#capital e

[danskjavlarna]

Source details and larger version.

Ornate capitals and other fancy vintage letters.

[townesarchive]

Townes Archive . Deadstock LEVIS 1970 Whiskey à Go Go and original Fabrikneu 'Kreuzpullover' Tabea Blumenschein. Townes Archive - Fashion Section townes.de

[kairospy]

I’m sorry but everyone at school wanted Regulus. He could’ve had anyone he wanted.

A Black? Rich? Quidditch star? Hot as shit?? The confidence from being told since birth you’re better than everyone else???

Yea this man could’ve snapped his fingers as have 17 people in his vicinity undressing

[shepards-folly]

shout out to the fellas who can’t help but assume everyone is mad at them if they even sound slightly upset (it’s me i’m the fellas)

[atelierlili]

Mockingjay.

Found this lying around on my computer in a different folder from my usual stuff. I made this back in March and I don't know why I never finished it 💀💀💀 Don't think I ever will so I might as well post it 🤪

[flashhwing]

piggybacking off a post I just saw that I will not be reblogging so as not to expose op to the essek lovers following me. the “what did Adeen do” jokes are fun in some contexts but I think they do somewhat do a disservice to the textual answer which is …. nothing. well, not entirely nothing, but certainly not what he was framed, tortured, and imprisoned for. this is a man whose memory was modified for no reason other than it was convenient for Essek, and who suffered deeply for it. and idk I think when we talk about Essek’s character it’s easy to abstract his crimes away as like this very loose ~oh he had a hand in kickstarting a war that was probably going to happen anyway~~ but like. He Did Some Concrete, Fucked Up Shit

tl;dr: everyone wants to know what Adeen did to deserve Essek’s wrath that they forget the textual and most interesting answer which is. Nothing at all

[stargirlie25]

''AZRIEL FIGURED OUT ELAIN WAS A SEER"

OK OK I HEAR YOU! BUT ELAIN WAS THERE FOR MONTHS AND AZ DIDN'T TAKE HER TO THE GARDEN (until Lucien said so) AND ELAIN DIDN'T EAT (until Lucien arrived) OR GET OUT OF HER ROOM (until Lucien arrived) AND AZ ONLY FIGURED SHE WAS A SEER AFTER 2-ISH MONTHS (I think that was the time?) AZ DID NOTHING ABOUT THE FACT ELAIN WAS A SEER (Lucien did) LUCIEN ACKNOWLEDGED SHE HAD GONE THROUGH SOMETHING HORRIBLE WHILE AZRIEL ONLY CARED FOR HER POWER.

''Does she need....."-Lucien

''Were the ones who need.."-Azriel

ITS SO CLEAR WHAT THEY CARE ABOUT. Its no problem that Az was only concerned for her power because he is looking out for his court and his own job. However a mate pushes all that stuff aside and focuses on his/her mate.

''AZ GAVE ELAIN TRUTHTELLER''

MAYBE BECAUSE HYBERN WAS THERE? SHE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CHAINED IN FRONT OF AZRIELS EYES?? DON'T YOU THINK SHE NEEDS PROTECTION? WHICH IS WHY CASSIAN OFFERED TOO? AZRIEL ISN'T SPECIAL! ELAIN ONLY TOOK TT BECAUSE FEYRE ASSURED HER THAT SHE WOULD NOT HAVE TO USE IT. MOR BEGGED AZ WITH TEARS IN HER EYES TO OPT OUT OF THE BATTLE. HE DIDN'T EVEN NEED TT. ELAIN GAVE IT BACK WITHOUT A SECOND GLANCE. AZ LOOKED AT TT AND SAID NESTA BEHEADED THE KING ''HERSELF'' LUCIEN GAVE ELAIN CREDIT FOR SOMETHING THAT PROBABLY TOOK A LOT OF COURAGE AND BRAVERY.

BUH-BYE

[theostrophywife]

unholy.

masterlist (azriel x reader) author's note: once again, this fic is inspired by a song which the full version of actually just released today! unholy by sam smith and kim petras is the ultimate strip club vibes so you know i had to write an azriel piece about it. warning: public stripping, thigh riding, lap dances, daddy kink and mutual masturbation. honestly, take your pick and it's there. summary: tired of being the innocent one out of the inner circle, you show azriel your unholy fantasies.

It started out as a stupid dare. 

Get up on stage and dance. 

A simple enough task, propositioned by the one and only Morrigan. She didn't think you would actually do it. To be fair, you didn’t think you would either, but against better judgment, you found yourself agreeing. Fueled by strong faerie wine and the company of your friends, you were determined to let tonight be the night that you finally let loose. 

What started out as a spontaneous performance with the burlesque dancers on stage somehow snowballed into giving Azriel a very suggestive, very seductive, and very unexpected lap dance in one of the private rooms at Rita’s.  

But you were getting to that. 

In hindsight, perhaps things had gotten a little out of hand, but at least now no one could ever accuse you of holding back. 

Out of your circle of friends, you were always considered the innocent one. The sweet and demure healer who blushed at Cassian’s flirtatious remarks and balked at Mor’s suggestive dares. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced, but your hesitation and reluctance when it came to the inner circle's wilder antics unintentionally created a good girl persona for yourself that couldn’t be further from who you really were. 

In truth, you were just a notorious overthinker and it took awhile for you to get comfortable showing others your true colors. The majority of the time, you were perfectly content letting everyone chalk it up to shyness, but tonight Cassian’s teasing managed to get under your skin. 

“There’s no way you’re going up there, honey.” 

Even the nickname, dubbed by the Illyrian general to commemorate your first meeting at Madja’s clinic when you smeared honey salve on his once tattered wings, alluded to your supposedly saccharine nature. The rest of your friends spurred you on to join the burlesque dancer beckoning you onto the stage. All except the shadowsinger, who offered an apologetic smile on behalf of his brother. 

“Don’t listen to Cas. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

The remark was incredibly thoughtful of Azriel, but unbeknownst to him, it contained just the right amount of challenge to nudge you out of your comfort zone. You were tired of everyone assuming that you were coy and naive and perhaps showing them a different side of you would change their assumptions, Azriel included. Though the shadowsinger never made you feel ashamed of your more cautious approach, you wanted him to see you as more than the designated innocent member of the inner circle. 

“What if I want to?” you ask with a raised brow. 

The mischievous grin that spread across his beautiful face sent shivers down your spine. “Then you’d be making every male in this place very, very happy.” 

With a wicked smile, you rose from your seat and tossed your jacket at Cassian who stared after you in disbelief before launching into a deafening cheer. Beside him, Rhys and Feyre clapped while Mor whistled. Amren smirked over the top of her wine glass, but Nesta, who was the only friend who had ever witnessed your wild side first hand thanks to your countless girls night out with the Valkyries, simply mouthed a message of encouragement. 

Give them hell.

Your skin buzzed with anticipation as you climbed up onto the makeshift stage at Rita’s, sidling in next to the pretty pixie who twirled you around towards the audience. 

“And who is this pretty little thing joining us tonight?” 

You blushed, blinking under the bright faelights pointed in your direction. The varying colors flashed with every shade of the rainbow. “You can call me honey.” 

The dancer laughs in delight as the roaring cheer of your friends echo through the pleasure hall. “Let’s see if you’ve got some sting to you, honeybee.” 

With a snap of her fingers, the faelights dimmed and the music filtered through the room. A smoky blue spotlight kissed you with its hazy ring while fog skittered through your ankles. The pulsating beat thrummed through your body, drowning out your nerves with its seductive rhythm. You must have watched the burlesque dancers perform this routine half a dozen times and while it was more daring than your classical ballet training, the music flowed through your body all the same. 

Your hips swayed to the beat, losing yourself in the fluid movements of the dance. Leaning forward, you trace the outline of your leg, fingertips skirting along your supple skin, and stopping right above the hem of your dress. Teasing the audience, you allow the skirts to ride up to your thighs, giving them a brief glimpse of the lace garter holding up your thigh high stockings. 

The crowd was rambunctious as you winked before turning around and unzipping the zipper on the side of your dress. The dainty floral fabric slipped off with ease, revealing the lace nightgown that you were wearing underneath. You kicked the dress off to the side of the stage with your right heel, eliciting a roar of cheers from the audience. 

Mor was full on standing and whistling between her fingers. Teetering beside her, Feyre squealed in delight while Rhysand jokingly covered his eyes. Amren raised an amused brow while Nesta merely smiled. Her mate was the most boisterous of the group, letting the entirety of Rita’s know that it was his friend up there currently stripping for them. 

But it was Azriel’s gaze - golden and burning - that pierced right through you. The way the shadowsinger was looking at you made you feel more exposed than the act of undressing in front of nearly half the citizens of Velaris. 

Tossing your dark hair over your shoulders, you shot him a quick wink. He leaned forward to the edge of his seat, elbows pressed against the top of his knees while he watched you with unveiled scrutiny. Shadows peered over his shoulders, plunging him into a deeper darkness than the already dim lighting of the pleasure hall. 

Azriel had opted out of his usual dark leathers tonight and was instead donning a casual dark button up and black trousers. Thanks to the current heat wave in Velaris, the shadowsinger left the first few buttons of his shirt open, giving you a full view of the sprawling tattoos inked upon his golden brown skin. As if that weren't enough to give you heart palpitations, he'd also rolled up the sleeves to his elbows to showcase his strong arms. Your gaze immediately dropped down to the large veins covering them and immediately felt a bead of sweat slide down your back at the sight. Perhaps it was a peculiar thing to find attractive, but this was Azriel. The male made the act of breathing look like a masterpiece.

The other dancers gyrated around you and the pretty pixie gripped your waist, turning you once more to show you off to the crowd, but Azriel’s eyes remained solely fixed on you. An easy smile broke through his usual cool demeanor and a shiver went through your spine when he rose, those powerful wings of his flaring behind his back as he raised a glass in your direction. 

You swallowed thickly as he tipped the glass to his lips, the crimson wine sliding into his mouth and tinting those plush lips of his a deliciously wicked red color. Azriel never once broke eye contact while his pink tongue darted across his bottom lip, licking away the remnants of the alcohol. 

It was undoubtedly the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Perhaps that single flirtatious gesture was to blame for what happened next. 

After wrapping up your brief stint as a burlesque dancer, the drinks flowed and the party migrated to the private room reserved for you and your friends at the back of the building. As you made your way through the packed crowd, several people congratulated you on your performance and some even offered to buy you a drink. Never mind that you couldn’t recall the last time you paid a single coin out of your pocket for your countless nights out thanks to Rhysand’s open tab. You wouldn’t be surprised if the High Lord was singlehandedly funding this pleasure hall on the inner circle's supply of wine alone. 

Cassian waved off your admirers, drunkenly draping an arm over your shoulder. “Who the hell knew you had it in you, honey?” 

“I did,” Nesta announces proudly. “That was tame compared to the moves I’ve seen her unleash at the tavern.” 

You blushed, sticking a tongue out at your friend. “That was supposed to be our secret, Nes!” 

Mor chuckled, falling in step beside you. “Cat’s out of the bag now. Our honeybee is a certified smoke show. That little striptease was hotter than the Cauldron.” The blonde’s mischievous sights settled on Azriel. “Wasn’t she on fire up there, Az?” 

You elbowed the blonde, but she only grinned in response. 

“You brought the whole damn house down, honey.” 

Azriel’s words swept over you like a torrential wind. His gaze stayed glued on you all night, serving as your own little spotlight and burning brighter than the faelights from earlier. 

As you slid into the booth next to him, your body thrummed from post adrenaline rush. You hadn’t bothered to put your dress back on, opting to stay in the skimpy little nightgown that left barely a sliver to the imagination. Goosebumps prickled your skin as you scooted closer to Azriel, arms and thighs touching as Nesta and Cassian sandwiched the two of you towards the end of the table. 

The familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar enveloped you on all sides. To your left, Nesta shot you a knowing look which you rebuffed with a subtle shake of your head. 

Make a move, she mouthed. 

Fuck off, you responded. 

The brunette smirked and inclined her chin towards Azriel, who was looking at you expectantly. The boldness from earlier weaned under the intensity of his gaze. Despite Nesta’s urging, you couldn’t muster up the courage to make the first move. You’ve been crushing on Azriel since the moment Cassian had dragged him into Madja’s clinic, fussing and fighting against receiving treatment for a mild injury to his wing. 

You’d pulled out a sharp basilisk tooth, threatening to inject him with venom if he didn’t allow you to patch up his wing. Azriel had taken to you instantly after that, often dropping by the clinic to eat lunch with you or walk you home after a long day of tending to gruesome wounds. 

You cherished the friendship you had with him, but there were times when you wanted more. Tonight being one of them. 

Because in the midst of the loud, crowded room, you only really had eyes for Azriel. 

The shadowsinger smiles, draping an arm over your shoulder. A silver necklace peeked out from his exposed chest, settling into the hard planes of his muscles while he scooted closer. “I meant what I said earlier,” he states over the blaring music. “You were great up there.” 

“Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve been on stage.” 

Azriel squeezes your arm. “I’m only sorry that I never got to see you perform at the ballet.” 

You smile. He knew how much you loved dancing. When you met, you had just finished your stint as prima ballerina at the Velaris Ballet and shifted towards turning your volunteer work at Madja’s clinic into a full time job, though it never really felt like one. You liked helping people too much to consider it work. 

“Perhaps I’ll give you a private performance one of these days.” 

Just like that, the boldness was back with a vengeance. 

Azriel raises a brow. “Feeling daring tonight, are we?” 

You shrug nonchalantly. “The night’s still young. Who knows what sort of trouble Cas and Mor have in store for us?” 

You nod towards your friends, who were now dancing atop a table at the corner of the room. The wood creaked underneath their weight, but the two didn’t seem to notice. 

The shadowsinger chuckled beside you, his fingers skimming the side of your neck. They drummed a pleasant little pattern on your skin as you gulped down a sip of your wine. 

“Sorry about their teasing. They can get a little out of hand sometimes.” 

“It’s alright, I knew what I signed up for when I agreed to come out tonight,” you glance up at him, cheeks heating from a mixture of the alcohol and your close proximity to the Illyrian warrior. “Besides, it was time for me to come out of my comfort zone.” 

“Speaking of comfort zones,” Nesta interjects. “I think it’s time for a drinking game.”

Your friend beckoned her mate over and the rest of the inner circle followed suit. You raised a brow at Nesta, who rarely ever initiated these games. She shot a feral smile at you, which told you all that you needed to know. You were in deep shit.

“What are we playing, Nes?” Cassian asked. 

A mischievous smile spread across the female’s face. “Truth or drink.” She lined up the shot glasses in the middle of the table, filling each one to the brim with alcohol. “The person next to you gets to ask a question. You can choose to either answer truthfully or take the shot.” 

Mor smirked. “This should be fun.” 

Nesta nodded to the blonde, who was sitting right next to her youngest sister. “Looks like you’re up first, Feyre. Mor, will you do the honors?” 

The devious smile that spread across the beautiful female’s face was downright wicked as she nodded. She tilted her head, examining Feyre. “Out of all of the High Lords, who do you think is the kinkiest in bed?” 

You snorted as Feyre’s eyes went wide. Sheepishly, she mouthed a sorry to Rhys. “Helion, for sure.” 

Cassian hooted, clapping his brother on the back. “Don’t take offense, brother. The High Lord of Day would put any of us to shame.” 

Rhys grinned. “None taken. Helion can take the prize for kinkiest, as long as I’m still the most handsome High Lord in your eyes, Feyre darling.” 

“Get a room, you two,” Amren said with a roll of her eyes. She gestured to Feyre. “Now do us all a favor and ask your mate something to knock him down a few pegs.”

Feyre nodded, determined. “You once told me that you, Cas, and Az measured wingspans. To settle the age-old argument, who has the biggest wings?” 

The High Lord chuckled. “Easy. It’s Az.” 

Everyone glanced at Azriel, who only shrugged in response. Morrigan raised a brow. “Follow up question, if Az has the biggest wings then does my theory about its correlation to other body parts hold up as well?” 

Naturally, your gaze drifted to the shadowsinger who winked in response. He leaned in, shadows wafting over him like smoke. “Don’t tell me you’re curious too.” 

“Maybe I am,” you shot back flirtatiously. “For scientific purposes, of course.” 

“Of course,” Azriel echoes, squeezing your knee under the table. His hand remained there even as you both drew your attention back to the game at hand. 

Rhysand raised the shot glass in his hands. “Now that’s one secret I’ll never tell, cousin.” The High Lord tipped the liquor back and grimaced from the burn of the alcohol. 

His laser focus was upon Mor at once, stars winking into his violet eyes. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that this is a question all of us are dying to know. When are you finally going to ask Emerie out?” 

The blonde shot her cousin a glare. It had been nearly a year since Morrigan finally felt comfortable sharing the truth about her sexuality and all of your friends had been extremely supportive. On top of that, each of you were particularly invested in her budding romance with the Illyrian female. 

“Emerie and I actually already went out last week.” 

A chorus of gasps and inquiries erupted from your friends. Derailed by this new revelation, you watched in amusement as Cassian grilled the blonde for details. Sipping your wine, you tried to look everywhere but the hand resting on your knee. The front of your dress had slightly ridden up your thigh so Azriel’s fingers were splayed out on the sliver of exposed skin between the hem of your dress and the tops of your stockings. 

The shadowsinger was facing straight ahead, but a hint of a smirk graced his beautiful face as you tried not to squirm in your seat. 

“Enough about my love life,” Mor says with a wave of her hand. “It's your turn, Cas. Last Winter Solstice, I gave you custom red leather boots, but I have never seen you wear it once. Were you lying when you said you liked them?” 

Cassian’s eyes widened. You chuckled as the Illyrian general dramatically picked up his shot glass, tapped it on the wood, and downed the liquid in one gulp.

Mor gasped, slapping the sticky surface of the table. “You told me you loved them!” 

The wings upon Cassian’s back twinged slightly. “No comment.” 

“With you two? I thought the boots would get some use in the bedroom,” you say, wiggling a brow suggestively between Nesta and Cassian. 

Immediate regret shot through you like electricity as Azriel’s hand inched higher up your thigh. He squeezed gently and you nearly knocked your knee into the top of the table. Shadows pulled your ankles to the floor while Azriel's cool demeanor never once faltered.

While Mor and Cassian duked it out, the shadowsinger leaned over conspiratorially. “It’s not so nice to be on the receiving end of the teasing, is it?” 

“That's not fair. You're playing dirty and you know it, Az.” 

The grin he flashed was nothing short of feral. “Oh you have no idea how dirty I can get, princess.” 

Heat flared through your skin in response. What the hell was happening? You swallowed thickly, trying your best to keep up with the line of questions going around the table. In true Cassian fashion, the Illyrian general turned upon his mate with a downright ruthless smile. 

“During your last girl’s night at the House, all of you got drunk and decided to skinny dip in the Sidra. Two of the Valkyries backed out, but the others almost got caught by the sentries posted by the river. Which of you had to run buck naked through the night with only burlap sacks covering them?” 

Nesta’s gaze met yours. You gave her a small nod, confirming that it was alright for her to reveal your crimes. 

“It was me and honey.” 

The room erupted into boisterous laughter. Rhysand narrowed his eyes. “That was you two? The sentries woke me up in the middle of the night to ask if they should go after the streakers.” 

Nesta only shrugged. “Your turn, honey.” Her unyielding gaze flickers on your face, examining you with careful consideration. Then, a smile bloomed on her lovely face. “Have you ever had a dirty dream about anyone in this room?” 

Shit. You were going to kill her. Nesta was well aware of the answer to that question since you had shared a particularly steamy dream you’d had of Azriel that would’ve made Sellyn Drake herself blush. The shadowsinger’s fingers hovered over your skin, noticing the sudden stiffness of your limbs and the shift in your breathing. You twirled your finger around the rim of the shot glass, deciding your fate. 

“Yes,” you finally answer. 

Nesta smirks. “Care to share who the dream was about?” 

“You only get one question, Nes.” 

Your friends groaned, but Nesta only chuckled. “Fair enough.” A vexatious glint shimmered in her eyes while she nodded to your right. “Ask Az a question then.” 

Azriel smiled as his fingertips traced idle patterns on your skin. The contact made you clench your thighs together, but the pull of his shadows spread your feet apart so his hand could travel further up your leg. 

The Illyrian had a wolfish smile on his face as he whispered only low enough for you to hear. “Better make it a good one, princess.” 

You examined the male, grin growing wide as the perfect question came to mind. If Azriel wanted to play dirty, so be it. “Have you ever used the chains and whips in the dungeon for anything other than torture?” 

The whole room held their breath as the shadowsinger’s gaze met yours. Those hazel eyes of his beckoned you forth like a magnet, never once leaving your face as he picked up his shot glass. Licking his plump lips, he gave you a wink as he tipped the alcohol back. 

Cassian chuckled. “I think that was answer enough.” 

Azriel shrugged casually, not a hint of emotion breaking through that cool exterior of his. The game continued with another round of questions and the shadowsinger swept his hot touch over your skin once more.  The caress held nothing but promise.

“You’ll pay for that later, honey.” 

The threat made you dizzy with arousal. You were barely paying attention to the scandalous information being discussed, too busy with the task of discretely ogling Azriel through the rim of your wine glass. Your hot gaze trailed from the soft dark hair curling around his ears, inky strands caressing the sharp angle of his cheekbones. The glow of the faelights bathed his golden brown skin in a soft halo, hugging the elegant slope of his nose and framing his smirking mouth. With the rim of the wine glass caught between them, Azriel's lips appeared so enticing that it was almost criminal.

Gods, he was so fucking beautiful. It almost hurt to look at him directly.

Azriel squeezed you gently. “See something you like?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur. “You’re just so pretty, Az.”

You reveled in the blush that swept over his cheeks. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re the only pretty thing I see here, princess.”

You grin, batting your lashes. The rest of your group seemed utterly oblivious to the game happening between you and the shadowsinger. He inched his way closer to the edge of your panties as you sucked in a sharp intake of breath. The arousal coating the lace fabric had you soaked right through. The scent of it wafted up to Azriel who only smiled, satisfaction written all over his smug face. 

“Now be a good girl and ask me another question.”

An hour and two drinks later, you found yourself perched on the shadowsinger’s lap. The longer the night went on, the touchier you both got. It started with you playfully stretching your legs onto Azriel’s lap, which led to him pulling you by the ankles to bring you closer, and eventually bouncing you on his knee so you could hear each other better. 

The rest of your friends had joined the crowd outside, no doubt dancing the night away as you and Azriel stayed behind in the private room. On any other night, you would’ve been out on the dance floor partying it up with Mor and Feyre, but right now, you were perfectly content where you were. 

Azriel tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You should wear your hair down more often,” he states in a low and husky voice. “I like it this way.” 

His fingertips skirt over your collarbone, toying with the strap of your lace nightgown. The flimsy spaghetti strap slides off your shoulder, revealing the blue lace bra underneath. 

“This dress,” he murmurs in appreciation. “I like this dress on you, too.” 

You blush, tipping your head back in laughter. “Are you just going to keep naming things you like about me?” 

“We’d be here all night.” 

“You’re a shameless flirt, Az.” 

A shiver snakes its way up your spine as his shadows sweep over you, their cool touch caressing your cheek. “Only for you.”

“You seem different tonight,” he whispers into your ear. “Less guarded. More confident.” 

“Maybe I’m tired of everyone thinking of me as the innocent one.” 

Azriel chuckles. “The first time I met you, you threatened to stab me with a basilisk tooth. You never had me fooled for a second.” 

“You know what I mean, Az. I’m the one that always holds back. The one that overthinks everything. For once, I just want to be the fun one.” 

“Hence the stripping on stage?” he teases, twirling your hair between his fingers. You rolled your eyes playfully and he tickled your cheeks with the strands. “You are fun, whether you’re undressing for all of Rita’s to see or curling up with one of those smutty books you like so much back at your flat.” 

You tilt your head to the side, biting back a smile. “I don’t know. It might be silly, but sometimes I wish I had the courage to be this version of myself more often.” 

Azriel’s fingers traced the curve of your jaw. “You know you can always be yourself around me, right? The good, the bad, the ugly. I like every version of yourself that you allow me to see. Tonight is no different.” 

Warmth spread through your cheeks and you pitched forward, covering your face within the dark curtain of your hair. “You’re my best friend, Az. You have to say that.” 

The shadowsinger lifts your chin, examining your features with tender eyes. Your heart was pounding inside your chest so frantically that it would take a miracle for Azriel not to hear it. 

“Friends don’t think of each other the way I think about you,” he says softly. 

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered erratically. “And what exactly do you think about me?” 

He pauses, taking you in. “I think that you’re smart and sweet and funny. I think that my day never really feels complete until I talk to you because you’re honestly one of my favorite people.” Your heart fluttered in your chest as a hint of mischief flashed through Azriel’s eyes. 

With his voice low and his gaze hot, Azriel adds, “And I think that if I told you the filthy thoughts that crossed my mind while you were dancing on stage, no one would ever see you as innocent again.” 

A shiver went down your spine. You’d imagined crossing this line with Azriel so many times, but you were too afraid of ruining your friendship to ever pursue it. The flirting and the touching wasn’t anything new. You and Azriel had a tendency to draw towards each other wherever you were, but besides the occasional suggestive remark or lingering touch, neither one of you acknowledged the sexual tension brewing between you. 

More than that, Azriel truly was your best friend. You talked about anything and everything under the sun and you just understood one another. It’s rare to find a connection with someone like that. So, you kept your feelings under lock and key, but now Azriel had unlocked unknown territory. 

You couldn’t deny the desire rolling off of you in waves. The thoughts running through your head were ones that you only allowed yourself to think about when you were alone. Usually in your bed or in the bath with your fingers between your legs, but now, the male that consumed your thoughts just admitted that you consumed his too. You weren’t about to let this moment pass you by.

Music pulsed through the room and you could feel the seductive beat thrumming through your veins. You rose to standing, perching yourself between Azriel’s thighs. Guiding his hands over your waist, you shot him a seductive grin. 

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked, his voice so low you could barely hear it. 

“Showing you what I think about when I think about you.” 

The dim faelights flickered as your body swayed to the music, hips rocking side to side as you circled Azriel. The glow of the siphons on his hands reflected off the lights, bathing the entire room in a hazy cobalt fog. With the pulsating beat of the music and the sultry lighting, your body moved of its own accord. The shadowsinger's eyes followed your movements, from the way your fingertips traced the soft curves of your body to the sensual pop of your hips as you dropped it low. You slowly rose, bending over backwards and giving him a full view of your backside.

You continued to gyrate, your body flowing as smoothly as the Sidra. Winding and grinding, Azriel craned his neck to watch as you danced around him. You kneeled, fingers twining with his while you twirled back up to standing. Slowly, you pressed your chest against his and let your lips brush against his cheek while the tops of your breasts grazed his mouth. You tugged at the chain dangling on his neck, watching as his eyes fluttered close while you placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He tried to capture your lips in his, but you only chuckled while you turned around and perched yourself on his lap.

Azriel’s tongue darts out from between his lips as the straps of your dress fall over your shoulder. He inhales sharply as you settle between his thighs, grinding against him slowly while your hips rocked in a steady rhythm. The shadowsinger grips your waist in his large hands, fingers disappearing underneath the lacy fabric of your nightgown. Finally, you turn to face him and the ravenous look in his eyes made you shiver with anticipation.

He traced soothing circles against your skin as you settled over his right thigh, your arms hooking behind his head. Deft fingers hike the skirt of your dress up even more until your lace panties pressed against the fabric of his trousers. You rocked your hips over his thigh, moaning as the friction rubbed against your already soaking core. 

“Is this what you think about?” Azriel whispers into your ear. “Teasing the absolute hell out of me until I’m so hard that I can’t even think straight?”

“Yes,” you whimper as you buck against him, your arousal coating your lace underwear and his trousers. His fingers lace through your hair, gripping the back of your head with light force. “I fantasize about it all the time. In my bed. In the bath. Anywhere I can.” 

“Fuck, that’s hot. Do you get yourself off while thinking of me, princess?” 

“Always,” you admit breathlessly. “It’s always you.” 

“Do you touch yourself and imagine that its my fingers inside of you?” He groaned, kneading your ass with his hand. “Do you fuck yourself and call out my name?” 

You nod, the hazy fog of lust clouding your thoughts. “I do.” 

“Then show me, princess.” 

Azriel guides your hand towards your lace panties. He yanks them off you, tearing the delicate fabric and exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. The ruined lace rolls off your ankles and he discards them to the floor without a second glance. He lifts you gingerly, sliding out of his own pants so he could feel your arousal against his leg. 

“What would our friends think if they could see us now?” The dark chuckle that followed told you exactly how little he cared if anyone were to walk through the door. The risk of getting caught made this that much more enticing. 

“I don’t care,” you answer. “Do you?” 

Azriel guided your hips over his leg once more and the skin on skin contact nearly made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “My little exhibitionist,” he says with a smirk. “Tell me what you want.” 

You bit your lip, thinking. “I want to ride your thigh.”

He chuckles darkly. “Not so innocent now, are we? Is that really what you want? To ride my thigh until you’re nothing but a needy, whining mess in my lap?”

“Yes, Az. Please,” you plead, pouting your lips. 

“Come get yourself off on my thigh then, princess.”

That was all the encouragement you needed before you needily grinded against him. Azriel’s warm mouth connected to your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along your skin. His lips skirted over the hollow of your throat, nipping and sucking all the way down to your collarbone. He pulled down the straps of your dress, letting it drape down your torso as he admired the lacy blue bra hiding underneath. 

Azriel inhaled sharply at the sight of your cleavage. He continued kissing your chest while dexterously making quick work of the hook of your bra. Releasing your breasts from their constraints, he cupped your soft flesh before taking a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched as his tongue swirled around your peak and you continued riding his warm thigh, the slick sound of your arousal rubbing against him filling the room. 

The sensation on your clit is heavenly and you could feel yourself closer and closer to reaching your reprieve as he hums against your skin. A slick sound interrupted your thoughts and you looked down to find Azriel pumping himself while he watched you get yourself off on his lap. The sight of his hard cock in his hand made your mouth water. 

“Touch yourself for me, princess.” 

You whimpered, sliding a finger over your clit and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves while Azriel continued to rub himself underneath you. Two fingers slide into your pussy, coating them with your juices while you and Azriel watch each other masturbate. You bucked against your own hand, imagining that it was his cock underneath you and releasing a loud moan. 

“That’s it, princess. Keep fucking yourself against me until you cum.” 

The buck of your hips turns erratic as Azriel continues to watch you shamelessly get off on his thigh. Your toes curled, body tensing as waves of pleasure washed over you. The friction made your head swim with incoherent thoughts.

"Azriel," you gasp, moaning his name into the crook of his neck while you worked yourself towards release.

A light tug at the back of your head placed you face to face with the shadowsinger. His hazel eyes glowed with desire, drinking in the sight of you pleading his name like a prayer.

"Say it again."

With your mouth slightly open, panting as the pressure built behind your needy core, you whimpered. "Azriel."

His free hand drifted up to your nipple, rubbing and teasing as you bucked against his touch. Azriel licked the hollow of your throat, nipping at your soft skin and sucking at your flesh so hard that it was sure to bruise. You could only imagine the trail of love bites littered all over your neck.

Azriel grinned into your skin. "Don't cover my marks. After we walk out of here, I want everyone to know who did this to you. Who made you whimper and moan and beg. You're mine, princess. Do you understand?"

You whimpered against his neck. Shadows coiled at the base of your throat, turning your chin to place you face to face once again. The intensity of his hazel gaze burned into your skin like a brand.

"When I ask you a question, I expect an answer." Azriel withdrew his touch from your nipple and you whined at the loss of warmth.

"I'm yours, Azriel," you answer in a breathy pant. "I always have been."

The growl that emitted from the back of his throat was nothing like you’ve ever heard before. Azriel’s free hand tangled through the back of your head as he forcefully pressed his mouth against yours. Your lips melded together, making your head swim with lust as his tongue slipped inside your mouth. The kiss brings you over the edge and a whining pant escapes from the back of your throat as Azriel swears. 

“Let go, princess. I’ve got you.” 

Azriel kisses you, deep and slow, while you give yourself over to your orgasm. The tension in your abdomen uncoiled and you came all over his muscled thigh. With a growl, Azriel releases his cock from his right hand and plunges his own fingers inside of you. The peak of your release intensified as he curved his middle and pointer finger inside your walls, eliciting wave after wave of pleasure to rack through your body. You whine as he withdraws seconds later, your juices coating his digits. Arousal glistened on his scarred fingers and he brought them to his mouth, licking up every last drop of you. 

“You taste like fucking heaven, honey. Better than what I could’ve imagined.” He brought his fingers to your lips. “See for yourself.”

You took his digits into your parted mouth, swirling your tongue and tasting yourself on him. His eyes were nearly black as you sucked on his fingers, releasing them with a loud pop as he pulled them out of your mouth. 

“Such a good girl for me.” 

“I want to taste you, Az.” 

The curses that flew out of his beautiful mouth would’ve made a sailor blush. You smirked, giving him a quick peck before sliding down onto your knees. Above you, Azriel watched with lust blown eyes while you grip his cock in your dainty hands. Lifting his shirt, you greedily licked a trail up his abs while he shuddered at the sensation of your warm mouth. 

His wings flared behind him as a moan ripped through his chest. Pure, unadulterated pleasure rocked through his body while his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. “Keep teasing like that, princess and you’ll have me on my knees by the end of the night.”

Satisfied with that response, you pumped him in your hand and grinned. You spit in your right hand, rubbing up and down his length with determination. Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you licked his long, hard member from base to tip, catching his precum in your mouth while Azriel gathered your hair in his hands. 

Glancing up at him through your lashes, you squeezed him in your hand, slowly pumping his member as you began to take him into your mouth. Tears pricked the back of your eyes while his cock hit the back of your throat. Azriel was bigger than anyone you’ve ever taken. You gagged on the sheer size of his member, your spit trailing down his lap while you fucked him with your mouth. 

“That’s it, honey,” he said gruffly. “You can take it.” 

Azriel guided the back of your head, helping you bob up and down his length while he moaned your name. He yanked on your hair while you gagged, the sloppy sounds of you choking on his cock filling the room. The filthy swears coming out of his mouth only served to turn you on even more. 

“Does my pretty little princess like to choke on my cock?” He shudders, bucking his hips into your mouth. “You’re just begging to have your throat fucked, aren’t you?” 

You whined, inhaling through your nose while tears streamed down your cheeks. Saliva dribbled down your chin and you were pretty sure that you’d been reduced to nothing but a slobbery mess, but you were determined to get Azriel off with your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Azriel swears, rolling his head back as he spoke. “How are you so good at that? Taking me in so deep like a good girl.” 

You hummed while sucking your cheeks in, letting his length hit the back of your throat over and over again. The shadowsinger shuddered, wings fluttering behind him as he came closer and closer to his release.

“I want to make you cum, Az.” 

“Not yet, princess. I want to feel how wet you are for me first. I could smell your arousal all night and I want to fucking bury myself in it.”

He released his hold on your hair, picking you up from your kneeling position. Your legs wobbled underneath you, but Azriel steadied you and placed your hands on the wooden table directly in front of you. He swept away the remnants of food and drinks littering its surface onto the floor and hovered over you. Shadows swirled through your ankles, spreading your legs apart with force as Azriel cups your ass. 

“Be a good girl and bend over.” 

A shock of electricity jolted through you as you leaned over the table, face down and ass up. His fingers traced the thigh high stockings covering your lower half, cupping your ass in appreciation. A loud smack echoed through your ears as Azriel brought his hand down on your right cheek. The action stung and it would no doubt leave a handprint on your ass until the next morning, but your head was reeling with too much pleasure to care. Steadying himself on the table, Azriel lined the tip of his cock on your wet cunt and teased along your slit.

Your pussy throbbed with desire, needy and desperate to feel Azriel buried deep inside you. A whine escaped your lips as you greedily rocked against him. The shadowsinger smacked your ass again, gripping your waist in place. 

“I wouldn’t do that again unless you want to get punished. I decide when to put my cock inside you. Do you understand, princess?” 

You nod, goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Yes, daddy.” 

Azriel chuckles darkly. “Absolutely fucking filthy. My spoiled rotten little princess.” He braced himself behind you. “Now try and be quiet so the rest of the people here won’t know that daddy's about to fuck you into oblivion.” 

“I’ll be good.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

Azriel eased himself into you, swearing under his breath when he slid into your wet pussy. You were dripping for him and it made it that much easier for him to slip all the way in. He moved slowly, thrusting into you at a steady tempo until he hit that sweet spot within you that made you cry out in pleasure. Encouraged by your reaction, the shadowsinger rutted into you relentlessly and you tried to desperately swallow the moans rising within you. A small whimper slipped out and Azriel leaned over you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

“What did I say about being quiet?” he hissed into your ear, suddenly pulling out of you. The absence of his warmth inside you made you whine in desperation. 

“Please, I swear I’ll be quiet. You just feel so fucking good.” 

“Look at you begging for me. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Azriel’s hand trails up your torso, squeezing your breast on the way up before wrapping his fingers around your throat. “I suppose I’ll just have to find another way to keep you quiet.” 

Shadows clamp down over your mouth while Azriel pounds into you again, squeezing gently on your neck. The lack of oxygen combined with his aggressive thrusts had you reeling with pleasure. Until now, you’d never really understood the appeal of choking, but with his hand wrapped around your neck and his cock buried deep inside you, Azriel was convincing you otherwise. 

With your face pressed against the table, Azriel gathers your hair into his fist and leans over so that his chest is touching your bare skin. The cold sensation of his necklace hit the small of your back while he savagely pounded into you again and again.

“My honey’s just so pretty when I’m fucking her senseless.” He presses a kiss on your shoulder, teeth sinking into your skin as he railed you from behind. “Feels so fucking good. Like your pretty little cunt was made just for me.” 

The vice grip of your walls pulsed around his member while he hit all the right spots. Your legs were shaking as skin slapped against skin, the tempo of his thrusts matching the pulsating beat of the music blaring through the pleasure hall. If any of your friends walked through that door, they’d see the tears forming in your eyes as you begged Azriel for more. The thrill of getting caught in the act made you moan into the shadowsinger’s hand. 

He eased on his grip, leaning over to hear what you had to say. “Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me until I cum all over your cock. Please.” 

Azriel chuckled. “Since you asked so nicely, princess. I’ll let you cum first.” 

His hands traveled south, settling on your clit while he rubbed circular motions over the sensitive spot. The shadowsinger rutted even more aggressively into you and the sweet nothings he whispered into your hair had you gushing all over him. Turning your head towards him, he kissed you deeply and swallowed your moans into his own mouth. 

“That’s it, honey. Just ride it out. Wanna feel you cum while I’m deep inside you.”

The second orgasm rocked you harder than the first. Your walls clenched around Azriel, coating his member with your arousal while it dripped out of you. 

“Such a good girl. You want daddy to fill you up, princess?” 

You nod, biting your lip. Azriel’s veiny, tattooed arms came down on either side of you as he released a shaky breath. “Cum inside me, Azriel. I can take it.” 

It was all the encouragement Azriel needed to hear before spurting his seed inside of you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder to mask his moans of pleasure. The shadowsinger sighed in contentment, turning you over for a kiss. His forehead dipped down to yours, a shy smile spreading across his face. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern. It sounded so different from the confident, authoritative male from a few moments ago. 

You smiled, nodding your head. “Never better.” 

Azriel scanned the room and took in the mess you both made, the food and bottles littering the floor, the ruined underwear hanging over the booth, and finally, your disheveled sex hair. The two of you looked at each other and the gravity of what you’d just done hung in the air. A line had been crossed and you could never uncross it. 

Slowly, the shadowsinger breaks out into a grin. The gesture was contagious and you found yourself mirroring the act until the two of you were both bursting with laughter.

“This isn’t what I had envisioned when I finally told you how I felt.” Azriel finally says. 

“Oh yeah?” you ask teasingly. “What did you have in mind?” 

The shadowsinger chuckles, pulling the straps of your nightgown back over your shoulders. He gathered his pants and pulled them on quickly. Retrieving a small cloth from his pocket, he wiped up the remnants of his orgasm on your leg and set you down on a clean surface of the table. Azriel raked through your hair, wiping away the beads of sweat on your temple and setting a comforting hand over your shaking legs. He kneeled, slipping your heels back on and ensuring that they were properly strapped around your ankles. You couldn't even recall when you'd taken them off.

The gentle manner he took in your aftercare made you smile gently as he kissed your cheek.

“Well, I was thinking that I’d take you out for dinner. Pick you up from your flat and fly into the city. I even planned on buying you a bouquet of irises. Your favorite.” 

You beamed as Azriel smoothed down your hair. “Did you think you’d get lucky after our first date?” 

“I’d feel lucky just being with you.” Your heart squeezed in your chest. He winked, a mischievous smile spreading across his beautiful face. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope that you’d invite me up to your flat at the end of the night.” 

He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “I would have waited for you, though. However long it took.” 

“Haven’t you heard, Az? Waiting is highly overrated. If I learned anything tonight, it’s that you should just go after what you want. You never know how it might turn out.” 

Azriel grinned. “How did it turn out? Hypothetically speaking?” 

“Hypothetically speaking, I wish I had taken the leap out of the friend zone sooner. Hypothetically speaking, I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” you pause, biting your lip as you consider your next words. “Hypothetically speaking, I should have told my best friend that I was crazy about him ages ago.” 

Azriel was smiling so widely that it tugged at your heartstrings. “Factually speaking, your best friend is crazy about you, too.” 

He gathered you into his arms, lifting you off your feet as he kissed you gently. You savored the taste of him, the remnants of you on his tongue mixed with the wine from earlier was enough to make your head spin. Azriel pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“What do you say, honey? Will you go on a date with me?” 

“I’d really like that, Az.”

The shy smiles on both of your faces made you giddy with excitement. You couldn’t wait to explore this new territory with Azriel. He kissed you softly, feeling him grin against your lips. The two of you were so caught up in one another that neither one heard the door swing open. 

A drunk Cassian stumbled in, his eyes glazed over as he leaned against the ajar door. “Where have you two been all night? It’s a party out there.” 

Azriel shrugged, casually retrieving your ruined lingerie from the corner of the booth and slipping it into his pocket. “We’ve just been talking. Did we miss anything fun, brother?” 

Cassian nods, gearing up to tell you all about the antic he most likely caused outside, but then the Illyrian general paused. His eyes narrowed at the both of you, sniffing the air. 

“What the hell happened in this room? It reeks of sex in here.” 

Azriel stared at his brother for a split second. Then, he leans over to you dramatically, “Honey?” 

“Yes, Az?” 

“What do you think about going on that date right now?” 

A grin spread across your face. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.” 

With that, Azriel takes your hand in his and faces Cassian again. “Sorry Cas, no time to talk. I have a date to go on.” 

If it was possible for someone’s mouth to fall to the floor, Cassian’s would’ve currently been sitting on the sticky linoleum under your feet. 

“I can’t believe you seduced our sweet, innocent honey, brother,” Cassian says, half-surprised and half appalled.

You patted your friend on the arm. “Actually Cas, the lap dance was my idea, but it kind of just spiraled from there.” 

The surprised choking sound coming out of Cassian was the only thing you heard before Azriel led you through the door. You both looked back at the male, who was currently gaping at the wall as though he’d just received realm shattering news. 

Azriel only chuckled, kissing your cheek. “Looks like you do have some sting to you, honeybee.”

tag list: @despoinasstuff @lahoete @mulansaucey @moony-thoughts @fangirlworld46-blog @percyjacksonspeen

[coraniaid]

The only thing more powerful than the Buffy writers' reluctance to give screentime to a woman over the age of thirty is the collective Buffy fandom's eagerness to seize on the slightest scrap of canon characterization as evidence that said thirty-plus-year old woman is some sort of monster.

The show: Willow Rosenberg likes spending time with her mother and does so willingly even after moving out (as we see, for example, in Forever) and her mother was keen to invite her high school boyfriend over for dinner to try to get to know him as soon as Willow admitted to her that he existed (at the end of Gingerbread) and her mother was fully accepting (literally "proud") of Willow when she came out as a lesbian (already implicit, but confirmed in The Killer In Me). Oh, but she has a full time job in academia and sometimes Willow wishes she paid her more attention (this despite the fact that Willow canonically does hide things from her all the time) and she doesn't always notice when Willow cuts her hair or properly remember her friends' names and she only met Willow's first girlfriend a few times.

The fandom: well, clearly Willow is as much a victim of parental abuse as Xander Harris or Amy Madison or Faith Lehane. This is a completely reasonable and proportionate conclusion to come to based on one on-screen appearance and some throwaway lines of dialogue.

I mean ... don't get me wrong. Shelia Rosenberg is not a good mother. She's not much more than a cardboard cutout, really. Less of a character than even Hank Summers, and that's saying something.

What she is, really, is the sort of lazy cliche you get in a lot of teen movies of the 1990s and 2000s (something which is true of Joyce Summers as well at times, only Sheila is permitted far less depth or screen presence or other redeeming features). She's a somewhat reactionary take on the idea of an adult woman who dares to have a professional career and therefore cannot "properly" attend to the needs of her children. A woman too busy focusing on the abstract (her academic study of "adolescent development") to care about the practical (the growing pains of her own teenage daughter).

(Get it? See, it's funny, because she's a woman with both a child and a career. What will those crazy feminists dream up next?)

As written, Willow's mother kind of sucks: not because she's a bad person but because she isn't written as a person at all. She's a joke, and not a good one.

But the weirdly popular idea On Here that Willow is somehow traumatized by having what is, by all accounts, a fairly ordinary and comfortable childhood is absurd. There is simply nothing in the text to support this.

[wrexwas]

Jean-Baptiste Augustin in Baptiste Origin Story | Overwatch

[vamprisms]

we all know the most powerful character in the dc universe is alfred

[transjudas]

(x)

[idsb]

Oh FUCK umg to hell and back, why is no one talking about this?!?!?

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)

- - -

“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.

“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.

“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”

Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.

“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.

“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”

Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.

“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.

“Eh, not quite?”

“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”

“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”

“Explain. Now.”

“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”

Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.

“What are you?”

“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”

“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.

“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”

“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”

Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”

“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.

When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”

Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.

“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“

Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.

“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.

Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.

“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”

Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.

“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.

Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.

“What was that for?!”

Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.

“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”

[gael-garcia]

[msmargaretmurry]

this poll has me thinking so much about what kinds of hockey players i tend to love the most because like, there are so many genres and subgenres of hockey player and a lot of the time the genres overlap and i would never expect someone to be able to fit all of that into one poll but it is INTERESTING the roles guys get assigned. i voted face of the franchise bc in the moment i was like, yeah i love the narrative richness of the intersection of public image and pressure/responsibility and unknowable internality. but i don't think that's WHY i like players bc there are so many faces of franchises that i so deeply don't care about 😂

like. i feel like people On Here would classify me as a matthew gal or a dylan gal which is definitely not incorrect, but also only a fraction of my hockey feelings even make it onto tumblr at all so i ALSO consider myself an ebs gal and a nicke gal and a leon gal and a mike green gal and a dsp gal and a matt hendricks gal and a braden holtby gal and a joel ward gal ... i don't really really consider myself a quinn or brady or brock or petey gal even tho they are all extremely special guys to me because the vibe is different in the way i love them. they are still my guys but i am not a them-gal. you know? thatcher and william and andre and sasha barkov and casey fitz and charlie mac and matty gryz are guys i keep in my pocket. i have a whole lineup of guys i loved in juniors/college who played 0–5 nhl games and are now career ahlers or overseas somewhere. like i am also in my heart a john h.ayden gal and a riley b.arber gal. y'all cannot fathom what i was going thru when brien d.iffley and pat h.arper and josh n.icholls won an EIHL thing together this spring 😭 how does one even begin to categorize these players into a genre. my affections are based so much on a player with the right vibes catching me at the exact right moment for me to latch on like a cat chomping down on one of those fishing line toys with a fake mouse on the end.