

arriving at practice, just a bit of warmups. kicking the ball back and forth. trent tried to take his mind off who put that box there. marcus taking concerned glances at him, knowing he was out of it.

suddenly, jude ran into the field.

“TRENT YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHO I JUST SAW.” caught off guard, trent had no time to process what jude just said.

“what?” almost falling over since jude’s rough push of excitement and shock.

“Y/N. I SAW Y/N.” everyone’s face dropped at the sound of your name. you were loved by the national team. not to mention, the shit show behind the breakup and the reason why trent had to be at therapy for most of the season. “and you’ll never gonna believe it, but she had a baby.” the word baby rung around in his head. the news just got shocking each time.

“a baby? what?” jude nodded his head.

“she said her name is aria. she looked about one years old. mate, she kind of looked like you if i’m being honest.” the reaction of the last sentence was mixed. he wanted to be the father, but what if he wasn’t. he didn’t want it to be all in his head.

“hold on, you said 1?” harry kane joined into the conversation. seeming like he wanted to make a point. jude nodded at his question, still curious what was about to be said. “trent, when did you break up with y/n?”

“i don’t know. maybe two years ago.” it was impossible to trent that he was the father, but it was still likely.

“you broke up with her around late february. 9 months later, it would be november. mate, it’s december already. i mean, it’s very likely it’s yours.” trent wanted to pass out at that moment.

“i’ve still got access to y/n’s instagram.” saka said. pulling it up, a birthday post to aria was made. “posted on november -“

almost falling to the ground. “that was close to the date i broke up with her, just 9 months after. jude, where did you see her?”

“at ‘place’. what are you doing?” if trent kept up the same speed during the world cup, fifa would’ve upgraded his stats. he grabbed his bag and ran quicker than ever. it’s been 2 hours since jude saw you, but you couldn’t walk that far with just a stroller. trent was praying you’ll be around there.

——

parking his car and running around. he saw a face. someone who he’ll never forget.

“evelyn. where is y/n?” evelyn’s eyes widened. fuck. she wasn’t prepared for trent to know today. she saw your text saying how you saw jude. news must travel fast around here. “please, answer me. you can yell at me again, but please tell me where she is.” it was bold of him to show up in front of evelyn. he got a loud yelling session trying to use her to talk to y/n again. she could see he was desperate in his eyes. she was confused on what to do.

“excuse me while i take this call.” she patted his shoulder before walking a distance away to safely call you. trying to whisper, “y/n help. trent is looking for you. i think jude told him.”

“oh my fucking god. what am i going to do?” you tried to remain calm as possible so your baby doesn’t think of anything.

“get dressed, it’s time for aria to meet her father.”

“what?” with no questions allowed, the call ended. you grabbed aria to get ready quickly since there was no time for fighting.

evelyn walked back to trent. clearing her throat, “i don’t know what you’ve heard. i’m going to answer your question now. yes, that is your child.” the word child was ringing in his ears. he didn’t know how to react. did he want to cry or did he want to run away? “do you want to meet her.”

“of course.” he nodded quickly. he followed evelyn like a stray dog. she knocked on the door to signify that he was there. you took a deep breath. opening the door, you saw the two people who you’ve spent your entire life with. evelyn walked in, trying to give you two space. “y/n,” he wanted to hug you. you only had one arm available as aria was resting on your shoulder. aria heard the unfamiliar voice and turned to look at him. it was true, she looked just like him.

“hi trent. very nice of you to show up.” you patted your skirt to reduce wrinkles and ease the awkwardness. “this is aria.” for the first time, aria flashed a big smile at him. she was never good with strangers, but this might be different. you moved out of the doorway and urged him to come inside.

“can i hold her?” you nodded at him. easily, aria was all over him. “does she have my last name? i mean it’s totally fine if-“

“yeah, she does.” aria alexander-arnold is the only thing running through his mind. probably the only thing he’ll ever need to think about.

“y/n, i’ve been trying to get into contact with you. i mean where have you been.”

“where was i? taking care of my daughter. sorry, i didn’t wanna seem like a distraction.” the both of you knew very well what you meant by the word distraction. you could see regret running through his veins. “i just wanted to ask you, where were you? you said you wanted to get into contact, but you didn’t try harder.”

“i understand my mistakes. i’ve missed the prime of my child. nonetheless, i missed your entire pregnancy. i promise to be devoted to both of you. can we start over?”

“it’ll be hard to not say no. you are the father of my child and high school sweetheart. i think it’s better if we do start over. the three of us, as a family.”

“we’ll always be together, forever.”

from now on, there would be no secrets.

——————————————————

author’s note: check out my poll! thanks for all the support everyone.

[theblue6ook]

Our Stupid Smart Kids

Summary: Y/N’s interview didn’t exactly go as planned, but don’t worry John and Alfred have got it all figured out. [B (23) & Y/N (21)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Well hello there. If you liked this story, it’s a part of my “Out of My League” series. There will be more to come ;)

Alfred had known John a long time. He’d known him since Bruce’s Gotham Academy graduation gala, which he pleaded not to attend. The florist had a mishap, and John and his wife Dorthie picked up the slack and had several arrangements sent over to the manor for free as a way to introduce their new business. Alfred reimbursed them, of course, but he also highly respected them.

They’d often catch up during lunch or get coffee. They’d been meeting up more frequently since Dorthie passed away, and Alfred was happy he could be there for John. Currently, they sit at The Little Cafe, a French-styled coffee emporium only a block away from his Flower Shop. Alfred's choice, of course.

“I just don’t get it, Pennyworth,” John started, mouth half full of a chocolate croissant. “She’s so god damn smart, and I’m not kidding either, but she just can’t - ugh, I don’t know.”

“I don’t know what to do with these bloody kids either,” Alfred shook his head, sipping his tea. They’d often do this, talk about the respective people in their lives. Alfred would pick John’s brain now and then about what to do with Bruce without going into too much detail, and John would do the same about Y/N and Carrie.

John swallowed hard and went in for another bite, "She is stubborn as hell. I know something's up, but it's like she would rather die than tell me. She's such a pill. It's ridiculous." 

He inhaled deeply, shaking his head as he looked out the window. 

"Don't get me started on stubborn," Alfred rolled his eyes. "Trying to get Bruce into the office is like playing a game you can never win. He'd rather faff around."

They sat in silence for a moment. John finished the rest of his croissant and didn't take his eyes off the road. Alfred could tell John was in deep thought. He appeared to be doing some sort of mental calculation. Eventually, John sat his coffee down in a serious manner, leaning back into his chair. He finally looked over at Alfred.

"How long have we known each other?"

"Does it matter?" Alfred leaned forward and chuckled. 

"I know, but let's say it's been about seven years, give or take," he grinned, "In all that time, I've grown to trust you as you have to me."

"What is this about-"

"Now," he interrupted. "I know we have a silent agreement not to pry, but I think we could help each other here."

“What do you have in mind?”

"Well, Y/N has way too much on her plate to be worrying about bills, and she's great at bossing people around," he smiled. "Your Bruce clearly needs someone to tell him what to do and has more money than he knows what to do with. You see where I'm going with this?"

"You want me to give her the assistant's job," Alfred grinned. "If she needs help with money, I could always cut her a check-"

"Oh god no," he laughed. "She's too stubborn for that, but she would get him working."

"You would think," Alfred looked tiredly down at his tea. "They all end up quitting eventually."

“You don’t understand,” John smiled. “After Dorthie died, I was a mess. Didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. The store was in shambles. Then, Y/N came back from school. She put my ass into gear. She a fixer.”

Alfred looked hesitant, “I’m not sure, John. Master Bruce can be persistent, to say the least.”

“Alfred, all I’m saying is if the Mister Wayne needs to get his shit together,” he grinned confidently, “she can do it.”

[greycaelum]

Alpha Gojo 🤧

Scribbles and Doodles: Alpha Gojo Headcannons

—Businessman Alpha Gojo Satoru X Secretary Beta Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

"What? Mr. Gojo." You snap at him without looking up from your PC. Satoru sighed at the furious sound of your keyboard being beaten down by forceful fingers.

"Now, don't be like that pretty girl. Where's my 'Satoru'?" He leans down with his hands on the edges of the table, staring at his pretty secretary's evading eyes. "I didn't mean snapping earlier, you know my life would be a nightmare without you." He feels like his gut is filled with sand when you're upset with him.

𑁍 Genre: a/b/o dynamics, businessman x secretary

𑁍 CW/TW: (1.1k)— alpha-beta relationship, office romance, scenting, arguments if you squint, touchy/clingy alpha

𑁍 A/N: me imagining alpha Satoru in all black suit going to work, I'd never skip working, Sir, please *sigh* guilty distractions

• That being said, Satoru is the kind of alpha that makes heads turn when he's nearby. His presence gravitates attention to him and he's hard to read with those dark glasses covering his eyes most of the time. The fact he runs his family's conglomerate single-handedly as the uncontestable chairman of the board of directors speaks enough of the sheer authority he holds.

• Most annoying one you'll ever meet. Out of all the alphas you have met, he takes the icing for being the most irritating and condescending one. But in truth, he's a loving and affectionate alpha, that side reserved solely to his mate.

• That's why it is no surprise ladies fall on their knees for his attention. Omegas in particular chase him like a moth to fire.

• But little does everyone know, he could care less about the submissive omegas that'd do his back and call. Satoru prefers self-sufficient, honest, and a lil' naive beta who always makes his coffee bloody bitter when he's being a jerk. His eyes linger a little longer whenever you're too absorbed writing down his work for the day. Pretty lil' missus got a stray hair his fingers badly want to tuck behind your ear.

• His lil' missus is unlike the girls that beg for his attention. You're the best thing he's ever had since working. Hardworking and efficient, clumsy and outspoken sometimes, but nothing a good breather can't fix. He's chalking that off to you being a beta. It didn't take long for Satoru to trust you with almost anything. Everyone in the office is aware you're the boss's miracle drug. Every day is a peaceful day at work when the boss is busy annoying his secretary than biting his employees off.

• It's common knowledge for everyone to approach you first if they did a mistake than directly facing Satoru's wrath. That way, they could still ask you to help them face the big boss and not get fired.

"What? Mr. Gojo." You snap at him without looking up from your PC. Satoru sighed at the furious sound of your keyboard being beaten down by forceful fingers.

• Satoru treats you more thoughtfully.  Slowly knowing his smart secretary outside the office and more of a lady.

• He knows what you order at the cafe in the cafeteria every morning. He knows you like that chocolate croissant in the bakery across the building and makes a mental note to purchase it on Mondays when he knows you get the busiest from picking up what's left last week.

• He could be pretty straightforward and insensitive unintentionally but to you, it's not that hard to lower his ego and apologize than suffer your silent treatment. You know to stand your ground before the alpha.

"Now, don't be like that pretty girl. Where's my 'Satoru'?" He leans down with his hands on the edges of the table, staring at his pretty secretary's evading eyes. "I didn't mean snapping earlier, you know my life would be a nightmare without you." He feels like his gut is filled with sand when you're upset with him.

You rolled your eyes, and instead of seeing a sweet smile, your frown only grew deeper, but this time your glare met his eyes. He really didn't mean to be such an ass, but those conservative board members constantly sticking to the traditional means and blocking the new projects have reached the limit of his patience in the meeting. That leaves you dealing with damage control while torn from being summoned to your agitated boss's office only to get scolded for missing another meeting with the new investors.

"It's my fault pretty one. Y'know I never thanked you for always cleaning up the mess after me." Satoru looked at you with a genuine apology in his eyes. "How 'bout a dinner? Let's get off work early tonight."

You know your alpha boss is a stubborn one. And it still amazes you that he knows how to apologize and admit his fault. Part of you knows you're both accountable for that mistake earlier anyway.

"Then, I'll take up to your word, Sir." You closed your eyes and sighed, subtly smiling at the corners of your lips.

A pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from the back. You felt him inhale a very long breath with his face buried in your shoulders. The alpha in him feels very tempted to scent you right there and then. But the blush staining your cheeks is enough, for now...

"Mnnn, I'll see you at 5 then."

• When you finally decided to accept his courting, your alpha literally drowned you in his scent. Satoru is utterly whipped to your scent melting with his. You didn't realize how much he loves doing domestic things until you see your alpha dedicate time and effort to the simplest of your request. He's so down in providing you with anything.

• You know your alpha boss outside the conference hall is already nosy, but with your relationship getting closer and closer you find the alpha following you around, constantly teasing you just so your cheeks flare in embarrassment or irritation.

• Soon you'll realize this is just how Satoru expresses his love language. Vocal and showy, your alpha doesn't shy knowing he's the only one who can do this to his lil' pretty beta.

• Satoru prides himself on not being too possessive. it takes a major affair for him to use his caveman logic. But boy oh boy, he is quite playful in showing affection anytime and anywhere. Satoru fully trusts you, but he can't deprive himself of the joy of showing you off.

• Takes deliberately forever in scenting you. He's obsessed with it.

You tried to stop squirming and keep yourself steady on top of your alpha's lap. But his nose, trailing up and down the concave of your neck, nipping at your exposed skin makes it hard to suppress your moans and whimper, clutching your alpha's shirt in desperation.

"You like that pretty one?" Satoru looks at your dizzy eyes with delight while he kneads your hips. Your eyes are unfocused and hazy as you grip his shoulders for control. It's almost too cute but hot at the same time. Your eyes squeezed shut and nodded. "Right? Mnn, can't have you going crazy without me." Satoru chuckled and stood up, wrapping your legs around his waist to move in the bed.

—GreyCaelum,

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned image(s) and song(s) used belongs to their respective owner(s)

General Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby@aeanya@gumidreams@tender-rosiey

[poppadom0912]

Together (VI 2)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, and scary men.

Summary: Everyone in Chicago knows the signature Halstead stubbornness, but the Murray's only smell delusion

A/N: So, I made a mistake in the last chapter and forgot to add a whole section so this is the part I forgot. Sorry 😭😭

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

When you agreed to help clean up your dad's cabin, a place that had been a sort of holiday home till your mother passed away and your dad started to neglect it, you said you needed a distraction from work and this would be a nice sort of getaway from that bustling life to just be in the middle of the countryside with your brothers.

But this wasn’t what you had in mind when you said you wanted a distraction.

Currently, Will was trying his hardest to get your mind off the immense pain you were drowning in and for a while it was working. Will was a miracle worker in his own right, and you were starting to understand why his patients valued his bedside manner.

But nothing good ever lasted because curled up in his lap, his fingers running through your knotted red hair that was identical to his own curly mop while his other hand remained firm on your wrist where he could feel your pulse and he didn’t need to tell you why because you already knew the nauseous smell of death looming over you like a predator, reading to pounce the nanosecond something changed.

Deep down, guiltily, you wondered what you did to deserve all of this. It made you think the Halstead's were doomed to a lifetime of pain and perhaps you just had to come to terms with this lifestyle, one which you should’ve become accustomed to since your teenage years.

Around ten minutes ago you would say, or that’s what Will said specifically when you asked him, a man decked out in all black came down to what Will also said looks and feels like another basement and gave you food. Last time the Murray's kidnapped you, they let you starve but this time was clearly different.

With Will’s help, you sat up but most your body weight was leaning against Will. Resting your head on his shoulder, he described to you everything that was on the tray and for once, you could say that the Murray brothers surprised you in what you hoped was a in a good way.

Was this suspicious? Very much so yes but were you going to take advantage of what could be a one-off situation.

You could just about make out what they gave but Will start speaking before you could ask him to. There were two water bottles that size of his palm, a carton of grape juice which made you whine, two weird looking and most likely packet bought pb&j sandwiches and finally four plain butter biscuits.  

Despite the gruelling hours of torture you endured, food was the last thing on your mind. It had been so long since you had last eaten though, the last meal you could recollect eating was breakfast which merely consisted of a Costco croissant that you ate in the car driving to the firehouse.

Just as you were going to voice your adversity to the food, Will continued being the mother hen you and jay bullied him for.

“Y/N, I don’t care if I have to force feed you, you’re going to eat something from the place and you going to get as much liquids in you. I don’t think this is the time and place for me to be teaching you about nutrition and health.”

You groaned, mumbling to him that you weren’t hungry, but you knew your attempts were futile.

“I promise that you’ll feel a little bit better once you eat. Once we get your sugar levels up a bit, you should be feeling less faint and hopefully you’ll have enough energy to talk to me in full sentences.” Will said, a soft smile on his bloody lips when he tore one of the sandwiches into small bite size pieces, feeding it straight to you when your arm refused to move. “Or I can keep the party going since you're already losing your voice and we don’t need it to be gone completely.”

You hummed in reply. Yeah, you and practically everyone else would appreciate if you still had your voice.

Chewing slowly, you watched Will eating the other sandwich. As the two of you ate, he did mention the poor quality of the food could easily mean something was wrong, but any food was better than no food according to the emergency medicine doctor.

If anything did go wrong though, there was nothing left to patch things up.

And if things did go wrong after this, then the Murray's actions were only getting weirder.

As Will opened the bottled water, gingerly holding it up for you so you could take a few slow sips, you wondered where Jay was and if he was getting the attention he desperately needed, especially after being shot in the snow.

“Do you think Jay’s okay?”

Will stayed silent for a minute when you hoarsely whispered. The question sounded so innocent but the meaning behind it weighs heavy on both your conscious.

“I hope so, I really hope so but he’s Jay. He's not going to stop till he finds us.”

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e

[fallinforerling]

have you met before? | chapter 2 - eh

ೃ⁀➷ erling's masterlist 

ೃ⁀➷ erling's taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

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A couple of days passed by, and you found yourself missing Alfie’s presence in the early hours of the shift. His bad jokes or anecdotes were entertaining to listen to while you gave the shop the last touches for the rest of the day; now that you didnʼt have them, you were really bored. 

Well, at least you had Thomas to keep you company, but even he got sick and couldn’t make it to the shop these past few days. 

So here you are, all alone, with only the books to keep you company. 

You were restocking the bookshelves, thinking hard and deep about which books you’d “borrow” to take home. It was a silly game that you had with yourself since it was obvious that you were keeping them to yourself. None of the previously “borrowed” books made it back to the shop. Just as you were about to take the few ones you liked, the doorbell rang.

You turned with a smile on your lips, ready to welcome the new customer, when you saw the most tall, blonde, and intimidating man you’d ever seen in your life. He looked back at you with a small grin, unsure of what to do next while you kept staring at him, surprised by his physique. 

Stop, you’re being rude. 

“Welcome! May I help you?” You said, recovering from his presence. You walked behind the counter, dropping the books on a nearby stool while feeling nervous all of the sudden. 

The only thing that came to mind as you tilted your head to look at him was that he was really tall.

“Do you have cream cheese croissants, by any chance?” His voice, although deep, was very soothing. His accent reminded you of a Nordic country. It reminded you of Alfie. 

“I do! Freshly baked, may I add.” You pointed to the section where the croissants were. “I just got them out the oven like… twenty minutes ago.” 

“That’s bloody amazing. I’ll take two, please.” You smiled when he kind of cursed, but his whole attitude was so relaxed that you didn’t mind. It seemed like he didn’t even realize what he said. “Oh, and a cappuccino if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Please! Sit while I make that coffee for you.” You couldn’t help but shoot him a tiny glance as you intentionally picked the best croissants for him. He was also really cute. “Anything else?” 

“Uhm, cookies?” He said it like a question, making you giggle when he noticed it as well. “I mean, yeah, cookies. Do you have butter cookies?” 

“Good choice! They’re the most popular around here. Those are actually still in the oven… If you don’t mind waiting a bit for them.”

“I’ll wait as long as you want. Don’t worry about that.” 

And he’s nice as well? Damn, what a catch. 

“Great! Let me make that cappuccino.” Why were you feeling nervous? He was just another customer. 

A really cute, tall, handsome, blonde, customer that won’t stop looking at you, but that’s all. 

“Are you new in town?” He asked all of the sudden, surprising you a bit as you put the cup down in front of him. 

“I am, yeah.” You smiled when your eyes met, his lips already in a half-smile. “It’s been kinda difficult, but I really like Manchester. It helps that I have my little shop to keep me occupied.” 

“It’s not easy to come from a foreign country, but hey, I actually love Manchester too. It’s a bit boring when I don’t have anything to do in my free time, but it is what it is.” He took the cup, giving it a sip before resuming his chat. “Do you have friends?”

“No, no I don’t.” That was something you were really shy about. But again, you weren’t a very out-going person. “It’s very difficult to make friends, especially since I’m always in the shop.” 

He was about to answer when the alarm for the cookies rang inside the kitchen, startling you both. 

“I should get that. The cookies are on their way.” 

“Sure, take your time.” 

And you did. You took various trays full of different cookies, but even after you put them on new ones to take out and restock, you stood there, red-faced and timid about the absolute cutie that was sitting there, drinking his coffee and making small talk with you. Was he flirting or just being nice? It might be the latter, but you couldn’t help to smile at the possibility of him being a bit interested in you. 

You should stop reading so many romance books. It was rotting your brain. 

“Focus…” You whispered, taking the tray of butter cookies first before going back outside. “Here they are!” You carefully put it on the counter, showing him the contents. “How many did you want?” 

“Can I have ten?” His eyes didn’t leave your face, even when you moved around to find a bag. When you were just finishing the packaging, he stood up. “Can I also have your number with that order?” 

“My… number?” Ohmygodohmygodohmygod????

“It’s okay if you don’t want to…” He blushed a bit, and then you knew you’d regret not giving this man your number. 

“I’ll give it to you if you promise to show me around Manchester.” 

“Sounds like a deal.” 

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“Oh, my dear! And he asked for your number right away? He must be really enchanted by you. But again, who wouldn’t be? You’re a very gorgeous young lady.” Thomas was laughing as loudly as he could, enjoying a little bit too much the story of how Erling (and yes, you knew his name) asked for your number a couple of days ago. 

You were very embarrassed about the fact that the only person who was trustworthy enough to know your business was your regular customer, Thomas, who was also a sixty year old man, but you didn’t actually mind. He always gave incredible advice. 

“Yeah— We’ve been texting back and forth for a few days. I’m nervous every time I open the shop. I feel like he’s going to appear out of nowhere.” You took a deep breath, washing another cup in the sink while Thomas sat on the counter. “Do you think it’s dumb?” 

“Feeling anxious? Of course not, angel. And why on earth hasn’t he asked you out yet? Or even visited you?” You refused to laugh at his annoyed expression. 

“He’s been working a lot…” 

“Oh, yeah? And what does that lad do anyway?” 

“I dunno… He mentioned something sport related but I’m not really sure about what his role is.” You signed. “What am I gonna do, Tom? What if he’s a douche?” 

“Well, if he…” His advice was cut off by the doorbell. You both looked up, the conversation dying instantly at the sight of Erling standing there, like a few days ago, seeming unsure but with the same sweet smile that you liked from the first moment you saw him. “Fucking hell…” Thomas whispered, taking you away from the daydreaming. 

“Erling!” You fixed your hair out of habit. You felt your hands shaking just a bit as he approached both of you. 

“Hey… Sorry I didn’t stop by earlier in the week; I was a bit busy.” His voice was as soothing as you remembered. Lovely. 

You opened your mouth to reply, but Thomas’ laugh made it impossible. 

“The hell you were! Fucking shit, it’s a pleasure to see you, lad.” He tapped Erling’s shoulder with a heavy hand, looking from him to you like he couldn’t believe his own eyes. “Bloody hell, darling. When were you going to mention that you know Erling fucking Haaland?” 

“W-what?” You couldn’t hide your confusion, even if you tried to. Did Thomas knew Erling? Was his last name Haaland? Why did that ring a bell?

“Uh, nice to meet you too, mate. How’s everything going?” Even though Erling’s eyes showed surprise at Thomas’ obvious recognition, he played it cool. He accepted the old man’s hand and shook it with the strength and confidence of someone who is used to it. 

“This is unbelievable, really.” Thomas looked starstruck. Who was this guy?

“Well, I didn’t know you two knew each other?” It wasn’t actually a statement. You were asking. 

“Not at all. But I sure know this lad’s skills. Fucking beast on the pitch.” Thomas shook his head one more time before getting up from the stool. “I might be back in twenty. Are you going to still be around by then?”

“Of course, sir.” Erling’s tone was as calm as it gets. When Thomas got out of the shop, he turned to face you again, his eyes seeming to say a silent apology for whatever that was. “Happens from time to time.”

“What? Getting recognized by strangers?” You jokingly said, unsure of what to expect next. “Are you… famous or something like that?”

Erling shrugged, taking a seat on Thomas’ previous stool.

“You could say that. It’s what comes with my job.”

“Which is…?” You couldn’t handle the suspense.

“Football player.” He smiled, apparently used to dropping that bomb on people. “But I’m glad you didn’t know that.”

“Woah.” You smiled back, slightly shocked by the fact that the cute guy who asked for your number was an actual celebrity whose existence you had no idea of. “Kinda explains why you’re so fit.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to die. “I mean, you know, so muscular? Not that I really got my attention on that particular aspect, but... I should shut up.”

He looked at you like you were the most amusing person to ever walk on Earth, and then he laughed so hard you started to giggle from how contagious it was.

“No worries. I don’t mind you noticing those things about me.” He leaned a bit on the counter. “I was actually coming to see if you wanted to have dinner tonight?”

Oh. Oh, wow. It’s really happening. 

“Of course I do.” The smile you gave him almost broke your face in half. “What time?”

“Eight?” 

“Sounds like a deal.”

“Sounds like a date.” Oh. 

“A date it is.” 

And just as you were about to say something dumb for how much stuff was going on inside your head, the doorbell rang again, and Thomas was back.

“Got time to sign an old man’s jersey?”

You both laughed at the sight of him out of breath, holding two football shirts with a tight grip. 

“I sure do.” Erling stretched his hand to him, and Thomas gave him the t-shirts with such enthusiasm that your heart melted a bit. 

He was a fan.

“Thank you for doing this.” You whispered when he leaned again on the counter, taking the sharpie you gave him and carefully signing the shirts. 

“It’s not a problem.” 

Wasn’t he sweet? 

You had to restrain yourself from sighing like a schoolgirl with her first crush as he gave the shirts back to Thomas, chatting a little while before leaving, not before giving you a kiss on the cheek that made you a bit weak on the knees.

“So?” Oh, Thomas. You big old gossip. 

“I have a date tonight.”

You wouldn't have thought it was possible for a man like Thomas to scream that high, but he did, and you didn’t stop laughing for at least twenty minutes.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * ERLING’S TAGLIST

@questionable-behaviour | @koufaxx | @xjval | @nikki01234 | @evarasworld | @kynykyny | @alleyahah | @444pantheress | @football4life9 | @f1lover55 | @frankcastleonlyfans | @ironmaiden1313 | @pizzapie349

[anisespice]

“ bust your windows ” || cheater!headcannons

                       “ you should feel lucky that that's all I did. ”

synopsis: this fool underestimated just how little you tolerated cheaters.

pairing: various x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. light violence, cheating, diff ways reader deals with it, mentions of blowjobs, mentions of a foursome, and i think that’s it. feel free to lemme know if i missed anything! ッ

notes: @bagels-yummm this one’s for YOU. after reading their post about reader never showing that R A G E when it came to being cheated on, i couldn’t agree more. even tho my recent story involving that very premise didn’t have that sweet revenge plot, i am here to contribute! hope you enjoy ♡

BUST HIM UP: PHYSICALLY 

For those who want to really let him have it, you’d confront his cheating ass the moment you found out. Right as he was having a cute little lunch with his side piece, you came barreling through the door with a sardonic grin spread across your face; the instant horror on his brought you great satisfaction. 

“‘At the gym’, huh? Didn’t know the gym sold fucking croissants!”

He abruptly stood, spluttering, already trying to do damage control. But you were a raging hurricane, and he was a shitty apartment that didn’t have the correct insurance. Before he even got the chance to spew some bullshit excuse, he’s met with scorching hot reality hitting him square in the face. Not only did you throw his drink on him, but his little date’s as well, and both were still fresh. He screamed bloody murder, hands trembling as he held his boiling skin. It wasn’t hot enough to actually melt it off, unfortunately, but his sounds of agony sufficed. 

Everyone in the cafe merely watched with mixed reaction, some enthralled whilst others felt the authorities should be called. You couldn’t care less, too busy chucking the napkin holders and decorative potted-plants at him now that he was immobilized. 

“Yeah, yeah, you piece of shit! You like that? How that karma feel, huh? Wanna fuck other bitches, hm?”

By now, he was curled up on the ground. His side piece had long vanished, not wanting to stick around knowing your wrath would be directed at them next. After publicly humiliating him, you caught your breath and gazed down at his cowering figure with pure distain. He groggily begged for forgiveness, claiming it you had it all wrong, but you weren’t born yesterday. You scoffed incredulously—Did he think you were stupid? As if you didn’t have receipts.

The photos, the messages, the fact he was dumb enough to let them use the Netflix account YOU paid for. And now, he wanted to insult your intelligence? Please.

Without hesitation, you spat on him. 

Was it necessary? Probably not. But neither was cheating on someone you claimed to love more than anything, and clearly didn’t mean it. You were gonna have to carry that hurt for the rest of your life; he should be grateful you didn’t do more.

“Don’t bother coming back for your stuff. I already burned it all.” 

SHINICHIRO, takemichi, chifuyu, kazutora, OIKAWA, kyotani, tanaka, kageyama, kenma, HAWKS, mirio, denki, SHINSOU, deku, twice, [insert anyone else who would fit].

BUST HIM UP: MENTALLY 

For those who want to play the long game, you’d act none the wiser to his infidelity. It stung like nothing you’ve ever experienced before when you caught him in bed with some whore, and it took every ounce of your willpower not to set it on fire with them still in it. Because, deep down, you knew men like him only learned the hard way.

And you planned on making him suffer. 

You started by acting real sweet with him. Months of you cooking him full course meals, giving him unprompted blowjobs, massaging his aching muscles after a long day, the whole nine yards. He thought he died and went to heaven, so much so that he saw his little plaything less often now that his lovely s/o started pampering him. Man’s was so confident that he was getting away with it, he got sloppy; let his guard down.

“Honey, can I use your phone real quick? I need to look up a recipe, but I think I left mine in the car.” You asked, fluttering your lashes with cute pout on your face. He didn’t think twice, especially not when you looked at him so sweetly. But once he turned his back, your burning gaze was filled with anything but.

The doorbell rang later that evening, and you were nearly done with dinner. He raised a brow, gaze lingering on the door—Neither of you were expecting anybody, to his knowledge. As you were chopping up the last of the vegetables, you venomously called out to your boyfriend, “Answer it.”

His lips pursed at your tone, but chose to ignore it. Doing as instructed, he lazily made his way to the door. At first, he figured it was just a neighbor, but when he checked the peephole...his blood ran cold. Practically ripping the door off its hinges he hurriedly came outside and shut it right behind him, back pressed against it as he stared bewilderedly at his side piece standing before him. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He lowly hissed, harshly grabbing their upper arm in mild panic. “I told you to never come around here again, are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

The person blinked, startled but also confused. “What are you talking about? You were the one who begged me to come over. Said you dumped that nagging bitch and finally kicked them to the curb.” 

“What? I never—” he paused. Then, realization hit him like a bus. But, before the dread could even build in his stomach, the door opened behind him. A cold chill ran up his spine. 

“Oh, great! You made it just in time for dinner. My name’s [_______], the nagging bitch. So nice to finally meet you.”

RAN, RINDOU, baji, hanma, wakasa, mikey, kokonoi, izana, smiley, IWAIZUMI, mattsun, atsumu, suna, bakugou, sero, dabi, [insert anyone else who would fit].

BUST HIM UP: EMOTIONALLY

For those who want to twist the knife, you did the one thing you knew would fuck him up HEAVY. And that was to trample on his already fragile ego. 

He was very possessive, never took kindly to those with wandering eyes whenever it came to you. Always worried someone better would take you away from him, and it got worse when it came to his friends. You reassured him numerous times that it would never happen, promising that he was more than enough for you. 

Sadly, the sentiment wasn’t mutual. 

He tried to hide it from you, but eventually the guilt became unbearable. And so he came clean. This man sobbed. Cried full on ugly tears and blubbered nonsense as you fought to keep your own composure. You felt sick. After everything you did for him—Boosted his confidence, made him feel special, and where did that leave you? Broken-hearted, with grown man tears staining your good sweater.

Nothing he said was going to ease this kind of pain, and he knew that. So when you walked away, he figured that would be the last he saw of you. But, that was far from the truth.

When you showed up to his apartment unannounced a few days later, he was shocked. He already looked like complete shit, and judging based on your expression, you thought so, too. He wanted to question why you were here, but before he could get a word out, your lips roughly claimed his own as you held him by the nape. He wasn’t prepared for the clash of teeth and tongue, soft whines leaving him as you pushed him inside and toward the bedroom, distracting him from the impending shadows that trailed in behind you. 

The next thing he knew, he was tied to his bed, looking about ready to succumb to the best hate-sex of his life. However, what he didn’t expect to see were a few of his closest friends entering the room. There’s an unspoken tension that develops, alarms sounding off in his head as the last one shuts the door and locks it. What were they doing here? Why were they looking at you like that? Those same alarms only grew louder as they each wordlessly stripped off their clothes, with you soon following suit. Starting to struggle against his restraints, his heart began to pound against his chest; he didn’t consent to a foursome. 

He immediately made that known, but you merely chuckled. The sound made his stomach turn in the worst way. When he went to demand explanation, you shoved your underwear in his mouth. Despite his better judgement, homie couldn’t help how hard he got from the situation, letting out a weak moan as your hand gripped his jaw and squeezed.

You leaned over his vulnerable form, grin sharp as you glowered down at him while he struggled against the tight knots. He saw a glint in your eye that held anything but good intent—And with your next few words, he couldn’t have been more correct. 

“They’re going to fuck me. And you’re going to watch.” 

ANGRY, draken, mitsuya, sanzu, KAKUCHO, tendo, kuroo, BOKUTO, akaashi, osamu, hinata, NISHINOYA, sugawara, todoroki, kirishima, TAMAKI, shigaraki, [insert anyone else who would fit]. 

© 2022-2023 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[mothnem]

Scout's Guide to Building a Merc Team: Part 2-Snipers

Scout: Hey viewers! Scout here again, starting off with some answers from last episode. Yes. You have to change the Croissant DAILY. Spies don't want hard, stale Croissants. Be sure to replace it at the same time every day. You need to make the Spy feel safe enough in your routine to approach the trap. Now! On to the near mythical Sniper!

Snipers are solitary creatures, they will find wide open areas with a single tall perch to reside in. So as you can see pans the camera around to show a large flat field with a single tower in the middle this is a perfect spot for a Sniper and... if you look closely... you can see the glint of light off of his scope. Now, I know this particular Sniper is an Australian variant. They carry big ass knives as well to protect them against hostile Spies in close quarters.

Now, the best way to trap a Sniper, is to use... COFFEE! Snipers live off of it. A simple snare trap will work. This Sniper has been up for three days now, so his guard will be down.

Sniper is shown approaching the coffee, he is exhausted. He reaches out and grabs the coffee only to get hoisted off his feet into the air.

Sniper: CRIKEY! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL'S GOING ON!?

Scout: Now, the Sniper is going to be stressed from getting caught, so you have to calm them down.

HEY SNIPES! GIVE ME A MINUTE AND I'LL GET YOU DOWN! THOUGHT THIS WAS THE BLU SNIPER'S HIDEOUT!

Remember, lie like your life depends on it, because it does.

Sniper: WHY THE BLOODY HELL WOULD YOU THINK THAT YOU BLOODY DRONGO!? NOW GET ME DOWN!

Scout: OKAY! HEY SNIPES! WANNA HELP ME FILM MY YOUTUBE SERIES?

Sniper: NO!

Scout: OKAY! GUESS I'LL LEAVE YOU UP THERE! ALLLLL NIGHT LONG!

Sniper: YOU FUCKING WANKER! FINE! I'LL DO IT! JUST GET ME DOWN!

scene goes blank for a few minutes and then Scout is back, now with Sniper next to him

Scout: And voila! We have a Sniper! The first member of your Merc team! Snipers are good Hunters and will help us find the rest of the Mercs!

Sniper: I bloody hate you.

Scout: Love you too Snipes. Next episode, we are getting the Heavy! Trust me. You're gonna want the Heavy.

[mongpht]

Rollo Flamme - Student Council President Uniform SSR [translate]

PART 1

Noble Bell College - Bell Tower Interior

Rollo: Hmm… it's a bit cool. And sunrise time is getting later and later every day. Hmmm… It's a good time of year. I can spend less time in the classroom listening to silly stories from mindless students. Time to do what I have to do today before everyone wakes up… Besides, I wouldn't want those annoying creeps to find me.

Noble Bell College - Bell Tower Upstairs

Gargoyles: jumping.

Rollo: Yeah, shut up, you two! You bloody gargoyles! It's not nice to jump around like that. Why don't you two behave yourselves?

Gargoyles: * calms down *

Rollo: Yeah, I'll do you on my next day off. I can't bear to abandon what I've started. If you understand, leave already. I have important work to do… Finally. They're really annoying, aren't they? The mere fact that they live through magic is terrifying, and the noise… If I hadn't been watching the bell tower, I wouldn't have noticed those blocks of stone… Isn't that right, Salvation Bell. Hmm… You're very handsome today. How nice it would be if everyone were like you. It rings when it should ring and is silent when it should be silent. Nothing is ever so right and certain.

Rollo: …Оh. The sun will be up soon. Gotta get everything cleaned up before the ringers come. Let me hear your beautiful sound tonight. Oh, Salvation Bell!

PART 2

Noble Bell College - Courtyard

Rollo: You won't hear any nasty mages here. Let's take a break….

???: Headman, it's you!

Rollo: Huh?

Vice President: We've been looking for you, Rollo-kaicho*. I can't believe you had lunch here.

Rollo: You--

Vice President: Rollo-caicho, you eat bread for lunch. I didn't know that because I didn't see him in the dining hall.

Rollo: Yes, that's right. Two croissants and 16 grapes. And a cup of coffee with milk. Exactly that much, no more and no less. It's a fixed lunch every day, 365 days a year.

Vice President: What, every day? The same thing every day?

Rollo: If you choose to, you won't be driven by unnecessary desires. It's refreshing and very satisfying. I recommend it to you as well.

Vice President: I can't do that. I'd get bored too quickly.

Rollo: … I'm sorry you don't understand. What's more, you want something from me.

Vice President: Oh, yes. The teacher was just looking for Rollo-kaicho. He wants to know as soon as possible if the book report you recently submitted can be put in the newspaper.

Rollo: A newspaper?… If I take the morning paper, I take the morning edition of the Brilliant Country News.

Vice President: Yeah. It's amazing to be in such a big newspaper! That's what Rollo-caicho is all about. They told me again in class today that kaicho was the only one who passed his Potions test with a perfect grade.

Rollo: Hmm. Not a big deal.

Vice President: You're the very modesty! The other day you even made a hard-to-grow aquatic magic plant bloom. The teacher was very impressed. I have great respect for you. There is no other magician in this academy who knows as much as Rollo-kaicho knows!

Rollo: I see. mumbles Ironic, isn't it?

Vice President: Is something wrong?

Rollo: Don't worry about it. In fact, thank you for talking to me. And for your concern.

Vice President: Don't mention it! But while you're here, may I join you for lunch?

Rollo: … Absolutely not. We're almost done eating. Let's go straight to the teacher. Excuse me, I'll leave you to it. We'll have lunch next time.

Vice President: I see. Then I'll join you another time!

Noble Bell College - Lecture Hall

Rollo: … It's carefree. So carefree… I don't know what I'm thinking. Oh, that's not even the point. Let's go to the staff room.

PART 3

City of Flowers

Rollo: Good afternoon… Yes, that's right. I need my usual set of forms and envelopes. Yes, one plain white one… Hmmm, I agree with you.Even if some would call it anachronistic*, letters are a good thing. It's not as convenient as emails or phone calls, but the time spent means less careless remarks. What, are there cheaper ones from other manufacturers similar to this kit…? No, let's go with the usual. Changing your writing style in the middle of writing won't help. Everything has to be consistent… Yes, indeed. Thanks for everything. See you later… Good salesman. As a citizen of a town that loves a righteous judge. As a college student, I have to learn from you… This town is easy to live in. The people are nice and the scenery is wonderful. But these beautiful flowers are also held in place by magical power … Flowers …. Magic … Hmm…mmm…mmm…Hahaha…..

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: Hmm. Is that a goat? What's wrong with you? Are you hungry? Unfortunately, I don't have anything you can eat right now. If you want to be fed, go to the others…..

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: What? You're after my envelopes? How disgusting… Don't touch it. Don't eat my stuff. Besides, eating paper can make you sick to your stomach. I'm not saying it's bad. Give up the idea… Hey, stop it!

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: You little goat. If you don't want to let go, here's an idea…! Ha. No, there are people here… If this creature wasn't valued in the city, I'd give him a good shove like that. You're just lucky.

Goat: Bleh.

Rollo: Don't chew on my clothes! The City of Flowers is beautiful, but except that such unhygienic behaviour is unacceptable...

Noble Bell College - Student Board Room

Rollo: "As you can see, I'm doing well, just like before. Take care of yourself." I wonder if I'm being too polite. Well, that's good. That's enough to let my parents know I'm living here without any problems. These people are fans of worry… Since then… very… … …

Rollo: … …Right. I'll see if I can add a few more additions to the letter. I won't be able to sleep well tonight anyway. I'll work on it to the best of my ability. There's plenty of time.

kaicho: forefather/elder anachronism: an erroneous, intentional, or conditional attribution of events, phenomena, objects, or persons to another time, epoch relative to the actual chronology.

[spiltscribbles]

THE ONE WITH THE SOULMATE | WOLFSTAR FIC

Author's Notes: A reblog is like a butterfly kiss, and letting me know what you think is like a hundred hugs all at once.

.-

“You are seriously insatiable tonight,” Remus rebukes, swatting Sirius’s hand away from where he was eagerly grabbing at his arse for another round of fun, positively delicious, bloody remarkable, mind-blowing fun. God Sirius thanks every deity above that he fell in love with such a secretive, little wildcat.

“Oi, wasn’t the whole purpose of this getting married shtick so we could do that whenever we please?” Sirius harrumphs, flopping back on their bed, starfished out as he watches his ridiculously beautiful husband dropping his towel to the floor and digging through their shared drawer for a new pair of pants. He really tries his damndest to not focus on how the dying evening light filters through their room’s open window, bathing Remus in this resplendent, almost heavenly glow, turning the tips of his eyelashes as golden as his hair and caressing the dips and valleys of his lithe muscles, accentuating the smattering of freckles on his thighs and the dimples he’s got on the small of his back. God Sirius can’t take his eyes off of him for even a moment. “Because if not I reckon I can sue for false advertising.”

Remus only sniffs at him, affecting a lofty air as he pulls on the green, turtle net sweater that Sirius especially likes on him for how it brings out the amber flecks in Remus’s emerald eyes and how it hugs his physique in the exact right breath to show off how bloody good looking he is. “We did that right when you came home from the firm, and then again in the shower less than five minutes ago. Don’t tell me it was that forgettable?” He asks with a pointed hiking of the brow.

“Never my lovely little croissant,” Sirius contends hurriedly, popping up from his lounging position to snatch for Remus’s boney wrists, and dragging the shorter man down to sit in his still very naked lap. “You are the best shag and handsomest fellow and—“ Remus claps his hand over Sirius’s mouth, probably trying to come off stern, but Sirius could totally catch the way the corner of his lips begin to flinch upwards— he’s endeared and Sirius knows it.

“Enough of that bollocks, else I’ll get a cavity.”

“But my beautiful crumpet, I want to sing your praises,” Sirius pouts mockingly, kisses the tip of his nose, while one of his well built arms slings around Remus’s slender waste, with his free hand slowly crawling up his inner thigh, thwarted nearly immediately by Remus standing up in a huff. 

“Like a bloody mutt.” He scolds.

“Only for you my delightfully delectable cabbage,” Sirius leers, finally standing up and taking the proffered slacks so to get ready for this little soiree Lily’s law firm is holding for their fiftieth anniversary.

“When do you reckon these awful nicknames will drop off?”

“You’re the one who said you like it when I speak French at you,” Sirius goads, smacking Remus’s pert arse as he struts into their master-bath.

“Oi, when it’s spoken in the ruddy language, and not some awful accent you’ve conjured up.” Remus counters moodily before he grabs for one of the colognes on their vanity, and Sirius only smiles privately to himself, so beyond besotted with him that it’s getting detrimental for his health, exhibit A being how he very nearly squirts his aftershave right into his eyes.

But God Remus is so worth it.

.-

The ballroom of the swanky, Mayfair hotel is dressed up in all the opulence that should be expected for a soiree made up of the throng of stuffy, stuck up solicitors that are present. Sirius is not impressed in the slightest, even if he can work the room for one of these parties as effortlessly as breathing thanks to his upbringing as the son of a Lorde and Countess; though he still hates the ambiance of it all, so much so that it makes his skin crawl to this day, but he promised to be here and at least Remus is right besides him, with Sirius’s hand in his back pocket and hazel eyes flickering to him every few minutes or so, as if attuned to Sirius and all his mercurial moods.

God he loves him.

“Alice and I have been shagging non stop,” Frank says, which works well enough to bring Sirius’s attention away from wanting to drag Remus behind the champaign fountain so to have his wicked way with him, and back to the conversation they’re all having; even if that means that instead of looking passive, Sirius is sneering over at Frank.

“Dacorum man.”

Frank apologizes, beyond glum. “We just don’t know what to do. The doctors say that we shouldn’t have this much difficulty with it, but we just checked before coming and still, nothing.”

“I’m sorry mate, that’s awful.” Remus tells him, and Dorcas nods along, but Sirius just rolls his eyes.

“We’re not even thirty yet for fuck’s sake,” he tells him. “Maybe ’s a sign for you both to stop trying to ruin your lives with a baby.”

“Shut it Sirius,” Dorcas hisses, kicking at his ankle hard enough to make him wince.

“Ouch, hey! I’m just saying, a kid’s a lot of responsibility, and commitment.”

“I’ve been with Alice since we were seventeen Black,” Frank tells him hotly . “I think I’m already properly committed.”

“Then what’s the point of the kid!”

Frank raises his brows, floundering with no words as if he just could not comprehend Sirius and all his Sirius-ness, which is fair, the only two people who’s been able to do as much turned out being his brother, (James), and his lover, (Remus)… Speaking of which…

“I’m sorry he’s acting like such an arse Frank, he doesn’t mean it.” the sandy blonde says cooly, giving Sirius one of his looks that he usually keeps designated for his more rowdy students. “Do you.”

Sirius glares at him before looking back at Frank and nodding stiffly. “Sorry mate, you and Flores would be marvelous parents, I’m just being prickish.”

“Nothing knew then,” Frank says, but it’s coupled with an amiable grin so Sirius knows he’s off the hook.

“Right, well why don’t I make it up to you by grabbing you a drink? Yeah?”

“See if they’ve got an iced white?”

“Me too Black,” Dorcas scoffs, doesn’t even bother to look at him to make the command.

“Righto,” Sirius claps Frank’s shoulder with a friendly squeeze, winking at Dorcas and glancing over at Remus before he goes. “Vodka tonic?”

“With lemon please.”

Sirius nods, still pecks him on the lips even if they’re sorta in a fight, as if Sirius could ever stay away for too long.

.-

By the grace of God, the open bar is mostly vacant, except for a familiar head of messy hair he’s considered family for over half his life.

“All right Prongs?”

James pivots around, drinks already in hand and grinning at the sight of him. “Wow, didn’t even recognize you for a tick there Pads, you don’t even have your hand plastered to Moony’s bum!.”

Sirius smirks, tossing him a covert two finger salute as he saddles up besides him and orders the round of drinks. “What can I say Prongsy, the cheeky bugger made me vow to have it there constantly, can’t just jilt my bloke like that, can I?”

James grimaces with a roll of the eyes, and Sirius’s far accustomed to that look of exasperation from him by now. “You’re a mutt.”

“Would you believe you aren’t the first person to say that to me within the last hour?”

“God save our poor Moony.”

“Oh God doesn’t have to worry, I’m taking care of him just fine.”

“Are you being gross about my best friend,” Lily asks as she struts up towards them, looking like an absolute diamond, even if her nose is wrinkled indelicately.

“Aren’t I always in your opinion?” Sirius asks cheekily, trying to balance the four drinks in his grasp before she just rolls her eyes and grabs the flutes of wine for Frank and Dorcas.

“Your impossible prat-ness aside, I actually think you being all grossly territorial over Remus tonight is actually a good thing.”

“THat’s a first,” James says, but Sirius can only glare, suspicious.

“Why’s that? Oi! Don’t tell me that absolute plonker Dearborn is here!”

“Oh God no,” Lily startles, shaking her head as if the thought was too insane to even fathom. “’S just the firm’s just hired this new bloke and I’m really quite positive that he’s Rem’s soulmate.”

“Lily! Don’t say that!” James balks, glancing over at Sirius worriedly, but he in turn only laughs at the magnitude of the statement.

“Jesus, Evans, didn’t think you believed in that ridiculous shite?”

“’S not ridiculous Sirius! And yeah, ‘course I do, like James and I are definitely soulmates.” She twists slightly so to kiss the curve of James’s jaw, making him go a bit blotchy. Poor git’s wrapped around her littlest finger.

“And what? You reckon Remus and I are just here to kill some time?”

“No, don’t be a pillock,” Lily reproves. “’s just he’s his soulmate is all.”

Okay, Sirius’s amusement has officially given way to irritation, and he twists his head so to scowl down at her as they make their way to the others. “Alright Evans, explain yourself then, yeah? Tell me how he’s Moony’s supposed soulmate.

“Well he’s French.”

“I speak French.”

“He’s got amazing, blonde hair.”

“I’ve got amazing, black hair.”

“He majored in literature just like Remus.” Lily says airily, knowing that Sirius can’t match that being an architect himself.

“Well— I read all that snotty shite Remus asks me too.” He huffs, and Lily answers with a shrug to her delicate shoulders.

“Fine then, I’m wrong. You’ve got nothing to worry bout.”

She struts off to their little lump of friends as if to cut the conversation off completely, and Sirius is perfectly find with that. She’s acting off her bloody rocker. But, if Sirius stands closer to Remus than usual for the rest of the night, or if he ends up kissing his temple whenever he feels like someone is watching them, or if he glares at one of the blokes working catering after deigning to offer Remus an empanada— Well that’s Sirius’s business and his alone. He’s not intimidated by this soulmate shite, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he’s trying to stave off the bastard or something. He does all of that simply because Remus is his husband now, and he loves getting to show that off to all onlookers, even the ones who may or may not be Remus’s soulmate.

.-

“We’ve got dinner with Reggie and his latest girlfriend tonight,” Remus tells Sirius the following Tuesday, tossing the scarf his mother had gifted him last Christmas— with a matching one for Sirius— over his shoulder as they stroll around to the front of the Three Broomsticks for their morning coffees, hands linked and the early winter snow catching in both sets of their lashes. 

And God does Sirius love the sound of that, of their schedules overlapping, becoming one almost. Loves the idea that where ever one goes the other follows. Sirius knows that they’ve both have their demons, from Sirius’s neglect and emotional abuse as a child— occasionally sprinkled with a good smack or two if his mother was particularly fuming. To Remus’s complex of never feeling like he can ever be enough, and the way Lyall had acted for years after Remus had come out to his parents as gay, coupled with his multiple hospital visits as a lad until they finally figured out his lupus diagnosis. But they’re better, so much fucking better now. Plenty of the credit going to the remarkable group of friends whom they’ve picked up along the way, but another huge chunk was finding one another, and Sirius knows it in his bones. Knows that there couldn’t be anyone else for him, and sure he knows Remus sometimes deserves more, deserves better— But he’s chosen him, he’s chosen Sirius. He loves Sirius. And it’s remarkable and unbelievable and amazing, and Sirius holds onto the sensation of it with hungry piety.

“Love? Did you hear that?”

Sirius jolts back to the moment, and smiles softly down at him, kissing the corner of Remus’s mouth in penance. “Yes, of course gorgeous. I didn’t forget, I’ll be home early and maybe we can have a lie down before leaving if you’ve finished grading those papers?”

Remus’s laugh right then is like the most splendid instrument Sirius has ever heard, light and magical and warm as a bonfire. “Try to be good and maybe.” He tells him with a cold fingered tapping of his nose before he flounces off to the main counter to order for them.

Sirius doesn’t know how long he stares after him instead of grabbing the gang’s typical seats up front, but is startled when he hear’s a choked out noise coming from behind him and sees Lily, panic faced and eyes wandering frantically.

“Oi, what’s squirming up your arse Evans.” He asks her suspiciously, thick brows furrowed.

“I didn’t know you guys would be here,” she explains so quickly that her words begin to crash into one another. “Oh bloody hell, the one time I have a late start!”

She stomps her foot and Sirius shoots her a fully fledged glower. “What is making you so damn barmy for Christ’s sake.”

Lily parts her lips, but no noise comes out, because right then someone follows her indoors, a very familiar someone if only based off of descriptions. A very tall, very blonde, very smiley looking someone.

Sirius hates him right on sight.

“I’m sorry I took so long at that shop Lily, my mother loves these, how do you say, snow globes?” The stranger says, shaking one for emphasis with Big Ben set in the center.

“Ridiculous tourist trinkets is more like it,” Sirius practically snarls, which earns him a confused look by the blonde and a tired one by Lily.

“Right then, well Sirius this’s Thomas Martin, Thomas this is Sirius Black.”

“Lupin-Black now, ta Lils.”

“Oh,�� Thomas says, blue eyes blinking wearily. “Nice to meet you, ah, Sirius.” He extends his hand, and when Sirius shakes it he makes sure to feel the bloke’s bones crushing together, just so he understands who exactly he’s speaking with.

The French arse eventually pulls away, pinning Sirius with a one eyed squint as he curls and stretches his fingers.

“Oh God,” Lily groans, leading them to their spot and depositing herself onto the sofa with absolute exasperation, and Sirius only continues to glare at Thomas as he sits besides her, growing stiffer once Remus returns.

“Oh, hiya Lils,” he smiles, handing Sirius his drink before flickering his gaze to the fucking Frenchman.

“‘lo love, this’s the newest hire at the firm, Thomas. Thomas, this’s my best mate, Remus.” She introduces quickly, the fucking trader.

“Remus?” Thomas asks, dimpling down at Sirius’s fucking husband with bright eyes. And Sirius has to curl his fists so not to punch him right in the sodding face, only growing angrier when Remus chuckles and ducks his head, like he was nervous by him! Like he thought he was in fact very good looking and very charming and his damn soulmate.

“Yeah, blame that on my mum, she was big into the classics.”

Thomas’s grin widens even more and Sirius feels the pulse on his neck beginning to throb. “No, it’s very charming. My Grandfather was very, erm, focussed on those studies as well? Begged my parents to name me Enkidu. They thankfully refused.”

Remus laughs fully now, and Sirius wants to a punch a wall. It took him literal months to make Remus laugh like that— genuine and glimmering and gorgeous. “Lucky bloke. Though I do have to admit that Gilgamesh is a favorite of mine, I think I’ve read the epic twenty times over.”

“Oh mine too,” the fucking Frenchman says, stepping closer to Remus and now in front of Sirius fully, gambling bravely that Sirius wouldn’t try to cap him right here. “If you ask me however, I do believe that he and Enkidu are more than just, friends.” His eyes flicker down to Remus’s lips for a split second and when he looks back up his face is positively leering.

Sirius sees red.

“God, so nice to finally talk to someone who gets it, the professors I work under are usually so painfully heteronormative that it’s crippling.” Remus tells him, smiling kindly.

“Oh, I’m the furthest away from that, I assure you.”

He winks! He fucking winks! Sirius swears to God! He sees the bastard winking at his husband! His fucking husband! What the bloody hell does he think that platinum band on Remus’s finger matching Sirius’s own is suppose to represent! Holy shit!

“I’d love to read anything you have on the subject, most things translated to French are a bit clunky.”

He’s trying to ask him out! Right here! Right in front of Sirius! Sirius is going to strangle his snail swallowing neck! Thankfully, Lily must sense his inner turmoil because she interjects their conversation right then, asking Thomas to grab her a jasmine tea.

“Oh yes of course,” he nods congenially, rounding back on Remus before he leaves. “Would you like a pastry? On me.”

Is he trying to ask Remus to eat it off of him? What the hell! It took nearly a year of them fucking for Sirius to get Remus to bring food in the bedroom, to get to watch Remus lick the chocolate syrup off his cock. And what? Does he think he’s even got a chance so quickly!

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Remus grins and a part of Sirius dies on the inside. “But I’ll come tag along, yeah? I love talking about this stuff and Sirius absolutely hates this ancient rubbish.”

“I do not! I think these dead blokes are very interesting,” he harrumphs, heated, with pouting lips and crossed arms. But Remus only tosses back his head with uninhibited laughter in response, which makes the fucking Frenchman beam that bit brighter.

“After you,” he says with a swish of the hand.

Sirius is going to be tried for murder, and he’s not even sorry about it.

“’s okay love,” Lily reassures him, patting his head dotingly. “We’ll find you someone new.”

“I hate you Evans!”

“Don’t blame the messenger!”

Sirius is about to tell her just how much he does exactly that, but then he catches on the fucking Frenchman putting his hand over Remus’s to prevent him from sliding over his card and all the fight leaves him in an instant.

.-

Sirius ended up not even going to the on sight location for the latest project he’s heading at the firm. He instead spent the bulk of the morning and part of the afternoon grinding his teeth as Remus spoke and barbed and giggled with the fucking Frenchman, like he was enjoying himself. And it was torture, watching the way they naturally clicked and got on— Literal fucking torture.

Sirius is still fuming as they sit in front of his younger brother and his newest bird, a pretty girl named Amal, who’s just graduated from a posh, fashion institute in the north of France. And Christ it’s like he’s being bombarded with the idea of that country all day.

“God that must’ve been such a wonderful experience,” Remus says, smiling as she leans forwards with a grin, speaking louder over the chatter of the busy sushi joint they had all agreed upon.

“Oh yes, the cuisine was simply unmatched, even if I did end up missing London, being home and all. Though I’m afraid my French is seriously dwindling compared to my English and Arabic now.”

“You should ask Reggie to practice with you, I know I love it when Sirius speaks the language.” He winks right then, making Amal crow with laughter and Regulus roll his eyes fondly. But Sirius stays peeved off with his hinged jaw, absolutely seething.

“Bet my hopeless brother recites poetry to you and everything, rose in his mouth and all.”

Remus laughs and Sirius suddenly has the horrid image of the fucking Frenchman doing as much outside the window to their bedroom, and is furious all over again.

“Well Reggie, Remus here does fancy all things French, foods and wines and blokes and just the whole lot.”

“Well good, we have something in common,” Amal snickers, lacing her hand through Regulus’s own over the tabletop. Sirius and Remus haven’t held hands since the waitress brought out their drinks, and remembering as much makes Sirius take a swig of his ail, hating everything.

“Yes well, you can say it’s Remus’s soulmate, France I mean.” He says, words beginning to slur. “He’s meant for French food and wines and blokes, innit true love? You’d prefer a French bloke?”

Amal frowns and Regulus pins him with a one eyed squint, befuddled. But Sirius only gathers his wits about him when Remus clammers noisily out his chair and tugs on his arm to follow suit.

“Reg order us the specials yeah? And a round of spring rolls,” he instructs, words clipped, and a small dent peeking out between his brows, like it does when he’s especially annoyed. “C’mon Sirius we need to talk.”

“But that’d be awfully rude,” Sirius retorts, already hates the flat, fuming tone Remus is speaking with, and feels good and properly nervous for the impending argument.

“They have one another, ’s fine. Now let’s go.”

Sirius concedes and pretends it doesn’t feel like he’s being lead to the gallows.

.-

“All right prick,” Remus huffs, rounding on Sirius right after he locks the door to the single user loo. “What has gotten you in such a bloody awful mood.”

Sirius sniffs, arms crossed against his chest and his head tilted imperiously. “I’m peachy.”

“You’ve been acting like an arse ever since we had coffee with Lily,” Remus counters, reproving.

“Actually love, if you didn’t notice, Lily left about halfway through you and the blonde’s little clucking session.”

Remus furrows his brows now, pillowy lips pinched and looking lost as hell. “You’re angry because Lily left for work?”

“Oh for bloody hell Remus!” Sirius erupts, tossing his arms in the air. “I’m angry because you met your ruddy soulmate and now you’re going to ride off into the sunset with’m and read French poetry together while eating cheese and bread and talking about highbrow shit like Aeneid!”

Remus startles backwards, long lashes flapping and mouth gaped open. “Oh Christ, you’ve gone absolutely barmy. You’re mad.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I feel like I should call someone about my husband going bloody mental.”

“I repeat. Not. Helping.”

“What in hell has convinced you that this random bloke is my soulmate?” Remus asks, back to being patient as ever.

“Lily!” Sirius shouts. “She told me that you and the fucking Frenchman are soulmates! And she’s right okay! She’s bloody spot on.”

Remus rolls back his entire head now, groaning out, “You are such an idiot.”

“Real nice Moons,” Sirius frowns, doesn’t even know how to feel now, the anger seeping out of him the longer he’s standing besides Remus, leaving an awful, clawing abandonment in its wake.

“Did you ever once think to ask me what I think of the damn concept of soulmates? Hmm?” He asks, single brow hiked with pure condescension.

And oh.

Sirius is stuck for a minute there, doesn’t see an out to the question. “Well…. Erm—“

“Well if you had asked, like a normal sodding bloke! I wold’ve told you that I married you because I know your my soulmate you arse! And it isn’t because of some ridiculous notion of stardust or providence or whatever else. It’s because we grew together, and we fight for one another, and even when you’re being a complete prick or we’re arguing like mad you’re the only one I want. Only person I can ever see myself with, the only person I want to try this hard for. The only fucking person I ever want to call my husband! My partner! lover!”

“Oh.” Sirius breathes out, all his fears being strangled by the conviction embedded into Remus’s words. 

And it’s like all of Sirius’s insides melt, like all the adoration and love and reverence he holds for Remus is pooling in his stomach and threatening to pour out his every orifice. And God he can’t even inhale, only scrambles to lock his hands around Remus’s cheeks and press his head against Remus’s own.

“Yeah? You really think that.”

“Hell, I thought the wedding and all would’ve made that clear.”

Sirius chuckles, only lightly, his thumb dragging beneath Remus’s eye tenderly. “God I love you, so endlessly. Please forgive me for being an idiot?”

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll keep you around,” Remus teases, bouncing on the balls of his feet to kiss Sirius’s nose and lock his arms around his neck, and the sensation of it— them knotted into one another— could never be replicated in a thousand years, not like this, not like them. 

[carlos-in-glasses]

Carlos-in-Glasses Goes to Paris

For prosperity I’ve written up my experience of the First Responders Reunion Convention – which is my first convention experience. And what an overwhelmingly good and stressful time it was. Under the cut is my attempt to capture my memories and the essence of it, rather than a transcription of panels and meeting rooms, as others have already done the good work (or will be). I hope you find this interesting and useful if you do read, and if you have any specific questions (including about travelling alone/logistics/issues I had) I’ll do my best to provide a coherent answer.

I am very tired and this is slightly manic but here we go:

Friday: If you are among those who waited in line for three hours to register for the convention, even if I did not see or interact with you….I feel we are spiritually bonded forever by the experience. Blimey, crikey, and bloody hell. It was not clear at all how long the wait would be, but I was not expecting that! However, there was an undeniable thrill in the air. I was in pain all over, yet happy. By the late evening, dinner was half a tube of Pringles and a glass of red wine.

Saturday: Breakfast was four croissants. I actually recommend this because they really did carry me through until lunch. Not long after arriving, we were milling about in the lobby waiting for the opening ceremony to begin - when Ronen walked past up on the mezzanine/ balcony thing, waving to us, all fabulous and just….there in the flesh?!!!...and revealing his hair. We’d speculated that he’d dyed it pink or the bisexual pride flag colours, or “wouldn’t it be funny if it’s just brown?!” And it was brown! And it WAS Funny.

The opening ceremony was a trip lol. Holy shit. They played a music video compilation of the actors from each show (I never want to hear How to Save a Life by The Fray ever again. Jk jk don’t come for meee). There was an undulation of incredibly loud screaming whenever particular actors popped up on screen, so it was like being on a rollercoaster that wasn’t moving. Adrenaline was high by the time all the actors walked out on stage and say hello. It’s hard to explain exactly how bonkers it is to be in the same physical space as Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha and see their non-TV dimensions… TANGENT TIME:

….Speaking of dimensions! I tried to pay close attention to the height difference between Ronen and Rafa, but it’s also an optical illusion in real life? FYI, I’m 5 ft 7 – Ronen didn’t seem massively taller than me, Rafa did seem massively taller than me; next to each other it was like there was nothing in it. But in my photos they’re both much taller than me and Ronen looks slightly the biggest I think 🤔 So I have no clue what’s going on. In fact, I’m more confused than ever.

After the opening ceremony (which I fled from because fuuuck) I was waiting around due to rocking up early for my meeting room by accident. The schedule was a confusing design and I was far from the only person who was doing a sort of 'hit-and-hope' when it came to figuring out where to be and when, especially as things almost immediately overran, so other activities got moved around/ postponed. ANYWAY – Ronen walked right past with a member of staff who was instructing him. I overheard him tell her “It’s okay…I’m a pro at this.” He really did wander around like he owned the place. At one point he strolled through the lobby with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

My first activity was the meeting room with Ronen and Rafa (ie. a group of a set number of people in a room with actors for half an hour). By chance it turned out that I was sitting almost right next to them, with a gap left for the door between us. So, super close. And obviously they were both mesmerising. This was the meeting room where Rafa said “To catch the murderer, Carlos has to behave like one”, and explained that Carlos would have to murder parts of himself. His emphasis was on how Carlos’ innocence has been taken from him because his father’s life was stolen. For what it’s worth, I interpreted this as Rafa viewing the whole thing very much from an dramatic actor’s standpoint, and how he needs to get into the mindset of Carlos’ particular grief metaphorically, rather than meaning anything literal. He speaks quite intensely and thoughtfully and his choice of words is often bold. For anyone concerned about it, just remember he was asked a question and responded off the cuff the best he could in the moment, with limited time. He doesn’t write the show and I guess he’s making assumptions based on how season 4 left off, like the rest of us, unless he’s had very specific conversations with Tim (which, maybe! But he wouldn’t be able to give anything away. We don’t know anything). Then, when Ronen brought up TK dying (because Ronen always dies in the films/TV he does – using an axe to the chest as an example) it was pointed out that Tarlos is endgame, so he can’t die. Cue Rafa being like “Carlos could die with him! They die together!” I was like goodness me lads it’s early in the morning for this. I needed a brandy afterwards.

Next up was my Tarlos Duo Photoshoot. As noted above, everything had fallen behind schedule, and things were starting to get switched around. Honestly, it was confusing, daunting and stressful (please note: Am VERY easily confused, daunted, and stressed). But thanks to the power of following others and asking questions, I ended up where I needed to be. When it was my turn, Rafa immediately and warmly put his arm around me to pose but Ronen was talking to a staff member, so Rafa and I were just… touching each other for a good few seconds before Ro joined us! I took the opportunity to thank Rafa for doing this for us, but I can’t remember how he responded. Then the photo was taken. I told them they’re both amazing, they said “aw thanks” at the same time, and again I fled the scene. As there are so many people, the shoot you have is super speedy. I advise really trying to keep your cool even though it’s a highly flustering situation. You don’t want it to become a total blur or something you regret, because it really is lovely to be next to them and quickly say a few words and get a keepsake afterwards.

My next activity was autographs and selfies with Natacha and Sierra. A super lovely thing. I gave them cards I'd written (as I also did for Rafa and Ronen the next day). Sierra was an absolute highlight for me. Just the warmest, kindest person. A total joy. She opened her card in front of me and I was like nooooo don't. It truly felt like she’d come to the convention for the opportunity to meet us, rather than the other way around. She told me she liked my outfit and said I look beautiful in pink. Similar to what I said to Rafa, I thanked her and told her I can’t imagine what it’s like for them to do this, expecting her to quickly say “oh you’re welcome” or something. But she started having a mini-philosophical conversation with me about the nature of fame and fandom! Then she said “it is overwhelming in the best way” because she gets to see the human heart behind all the messages etc (I’m paraphrasing). I said “it’s all about love” and she said “yes! It’s all about love, absolutely.” She was a true delight. And Natacha is a blast. She also complimented my pink outfit and I was like ???? Thanks????!!! Gahhh. The selfies came out way more flattering than the photoshoot. The lighting. Oof.

The last Saturday thing for me was the panel with Ronen and Rafa. It was quite brief but there were some real gems. Rafa saying he only has eyes for Tarlos. Ronen saying “Safe in their apartment holding on to each other. I think Carlos is TK’s honeymoon.” I melted. I let our an audible aww.

Sunday: The first thing was a Lone Star quiz in the panel room with Natacha and Sierra. They were so fun and such good sports. Then it was the Lone Star panel, where Natacha, Sierra, Ronen and Rafa were all on stage together answering fan questions. It was really nice to see them all interact, banter and laugh together. Sierra made a point of saying they’re all close in real life and hang out in their free time. There was a great vibe between them and such a good atmosphere in the room. I loved it when Rafa told Ronen that he was out of rhythm when it came to learning the pilot episode line dance; Ronen argued that he smashed it and there's video evidence. Rafa's response was "Sweetie, no."

I then had the autograph and selfie sessions with Rafa and Ronen, but because the Lone Star panel overran, suddenly Ronen had his photoshoot session instead, so I had a clash between going to that or staying downstairs for Rafa. I was trying to figure out what to do until the queen that is @actuallysara got some clarity from a staff member and we went up to Ronen, but by that point the upper level by the studio was crowded and chaotic. Be advised to prepare for disarray if you’ve never been to a convention before. It might be that you experience no scheduling issues or confusion, but just be prepared for the advent anyway. As it happened, I was through quickly for my photo with Ronen – again thanks to Sara locating the door! Ronen, hungover, was wearing his sunglasses, so I wore mine. He did a dumb pose without saying anything; I grinned at the camera and then thanked him and ran off again to get back downstairs where Rafa was still signing autographs. I got to tell him he plays my favourite character of all time and we took a selfie I really love ahhhh. Then Rafa had to leave for his photoshoot – which was my next thing – so I ran back upstairs and was one of the first in line! So I was like “heeey nice to see you again so soon…!” He remembered my name – I guess because he’d only just written it down 😅 I thanked him for the 10th time – just couldn’t stop thanking everyone like I’d caught a disease where the symptom is permanent gratitude. THEN I ran downstairs to do the autograph and selfie with Ronen, who was running late – so that got postponed to the afternoon after we’d already waited a long while. When it did happen it was great - I can't remember what I said to him but I assume it was polite and made sense – although a chaotic queuing system again ensued. A whole long line of us were crushed together in the heat. I had an Aperpol spritz after and when I tell you I’d never needed a drink like that more…

That was it for my paid activities! Unknown to me at the time, my final glimpse of Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha was when I was sitting on the floor eating Ritz Crackers while they were wandering past on their way to/from whatever they were doing next. It felt so normal to see them around at that point. We gathered for the closing ceremony, thinking we’d see all the actors on stage once more for a goodbye, but the ceremony had to happen without any of the actors because of running late. So, I cherish my ‘seeing them in the hallway’ memories.

Overall feelings and would I do it again? If you’ve never been to a convention before but want to, do go into it with open eyes: There’s potentially a lot of waiting around and standing in line for a long time in a hot space (sometimes the line is more like a shapeless crowd and you don’t know where it begins and ends). Some of the activities are quite rushed. They fall behind schedule easily and you have to be agile about where to go next and what to do. The Dream It team worked super hard and could do with employing more staff in stewarding roles, ideally wearing something that identifies them as such (the staff blended in with the visitors of the convention). But I don’t know the economics of their staffing situation so maybe they can’t grow the team. Anyway, having more signs up also would have been useful. When you do get your moment with Ronen, Rafa, Sierra, Natacha though – or whoever you have come to see – it really is beautiful and meaningful.

Right now, I’m flipflopping – but mainly I think once is enough for me, unless they come to a convention the UK. There’s a couple of aspects I’d like to ‘do over,’ but perhaps not enough to try to recreate the magic a second time, given the expense of it?? That might change over the coming months – we’ll see! I went to this convention with the goal of meeting Ronen and Rafa (with Natacha and a Sierra being a glorious bonus as I booked it long before they were announced as guests) to tell them in person thank you and I love you – and I achieved that. I do think it was worth my money, but it is very expensive and tiring. I was lucky to be in a good position to pay for it this year, which might not be the case going forward. You really need to be able to afford to do it, and genuinely want to do it, knowing you’re paying money for something that is going to have some hard and challenging aspects as well as the amazing and joyful. Personally, I love that I went once. I didn’t love the Super Endurance Test of 2023 that was standing in line for three hours on Friday after travelling hahaaaaaa god. I loved the selfies and autograph sessions. I didn’t love the photoshoot outcomes but I loved that I’ve had Rafa’s large hand on my shoulder because I'm slutty so. I love that I looked into both his and Ronen’s eyes and told them how great they are. I love that I uploaded my selfie with Rafa to my instastory and he viewed it, so there’s just a line of my friends’ names, then actuallyrafa, then a line of my friends’ names 🤣

I also want to note that in real life, compared to footage of them in interviews/insta lives/wherever, I think you get even more of a sense of just how different they are to their characters. It made me respect them all even more than I already did, which I didn’t think was possible. They are SO talented.

BUT most importantly: The reason why this was so brilliant was @actuallysara, without whom I wouldn’t have thought I could travel alone to Paris and do this at all. Sara, meeting you and giving you a big hug was also the dream. You are so helpful and knowledgeable and kind ,and once again your flags were a fantastic idea and I’m so happy I got to sign them. I hope I get to see you again very soon. Thank you from the depths of my soul. @meditating-honey-badger (and your fabulous companion…!) it was a true delight to hang out, and chill out, and have such funny and deep conversations. You are an absolute light and I loved meeting you. I hope so much to see you again too. Like Sara, it could never be too soon. And @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut. What can I say. What can I possibly say. I want to make drinking on rooftop bars while talking about writing our thing. I’ve never done that with anyone else. We really went through this side by side and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I already miss you and I thank you too. You are, in fact, the warmest doughnut in town. All of you, forever ❤️. You made it what it was.

(Digitally applied giant aviator sunglasses and some editing so the Tarlos duo photoshoot doesn't count as a face reveal. Thank you also to the lovely people who made bracelets and handed them out.)

[hikarry]

So, while I was sick I was cooking up some ideas so let me throw this imagine at you. I won't be as nice as the others because jello brain, but follow me!

After Season 3, like, way way way after. 30 years after, perhaps. Let's pretend Crowley and Aziraphale didn't destroy Heaven and Hell or turned (argh) humans and that Gabriel is having his happily ever after with Beez, yes? Crowley and Aziraphale are living in the South Downs, Muriel is taking care of the bookshop and Michael is the new supreme archangel, yes? Fantastic. Let's go.

So, Aziraphale is in the workshop working on some book and Crowley is yelling at his plants outside the window when someone calls. Crowley quickly lifts his head and looks at Aziraphale through the window. The angel just waves his hand and goes to the living room where his old phone still is. It was Muriel, once again asking for help.

"Of course, dear. I'll be there in a jiffy." He answers, as per usual. "Crowley, my dear?"

"Yes, angel?" He yells from the garden.

"Can you take a quick break and take me to the bookshop?"

"Argh. You have a bloody license."

"...Do you...want me to drive her?"

"...Gimme a minute!"

It's just the time for Crowley to clean himself and fix his hair (took longer than he would ever admit. Aziraphale was expecting it), and off they went, back to Soho.

"Will you come in, dear?"

"Nah. With luck, it's the same problem as last time and it will take you both hours. I'll make a reservation at the Ritz, go to that bakery you like and-"

"Oh, yes! Please buy some-"

"Chocolate croissants, I know. Anyway, I might pass by the plant nursery and then I'll come back. It takes me a maximum of half an hour. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, love." He leans over and kisses Crowley on the cheek. "I believe Muriel has a lot of tea inside. Mind how you go."

Crowley nods and gives him a quick kiss before Aziraphale leaves the car.

Once inside, with Crowley gone, the bookshop was darker than he expected.

"Muriel?"

He took a couple more steps when the bookshop's doors closed with a burst of wind and the unforgettable smell of ozone invaded, right before Michael, Muriel, Uriel and Sandalphon appeared in front of him. Muriel looked terrorized. Aziraphale tried to move in their direction but found his hand hit against an invisible wall. A trap, really? He opened his mouth to talk, but after Uriel snapped her fingers he fell unconscious.

Aziraphale woke up in some sort of old building. He was laying on the floor and his head hurt considerably. He tried to move his hands to try and help himself to his feet, but felt a sharp pain on his wrists.

Right.

Demonic handcuffs.

Original.

By that logic, he couldn't touch any of his power or call for his wings.

Great. So stay on the floor he would.

Bellow him there was an angel trap, with his sigil on it. Which made this much more complicated indeed.

Aziraphale managed to get on his knees and finally saw a window on the other wall in front of him. From this perspective, he was surely not on the first floor. He started banging with his chains on the invisible wall in front of him. It wouldn't do anything, obviously, but he would be damned if he just stayed there doing nothing.

Putting demonic chains on him was a low low blow, even for them.

After a while he started getting tired and sat back on his legs, sighing

"Mr. Fell?" A whisper came from the closed door.

"Muriel?"

"Yes. It is me. I'm so so so so sorry I tricked you. I tried to say no but...the supreme archangel asked. Are you...alright?"

"It's alright, dear. I'm...fine, considering."

"The supreme archangel is infuriated. She yelled at everyone and said that she would punish you at nightfall. I'll try to get some help."

"No, don't do that! They will punish you if they find out! I can handle them!"

"After I let them take you like that? I can't. I'm sorry, Mr. Fell. I feel too guilty. I need to help you."

"...How long have I been gone from the bookshop?"

"...3 hours, I believe."

Aziraphale took a deep breath.

"Right. Crowley is probably panicking flying around like a blind eagle. If you can get to a phone, try to reach him. If not, run. Go to Nina and Maggie's or to our house, alright, dear? Don't let them catch you. Don't get in trouble."

It was less than 2 hours when the doors opened. The first to walk in was Michael, followed by her two minions.

"Very well, Aziraphale. Are you prepared to return to Heaven?" Michael said.

Aziraphale chuckled.

"You must have lost your mind, certainly. Crowley and I made sure you all would leave us alone. So-"

"That's because we didn't have other choice." Uriel interrupted. "Now we have the Programmer." Aziraphale raised an eyebrow in confusion. "We can reprogram other angels to their original position and manipulate their memories."

Aziraphale got to his feet and flinched back. Now, that wouldn't do.

"We have already lost Gabriel, Metraton. We need you back. Especially away from that demon pet of yours. You're too powerful together, as shown by the way you almost blasted the whole of Heaven."

"And the machine is running, ready for you-" Sandalphon entering the circle, and held him by the arm. "-my dear." A fist was raised, but before it could collapse into its target, there was a very loud screech outside.

The angels looked amongst themselves and Sandalphon left to check on all the noise with Michael.

They listened to multiple voices outside. They were speaking so loud none was really distinguishable.

"You are going, not even if I have to take you myself!"

Uriel crossed the circle, making the lil mistake of erasing a part of the circle with her shoe. Enough to let Aziraphale go. He stepped out of the circle, but Uriel followed him, grabbing him by the lapels and pushing him against the window, that broke against his elbows and back.

Now the voices were more clear, and one of them was, without mistake, Crowley. He took a quick peek outside and there he was, fighting both the archangels.

Right. He had to get a wiggle one.

"I'm sorry, dear girl." He swung the chains towards Uriel and she fell to the floor, sluggish.

Quickly, he turned around and looked down. He was on the third floor with two archangels and a demon blocking the exit.

"Crowley!" The demon's head snapped up in between the confusion that was him and the archangels.

Aziraphale climbed on the window and sat on it. He still couldn't use his wings so all he could hope for was Crowley's pristine timing. With his eyes closed, he took a final last breath and leapt out of the window. Within seconds he felt arms holding him and the unmistakable sounds of wings flapping.

"Are you insane?! You could have been discorporated! What would have happened if I didn't catch you, eh?! There's no other corporation, angel! You have to stop-" Aziraphale giggled, wrapping his arms around Crowley's neck, trying to get in a better position. "What?"

"Thank you for the timely rescue. Again."

"Why are you laughing? This isn't a laughing matter! I'm gonna kill those-"

"Crowley." The angel put his hands on his face, forcing him to slow down and face him. "Let's just go home, yes, my dear? There's a lot to discuss and I need a cup of tea for that." Crowley took a deep breath and smiled down at the angel. "Muriel found you?"

"Yes, they called. I told them to go to the cottage and stay put. I came as fast as I could but they literally dragged you to the middle of nowhere."

"Oh!" Aziraphale looked over Crowley's shoulder. "What about the Bentley?"

Crowley laughed, looking in front once again and picking up speed.

"She's on her way back home, obviously. She ran as soon as I caught you."

Of course she was. Why was he even surprised, he thought with a chuckle.