#he wouldn't go within 100 feet of that line but

[fandomgeeknerd]

new york x florida for a valentines day edit or mood board.. thank u <3 :)

here ya go :>

[rubyreduji]

chicken — bsk

summary: the teasing between you and your best friend gets taken a bit too far

tags: smut (minors dni!), best friends!au, non-idol!au warnings: sexual content, grinding, boob sucking wc: 1.9k an: this man is SO FINE why aren’t more people obsessed with him

You and Seungkwan are sitting, listening to K-Pop, as two besties do, when Seungkwan suddenly starts to speak. “You know, I kind of think this album was a bit over hyped.”

“What?!” You screech, jumping to your feet. You’re in utter disbelief that your best friend would just insult your favorite album like that. “Take that back right now Boo Seungkwan!”

“You’re just mad I’m telling the truth,” Seungkwan scoffs.

“It wasn’t over-hyped! It was one of the best albums of the year. You’re just mad that your favorite album didn’t even make it on the charts.” You know it’s a low blow, but Seungkwan 100% started the fight.

“That’s not fair!” Seungkwan shouts, jumping to his feet as well. “They’re a new group!”

“They debuted two years ago! Plenty of groups have charted even within the first few months of debuting.”

You’re used to getting into petty fights with your best friend over everything and anything. Which shirt looks better on him, what kind of coffee is best, if his face looks puffy or not. So you know all of the right arguments to make and buttons to push.

“Just admit that the album wasn’t their best work,” Seungkwan gets in your face.

“I will when you finally admit that their whole discography is some of the best work in the K-Pop industry.” You step closer to him, pressing your chest up against his.

“Yeah right. They’re good, but not the best. You’re just delusional.”  

“And you can’t admit you’re wrong.”

“Like you’re right?”

“I always am, aren’t I?” You smirk and Seungkwan rolls his eyes so hard you’re afraid they’re going to pop out of their sockets. He gets you’re just teasing him at this point.

“I’m the reason you listen to K-Pop in the first place.”

“Yet, I still have better opinions than you.”

“You’re literally insane. You’re obsessed with being right and you wouldn't know good music opinions if they smacked you in the face.”

If you were talking to anyone other than Seungkwan, you might have gotten offended, but this is Seungkwan, you know he’s just hot headed and doesn’t mean it. Instead you just smirk at him.

“Ooh you wanna kiss me so bad,” you say in a teasing tone.

Seungkwan scoffs and finally pulls back a bit. It’s not uncommon for either of you to pull a line like that out. “Oh, shut up.”

Normally neither of you would be bothered by it, but you want to push Seungkwan a bit more. “What? Too scared?”

“To what? Kiss you? Please, I'd be doing you a favor.”

“Yeah?” You lean in towards Seungkwan.

“Yeah.” Seungkwan leans in closer.

“Then do it, chicken.”

There’s always been a sort of…tension between you and your best friend. Always toeing the line of being something more than just best friends. Years of built up arguments and hot-headedness; Chan once described it as “sexual tension so thick it suffocated him”. Neither of you talk about it, but it’s always a bit apparent.

Seungkwan leans in closer, you do the same. You can feel his breath against your face as you two are only a few inches apart. Your throat is tight as you hear the thud of your heart rapidly pounding against your chest.

“Still have time to back out,” you say in a low voice, doing your best to ignore your own reaction to Seungkwan being so close. 

“No way,” Seungkwan responds, pressing your noses up against each other. Your lips are basically brushing, just mere millimeters apart.

“C’mon Seungkwan, don’t be a pussy.”

That’s all it takes for Seungkwan to close the gap, pulling your body against his as he captures your lips. The kiss is harsh and Seungkwan’s pressing a bit too hard, but you don’t pull away, grabbing onto him too. 

He tastes like a mix of the americano he was sipping on earlier and the slice of cake you two shared for lunch. The bittersweet taste lingers on his lips and you do your best to lap it all up, taking in as much of Seungkwan as you can.

His skin feels soft under your fingertips and as you grip his face, squeezing his cheeks so you can pull him closer to you. Realistically you know you don’t have to be holding him so tightly, frantic to burn this moment in your memory like it will completely disappear if you two pull apart. You’re not thinking realistically though. All you’re thinking about is Seungkwan and Seungkwan kissing you and Seungkwan’s hands on your waist and Seungkwan’s fresh scent in your nostrils and Seungkwan’s tongue swiping over your lips and Seungkwan, Seungkwan, Seungkwan. You want more of him, despite already having all of him.

You don’t feel too bad about wanting Seungkwan so desperately though, because he seems to be in the same boat. His fingers dig into your shirt, gripping the fabric so tightly it pulls taught against your stomach. His body is practically shaking in your grip as he presses against you harder and harder, his tongue licking into your mouth to taste you better. You can hear the soft mewling noises he makes when you suck on his tongue.

This has been a long time coming and you two put all your years of pent up feelings into the kiss. You barely take a break for air, panting into each other’s mouths for a few seconds before diving right back in. Your hands have moved into Seungkwan’s hair, fisting the soft strands between your fingers. Seungkwan’s hands have been rubbing up and down your torso for a few minutes now and it sends a warm thrill through your body.

You feel Seungkwan tug at your waist as he walks backwards, falling onto the couch when it hits the back of his knees. He pulls you down with him, tumbling onto his lap. He helps you get situated in his lap, positioning you so you’re straddling his thighs, your core placed right over his crotch. You can feel the bulge of Seungkwan’s cock pressing up against his shorts and you’re glad that you’re not the only one whose gotten worked up from the kissing, your panties drenched from your arousal.

“Kwannie,” you whine out, soft and needy. You roll your hips experimentally, slow and teasing, and you relish in the gasp that Seungkwan lets out, his fingers digging into your thighs. 

He throws his head back a bit, panting his breaths out. “Fuck, do that again.”

You do, dragging your clothed cunt over his lap, grinding against his confined cock. You can feel the pressure against your clit, sending thrums of pleasure through your body. You repeat the motion, over and over again against Seungkwan’s lap, pleasuring both you and him.

Seungkwan has now buried his face in your chest, kissing at your exposed cleavage. Your mind has quickly fogged with lust as you ball the back of Seungkwan’s shirt up in your fists. Your body feels so fucking good right now, but you need more. Reluctantly you pull back from Seungkwan, climbing out of his lap.

Your best friend whines at you, sending you a confused look. You don’t answer, just start to shed your pants, pushing them off your hips and down your legs. Seungkwan’s eyes light up when he sees you doing this and he does the same, quickly kicking his shorts off onto the floor. You lick your lips at the sight of strong, thick, pale thighs on display for you and you think about how you wouldn’t mind your head being crushed by them. You can’t think about that just yet though.

You tug your shirt over your head as well, leaving you in just your bra and panties. When you climb back onto Seungkwan’s lap you lift his shirt over his head as well, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.

With two layers gone now, you can feel the definition of Seungkwan’s cock much better now against your folds. Your panties are drenched by now and leave little to no barrier of your cunt against Seungkwan’s boxers. You’re sure you’re getting his own underwear wet as well, your slick seeping through his boxers and rubbing up against his length.

With both of your shirts off now, you can feel the heat coming off of Seungkwan’s body. Your bare skin feels nice pressed up against his, giving you another layer of closeness to your best friend. Seungkwan’s fingers trace circles against your hip as you speed up your hips.

“Y/N,” Seungkwan mumbles against your ear and you pull back to look at his face. His eyes are droopy with desire and his lips are plump from all of the kissing. You’ve mussed up his hair from burying your fingers in it and you can’t help but grin at just how fine he looks right now.

“Kwannie?”

His fingers move up your back and flick at the clasp of your bra. “Can I please…?”

You nod and it takes barely a second before your bra is on the floor as well, your tits bare to the room. He paws at them, squeezing them and tugging at your nipples and you arch your back into his touch. You lean back and brace your hands on his knees, grinding down harder when you feel his lips wrap around one of the buds, sucking it into his mouth. 

Your body is desperate to cum now, your limbs trembling as you struggle to remember to breathe. Seungkwan’s body is pushed forwards with his arms wrapped tight around your waist as he continues to attack your chest with his mouth. 

You can feel that you’re so close, your body starting to tensen up. You can feel Seungkwan’s hips thrusting up to meet your grinds, his hard cock knocking against your clit over and over again. Under you, Seungkwan is a mess, panting and whimpering as his fingers bruise your sides with how hard he’s gripping you. His mouth has gotten sloppy, his mind too fuzzy to put his complete focus into sucking your tits.

Your whole body feels on fire and the only way to extinguish it is to get your release. You’re not sure your legs can keep doing this for much longer though. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate to cum. Just when you feel like you’re about to die from how pent up you are, your orgasm hits you like a train. Your legs shake as you cling onto Seungkwan, your head falling against his shoulder.

Seungkwan thrusts his hips up against you, before he’s shaking too, painting the inside of his boxers white with his release. You pull your head away from Seungkwan’s shoulder, bringing your lips to his once more. Your two kiss messily, all wet and warm and sloppy as you two come down from your highs. Your body is satiated for now and when you pull away from Seungkwan he looks content as well, a pretty post orgasm glow illuminating his face.

“I think we needed that,” you finally break the silence. Seungkwan laughs. With his arms still around your waist, he rolls over so he’s laying on the couch, your body tucked into his side. You snuggle even closer, burying your head into his neck.

“Should we talk about it?” Seungkwan asks after a couple moments of silence.

You snort. “Yeah probably. Let’s take a nap first.”

“Yeah okay,” Seungkwan agrees, wrapping his arms around you tighter, content to work things out later.

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[gococogo]

Congrates on 100 follows. Would i be able to suggest a shaytham fic with a sappy but angsty vibe with the prompts,

"If I asked you to stay, would you?"

"You said you wouldn't fall in love with me" "I lied"

Thank you

Prompt 4 / Shaytham

Synopsis: Shay is reckless in battle and always ends up finding himself in trouble. And so Haytham has to be the one to save him.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warning: Violence. Blood.

Notes: I combined two asks together because you guys basically asked for the same thing. So here you guys are! Finally. Enjoy!!

Canon fire deafens Haytham’s ears as a chorus of booms sounds off on the starboard side. He holds onto his tricorn with one hand and a firm, white knuckled grip on the railing in front of him as the harsh salty wind whips into his face. The Morrigan creaks and groans as her captain turns her towards the enemy ship. Canon smoke is thick in the air and it’s hard to even see where the other ship is.

But Shay steers with confidence, shouting orders with his accent thickening. On deck, Gist relays them to whomever hasn’t heard them. Even slapping a few men on the back of the head that aren’t moving quick enough. In the heat of battle, everything can go wrong on the open ocean.

Sailing with Shay, it makes Haytham wonder if this is what it would have been like with his father.  

A round of enemy canon fire are thrown across the Morrigan’s deck. Within the smoke, Haytham can make out a couple of men being thrown off the side of the ship. Wood and splinters fly up and some even come Haytham’s way. That is the least of his worries as the entire ship shakes with such force that it sends Haytham halfway across the poop deck.

He regains his footing quickly even though his head spins. His hat is somewhere that isn’t his head, but that’s the least of his worries. Shay is nowhere to be seen on deck and the enemy ship looms over the Morrigan, a dark shadow in the smoke the curls into the grey sky. Hooks and anchors connect the two ships, pulling them together. Everything happen quickly that for a split second, he’s engrossed by the size of everything.

Haytham scowls to himself as he stands to his feet, his chest constricting at the thought that Shay isn’t in his line of sight. As if he’s some child that Haytham has to look after and he’s not a grown man himself. But it wouldn’t be akin to that. No. No, something much worse that is something closer to affection.

One of the crew members from the other ship climb up and over the railing. As quick as anything, Haytham has already crossed the deck to drive his sword into the stomach of the man. With a gasp and a silent cry, Haytham pushes him back over the side of the ship into the warm River Valley water.

The canon smoke begins to disperse and Haytham is able to see the pure chaos that has erupted on deck. Shay’s crew fight with tooth and sword, clashing and fending themselves against their attackers. He spots Gist in the mist of it all, his hat blown off somewhere. His wet hair flings into his face as he fights but he can’t let that get in his way when his life is on the lines.  

A scrawny man comes rushing up the stairs to Haytham, his teeth all black and missing. He strikes with a machete but misses enterally and swings again. This time Haytham meets his own sword with his blade and throws the scrawny man off balance. His sword to his neck is what sends the scrawny man tumbling back down the stairs.

He almost feels sorry for Shay’s deck. That blood is going to take some scrubbing to get out.

Gunshots pierce through the already tense air and Haytham’s head whips towards the commotion. Near the front of the Morrigan, Shay holds onto a man by the nape of his coat. The man tries to scramble away and kick and thrash, only for all of it to end with a hidden blade in his chest. Shay throws him aside without a second thought, advancing onto the next.

Shay takes down two more men, one with his hidden blade, the other with a bullet through the liver. All done in quick succession that Haytham can’t seem to draw his eyes away. He can pick up the assassin training still burnt into his muscles and bones. How he moves. How he’s light on his feet even for a six foot man.

But even trained assassins make mistakes sometimes. Shay turns too slowly towards his next target. The man’s knife stabs straight into his shoulder, snarling into the captain’s face. He pushes Shay back, twisting and driving the knife in deeper. Shay shouts loudly, trying to push the other off but to no avail. They tussle and try to overthrow the other until the hefty man decides enough is enough, and throws both of them over the side of the Morrigan.

Haytham moves quick, slashing and driving his sword into any man that isn’t of the Morrigan’s. He pushes a man aside, uncaring who they are as he finally reaches the side of the ship. He looks over, almost hauling himself over at how desperate he’s moving. His heart is in his in his throat and it hammers loudly within his ears. He finds himself not thinking straight as he looks down.

And holding on by one of the canon windows is Shay. He meets eyes with Haytham and can’t help but smile up to him. Haytham can only frown though, his heart still racing in his chest. What an idiot. An absolute fool! Haytham scowls to himself before pushing off the railing. He goes to speak to Shay, but instead pushes his way through the crowd once more to get to the lower decks. All to save this man from falling into the River Valley himself.

-

By the time Haytham is able to drag Shay back aboard and make sure he is uninjured, the fighting above has all but subsided. Gist’s voice can be heard barking and snapping orders around to the crew, telling them to tie up the ones they’ve captured and to throw the dead overboard. Not their dead though, the Morrigan’s dead will be given a proper funeral before being cast over to the sea.

The knife still sticks out of the Irishman’s shoulder as he sits within the confines of his quarters with the ship medic. He’s a large burly man that goes by the name, Cassidy. For a man his size, his fingers are nimble as they get to work. Haytham flinches inwardly as the knife is pulled from Shay’s shoulder.

The butcher has Shay sitting in front of his war map table. Everything that was displayed has been put aside to make room for the medical supplies. His coat and shirt are quickly torn down to his waist as soon as the knife is out. Shay’s face is screwed up in pain, but he holds his tongue. Only because Haytham stands on the other side of the table with his arms crossed over his chest. A deep-set frown on his feature that is akin to a disappointed parent.

Shay tries his best to avoid looking in the direction of the Grandmaster. But he can’t help himself. Even through his squinted and scowled ridden face, he peers in Haytham’s direction. Shay will have to admit to himself, he’s never seen the man so terrified in his life. That the expression that he saw plain as day on the Grandmaster’s face, an expression that has truly sent a pit of something heavy deep within his chest that flutters every so often.

When the first stitch goes through, a deep groan escapes Shay’s throat. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that Cassidy works quickly so this is over and done with. When he opens his eyes again, a short glass of golden whiskey is being held out to him. He stares at it a moment, looking up at the owner of the hand even though he knows who stands before him.

How long was he holding himself still for? Long enough for Haytham to pour him a drink?

Haytham raises a brow, as if asking if he even wants it. Shay takes it with some urgency and downs it in one go. Haytham watches him grimaces at the burn of the whiskey with a satisfied look before moving away to pour a second glass. This one he takes himself. A need to try and calm his still bristling nerves that buzz under his skin. He pours a third, handing this one out to Shay again. And like before, the Irishman downs it in one go. Haytham moves off satisfied.

The whiskey seems to dull the pull and poke of the needle and stitches but a few groans still escape Shay’s mouth. Haytham can’t seem to drag his eyes away from the other man. Hair a mess, skin bruised and battered with the strong smell of sweat and blood in the air.

Cassidy bites the last stitch off and wipes his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. It isn’t sanitary in the slightest, but he guesses it will do with the rest of the golden whiskey being poured over the wound. Shay bites back a yowl deep within his throat, his eyes looking as if they’re about to pop out of their sockets. He sits back in the chair heavily, pushing Cassidy’s hand away with the whiskey. The butcher looks to him with a glare before drawing the last mouthful of whiskey left out of the bottle.

“I know you won’t listen to me you buffoon,” Cassidy starts as he stands. “but don’t put any strain on those stitches,” he scowls.

“Aye, aye,” Shay mocks.

Cassidy rolls his eyes as he packs up his things. He leaves the cabin with a short nod towards Haytham, bidding him fair well. Haytham looks back to Shay who shrugs on his shirt with a wince. There’s something on Shay’s mind. His gaze a far and anywhere but here.

“That was foolish of you,” Haytham comments.

The words don’t seem to register with Shay until a few passing moments later. His brown eyes land on Haytham with a raised brow and slight hum coming from his lips. He catches the Grandmaster’s gaze flickering down to his gut where his stomach is still exposed. It’s only for a moment, but he catches it all the same.

“Getting stabbed?” Shay asks.

“Letting your guard down,” Haytham corrects with a flick of his finger.

He moves around the table to Shay and leans down slightly so that he can undo the last button of his vest. He takes it off Shay without a word, patting it down before holding an arm out to him. Shay eyes him, as if something clicking behind those dark eyes. He takes the gesture, placing one arm through the hole as Haytham helps him dress again.

It silent for a moment as Shay does up the buttons to his vest. Haytham finds himself watching, making sure that the captain is decent again. Or maybe he wants to make sure that Shay is able to do it just fine. When Shay does up the last button, he finally moves off with a satisfied nod.

“You said you wouldn’t fall in love with me,” Shay says abruptly.

Haytham movements pause for a moment, his eyes distancing themselves for a second before refocusing back down on Shay. The Irishman looks up to him, a scarred brow raised. Haytham frowns softly on the verge of disgust. But it isn’t quite that.

They talked about this months ago. About how dangerous it would be for the both of them. About how that if they did find themselves falling, they’d stop. But here Haytham is, the Grandmaster of the Templars, falling in love for a former Assassin.

“I lied,” Haytham bites back. But there’s no real maliciousness in his words.

Shay can’t help but chuckle softly, shaking his head lightly as he looks away. His cheeks blush a soft red that has Haytham wanting to reach out and touch. To see just how hot his face becomes when he turns as bright as a tomato. But instead he stands up straight, placing a hand on the table.

“We talked about this Haytham. You’re the one that talked about it,” Shay speaks firmly now. “Insisted even.”

But Haytham changes the subject, turning his back, “I’ll inform Gist that he will be taking the helm until we arrive back in New York,” Haytham walks around to the other side of the table and picks up his tricorn that he found on the deck, “You are to stay in here until you’ve healed enough,” He orders as he places his hat upon his head.

Shay clears his throat loudly causing the other man to stop in his tracks. He turns slowly, dark blue eyes filled with curiosity.

“Gist already knows what he’s doing,” Shay says as he stands. “And this is all but a nick, sir.”

He adds a roll of his shoulder which is the worst decision he could have made. He hisses in pain as he pulls the stitches, coddling his arm close to his chest. Haytham raises his brows, looking Shay up and down.

“Maybe just one night then,” Shay chuckles as he leans against the table.

“Good,” is all Haytham says. He turns again but like the perviously, is interrupted before he can even get a hand on the doorknob.

“Sir.”

Haytham turns his full attention to Shay this time, the tone of such a simple word having beckoned him. Shay walks over to his liquor cabinet and grabs out a half empty bottle of a dark golden whiskey. The strong stuff. He turns back around his heels, holding the bottle in his good arm. He looks at Haytham for a moment before snapping back to reality.

He asks a question as he wonders back over to the table, “If I asked you to stay, Haytham, would you?”

Haytham watches Shay for few heart beats. Watching him pour whiskey into one glass before placing a second on the table. The bottle hovers over the second, Shay waiting for an answer. He doesn’t like to waste good liquor.

The Grandmaster sighs a little defeated. He takes off his tricorn and places it on the table once more. Whiskey is poured into the second glass.

“If only it keeps you from heading out and tearing out your stitches,” Haytham comments lowly.

Shay holds out the glass with a smile. “Oh, I think you’re one of, if not the best distractions around.”

Haytham takes the whiskey with a grumble of, “Now don’t go pushing your luck.”

To that, Shay’s grin only grows wider.

-

:)

[bradleybonkbradshaw]

97. hangster lmao.

Hey, thank you for this!

Here you go, hope you enjoy! The prompt is in bold as you're reading. Any mistakes are mine - unfortunately.

Warnings: Overstimulation

Jake knows his plan is going to have to wait, not that it was much of a plan - seducing Bradley these days is fairly easy, given that they're engaged and all - but Jake can see how his body is sagging, his eyes are red, irritated and drooping, he's practically shaking with the effort of carrying his bag, the relief when he drops it is visible. 

Jake smiles softly anyway, waits quietly to be noticed leaning against the door. 

Bradley kicks off his shoes and, eventually, he turns, his eyes lift and his smile, though laced with exhaustion, still manages to change his entire face. 

"Hey, baby," he mumbles, stepping into Jakes space, swaying into him until they're pressed together, his nose in Jakes neck, breathing in deeply, letting Jake take his weight. "Missed you."

Jake rakes his fingers through Bradleys hair, careful not to tug too hard.

"Missed you too, baby,"  he sighs, "that bad? You're dead on your feet."

He gets a grunt that he can feel in his shoulder in response and then;

"Can't sleep without a one hundred and eighty something pound idiot sprawled all over me, making me too hot." 

Bradley ends up standing upright with Jake unable to stop laughing for a solid few seconds. He finally pulls himself together and hums, a deliberate drop in tone and spark in his eye, wraps both arms around Bradleys waist.

"Shame."

"Yeah?" Bradleys eyebrow lifts, curious.

"I had plans for you," he smiles - something more like a smirk, "but if you're too tired–" 

Bradley sighs and has the good sense to look a little dejected, but he stays quiet. 

“I was good while you were gone. I didn’t even touch myself.” Jake throws it out on a whim, wanting to see how Bradley would react, though it wasn't a lie. If he'd woken up humping the sheets of their bed more than a time or two, that was between him and the ghoul in the closet. 

He's almost a 100% certain if Bradley could will away the need to sleep; he would. The way he visibly shuts down and reboots at those words is endlessly satisfying, it sends a thrill up and down Jakes spine. 

"Two weeks? Not once?" Bradleys voice cracks and Jake only shakes his head, bottom lip between his teeth. 

The breath Bradley lets out is shaky and the next thing Jake knows, he's pinned against the wall a few steps behind him, Bradley nipping at his bottom lip and begging entry into his mouth with his tongue. 

It's everything Jake had been hoping for even if he does feel a little guilty. He clings to Bradley, savours the feel of him so close and prays neither of them have to leave again anytime soon. 

The next second Bradley has a hand shoved down Jakes sweats, the evidence of what he'd just been told throbbing between his legs with the minisscule amount of attention, already leaking pre-come.

Bradley takes Jake in his hand, loose for a moment, stroking leisurely, planting kisses over his face, just enough that Jakes eyelids droop and he slumps into the wall.

"Guess it would be mean of me to not give you something, then, wouldn't it?" He rasps.

Jake doesn't get time to respond with anything other than a desperate moan as Bradleys hand tightens and he pulls at Jakes cock with a tunnel vision focus on his goal. Within seconds he's lost the wherewithal to kiss Bradley back; or do anything other than grasp on him, tremble and moan, his hips arching off the wall, pushing himself into Bradleys hand. 

He tries to speak, to warn, but all that come out is a series of reedy sounds along the lines of buh, ah and i'm-.

"It's okay, baby, come on, you can come." There's a ghost of hot air over his ear and he does. He comes so hard he might black out. He doesn't know how long it goes on for, but it feels like forever.

It doesn't stop. 

Bradley doesn't stop. 

Jakes brain finally comes back online and Bradley is still stripping his cock, fast, his grip tight, thumb pressing into and sweeping over the slit sporadically.

Jake curls in on himself as much as he can, a broken cry dragged out of him as the sensation hurtles toward pain, while it still feels so good. His toes clench, muscles locking up, right on the verge of giving himself cramp and Bradley keeps going. 

Bradley's talking, Jakes not sure what he's saying. It sounds nice, soft - encouraging - a complete contrast to how forceful his hand is.

When he comes again, it's dragged out of him, so violently he can't make a sound until seconds later. He feels like he might drop straight through the floor if he falls now, but by some miracle Bradley has him. 

Bradley has him all the way to bed.

Send more prompts but i'll just keep writing them anyway

[antibigotwhumpblog]

Crucifixion Pt.2

(Prev, Next, Masterlist)

Cw: Whump, Toxic Christianity, Mouth and Hand Gore

She might not have been able to move, but she could still feel it when he pounded the nail through her tongue. She forced back a scream. It began with the vibration of the metal against metal, then the curse the item held twisted the flesh inside the tongue tighter and tighter, and then the sting and tear as it slid through, and punched a hole in the roof of her mouth. He finally let go once the deed was done. Above all the agony the specific nail she had in her mouth was horrific. Her mouth hung open as she was paralyzed from shock. The man did draw a vial from his pocket. She resigned herself to his cruel intentions, but instead, he poured the children's tears over his fingers to clean her spit from his hands. As a human, he was physically insusceptible to the acidity of children's tears, but she could guess he'd apathized himself spiritually from the meaning of the substance as well. After he cleaned himself, the man motorized. He began to set up a large array of tools and weapons from the wall. She watched in her peripheral as she stared at the ceiling. She had nothing to be afraid of. Her tongue would heal just as probably as her wings would. They had regrown in the position the mortal had folded them into, but she had to hope they would be still functional. This man was nothing more than a human, and she was a mighty and blessed angel. He could make her cry by using pathetic, cheap bastard magick, but God served as her shield. The mortal's largest piece of equipment was a full-sized cross, except the peg leg had been severed. She could do nothing but watched as he placed a bucket of nails, and the same silver hammer next to it. Behind that, he'd unfolded a plastic table and displayed rows of sinful items she could not name. She masked her face like a sculpture. The mortal once again untied her ropes without touching her and allowed her to fall to the ground. Pain blistered around her ankles as her feet hit the ground, and she fell. The man picked a pocket knife out of his suit and glided the blade across her feathers. She tensed her shoulders. The mortal snapped the ropes off, and the lines scorched into her wings sizzled from the commotion. She tried to adjust them, but her wings wouldn't move. Her stomach dropped as she realized they had healed shut. She attempted to stand. The floor beneath her caught fire, and a beautiful orange wrapped its tendrils around her arms and calves. She shrieked and writhed back onto the ground. The fire died. She shivered from the miserable sting.

"You will do as I say," He instructed, "Kneel at the foot of the cross."

She looked up at him from where she lay on the ground but with the haunt of someone 100 feet above him. She looked at him with all the love for humans God placed within her soul. She looked at him with her master's terrifying holiness.

The human stared back without the fear of God, "I am your master now. You don't have a choice."

She hadn't moved, but the fire burst from the ground nonetheless. She held a scream in her throat, and the fire crashed over her back. Her whole body inflamed, it ripped blistering, firey paths along her skin.

"Go on! Crawl!" He shouted at her. His voice was low and angry.

She didn't have a choice. She gathered the strength to lift her arm and placed it outside the circle of fire. The cold air sucked a new pain out of her blisters, and she cried. She crawled as fast as she could out of the heat of the fire, only to find it followed her path along the floor to ensure she made it to the cross. She collapsed at its wooden foot. The human gave her no reprieve. He clutched onto her wrist despite her raw burn and fought against the slime as he forced her arms to stretch across the tallest cross leg.

[inevertookart]

Context Design

Made of of Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Johns and John Bonham, Led Zeppelin formed in London in 1968. Originally The New Yardbirds the group had their first Scandinavian tour in September 1968 and would later that month go on to record their first album.

The New Yardbirds wouldn't last long, after completion of the first album the band would receive a cease and desist from a former band member stating the name only covered so long and by the end Scandinavian tour the The New Yardbirds were no longer. There are mixed stories about how it came to pass but the story I like the most (read online) was, In May 1966, Moon and Who bassist John Entwistle recorded the instrumental "Beck's Bolero" with Page, John Paul Jones and Jeff Beck. The track came out well, and they tossed around the idea of forming a new band. Moon allegedly said the band would go over like a lead balloon. A few tweaks were made to make the name more appealing and understandable and Lead Zeppelin was born.

Lead Zeppelin would go on to be one of the most successful music artists of all time with record sales ranging from 200 - 300 million units worldwide. With such a a massive career and some amazing albums it was the cover of their first album self titled Lead Zeppelin 1968 that I liked.

Originally taken by Sam Sher on his big sphere camera, the Hindenburg disaster. On May 3, 1937, the Hindenburg left Frankfurt, Germany, for a journey across the Atlantic to Lakehurst’s Navy Air Base. Stretching 804 feet from stern to bow, it carried 36 passengers and crew of 61. While attempting to moor at Lakehurst, the airship suddenly burst into flames, probably after a spark ignited its hydrogen core. Rapidly falling 200 feet to the ground, the hull of the airship incinerated within seconds. Thirteen passengers, 21 crewmen, and 1 civilian member of the ground crew lost their lives, and most of the survivors suffered substantial injuries.

George Hardie was born in 1944. while attending the Royal College of Art Hardie was recommended for the Lead Zeppelin album cover by his friend, photographer Stephen Goldblatt. After rejecting some of his ideas Jimmy Page suggested re-working the picture of the Hindenburg disaster which worked with how the band forming going down like a lead balloon. Hardie set to work on the idea, using a technique called Stippling. Stippling means to use dots or marks to create an image, a build up of this in the right way could create shadows or lines and end up creating an image this could be done using different methods but traditionally and on this occasion Hardie used his radiograph pen. Mr Hardie added: 'I think the drawing made a good and memorable cover, but this was more to do with the photograph and Jimmy Page's choice of it than with my skill as a dotter.'  George Hardie was payed £60 for his work which he said he was happy about and thought the album cover was "good and memorable"

(example of stippling )

Along with Led Zeppelin's album, George Hardie would go on to create some of the most recognisable album covers in music history with Pink Floyds Dark Side of the Moon and Black Sabbaths Technical Ecstasy.

I thought it was be good to add some information regarding the album typeface but looking online it I could not find a definitive answer. one website I found believes that the typeface used for the album was a modified Futura extra bold. This was down to an emphasis on the sharp points of the 'Z' but as the great thing with typeface there are other websites that disagree with this but sadly there is nothing that is 100% but the typeface was not meant to be the stand out feature of this album it was meant to be the picture tat made such an impact.

[shedaresthedevil]

This is the ache that says "You do not want him"

Pairing; Matt Murdock X NB! ReaderOC

18+ MINORS DNI!!!!

Warnings : SMUT. sexual tension filled fight sequences, mutual pining, two idiots in love but they wont admit it, mentions of male and female anatomy, afab! Reader, choking, violence, sprinkle of angst

HOLY shit you guys I'm back! I've been in a writing slump and I think I'm finally out of it with this 8,861 word pure h o r n y jail fantasy. Thank you to everyone who contributed to the "what is the thing you find most attractive about Matt " post! I was able to incorporate everything. I really wanted you all to be involved because I could not have done any of this without you. Ironically, I reached 200 followers the other day, and this is the 100 follower special. I already know what I'm doing for 200, and 300 when we get there. Until then, I have quite a few fics on deck for you to enjoy.

As usual, I will be continuing to edit even after posting. So if you see a mistake, no you didn’t.

Tell me your favorite line? Please?

@matt-erialgirl  @freshabogados  @loki-silver-tongued-god  @e-dubbc11 @lexlovescoffee  @pleasedin  @candyello  @carisi-sonny  @sobachka-korol  @1800-fight-me  @mydeerprongsie1960  @alrighty-matty @hellskitchenswhore @hellskitchens-whore @reborn-rekall @alidafirtup @moonlarking @saintmurd0ck @last-honey @xbamboowishesx @mindidjarin @skvatnavle @bunnywritesmarvel @mccnknightstcrdst @fluffyprettykitty @aramora

  "Again." You panted, rolling on to your feet to stand.

Matt circled you, his signature smirk resting on his lips.

"You sure? You don't have to get it perfectly today."

"Says you. Don't you know I have to do everything correctly or I'm a failure and I'm never doing it again?"

Matthew laughed quietly, shaking his head.

"That's entirely untrue, sweetheart."

"Yeah, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you Matt?"

Your tone was dripping in playful sarcasm, and you were glad the two of you were on the same page. You kept each other in check, pushing each other when necessary. You tossed his nightstick back to him and he caught it with ease,even with his back turned to you.

The other night you had been unable to escape a hold, your neck still bruised from the piece of pipe that had been held against you. You were in the middle of fighting two other people when a third had come behind you, stealing your breath as the metal was forced against your throat with monstrous strength. You had kept the other two at bay with your feet for as long as you could.Your hands had become useless as the oxygen was deprived from your body, even as you tried to claw the pipe away. Your mind was overwhelmed with the fact that there was no air. You could not think of how to escape; there was only the fight to breathe. You had almost passed out, your vision slowly decreasing and getting darker by the second.

And then there was Matt, moving towards you, the full confidence of the Devil exuded in his gait. You would almost call it a strut, given the power in his approach. He commanded the space, almost in the same way as he would in the courtroom. But instead of a quiet storm that waited to strike, this was one that raged, one that roared with no question of if it would come raining down, but when. If you hadn't been struggling to breathe already, you might have even been flustered by it. Within seconds, Matt had freed you, pushing your assailant backwards and out of range from you. You fell to the concrete, straining for air as you turned to see how it would go down.

“I am not afraid to hurt you.”  You heard him threaten, voice low and dangerous.

A shiver ran down your spine, contrasting with the burn in your lungs.

Matthew was an incredible fighter, and you would be lying if you said it didn't excite you.

He was fearless, borderline vicious in his desire to protect the city and apparently, you. You heard bones crack against his fist, and finally, the last man fell. Matt rolled his shoulders, and you found yourself staring at them, broad and strong.

You had made your way to your feet, leaning with your hands on your knees while you fought to catch your breath.

"You should really watch your back, sweetheart." He had teased, head tilting as his tongue slid out to lick his lips.

You looked up at him, exasperated by his comment.

You held up a finger, and he laughed.

"When I regain the ability to breathe," you rasped, "I'm going to take that mask off your face and choke you with it. "

Matt simply shook his head, smiling all the while. The pair of you had left, leaping from rooftop to rooftop to avoid being seen. The adrenaline had worn off by the time you were almost back at Matt's apartment, and the pain of the asphyxiation had sunk in. You ripped off your hood and face shield, settling down on the couch. Your throat still burned,but otherwise you were intact, save for a few cuts and bruises. Stripping off your hoodie, you tossed it to the chair, leaving you in your binder and undershirt.

Matthew had already walked to the bathroom to gather the medical kit you had insisted you two put together. He could smell the coppery tang of blood from both himself and you, as well as the sweat that coated your skin and… salt. You were crying, but he wasn't sure what for. Matthew had found it was better to let you tell him on your own why, rather than asking. He re-entered the living room, and you leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees. The black paint you hid your eyes with was smeared across your palms from you wiping it away.

"Here, try this." Matthew offered, handing you a wet washcloth.

You took it with gratitude, wiping your face and hands off as best you could. You would need something stronger to get it all off, but it would be sufficient for now. You set the cloth down, looking toward Matt, who had already removed his mask to wipe away  his own sweat and blood. Flipping open the box, you reached for an alcohol swab for the cut on Matt's face. Standing, you walked to meet him.

"Let me see, Matt."

"You don't have to do that. I can do it myself, I have for years. " He replied, tone coming out harsher than he had intended.

You swallowed, taking a step back.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to make you feel incapable. That wasn't my intention." You apologized, gaze dropping to the floor.

You sounded defeated, and moreover you sounded hurt. Matt raked his fingers through his hair, regretting his response. He knew you had retreated inwardly; you had backed down almost instantly. You never backed down, even when he was in a mood. It was one of the things that he loved the most about you- you challenged him, even if he was certain in his conviction.

"That's not what I meant either. This week has been difficult, but that doesn't mean I should take it out on you. You're only trying to help."

Which was true. They had lost a case in court earlier in the week and Matt had been thrown off since. You felt more in the way than helpful this week, and that sense of worthlessness had begun to take its toll on you.

Your brow furrowed, and your lips twitched from side to side. You started to reach up toward his wound again, but Matt stopped you, taking hold of your wrist gently.

"I'm sorry. You're upset."

"I'm not upset, Matt." you countered, swiping against the blood that still stained his face.

Lie.

"Please don't lie to me. Talk to me."

You shook your head, biting your lip as you fought the burn in your eyes. Crying was your body's first reaction to you being frustrated, and you loathed it.

"I'm not upset. I'm frustrated." You finally admitted, placing a bandage across his cheek.

Matt could practically hear the thoughts of self doubt rolling around in your brain. You were so hard on yourself, and he could recognize it easily; he was the exact same way.

"Is it because you got caught off guard? I've had that happen before, it's not as rare as you think it is ."

You scoffed, warm tears falling down your face without your permission as you continued to clean Matt up.

"Yeah, but the difference is that you got out of it. Even with everything I know, I still couldn't escape it. I couldn't even think of how to get away, I was so focused on trying to breathe. My brain stopped. I just…"

You trailed off as you felt Matt's fingers graze lightly across your cheek, taking your tears with them.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

Matt's tone was soft, empathetic, the facade of arrogance falling away.

"I hate feeling like a burden. The last thing I want is to be an extra person that you have to protect or look after. I should be able to hold my own and not have to wait for you to come and help me all the time."

Ah. There it was.

"Stop. Come here." he said, drawing you into his embrace.

"This week has been shit for both of us. You are not a burden or an inconvenience. You've saved my skin more times than I can count, I'm just returning the favor, okay?"

You inhaled against his chest, the scent of black oak and amber soothing to your anxiety ridden body.

"Okay." You mumbled, stepping out of Matthews arms.

Your mouth twitched again, a telling sign that something else was bothering you. Your breathing also changed in pattern.

"I know you need to say something else."

"I just hate that I cry so much. Really makes me seem like I get overwhelmed too easily." You groaned, running your fingers through your hair.

Matt gave a low laugh, moving to clean your wounds in reciprocation.

"No, it just means you feel things very deeply, " he began, cleaning a split in your lip, "I do too, and not just because of my senses being heightened. "

You flinched at the sting as Matt wiped your skin. You hissed as he cleaned the gash on your shoulder, feeling particularly sensitive.

"Sorry." He whispered with a small smile, trying to be more gentle in his work.

"I've had worse." You joked, making a motion toward your throat that was already darkened with bruises.

Matt reached out, resting his hand at the base of your neck, fingers brushing against your pulse point.

"I'm sorry I wasn't faster." He whispered, hearing the soft tissue shift and your windpipe rasp as you breathed.

You reached for the side of Matt's neck, mirroring his actions, touching the hand that was on you with the other.

"You feel that? I know you can hear it, but do you feel it?"

Matthew nodded, tongue sneaking out over his bottom lip as he swallowed.

"I'm here. I'm whole, and so are you. We have each other, Matty. I'm not going anywhere."

A small, but genuine smile appeared on Matt's face as the two of you stood there, grounding each other. You were definitely in his corner, the past three months had proven as much, but it was more than that.

 He could never tell you how terrified he was to lose you; that wasn't what you wanted.  He couldn't tell you what you meant to him beyond what already was, even if your touch made him ache for you. Matt could not tell you that he wanted to be intimate with you, on more than a physical level. You were always there for him after everything, whether it was emotionally or to tend to his wounds. You embraced him exactly as he was, both as Matthew and as The Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

"Could you…. Could you teach me? How you get out of a hold like that?"

The smile quickly turned into a smirk.

"I thought you'd never ask."

And now here you were, in your basement learning to get out of holds and to improve your disarming skills. The hold against your throat you had gotten pretty quickly, but the disarming technique you and Matt were currently working on was taking you some time. You had run through it about a dozen times now, and you still were not getting it right.

"C'mon, again." You repeated, readying your hands.

"You really want to get hit again? I'm starting to feel bad."

It was true, your ribs ached from being struck repeatedly with his nightstick, but you were determined to get it, at least once. Matt scrutinized your stance, head tilting to the side.

"Wait. Your hands are too high. I think that's the problem."

You dropped your hands, unsure of where exactly you should put them. Matt shook his head, coming to stand behind you.

"May I?"

You agreed, and Matt took a hold of your hands to reposition your arms where they needed to be, bending slightly to do so. You tried not to think about how his hands felt on your skin, the light calluses creating a pleasurable friction.

"You're trying to compensate for my height, but I'm striking in a downward arc like someone who would try and hit you would. There."  He explained, finally satisfied with your arm placement. His hands dropped to your hips, feeling the lack of tension in them.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me. Just like that.”

Matt's voice was low and directly next to your ear. You suppressed a tremble as he withdrew, returning to his place across from you.

"Ready? We'll go step step by step again."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. Matt swung, and the stick came towards you with a blinding speed. Your forearm connected with the center, holding it at bay. You withheld the cry of triumph in your throat.

"Excellent. Let's do it again and then we'll move on to the next part."

Matthew reset his position, as did you. He swung once more, and you blocked it again, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You dropped your hand down, grasping the baton tightly.

"What's next?" Matt encouraged, a grin of his own trying to form.

"My other hand comes over to push the nightstick up and away , and I grab your arm. I use the hand that's on the baton to take it from you as I push your arm down and twist away."

"Alright let's see it then- well, as well as I can see anything."

You groaned, shaking your head as you reset to try it all together. You ran through it slowly, making sure you had the motion down.

"Can we try it at your real speed now? I know you've been holding back even when you "weren't."." You asked, hoping Matt would say yes.

Getting it in a slow, practiced motion was one thing. Getting it at the speed of the Devil? That was another matter entirely. Matthew sighed.

"If you think you're ready. I promise I won't hold out on you."

"I am. Show me what you've got, devilish man." You prodded, rolling your shoulders back.

Matt raised his eyebrows, and then struck without warning. You blocked, then took hold of the wood, using it as a fulcrum as your other hand came to grab Matthew's arm, twisting away with the nightstick in hand. Matt advanced, coming behind you. You turned quickly,  down swinging the baton to protect yourself as you did so. You felt it connect with his hip, quickly raising it again to deflect the blow that was headed towards your face.

The two of you panted hard, Matt's signature smirk gracing his features.

"Good girl."

And the alarm that settled on Matt's face wiped away the look of satisfaction that had been there only seconds before.  He heard your heart rate tick upward at the praise, but he assumed it was because he had used a feminine term. You felt something, but it wasn't anger. You felt it stir low in your body, tendrils of mild arousal climbing up your skin.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean-"

Matt felt his face heat and a light laugh left your lips. It was a rarity to see him flustered, but you didn't exploit it. Not when he was genuinely concerned that he had upset you.

"Matt, it's okay. I use she/they, remember?"

Matt swallowed, still completely thrown off by his mistake.

"Is that okay, though?"

You simply shook your head, placing your hand on his arm to reassure him.

"I identified as female for Twenty-three years of my life, and sometimes I still feel that way. Traditionally feminine compliments and words do not bother me, okay?"

Matt nodded, asking if you were ready to move on to sparring. You always ended training with a hand to hand match, seeing who would last the longest and make the other submit first. You tossed the stick aside off the mats you had laid down on the floor. You began to circle each other, waiting each other out to see who would strike first.

"You're going to make me pay for all the times I hit you in the ribs, aren't you?" Matt said playfully, focusing on your mouth as your lips slid into a smirk.

He quickly focused elsewhere, as the thought of how your mouth would feel against his entered his mind. Your presence was…distracting today, but that would not deter him from making you give in.

"I feel like you would be offended if I didn't."you quipped.

Your eyes locked in on his bare shoulder, the black fabric of his tank top clinging to his soaked body. You shook your head once more, trying to anchor your attention somewhere else.

"You know me so well." He replied, leaning out of the way of your strike.

His eyebrows raised, head tilting in amusement and expectance.  He continued his prowling; that was truly the only way you could describe it- a hunter and his prey.

"Interesting. " He mused, rolling his shoulders back.

Matt was sizing you up, trying to anticipate your next move. He was excellent at reading you… most of the time. The scent of your sweat blending with the perfumed oil on your skin was enticing and he ached to intertwine it with his own. Matt was ripped from the thought of how he would do exactly  that when your fist connected with his ribs, and then his jaw.

You shook your hand out, bones aching at the impact.

"You were saying?" You quipped, watching as he wiped the blood off his face from where he had bitten his cheek.

You found yourself biting your own lip for only a moment at the sight of the deep, dark red staining Matthews mouth.

"Aw, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your hand?" He teased, moving to retaliate.

Matt's leg was headed straight for you, and you barely had time to evade it.

"Shut up, Matt." you shot back, matching his playful tone.

"Why don't you come and make me, sweetheart?" Matt urged, brows raising as if to say “come and get me”.

You were both annoyed and entranced by his confidence, and you aimed to wipe the smirk right off his mouth. Unfortunately for you, your plan did not go as intended. Matt took a hold of your wrist, his opposite arm wrapping around your back as he sent you around his body. You landed on your feet, and Matt still held you in his grasp. You were low, almost as if you were being dipped during a waltz. Training with Matt often felt like a dance; it was fluid, seemingly effortless when you had the right partner. Thrashing in his grasp, he pulled you back up and you were now inches from his face. Matt smiled once again, knowing how frustrated he could make you.  You moved against him and he let out a light laugh.

“I thought you were going to make me be quiet.”

Your free arm had come to rest around his neck, and you decided to take advantage of that. Your hand found its way up the back of his head, Matt's soft hair gliding in between your fingers.  You swore heard Matt hum low in his throat, almost like he was purring at the feeling. The sound of pleasure turned quickly into a deep, thrumming growl as you pulled, showing your teeth as you moved even closer to his face.

"Who said I still won't, Counselor?" You whispered, a wicked grin forming across your lips.

It was distraction enough for you to break his hold on your arm and shove him away, and you twisted to the ground, falling into a crouch. Your hair had come undone and now fell in loose waves at your shoulder. You tossed it back as you stood, pulse racing as the thrill of the fight began to sink in.

Matt’s head tilted, lips sliding into a smirk once again, taunting you.

“So we’re fighting like that today, huh sweetheart?”

You laughed, amused at his reply.

“What is it you always say? ‘Win by whatever means necessary’ ?”

“Exactly.”

Matt struck out, and you whirled to block. At the last moment he dropped to his knees, gliding across the floor and grabbing your ankles to pull you down. You rotated as you fell, landing on the mat with a solid thump. The air was knocked out of you, but you wasted no time trying to roll over.

You were not fast enough to escape the Devil.

The moment you were on your back Matt was hovering above you, pinning you with his hands, strong thighs bracketing your hips and holding you in place. You moved underneath him, struggling to free yourself, groaning quietly as you did so. You hated feeling trapped, and hated losing even more.As you worked against his hold, you realized his grip was not as tight as it you thought it was. You did not want to give him the pleasure of having you concede, so you formulated an exit stratedgy.

 Matt had to hold it together as he heard you borderline moan while you writhed beneath him. He was grateful that you could not detect changes in scent like he could. Matt could scent the arousal coming from himself and you, but he also knew that it was a natural reaction to adrenaline and stress on your body.

“I win.” he proclaimed, satisfied with himself.

You arched your back upwards, coming back down with a cry of exasperation, your inability to escape purely performance.

You shook your head.

“You’re hurting my feelings, Matthew.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, but by the time he realized what you were doing it was too late. Your legs wrapped around his and thrust him to the side, yanking your hands out of his hold to shove his chest away simultaneously. You had flipped him successfully, parallel to the exact position you had just been in, your hold on his legs more secure. You leaned down, hair brushing lightly against his cheek as you spoke.

“Those aren’t the rules we agreed on. It’s not whoever pins the other first, it’s whoever submits first. I never submitted to you, and therefore you do not win.”

Between you being on top of him, the scent of sweat mixed with your pheromones and the oil on your skin, Matt could barely think, barely breathe.

“Well, are you admitting defeat or are we going to drag this out?”

“Not a chance.” he shot back, a fierce defiance lacing his voice.

Matt used his body weight to push upward, driving you backwards and pinning you back to the floor. Your hands were still free, and your right slipped down to your boot, reaching for the karambit blade that was wedged between your leg and the leather. You gripped the acrylic sheath, choking back up to the handle once it was in your grasp. You brought the covered blade up to Matt’s throat at the same time as he brought the one from your left leg to yours.

“You have two of these, remember?” he chuckled, breathing hard.

Your mind raced; currently you were grid locked, each with a knife to the throat. The pair of you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. Matthew pinning you down certainly was not helping, as your mind drifted momentarily to you being pinned down in a different circumstance. Matt must have grabbed it when he turned the tables, and you scolded yourself for not expecting it. The only way you could secure victory now was to completely take him down, make it so he could not move. You had to work quickly if you wanted to be efficient in your scheme. The curve of your knife angled underneath his, shifting upward to pry the karambit from his hand. The blade clattered against the floor as it landed across the room. Your legs were still locked together; Matthew had no choice but to move with you as you rolled sideways.

Matthew gasped as he felt the shift in position, your speed surprising even with how exhausted you were. Your arms hooked underneath his own, one hand pressing against the back of his neck, the other crossing to the opposite shoulder. He swore he felt his hip bones  bend, yielding under the pressure of your thighs as you forced your legs in underneath his to immobilize him. Matt heard you laugh softly against the hollow of his neck where your head rested to protect your face as he struggled, trying desperately to find an out. There was no way for him to get you off of him without intentionally hurting you, which was not the point of the training exercise.

You felt the heat that had risen up earlier from his praise return as he groaned in frustration. You hoped the amount of sweat would cover the scent of your body’s reaction to the sound. Fighting with Matt just did something to you, and hearing men make any kind of noise resembling a sound of pleasure had always turned you to liquid internally. Finally, after several minutes of fighting against your grasp, you felt Matt’s hand tap your shoulder blade three times.

“What happened to not a chance, Counselor?”

"Fuck you." He replied, laughing through every syllable.

"Fuck me yourself coward."

It was reflexive at this point with the both of you; provoking each other was second nature.

Matt suppressed another tremor as he felt your breath on his neck, the softness of your lips brushing against him. God, you were so close, skin to skin in some places. He wanted you, and contemplated telling you for only a moment. Matt wanted you physically, that was true, but he wanted you on an emotional level as well. You were the first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing on Matt’s mind before he went to sleep, which more often than not these days was with you, be it in his bed or yours. Each other’s presence brought relief, and he found solace and comfort with you. But if you wanted him in return, you would have told him before now. He did not take you for a person to mislead him, and you had shown no indication that you wanted anything more than his companionship. So it would have to stay that way.

“I know when I’m beaten, sweetheart.”

“Say it.”

Matt knew what you wanted. He decided to rile you some more.

“Isn’t me tapping out more than enough?”

You scoffed against his skin.

“Absolutely not. And I am not releasing you until you submit fully.”

He liked the sound of that, but the level of submission he thought of was in a completely different context. Matthew felt your grip tighten even more in emphasis, as if to say that you had no problem waiting. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Fine. I submit. You win.”

Your hold loosened and you pulled away slightly, meeting his blank stare.

“See? That wasn't so hard. You’ve won the past two times, let me have this.”

He just couldn’t help himself, taking the small edge of advantage he had now that your guard was down. Matt flipped you both, hovering above you again, leaving your hands free.

“No, I don’t see, actually.” Matt teased, a smug smile on his face.

“You still tapped out. I still won.” you huffed, frowning beneath him.

“I don’t recall doing that.”

“Oh, so you getting frustrated because I had you pinned down thirty seconds ago didn’t happen?”

“Are you calling a blind man a liar?” he replied, feigning offense.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, gripping onto the damp fabric of his tank top and turning the tide once again.

“I would never.” you said, sitting up to stand, offering your hand to help him up.

Matt’s grasp on your hand made you wince. His brows rose, stepping closer and softening his grip.

Concern was evident in his tone as he asked if you were alright.

“Yeah I think so, I think you just grabbed my bones too hard.” you joked, moving to unwrap them.

You had shaken out your hand after connecting with his face earlier, and had winced even though he hadn’t squeezed that hard.

“Stop,” he requested, head tilting to hear better, “Flex your fingers, I want to see if I’m right.”

You did as he asked after Matt took your hand, and sure enough he heard the slight creak of the bones in your hand.

“Your wraps are too tight. Make them a little looser next time.” he advised, unwrapping the moon phase patterned fabric from your hands.

Mathew took it upon himself to massage your hand, moving your fingers in circular motions to loosen them up. He moved on to the next one, unwinding the fabric.

“You don’t have to do that, Matt. I would have survived with aching hands. I've done worse.”

 Matt chuckled, dark hair falling in his face from the downward angle of his head. His laugh always made you smile, even when you didn’t feel like it.

“I wanted to. Besides, I can't have my partner in pain when we need to go out later tonight.”

Partner. Not ‘partner in crime’ as you teasingly called each other, just partner. Your chest tightened  as you looked up at him. Matt felt your eyes on him, and he tilted his head upward to meet your gaze as best he could. His eyes were so beautiful and warm, and you wanted them on you always. You realized you were staring, and swallowed, taking your hand back gently.

“I should um, I should take you home.” you said, breaking the silence.

Matt grinned weakly, nodding in agreement that it was time for him to go.

“You’re tired, I’ll take a cab. You worked really hard today, you deserve to rest before your session with your client.”

“Matt, it’s twenty minutes, I don’t mind.” you protested, zipping up your hoodie and heading upstairs.

“That’s twenty minutes of your time, plus ten minutes of traffic, plus thirty back. That’s an entire hour. Go relax and cool off before you have to throw yourself into work on your day off.”  he countered, grabbing his jacket from the kitchen chair he had hung it on upon his arrival.

Matthew was right, you supposed. You had taken a client on a saturday as a virtual reschedule, which you usually did not do. But this particular client was fragile, and always on time. You did not have it in you to say no, not when you had made so much progress the previous week.

“If you’re sure...” you conceded, following him to the front door.

“I am. I’ll see you later, for… work part two.” Matt reassured you, sliding his glasses on and calling for a cab once he was out the door.

You followed him out to the porch, sitting beside him on the swing while he waited. The early morning light made the strands of auburn in his hair shine, and you wanted to run your fingers through it, just to touch him. That was a level of intimacy that you saved for after vigilante activities; for in the dark after you patched each other up and needed to be sure you were both still whole. So you settled for leaning your head against his bare shoulder instead.

Matt leaned back, letting  the slight breeze of early fall move through him, eyes sliding shut.

And then it was there again.

Sandalwood, patchouli, and orchids.

The wind had made your scent travel, and Matt could practically taste you. Your scent drove him insane, but also made him sad if he thought about it too much. Orchids had been Elektra’s favorite flower, and you reminded Matt of her in so many ways, but you differed in many more.. One of his favorite things about you was that you were  different from her.  You shared the same ferocity, the same passion and determination, yes, but you knew where to stop. You knew when enough was enough and never pushed him too far. You were unfathomably kind, even with everything that had happened to you. You never lied to him, and even when it was an accidental deception, you took accountability for it. Matt wasn’t even fully aware of the scope of your trauma, but he had connected quite a few dots.  There were still some things you could not tell him; you weren’t ready.

You felt Matt shift beside you, and you looked up at him, seeing the conflicted expression on his face. You didn't need to be able to hear his heart to know something was wrong.

"Is everything okay? I didn't hurt you did I?"

Matt released a light laugh, shaking his head.

"No, I'm okay. I promise. I'm just…thinking."

About Elektra.

You finished the thought in your head, not wanting to press the issue.

"Orchids were her favorite, and your perfume oil smells like orchids."

Oh.

He had never told you that, never said anything.

You softened instantly.

"I'm… I can change it to something else from here out if it makes you upset."

You had plenty of scents to choose from, but this combination went the best with your natural body chemistry.

"No, I don't want you to do that. It helps me find you when we get separated. It's cathartic  in a way. You couldn't have possibly known that those were her favorite, but yet it still ended up being the one you chose. It's like she's telling me that you're supposed to be in my life. Like she's still here somehow.

You smiled gently, relieved that the scent was more than just a sorrowful reminder.

"I'm sorry, that sounded really dumb."

You shook your head, reaching out and intertwining your fingers, giving Matt's hand a light squeeze.

Matt immediately eased at your touch, visibly relaxing in his expression.

"If you feel it, it's not dumb. Aren't you always saying that to me?"

He supposed that was true; it would be hypocritical of him not to take his own advice.

"Thank you." He said suddenly.

"For what?"

"For always understanding. It's far more than I deserve."

"I don't believe that for a second. You deserve the world Matt. What you do for this city, what you risk every day, it's beyond measure." You replied, voice breaking from the friction on your vocal chords.

Matthew could hear the slight rasp in your voice, the almost imperceptible strain in your breathing. He knew you were still bruised from the other night. 

“Does it,” he swallowed, changing the subject, “does it still hurt?”

Matthew looked down at you, reaching for your throat, not thinking of what he was doing. You turned in answer, your forehead touching lightly against his as you felt his fingers caress the damaged skin.

“No, It doesn’t, not really…” you whispered, hyper aware of the immediate proximity of Matt to you. His fingers were warm and soothed the ache from the deeply bruised flesh. How you functioned around him was beyond you; Matthew made you…nervous being this close.

Not quite a lie, but not entirely true.

“It’s only been two days. I can hear how much strain it puts on you just to breathe.” he whispered back, noting that if he moved even the smallest amount, your lips would meet.

You seemed to pick up on that detail as well, pulling away just enough to match eyes with him. His hand slid up the side of your neck, fingers brushing the back of your jaw.

“It does hurt, Matt. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” you swallowed, trying to hide the wince that followed.

In truth, you had been hurt far worse between the vigilantism in the night with Matt and rehabilitating horses, but this was a dull ache compared to the emotional pain you had endured in your life. At least this pain would eventually fade, and you knew that with certainty.

Matt looked blankly at you, knowing full well that you were down playing your pain. Most likely it was to try and spare him some guilt over not being able to get to you quickly enough to prevent it. Your heart was racing, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. What he could make of your expression was a face he’d recognized on you many times. You were thinking, and thinking intensely- you always were, but this was different somehow. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wanted to know where you went when you went that deep into your head. Matt still hadn’t moved his hand, and you still hadn’t moved further away. 

“Yes?” you said, unsure of what to make of the way he said your name.

Matthew shifted slightly. He had said your name aloud, not just in his head like he thought he had. Maybe he should simply tell you, and you could move from there. Saying it, confessing it, might relieve the vast amount of tension he felt. It was becoming more and more difficult to be near you, even in a casual setting.

“I need to tell you-”

You both jumped at the horn from the taxi that pulled up to your home. The passenger window rolled down, and the driver asked if one of you was Matthew. He stood, picking up his jacket and cane and you stood to hug him goodbye. Matt breathed you in quietly, eyes rolling back from the aromatics of your body.

“What did you need to tell me?” you asked, pulling away.

Matt took the timing of the taxi as a sign. He let out a nervous laugh as he descended the stairs.

“I can't even remember. Must not have been important then. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Your brow furrowed momentarily, perplexed. It had sounded important by his tone, but given that Mathew’s memory was impeccable most of the time, it must not have been for him to have forgotten that quickly. You nodded, the sarcastic remark falling swiftly from your mouth.

“Will you see me later, counselor?”

Matt shook his head, ducking into the back seat and instructing the driver where to go. You waved goodbye as the car pulled away, turning to go back inside.

The ride back to Matt’s apartment felt over too quickly, even with the fifteen extra minutes of traffic. You had been exceptional today, so stubborn to get it right, so headstrong in your efforts to win against him. Your scent was still on him; in his hair, on his hands, on his clothes- you were everywhere. Usually, he could compose himself when he put some distance between the two of you. Your scent would fade and he could concentrate again, but today it was more intense than normal. He supposed it was because you had been training for four hours instead of your usual two because you had been persistent. You did not want to quit today, full of vicious determination, and God it made Matt want you.

Matt paid the driver, gathering his belongings and stepping out onto the pavement.  He made the trek up the stairs , wanting nothing more than to rest for a few hours until it was time to go out for the evening. Matt turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open as he heard the bolt slide. He sighed as he set his cane against the doorframe, placing his glasses on the table by the door. Matt tossed his jacket to the chair across from the couch and went to the kitchen to get water. Filling the glass, he downed it, and another and then another. Moving to his bedroom, he removed  his shoes,  and his tank top followed shortly after. He was simply too hot, that’s all it was. Matthew made his way back to the couch, hearing the soft sound of fabric hitting the floor. He turned, moving to pick up his jacket from the floor. And then he found it.

Your shirt.

That was why he couldn’t escape you. Matt felt the fabric in his hands, ran his fingers over the soft material. It must have been on the back of the chair he had draped his jacket on at your house. Placing the shirt on top of his hoodie, Matt took a seat onto the cool leather. It practically felt like ice against his bare back, and he savored the feeling. His repose lasted only moments as your scent once again ensnared him, making his mind go hazy as he looked toward the arm chair where your shirt was. Arousal stirred low in his body, and his fingers gripped the leather cushion, fighting against the growing length against the fabric of his pants.

Matt groaned, letting his head fall backwards, squeezing his eyes shut. He had to think of anything else except you, but that was difficult when he could not get away from you. Even though you weren’t there, he ached for you, grateful he had kept himself under control while the two of you were sparring.

Matt kept trying to send his mind elsewhere, but between the way the smell of the shirt affected him and the strain of his cock he was done for. He was going to hell anyway, so what did it matter?

He thought about just before he had submitted to you, the entanglement of limbs, the weight of your body on his. The way you had as good as moaned as you writhed underneath him, trying to free yourself from his hold.  Matthew’s hand traveled below the waist of his sweats, hand grasping around himself, stroking lightly.

Matt wondered what you would be like, in terms of sexual preference. Would you become soft, malleable;  A stark contrast to your personality? Would you yield to him, let him do anything he wanted?

His grip tightened, slowing down even more as he contemplated the idea. You being submissive to him was an alluring thought. But what if your taste was…the opposite and it matched your personality? What if you were as aggressive there as you had been an hour ago when you made him submit to you?

Matthew wasn’t sure which thought excited him more and he groaned at both possibilities.

He then pondered what you would sound like. He had a vague idea, based solely on the noises you made when you were in pain or when he pinned you, and he swore up and down that you did it on purpose, just to torture him. But what would you sound like in that setting? Would you be loud and direct with what you want or would you be quieter until you reached your climax? Matt began to stroke faster, setting his legs wider. What sound would you make as he spread your legs and slid inside you? His tongue parted his lips, lost in contemplation. Matthew ventured to let his mind wander to what you would taste like.

This was wrong, so incredibly wrong but he just couldn’t stop. He would get on his knees and confess his sins between your thighs if you gave him the chance, each orgasm he would give you his penance for his trespasses. Matt would give you as many as you wanted, as many as you could take and would do it gladly, just because he knew he could. He would be far different from anyone else who had you before; Matt would be able to read your body better because of his heightened senses, and he felt a tinge of satisfaction at the thought. He would pull every beautiful, sinful sound that he could from you until you begged him to stop.

Matthew felt the heat begin to coil within him as a deeper, darker thought crossed his mind; the way your throat felt under his hand today, and every other time he touched you. He wanted the frisson of excitement to trail across your body as his hands would explore you, feel your pulse race under the pressure of his hand around your neck. 

Close. He was so close.

The mere instance of you being atop him today had almost made him lose it, right then and there. The weight of your body on his hips was so inviting, and he envisioned it there now, with one exception.

He imagined you on top of him, riding him with his cock buried inside you, nails digging into his shoulders as you grew closer to the edge. What you would feel like between his teeth as he breathed you in. You would be warm, and wrapped around him so tightly from that position. He would be able to watch you as you fell apart on top of him, his fingers between your legs as you would rise and fall.  He’d be right behind you, spilling into you and rutting upwards, even though you were both overstimulated.

Matt finished with a ragged moan at the thought of you whimpering, with him still sheathed inside you, too overwhelmed to even form words. He flowed onto his hand, over his fingers, hips jerking in aftershock. His chest heaved, sweat was running down his back. Matt stood, heading to wash his hands, flopping into his bed soon after. He breathed deeply, running his hand through his hair. He felt somewhat better, but also worse. He would have to tell you or you would never know. Know how much he wanted you, how much you meant to him… how much he loved you.

⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸⚸

You had flopped down in your bed almost immediately after showering, towel open beneath you. You had set the water to nearly scalding to soothe your sore body and you were cooling down. Matt had been very…. tactile this morning. It seemed like he took every opportunity that presented itself to touch you, trying to distract you and throw you off later. Or maybe he just wanted to touch you. You were both lonely and starved for touch, and the pair of you snuggling down on the couch while you read to him or described a movie for him wasn’t unheard of. You had both slept in the same bed more than once and woken up with an arm wrapped around each other or a hand reaching towards the other. You were almost always touching each other in some way, whether it was in a comforting way or if it was to tend to each other's wounds in the late night hours.

You contemplated some more, concluding that he had, in fact , been trying to throw you off. Matthew may be blind, but he wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He was exceedingly, and unfairly attractive and he knew it. The way he smirked and tilted his head so often during your training was a testament to that. While it annoyed you, it was also enticing to look at him. Between his ample lips and that Gods damned dimple? You often found yourself staring at them both, wondering what they would feel like on you, in more places than just your mouth. You pulled a pillow over your head and groaned in frustration. Matt was amazing, but he did not want you, not like that. He was still mourning Elektra, and you were his friend, his partner. You didn’t want to cross that line unless he invited it, didn;t want to push it or misread it. Matt and the Devil were one in the same, a multifaceted duality of a person. Complex and forthright, all at once.

Throwing the pillow back in its place, you couldn't help but think about the events of that morning. The same hands that knew such violence and inflicted pain could be gentle and soothing , like they had been today when he unwrapped your hands and worked magick with his own. The very hands that had gripped your hips, telling you to “Spread your legs a little wider for me. Just like that.” and had made you want to close your legs, want to rub your thighs together for a taste of friction. His voice had been low and demanding in your ear. It was a miracle you hadn’t asked him to touch you out of reflex. When he moaned at you pulling his hair to distract him, had he scented the change in you? The arousal that had made you want him, did he know? Or would he attribute it to your body’s natural reaction to the excitement of sparring and nothing more? The fact that Matthew could hear, taste, smell and feel on a much greater scale than the average human was both irritating and intoxicating. He would know exactly what you wanted, what you needed, without you having to utter a word.

Your hand traveled  upward, towards your throat that Matt had touched earlier. You would gladly have endured the pain it would cause you currently if he were to have applied pressure. You had almost fucking moaned at the contact, but had restrained yourself somehow. Your hand trailed down your skin, wishing it was the lightly calloused hands that had been on your earlier. You shivered at the thought of Matthew touching you like this, like you wanted him to. Would he be taken aback by your scars or turned on by them? You had many, maybe even more than he did.  You knew that the dominance he presented during training and fighting alongside you would most likely translate to the bedroom. If it had not been for your determination to make him submit to you, you would have given in the second he pinned you to the mat. You felt your hips rise slightly as your fingers ghosted over the cradle of your pelvis, moving even lower to the ache between your thighs.

It wouldn’t change anything between you if you thought of him while you touched yourself, so you had no reservations about it as your fingers found your core soaking. You drew small, languid circles around your clit, imagining it was Matt’s hands or better yet, his tongue. He was constantly licking his lips and it was often distracting to watch it glide over his pretty mouth. You wanted both his tongue and his lips on you, wherever he wanted, he could taste you. Imagining the scrape of his stubble against the inside of your leg sent a thrill through you. You could hear his voice in your head again, and you fixated on it, fingers moving a little faster now.

“Good girl. Just like that.”

A breathy, quiet moan escaped your lips at the reminder of his praise.  You felt the heat crawl up your legs- you wouldn’t last long if you kept envisioning what Matt would be like in bed. How he would feel touching you, fingers sliding inside you to tease you until you couldn’t stand it any longer and neither could he. How would he take you? Would he pin you down like earlier with both hands? Or would he hold you in one hand and wrap the other around your throat? You reveled at the thought of just giving yourself over to him and not having to think, only feel. You would let him do anything he wanted, and there wasn’t much you didn't find pleasure in. You would willingly submit to him, as long as that meant he was touching you. You felt the familiar heat twining low in your belly, and you felt your release climbing toward its end. Matt’s voice was burned into your mind, and it wasn’t hard to pretend you could feel the brush of his mouth behind your ear and you chased your orgasm.

“Good girl, cum for me.”

You cried out, eyes shutting hard as you writhed against your sheets. You panted, exhausted. You wanted Matt so desperately, and that alone sobered you. You had never been able to have casual sex or think of anyone casually and get off; you simply could not unless there was an emotional connection. You had been denying it all this time, but this was the final nail in the coffin. He deserved better than you, someone whole. There was so much you still hadn’t told him, had not been ready to tell him.

You were not sure you ever would be able to explain to him the horrors of your past, even though Matthew may very well be the only person to understand how much violence and pain it took to make you as gentle as you were sometimes.

You had told yourself over and over again You do not want him.

That you were just touch starved and lonely, and that he was off limits. You were both still grieving, and that wouldn’t be right.

You rolled over, pulling the covers over you. You had two hours before your virtual client would be on, and you needed some sleep before you ran off into the night with Matt. If that is all you could have, you would still take it over never having him at all.

[s1ater]

break of dawn.

pairings. apocalypse!bellamy blake x fem!reader

about. bellamy and reader share a close moment--just in case it's their last.

warnings. swearing, walking dead x the 100 crossover,

ricky rocks. hate this. didn't know what to do with it. anyways i miss octavia.

the sun was just barely reaching over the mountain tops, allowing a thin layer of light to turn alexandria blue with hope and coldness.

bellamy was up, he had to be up, he had hardly slept. he had in fact just rustled his eyelids closed when the illuminating sun woke him back up to his troubled mind, peaking through his bedroom window, giving light to his face. 

the low sun highlighted his tan features and every detail that wrung along his bones. his freckles, his cheekbones, his jawline, his scars. everything. it all looked so perfect within that moment, so raw and fresh from the shower he had taken the night before. something you loved about the morning, observing him, running your fingers about him, but sadly, you missed that moment. 

bellamy sighed, slowly untangling himself from his sheets and your arms, forcing his feet to hit the cool wooden floor of his room with his forearms leaning against his knees.

everything was just a nightmare.

there was a soft knock that echoed through the practically empty room causing bellamy to turn, his eyes going between you and the door.

you didn’t even stir.

he heard the click of the door, before it slowly opening and raven’s face peaking between the crack. her facial expression looked exhausted, as if she had gotten just as much sleep as bellamy did.

she didn’t entertain any usual amusement nor smile on her face when her eyes met his. she looked dead and it made him frown deeper at the realization that this beginning war was really affecting them all. 

“rise and shine,” she whispered, “we have a day ahead.”

we have a day ahead.

you woke up in a cold bed without bellamy. sheets all scrunched up and pulled down to the foot of the bed on his side, leaving nothing.

it made you panicked, you’re eyes reaching anywhere and everywhere before hitting the window, a light blue peaking past the curtain, making your stomach dip.

the realization of what day it was filled your mind causing a sinking feeling in your head, panic erupting everywhere in your body as you got up quickly and searched for a fresh pair of clothes.

it was a day of war.

you all had been waiting for this day so eagerly, wanting it to be over with, but now, you wished it was days before where you were sitting on the nice living room couch that didn't belong to you, thinking anxious little thoughts about how this day would go about. 

bellamy had told you not to worry. 

he had claim you'd be safe, he’d keep you safe. but not only that, you had another thing going for you. the straight fact that negan wanted you. he wouldn't harm you if he believed you had something he wanted, whatever that would be. 

that was the one thing you had going for you and you couldn't help but be scared even more with the frightful thoughts that ran through your head, patronizing you and filling your brain with what ifs and possibilities. 

“you let me sleep in?” 

bellamy looked over his shoulder to meet your eyes, his lips were pressed into a thin line as he turned away from miller and the rest of the guarding crew, causing them to walk off with his final command. 

his features softened at the sight of you, his hand laying against the crook of your back. he looked sympathetic and tired and old. it was as if the planning of this war had taken away the young boy from his eyes, leaving grey and sorrow. 

“you need it.”

“you more than me.”

“some things need to get done,” he tried hard to suppress the pointed look he was about to give you, his hand still around you lowly. “we’re running out of time.”

“we’ve been out of time for awhile, it’s just now finally catching up to us,” octavia’s hard tone fills your ears as she hauls a large amount of rifles and weapons covered by a thick brown cloth. cuts scraped her face and dark circles outlined the bottom of her eyes, all youth gone just like her brother. "it's time to sharpen up. lexa said he should be here soon."

the both of you looked to her, analyzing the hard stare she had on her face, looking as if she was the one in command--which you wouldn't be completely against. she was ready, she wanted blood.

"did you sleep?"

"what do you think?" her tone was harsh and she doesn't think twice about it even as she noticed the wince on bellamy's face. "this has been the only thing i could think about for the past week..." her eyes hit the ground, her mind going elsewhere as she pauses, slightly shaking her head, "people are going to die and it won't be me, but i fear.." pause, inhale, her head jerks back up and her eyes meet yours.

she doesn't say anything but that seems to be enough.

octavia walks away with an urgency in her step, deciding it'd be best she helped the guard instead of putting the two of you in any more of a troubled mindset. she was like a bomb, she had a lot on her chest, and it had only built up with the more time she had spent with lexa. lexa had filled her head with worries of you and the rest of alexandria.

"she's not in the best state of mind."

"well, none of us are," you mumbled, watching her go, "but i would assume she's in the best. at least better than us."

bellamy didn't watch octavia, he watched you. his heart ached as it felt like someone was twisting it. he wanted reassurance. reassurance to your safety, but it was too late for that and the more the minutes went by the more he regretted not taking lexa's offer on protecting you at hilltop.

it was too late now.

"you shouldn't worry."

he grunted in response, almost scoffing at how ridiculous that statement was.

"we'll figure it out," you look up to him, "i promise, bellamy. we always figure it out, everything always ends up alright."

"until we screw ourselves over once again," he shook his head in sadness despite the sick smile on his face--one that wasn't intentional. he was just so tired.

"hey," your hand reached to the side of his face, "everything will be fine."

"bellamy, we need you," the two of you look to miller who looks anxious, his head jerking toward the front gate and a sudden feeling of grief takes over, fearing the worst that time had finally come.

bellamy seems to move fast as he takes ahold of you tightly with one arm wrapped around your waist while the other was around your neck, "don't worry," his mouth is right by your ear and his voice is too uneasy to make you not worry. "nothings going to touch you. not over my dead body and most likely, not even octavia's."

you laughed a sad laugh as you shook your head underneath his weight. it was finally hitting you that this was the end--the end of something and you couldn't do anything to stop it.

"be safe."

navigation.

[andie-cake]

I beat Waterloo World babeyyyyyyy!!! Here's some more psych of nauts thoughts

This is mostly a really fun level, but that one platforming section where you have to unjam the castle gates? Fuck that nonsense. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for those little cannon guys with obnoxiously accurate aim. I managed to get past the first one once I realized I could use Levitation and Invisibility at the same time, but the second one would just shoot me off the tower from like 100 feet away every time bc Invisibility takes two seasons of a western animated cartoon to recharge. I was only able to kill the stupid little bastard once he accidentally fell off his stupid little bastard tower.

This has nothing to do with the level itself, but Crispin's "kindly back away from my elevator and die" is up there with "Nils kisses girls on the mouth and likes it" and "What a magical lady :)" for my favorite lines in the game. The delivery is hysterical, it's so lowkey and deadpan.

This also has nothing to do with the level, but I recently realized you can make Raz talk with the animals in the hubworlds if you press Y near them. And I fucking love the lines you get if you have him talk to the crows around the asylum, if only because the randomly generated lines chained together in a way that accidentally implied that Raz eats bugs. Two of the lines he can say are along the lines of "yeah, yeah, i get it, bugs are delicious" and "tell me something i don't know", which are definitely supposed to be separate voice lines. But I got them back-to-back, so it sounded like Raz was agreeing with the crows that bugs are, indeed, delicious. Idk I thought it was funny.

Since the crying of the emotional baggage is recorded by the respective VAs of the character whose mind you're in, the baggage usually makes me kinda sad (especially in Brain Tumbler Experiment, hearing the bags crying in Raz's voice is fucking heartbreaking). But it's oddly funny in this level, bc between sobs they'll go "ooough, i don't like that :(". I feel bad for finding it funny, but I can't help it bc like, fuck dude, I feel that.

Next is Black Velvetopia, which I am both very excited about and very scared about. Excited, bc temporary artstyle shift go brrrrrr. Scared, bc I don't remember how you're supposed to get the Confusion Grenades (and I'm 99% certain you don't get them within the level itself like how you get PSI Shield and Clairvoyance), and bc the boss looks kinda jank based on the playthroughs I've watched.

[weebsinstash]

Then I have to wish you good luck again! Congrats on seeing Mom again （╹◡╹)! Also, I have a question: Which is the order of your favorite gods so far?

There are honestly too many gorgeous interesting people in this game but I guess I can share a few opinions lmao

Dionysus is definitely my favorite God besides like Thanatos and Zagreus. He's just got everything, the hair, the body, the voice, he's so casual and talks like a stoner. He could take me out for some strong drinks, make me laugh, and then fuck me so good i go to Elysium afterwards. Also he openly says Theseus is a dick specifically for "ditching" Ariadne after she had helped him, so Dionysus also said Respect Women or Die.

Favorite Goddess is... that's tricky. Nyx is lovely and I actually have had an oc for like years who has the whole star-hair-aesthetic and I've always loved it ❤, I may have taken that from reading the Nyx myth actually... anyways,, shes very fashionable and graceful and wise, but she definitely is much more "inhuman" and ethereal than the other goddesses, so next in line I would actually say Artemis or Athena over Aphrodite. Artemis is relatable and hilarious; I gave her a nectar and she was basically like "ok but this is just as friends alright, time to go back to hunting" like mood girlboss, and Athena is, well, kind of the least petty violent God on all of Olympus, we all really appreciate her aid if it wasn't for her we wouldn't even get help from Olympus, and Aphrodite is gorgeous and I love her but she's also uh pretty dangerous with that emotional heart of hers 😳

In terms of the Gods, Hades and Zeus fit into the DILF category though honestly I always told myself I hypothetically met Zeus I wouldn't go within 100 feet of him in case he looked in my direction and got me pregnant, and Hades is so mean that nothing could happen there, lmao. Hermes is low on the list cause he's kind of just a friendly dude, and Poseidon is kinda uggo ngl and also what he did to Medusa was shitty. I guess my second favorite god besides Dionysus might be... Ares in terms of character design? He's kinda... scary hot 😳

[umccall71]

Decision of a lifetime

Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Characters: king Liam x Lady Sexy

Rating:Mature

Word Count: 1950

Disclaimer: All characters used are sole property of Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them for entertainment purposes.

Summary: Liam x (mc)Sexy knew they were destined for a lifetime together, but his world had other plans. The couple share a fateful night that would forever alter their future. Does fate stand strong together or banish his love to the shadows?

A/N: Sorry but I have been super busy with family situations. Thank you for the patience.💗💗

Catch up here

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@kingliam2009

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It had been a week since the royal wedding and the official queen was resting per doctor’s orders.Liam was taking no chances when it came to his wife and child.He knew that his dream was realized in spite of his father and cohorts trying to end Sexy’s life and his happiness.They were spending the afternoon leisurely lounging in the royal quarters. The doctor had given them a clean bill of health. Both Sexy and the baby were well and out of danger. Liam stood in the doorway watching Sexy in adoration as she laid on the chaise lounger in the sitting area overlooking the garden. “God you are so beautiful,'' he smiled as he gazed at her leaning back gently stroking her growing belly. There seemed to be this sense of peace within her aura. She sported a flowing tunic top that split at the belly , a light pair of 3⁄4 leggings, and bare feet .

“I am in love with that belly love”, Liam chuckled as he locked his baby blue eyes on her now prominent baby bump. Sexy’s visible belly was proudly on display and undeniable at this point. “ your pregnant belly is an official bump!” Liam dropped to his knees aside the chaise lounge and his full lips landed on Sexy’s exposed belly. He closed his eyes and his long fingers traced the curve of her belly and sides. Liam could not stop smiling at the sight of his wife as the sun danced on the golden flex in her hazel eyes. The bronze glow accentuated her soft skin soothingly.

Sexy reached her fingers down and grazed liam's head lovingly. “I love you my king… will you feel the same way when I can barely walk around and see my feet?”, she teased. “I have a question Liam… will you love me when I can no longer see my feet?” Liam paused momentarily before lifting Sexy’s hands to his lips, “ I will enjoy watching every inch of your beautiful body transform as you grow our baby. Do you realize your were already the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, but in light of your pregnancy… your beauty ...your radiant .. is breathtaking Sexy.”, he kissed her hands. Liam's hands slide up, cupping Sexy’s face as he captured her lips in a searing kiss. Sexy felt breathless as liam's tongue tangled with her own. Liam softly massaged her tongue as they both got lost in the exchange of the fiery kiss. “ I cant believe that you are twelve weeks pregnant already. I can’t wait until we meet our little button”, the excitement radiated from his eyes. “Speaking of 12 weeks...and with you being out of the woods… I think we need to discuss how and when we will make the announcement of the heir.”

Sexy looked away briefly as she contemplated his word, his request. “ Liam, I know we will eventually have to let the kingdom in on our blessing… but there will be questions about how far along we are… when did we learn of the pregnancy...why we waited to make the announcement?`` she looked down at her belly as she wrung her hands. “I'm sure they will think you only married me… because I'm pregnant liam”, her eyes well up with unshed tears.Liam ran his thumbs along the outline of her eyes as he wiped away her tears. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “Baby… I don't give a damn about anyone thinking that I married you because of the pregnancy.. We know the truth…”

Sexy cut off his words, “what if I'm one of those people that felt … had there been no baby, there would be marriage..to me at least. Liam I couldn't help but wonder had I not stayed in Cordonia, and you learned I was pregnant, would you have been married to madeline right now. What if I had gotten on that plane and left for New York, not finding out about the baby until much later.” Liam's heart broke . watching the woman he loved recount the darkest time in their relationship. He waited for her to unburden her pain, to know she had been carrying around this doubt. “Liam, i was never supposed to have you... your father made sure of that. I remember the feeling of so many eyes on me as the photo was plastered all over the news, feeling the harsh ,clammy hands of the guards as they removed me from that ballroom… during your moment.To be given an hour to gather my belongings under the watchful eyes of the kings guards, then to be ushered unceremoniously to the airport to be ejected from this country that i came to see as my future home.” Sexy’s breathing became labored as she recounted the night that gave her the greatest gift and the greatest abomination against their love.

“Shh, shh… please don't cry. I am so sorry … that I didn't fight for us soon enough. I regret that I stood by and did nothing as you suffered alone. Sexy just the thought of you spending weeks sick, sleepless night, racked with loneliness thinking that I love another and did not treasure the love we share. I am the man that should have taken our moment … the night of the coronation and chosen you publicly from the beginning to be my queen. After we confessed our love and made love in the maze…. I owed it to us to start our life , especially since I had told you that I wanted a future with you”, he hyperventilated seeing the visible emotional pain she was still reliving.

Sexy pulled back from his embrace, gathering her composure, sitting in silence for a moment, “Liam , I forgave you for your decision back then. I accepted that you didn't feel a profile in courage was in your purview. You did what was expected of you. I love you … that has never changed and never will until the die. I can never forgive your father , and the others that made a choice that I did not only deserve to be your queen, but i did not deserve to live. Had they gotten their way, had I walked a few steps slower… The day that I was to become your queen would have been the day you would be planning my funeral. I am trying so hard to count my blessings that were all okay, but the thought of almost… losing our child before they can even take a first breath.” Sexy shook with anger thinking of the possibility she could have lost her child. She didn't think about losing her life, but the life of their unborn child. “I know you want to make a big splash of an announcement to let the whole of Cordonia know about our baby… the heir. I never want to rob you of sharing such a tremendous gift that should be celebrated among all, but I know that it will become open season on the commoner that trapped a king into marriage after getting herself knocked up out of wedlock.”

“STOP… I will not listen to you berate yourself, talk down about yourself, disrespect the woman that you are. You never trapped me.. You did not get yourself knocked up as you put it. I fell in love with you … the first night I met you. I sought every opportunity to spend time with you. When we were not together, I counted the hours until the next time i was able to steal a moment with you. Sexy… know that when we made love it was one of the happiest days I shared with you. Everything that we shared in the past , and will share each day going forward will be 100% my choice and desire. Sexy I never want you to feel anything but love, and commitment with every iota of my soul. You .are .it for me. Your my every dream and to have that dream personified by a child is that much more fulfilling.”

Liam took Sexy out onto the balcony looking out over his mother’s vision and announced, “ We will announce of baby, because I am proud and I know that you love this little button as much as I do. He or she is nothing to be ashamed of. Just know that I am here with you every step of the way. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you… your wish is my command. The king serves only his queen. For you I will lay it all on the line. We will stand before our people and share with them news that will have them celebrating until you give birth and then on. We can do a one on one interview with Ana DeLuca, or make an announcement before all the press and people.”

Sexy wrapped her arms around liam's mid section and took a deep breath. “ Baby I know now how much we mean to you, so I will stand beside you as your queen and share our little button for the first time. Liam… I need to put all of this behind me. As long as there are loose ends out there that could come after me… i will not rest.” Sexy turned to walk inside to the bed and lay down. He could see the look of exhaustion on her face, she seemed worn out. “Sexy you need your rest… I will take care of this for us. The bastards that did this will pay… including my father. He will pay for the fresh hell he's brought upon us. My duty is to queen and my child.” Liam pulled the cashmere throw across Sexy as he watched her drift off to sleep with tension visible on her forehead. When he finally heard her soft breaths escaping her lips, he walked out to the living area when he heard a knock at the door.

Liam opened the door while gesturing to keep it down, “Bastien… is everything alright?”

“Sir .. I am sorry to disturb you and the queen, but I have news about the attack on your wedding day.”he paused awaiting a confirmation to proceed from his king. Liam acknowledged with a slight nod and curious look. “Go on…”

“Your majesty, the degenerate that carried out the former kings orders was not working alone. We were able to recover some history from the cell phone that was on his person when he was apprehended at the cathedral. We triangulated the ping off the towers and found that he messaged someone within the palace moments after the explosion. King Father was already in the church when the message was sent. The other person that was involved was here at the palace during the attack.He is trying to clam up with his cooperation.”, Bastien stated.

“Get him in an interrogation room asap.. This son of a bitch terrorized my wife on our wedding day. Every.single .person will be tried for treason. We will announce the pregnancy and then we will move forward with the council for formal charges. There will be no mercy…” Liam walked with Bastien to the door and they headed for his study to draw up formal charges to be presented to his council. “Bas… I failed her and it will not happen again. She feels that I didn’t fight for her…for us when it counted the most. It’s time to clean up this corruption for my queen and my child. I never wanted her to feel I am not all in and i will protect her. This. Ends . Tonight.”

[hectorino1]

Day 1: To Hell and Back - The first day of a pelegrino (aka Me)

Now that I have your attention. In reality it wasn't all that hellish. Just a small part of which I am heavily to blame ...but I'll explain ...

PRE CAMINO

It's 4 am, I'm wide awake, and I'm writing in my blog. I've been up since 3 am. A line from a "Heart" song comes to mind which goes 'I hear the ticking of the clock, I'm lying here, the rooms pitch dark'.  I could use a couple more hours of sleep considering that yesterday I spent over 24 hours traveling. And yet, I feel rested. Something tells me I won't be getting any shut eye. I can hear another pelegrino across the hall coughing away. I suspect she isn't getting much sleep either....

Update: At the last minute I may have gotten another hour before my alarm went off at 6 am.

I get up, shower, and pack. At 7:30 am I walk out the door ready to start my first hike...Day 1!

FINALLY...THE HIKE

When I walked out the door, I noticed immediately that it was drizzling lightly. I actually didn't mind as it was relatively warm. It never occurred to me how the drizzle must feel 4000 feet up the mountain.

Shortly after starting on the Camino, I made my way to a fork on the road which offered two choices. Almost how the song goes, I can take the high road or I can take the low road (In my case it's a trail). If I choose the low trail it would take me around a mountain through the flatter, safer route. On the other hand, if I choose the high trail this would take me 4,000 feet up the mountain, with little protection from the elements, over the top of the pyrenees. This trail was the one where Emilio Estevez was caught in a storm and died in the movie "The Way." Did I forget to mention that just yesterday I was told that a bunch of people had to be rescued that day on this trail due to the weather? It was pretty clear which trail I'd be taking.... and so I began making my way up the mountain.

Even with the light drizzle, the view of the valley was spectacular. The rain clouds were so high up they didn't impede views of the valley. The hills and the mountains where lush with tall green grass. Every now and then, I could see gray sheep and white cows grazing. The farm houses, speckled here and there on the hillsides looked so welcoming, some with smoke rising from their chimneys. I was truly enjoying it.  

After a couple hours of hiking in the light drizzle, I reached the last hostel (the last opportunity for rest and shelter for the next ten miles) on the route at Orrison. I didn't think anything of all the drizzle I'd walked through until I walked into thehostel, took off my backpack and my rain coat. As soon as I did that, a chill ran through my body as if somebody had pored ice water on me. My shirt was drenched in water. It appears my water resistant jacket is just that... water-resistant and not "waterproof." This jacket has served me very well on many hikes with some rain and snow (I mean who wants to walk in rain anyways), but I never noticed its Achilles heel (i.e. works great in all conditions but continuous rain).

At the hostel, I immediately took of my shirt and replaced it with a dry fit long sleeve shirt I brought. Still feeling a bit cold, I decided on having a bowl of hot vegetable soup at the hostel before heading out. As I was enjoying my first few sips, Sam came right up and sat next to me.

MY FIRST MEANINGFUL ENCOUNTER WITH A PILGRIM ON THE CAMINO 

Sam is a young man, guessing mid to late twenties, from Liverpool England who is starting his second Camino. To save money he bought a plane ticket to Paris for about 14 dollars and hitch-hiked the rest of the way. Although he was a machine-gun talker, he happened to be very nice and pleasant to be around. He told me a bit of himself and I about myself, and just like his fast talking, he stood up, shook my hand and bolted out the door. Buen Camino Sam!

...CONTINUING 

I finished my soup and rearranged my pack to make sure I knew where my remaining rain gear was. I also pulled out this one-use rain poncho out and put it on. I didn't want to get drenched again. I noticed immediately that the poncho was short sleeve and wouldn't protect my arms. I would just have to deal with it. I had packed rain pants but since my current hiking pants looked ok decided to stick with them (BIG MISTAKE).

I left the hostel and headed up the trail. The drizzle had ever so slightly lessened. I felt fairly cozy and continued my way upward. It wasn't long before I noticed that, although I was still walking ever higher, I was no longer hiking on the lower side of the mountain but rather on the top side. This didn't mean much, that is, until I reached Km 11. 

KM 11

Almost from nowhere, the wind gusts kicked-in with hurricane fury and began tossing us hikers around the trail like drunken sailors trying to make it back home. The winds where relentless! At this point, the heavy drizzle also began pelting us sideways, stinging any exposed skin, hands, face. My pants, which had fared so well in the light drizzle were now sucking-in the rain from the side drizzle like a sponge, to the point where my pants began sticking to my legs. 

This beating was relentless, sucking the heat from me, from any unshielded parts, and in particular from my arms and now my legs. I kept on. I knew exactly where my rain pants were located in the pack and could pull them out relatively quickly, but being exposed at the top of the mountain with no shield from the winds and rain, and no shelter, the thought of dropping my pants... well I wasn't that in despair... just yet.

This beating went on for kilometer after kilometer and progress was slow. The rain and wind was gradually sucking the heat out of me. My core was well protected but was having a tough time keeping up. By the time I got to Km 11 1/32, I felt that unless I change there was no way I could go on like this for another 5K. That's when I looked up and saw what appeared to be a white shiny object in the distance just a half-klick away. As I got closer I recognized it as a big van. I saw some hikers gathered around one side... When I joined them I realized that it was a local selling goods put off his truck. Goods like boiled chips, sandwiches and hot chocolate. HOT CHOCOLATE!....Did I just say HOT CHOCOLATE!!! 

I pulled out my money looked him in the eyes and said 'goop gack ge Choco Bink' (Apparently I was closer to hypothermia than I realized). Without any hesitation he turned towards the interior of the van, whadiddled for a sec, turned back around, and handed me a cup of hot chocolate. Apparently he's been through this before. You could say the chocolate was a life saver.

Since I now was protected from the elements on the side of the van, I decided to strip down and switch to my rain pants. I also put on a thicker hat. Within minutes I was feeling much better.

THE IRONY OF CHANGING MY CLOTHES

I thanked the vendor and moved on. Not 100 feet from the van, I reached the single track hiking part which was made famous by the movie The Way as this was the part where Emilio Estevez got lost in a storm and died. I found it a bit ironic because today it is so marked-up with markers every 50 feet that a blind man couldn't get lost. Then, on top of that, one literally walks, oh 200 yards on this single track before the single track switches to a dirt road you could drive a truck on (which they probably due for rescues).

As soon I reached the dirt road, which is now Spain, the wind died completely. All that brutal part was done. I felt like singing down the mountain.  

I reached the hostal at Roncesvalles tired but warm again. I survived.  

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

Shadowhunters 3x11, Lost Souls -- Review

It's that time of the year again where I put myself through the torture of enduring this show. Watching this show is like going on an endurance run. You drag your feet when you first start, when you get acclimated to the level of exercise, you think "hey, this isn't too bad" and then by the end, it's just pain...but also a sense of pride that you made it through. That's been my experience with the show, anyway. And it's basically how I felt about Shadowhunters 3x11, Lost Souls.

I would like to preface this review with saying that I am NOT a huge supporter of this show. I do enjoy certain elements of it but I'm not what would be classified as a devoted fan. For me, Shadowhunters is not a good show and I do get very critical of the show in my reviews. Honestly, for me, I watch the show because 1) I'm too curious not to and 2) I find that this show can be so bad its funny and that's how I reap enjoyment out of it. I am not at all invested in this show or its characters anymore. I'm just watching to see what happens. If you're a die hard fan and you lash out at everyone who has a different opinion than you, you might want to skip these...I'm just saying. My reviews may not be for you. If you do decide to be a total troll, well then pay attention to the below disclaimer.

This is going to be an honest review of my thoughts and feelings regarding this episode. If you're the kind of Shadowhunters fan where you only want to hear positive things about the show, this is not the place for you. If you decide to stick around and get offended by what is said, then that's on you. I warned you. Just know that if you send me any rude comments or messages, I will 100% ignore you. I find that's the best way to deal with bullies. I work 14 hour days. Do you really think I want to waste my incredibly valuable free time dealing with derogatory comments? Hell no. This review will consist of my honest opinions. Opinions are never right or wrong. I'm not telling YOU how to think and feel. I'm telling you what I, quirky and socially awkward me, think and feel. So please, lets discuss with dignity and respect. If I'm critical about this show, it's only because I want it to get better. There is, in fact, a difference between hating a show and being critical of it. I do not hate Shadowhunters, I am being critical and analyzing the flaws as I would with any other show. There are positives but there are also negatives. It's great if you want to promote positivity with this show (and I encourage you to do so) but that doesn't mean I'm not going to point out the things that are legitimately wrong with it. Also, keep in mind that despite the fact that I do like the books, me being critical of this show has nothing to do with my fondness for the books. I don't really care if the show deviates from the source material as long as the changes are good, it makes sense, and it doesn't create plot holes within the confines of the world the show has created. My problems with this show are problems I would have with any show or book for that matter. I think it's perfectly reasonable to take issue with a show that has plot holes, shoddy world building, and inconsistent characters. There will be spoilers for the books and movie.

We are at last embarking upon the final episodes of this show and if this episode is what's going to set the tone for the remaining episodes, then I'm glad it's the final episodes because...well, this episode wasn't great and is a perfect example of what I won't miss about Shadowhunters. Bland and cringey dialogue, more characters than it knows what to do with, and too much jumping across plot points. There are individual moments in the episode I enjoyed but overall, this isn't an episode I loved.

The Loss of the Mary Sue

I'm not entirely certain of the timeline in this episode. The episode never specifies on exactly how many days have passed since the 3A finale but I'm going to estimate about a week or so. Everyone believes Clary died in the explosion caused by Lillith attacking Simon.

The episode opens with Jace, Izzy, and Alec chasing after a downworlder and Jace makes some very shoddy decisions in this fight that lets you see just how reckless he's become in the wake of Clary's "death". We then get a montage of everyone missing Clary and the more significant one is Jace, that's the one they spent the most amount of time on. He's basically walking through Clary's room remembering all the times he spent with Clary...so basically three memories. Another classic example of what I've always been talking about when it comes to the adaptation changes. Clary and Jace have barely spent any amount of time together, even less actually dating and I'm supposed to believe that they're each other's one true love...not going to happen because the show didn't develop it at all. There's a moment in the montage where Jace starts looking at Clary's drawings and getting really emotional about it and I felt nothing because Jace has never been shown to take any sort of interest in Clary's artwork before. In fact, if it weren't for that one scene in 3A, I wouldn't even have known that Clary was still drawing. By the show deviating from the books in the way they did, Clace had less development but yet the show still wants to continue the aspect of Clace being hopelessly in love from the books. You can't make a significant change from the source material and then pages down the line expect to pick up exactly where you left off. By making the change, you changed the entire context of the relationship so now the entire story has to change in order to fit that new narrative. Sadly, the Shadowhunters writers have not figured that out yet and continue to make that same mistake...or they're lazy, it could be that, too. Jace eventually gets so depressed that it's implied that he's contemplating suicide but Izzy is able to talk to him and get him to think. And then she just leaves him after making him promise he won’t go through with it. If anyone's wondering, if you catch someone who you believe may be contemplating suicide, do not UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, LEAVE THEM ALONE!!! Particularly in a dark room. Being in a dark enclosed space is not the kind of place that typically sends out positive energy. But I suppose I can cut Izzy a little bit of a break. It's entirely possible the Shadowhunter world doesn't really understand how to help someone who's experiencing suicidal thoughts. They certainly didn’t help out Jace’s mother. Alec also confronts Jace about this in probably the only believable scene in this entire episode. Seriously, I've never been a Jalec shipper but I totally understand why people ship them. Matt and Dom are probably the only actors who actually have any chemistry with each other. But Alec tells Jace he's doing the memory of Clary a disservice and that if Jace were to die, it would destroy him as well. In other words, Jace isn't the only one who's going to be affected by this decision. Jace eventually is called by Luke who for some reason appears to be living in a motel room. I don't know why but whatever. Luke doesn't believe Clary is actually dead and he tries to convince Jace through some really weird conspiracy theory that probably even flat-earthers would find difficult to believe. But hey, if it leads to them finding Clary, I'll go with it. And I understand why Luke is unable to accept even the possibility that Clary might be gone for good. He can't think that about someone who he basically views as his daughter and the last connection he has to Jocelyn. Luke gives the evidence to Jace and tells Jace to at least check it out.

Simon, understandably, is also having a difficult time with all this. And Maia returns to give him emotional support despite leaving for a very particular and totally understandable reason but Simon needs her so of course she comes back for him. It's not like Maia exists for anything else but for Simon's character arc. Both Simon and Izzy kind of passive-aggressively shame Maia about leaving. And I'm particualrly disappointed in Izzy telling Maia about what happened to Simon's family as that's a very deeply personal issue and Simon should've been the one to tell her. It wasn't Izzy's secret to tell. I get that they were trying to use that scene to exposit information to the audience but there were better ways of doing that. Hell, it could've just been Izzy making an off-handed comment about Simon. Maia could've been talking to Izzy about how badly Simon is doing with the Clary situation and Izzy could've been all, "especially with what happened with his family" and Maia could've been shocked and Izzy could've been flabbergasted because she didn't know Maia didn't know. That would've been a much better way for the situation to be handled. But I'm not too pleased with Izzy saying in response to Maia not knowing, "well how could you? you weren't around." Just the insinuation that Maia should stay around and support her man and not go off and get in the right head space to properly heal herself after dealing with the re-emergence of her abuser. But I suppose I shouldn’t expect any different from Izzy seeing as she, herself, also only exists to give support the other characters. I think these passive aggressive intonations of shaming Maia are really horrible and shame on the writer. Maia, Izzy, and Simon decide to work together to find a way to get rid of the Mark of Cain from Simon's forehead. They talk to Raphael who now works at a soup kitchen in Detroit and Raphael tells them the tale of some dude chilling in the sewers of NYC who could possibly be the oldest vampire alive and may have answers to the removal of the Mark of Cain. Maia decides not to help Simon on this as its a bad idea for a werewolf and a vampire to meet and I almost forgot that was a thing, the show so rarely does anything with the vampire vs werewolf dynamic. But of course Maia has to back off to give room for Sizzy. I’m really not a big fan of Sizzy being explored here as everything that made Sizzy fun and interesting in the books has been completely stripped from the show. I’d much prefer Saia on the show. But really, I just want Maia and Izzy to have their own character arc, though that doesn’t revolve around shipping. 

The Malec B-Plot

We have a Malec B-plot that I found just completely unnecessary wherein Iris returns and kidnaps Magnus because she wants to get Madzie back. She falls for the most obvious trap in the world and hopefully we never see Iris again. What it does for Magnus's story works I guess but I just found it to be a really obtrusive subplot that didn’t fit at all with the episode. I'm not sure if it's just the fact that I've been away from the show for a year so I can see the the show a little more clearly now but the Malec chemistry is no longer working for me. Maybe it's just that I've always paid more attention to how alarmingly unequal their relationship is but I'm looking at the body language they're giving off and its not the kind of body language you would expect from lovers. They're so stiff around each other and not relaxed at all.

In fact, there's a line in this episode where Malec has just put Madzie to bed as they're baby-sitting her and Alec kisses Magnus and Magnus tells him to stop because they have a child in the apartment currently. Alec kind of scoffs because it's just a kiss and Magnus is all, "You know how we get." And I'm like, "Do we really, though?" There's plenty of scenes of them talking and I can buy them as friends with that but lovers? I’m having a difficult time actually buying that now. Like I said before, the Jalec scene was way more believable than any Malec scene in this episode.

But Magnus decides he doesn't want to feel helpess ever again so he decides he needs to learn how to fight. Honestly, I was surprised to learn that this is implying he doesn't even seem to really have any basic self-defense capabilities. The way he was swinging the sword earlier in this episode lead to me to believe otherwise. Plus, Harry Shum Jr is a pretty buff dude but I guess maybe Magnus lifts weights and that’s it. Alec decides to help him out on this venture, though.

Siblings Reunited

We find out that Clary is indeed not dead and that Jonathon's back. I'll be real, here. It's kind of hard to feel sad for Jace or Simon or Luke or anyone really regarding the "death" of Clary, considering this entire episode is interspliced with moments of Clary being very much alive. Honestly, I think this episode would've functioned better if it was just about showing everyone going through all the different stages of grief regarding Clary and at the end of the episode when they've hit the acceptance stage, that's when we see Clary wake up in the apartment with Jonathon. But whatever. The show decided not to go that route so we have to make do with what we got. Clary wakes up and looking pretty damn fantastic for someone who's been asleep for days. Not a strand of hair out of place, make-up is flawless, and not a wrinkle to be found on her clothing. In fact, I think they're in even better condition than they were when Clary initially had to put them on. Clary also isn't even the slightest bit groggy, she knows exactly where she's at and everything. Clary does comas well. Jonathon tells Clary that it is indeed him, her big brother and that before Lillith was sent to hell she sent them away to Siberia, apparently. Clary plays nice for a little bit with Jonathon but decides to chance out in the cold of Siberia. It's nice to see that in her state of unconsciousness her muscles didn't atrophy from lack of movement or deteriorate from lack of food. But Clary fails in her escape, Jonathon finds her and brings her back. Clary tries to stab him with a knife but they both find out that what happens to one person will also happen to the other. So yeah, we're full in City of Lost Souls plot here which is ironically the title of this episode. Shadowhunters has never been all that subtle. This new actor for Jonathon is going to take some getting used to. Will Tudor did a phenomenal job with him so its difficult to see this new guy as Jonathon. But it also is difficult to take Clary's anger and hatred of Jonathon seriously when you think about all that Jonathon's really done on the show is kill a shadowhunter Clary had never met before and then injured Max and Max swiftly recovered. Clary is all about painting him as the worst possible being and indeed, in the books, he is but here, while he may be a bad guy who's done really bad things, I don't know if its deserving of that level of hatred. We haven't exactly seen a lot of his horrifying dastardly deeds. Another example of making a change and then thinking you can still keep the same storyline at a later point in the story. I'm certainly not saying I wanted Max to die but story-telling wise, it would make the emotions Clary's feeling here a little more believable. But I'm actually really interested to see where this whole Jonathon and Clary plot goes. In the books, it's Jace that's put in this situation so it'll be interestig to see how the show tackles Clary being in this situation. I'm also wondering, because they seem to be trying to stay away from the incest vibes here, is Jonathon going to gain an unhealthy obsession with Jace instead of Clary? In the books, Clary was who Jonathon was creepily obsessed with. He was equating possession with love and viewed that Clary belonged to him in every way imaginable. So since the roles of Clary and Jace have been reversed here, will Jonathon's obsession now change from Clary to Jace? Probably not but it would've been interesting to see for sure. I mean, if you're going to do a role reversal, you might as well go all the way, right?

The Clave Acting Shady AF

The Clave is being super shady right now. They appear to be doing experiments on the incarcerated downworlders and all I can say is, "do we really need this?" And also, "Why is it being implied that Jia knows about this and is okay with this?" The interesting thing about Jia in the books was the fact that she was the first step in the leadership to help get rid of the more corrupt aspects of the Clave and instigating change. But I suppose it's per the norm for the show to make everyone but the main group a bad guy instead of morally grey. As I've said before, this show has no concept of subtlety. I can only imagine that this is leading into the part in City of Glass the show hasn't done yet wherein the alliance rune is going to be introduced but instead of using it to fight Valentine, they're going to use it to fight Jonathon. That's what these downworlder experiments seem to be leading into as it reminds me a lot of Valentine experimenting in the books. I'm sure there was 0 social commentary intended when writing this into the show, though...but I think its safe to say it's totally social commentary. The show isn't very subtle, once again.

But good news is it looks like Ollie is gone for good so yay! I am side-eying the show, though about that. What was the point of introducing her if you weren't going to do anything with her? I'd say they probably wasted about half of 3A with Ollie unnecessarily. But maybe if this show hadn't been cancelled, Ollie would've played a more significant role? Well anyway, at least some of the fat has been trimmed.

My biggest issue, as always, is the dialogue. The dialogue felt extremely one-note. It was almost like the writer made a flow chart of what they wanted to happen in this episode and was like, "crap! I guess my characters do need to speak, here's some lines to explain what's going on." The dialogue basically existed solely for the purpose of giving exposition but the real kicker is that it was really unnecessary. I could've had this episode on silent (and that might've even have made it an improvement) and I would've understood what was happening perfectly. The dialogue really didn't add anything to the experience, it just made the episode feel more awkward than it already was. And then there continues the trend of Shadowhunters treating their awesome plans as if they’re the most clever plans in the world when in actuality, the plan is beyond obvious and it was super cringey and awkward seeing Izzy being treated as this amazing strategist for making the obvious move. And the episode was already plenty awkward with the constant cutting. It's really difficult to enjoy any particular subplot going on in this show when we only spend maybe 30 seconds to a minute on any particular moment. I kind of wish this show structured their episodes more around themes as opposed to plot. Plot is temporary, plot is always changing but exploring themes through plot gives you more of an appreciation not only for the characters but the story, itself. While I didn't mind sequences in this episode, at the end of the day, it just kind of left me feeling empty. I also think the acting felt a little stilted as well. I wasn't a big fan of any of the performances given in this episode and whereas I've never thought anyone on this show was oscar-worthy for their performances in the past on this show, their performances have always been maybe a C+ to a B. But in this episode, it just didn't feel like any of the actors' hearts were in it. Now granted, that could be a side effect of the script because, as I've mentioned before, the script wasn't great. Or it could've been the directing. There's a lot of reasons for why acting can feel stilted and it very rarely has to do with the actor or actress being bad at acting.

I've made notes about how the dialogue and acting was stilted but those weren't the only things that were. The fight choreography and the blocking felt a little off as well. For starters, the fight choreography did not feel organic. It was strangely reminiscent of season 1 fight choreography. The constant jump cuts so you don't see too much of what's actually happening and just feeling like fight scenes move very slowly. Like the reaction times between sword swing to parry were very slow and it kept on taking me out of the moment. Then you also had moments where Alec and Izzy catch up with Jace in the sewer and everyone's staring at the seelie they're trying to capture for a good 5 seconds before the actual fight continues. And then there's just strange blocking choices where a character walks to a point in the room and then delivers their line but the walk to the new mark wasn’t organic and actually made the line feel more awkward.

I'd probably give this episode a C+. It was passable, with enjoyable moments but ultimately not something I have any desire to return to. There were cute moments (primarily Jalec and Madzie), but overall as an episode, not something to be too terribly impressed with. And yes, there were moments I did like. It’s not my fault the show just had more bad parts I felt compelled to talk about.

[robynthomsonnapierfilm]

Film Adaption - workbook part 2

'Everything Julie Likes'

1. Finding Our Feet (meeting with Charlie/shot list/storyboard)

After getting sorted into our groups and officialising our group members' roles (Myself as director, Charlie as writer/cinematographer, Alyssa as sound recorder/sound editor, Alexander as sound editor/sound recorder, Laura as producer/production design) for Film Adaption (I chose Charlie's film, 'Everything Julie Likes'), Charlie and I had a couple of one on one meetings and chats about the direction we wanted 'Everything Julie Likes' to take. We spent time discussing Charlie's shot ideas - to which I gave my feedback - and plans of a shotlist, characters, and the general tone Charlie had in mind when first writing the script, so that I could accurately portray what she visualised her script as the film's director. One of the main things we wanted to get across in the film is the focus on Julie. Since it's made clear through the dialogue that Dave isn't overly present in her life, we wanted this to come across through the visuals of the film too. This would be done through close ups on Julie, and then whenever Dave is on screen he is only ever seen from behind, close ups on parts of him that don't show his face clearly, etc.

Here is the shot list I roughly jotted down during our first ever meeting together, and then the official shot list that was produced after these discussions:

2. finding Our Film (casting call/location scout)

Once we had a good idea of the skeleton of the film, we all got to work on finding our actors and location. Charlie and I had spoken a bit about how we pictured the characters - Julie and Dave - and so I passed that information onto Laura, who then made a casting call for our group to make public on social media and various casting groups on Facebook. This process was rather tedious as it took a while for people to get back to us, and then when they did.... very very veryyy slow replies... typical. We took to asking around the Napier acting students (including Alexander's own brother!), but that too deemed unsuccessful. in the end, we cast two of our course mates - Jagoda and Luke - as our Julie and Dave, but we had absolutely no complaints as their performances turned out really great.

Next on our list was finding a location. At this point, the top things on our checklist of what we were looking for in a location was a window with bright natural light, and a bed. Unfortunately due to COVID-19 we were unable to scout around for the perfect flat, but my bedroom in my flat luckily fit the description well enough. I sent various videos and pictures to our film's group chat so everyone could get an idea of the space. We all agreed it would work well, and so there we had it - our location was found.

3. the news of filming in uni/script changes

Unfortunately, right as we were sorting things out for our film, the class received an email bearing the news that - due to COVID-19 rules - we were no longer allowed to film in whatever location we wanted. Instead, we were now limited to one of two Merchiston campus classrooms available for filming. This meant we had to act quickly to change the script, shot list, story board, etc. to accompany these sudden changes in our plans.

Our original plan to shoot in a bedroom with both of the actors in bed was obviously no longer appropriate for the COVID-19 guidelines, and so we worked around how this could work in a classroom. We decided to have it set at a table instead, with far more focus on Julie than in the original script. Charlie got to work with editing the script, and we all got to work on planning how we could dress an Napier classroom to look like a realistic room in a family home.

We were also no faced with the task of creating natural light, as we no longer had my bedroom window to work with and this lighting was what we'd wanted from the start. We were sent some video tutorials on how to create cucoloris from our lecturers, and this (along with the use of sheers to dim harsh light) would be our best bet for mimicking the look of natural light shining through a window.

4. set dressing/Pinterest board

During the group meetings we had to prepare for this change, we had discussions of what we wanted our set to look like. This involved talk of colour palettes, who was able to provide what furniture, and thoughts of what Julie and Dave were like as people and the type of home they may live in.

We made it clear from the start that we wanted the flat to look lived in and slightly messy, as Julie is struggling quite a bit when we meet her in Charlie's script. This meant we sourced empty bottles, food containers, and various nick-nacks to complete this look, and by bringing our own stuff from home it would look as realistic as possible. To help give us ideas for making the room look realistic (and since none of us have ever built a room from the ground up before), I made a Pinterest board of various images to give us inspiration:

However, we decided some of the images looked too 'aesthetically pleasing' and not naturally messy enough, so we only picked up on small details i.e. the string of hanging pictures, layered books.

We also spoke about our desired colour palette for the film, and came to the conclusion that a muted tone would be best. We didn't want anything that would take too much attention away from the actors, as this film is very performance based. More so, we had to think about the characters Julie and Dave, and how they would realistically decorate their home. Since Julie's story is based around the fact there isn't much colour in her life anymore, any bright or statement decor just didn't feel right for her. Therefore, we settled on a muted coral type colour for the wallpaper, and a subtler approach to decoration.

5. shopping trip/making cookies to stand in for our new lack of window

To prepare for our shoot, Alyssa, Laura and I spent a day going to B&Q and various other shops to gather everything we needed to dress out film's set. This day turned out to be super fun!

Before heading off, Laura had made a list of everything we needed to buy ahead of time so that we wouldn't forget anything (including some items we may have already had at home):

In the end, it turned out so successfully and within the day we had pretty much everything we needed. While in B&Q, I would take pictures of all the wallpapers I thought were best, and would send them back to the group chat to get a second opinion from the rest of the group before making a final decision. Of course... the one wallpaper that was completely sold out was the most perfect out of the whole batch, but luckily we found it in the B&Q on the other side of Edinburgh - there's always something...

One of the other main things on our list was cardboard to make cucoloris/'cookies' for our window lighting, which a friendly Tesco employee gave away to us for free.

That night I got to work making them. Once I got the hang of it, they were easy enough to complete, and so I made 3 different variations of a window shape for us to try out on the prep day to see which one looked most realistically like a window.

6. prep day

The majority of our prep day was spent setting up the room. This involved sticking up the many sheets of wallpaper and decorating the table. The main struggle with the wallpaper was getting it to lie flat against the wall, as there was a rim of sockets that stuck out and ran around the entire room, making the paper slightly lumpy. We tried our best to get it to stick in a way that didn't look so obviously makeshift on camera and - although it may not have looked 100% perfect - I think Laura and Alexander did a good job of sticking it to the wall despite the confinements the room gave us.

Setting up the table consisted of continually replacing and shifting various objects until we reached that perfect 'natural', 'lived in' look for Julie's home.

Here is a before and after of the room (photo credit to Charlie!):

During this set dressing, Charlie did her job as the cinematographer and set up the camera and lighting, ready for the next day of filming.

She spent some time playing around with the lighting to see what worked best, and through a mix of gels and sheers - we had our perfect morning sun glow through the cucoloris. Switch out gels, and there was our night time lighting.

7. shoot day

Throughout shoot day, we did end up running slightly behind. However I think our rigorous planning, Laura's tight schedule, and our great team meant we managed to get back on top of things. Once we got into the swing of it, we were getting through shots at a comfortable speed, and once I's gotten into the grove of directing the actors, Jagoda and Luke did an excellent job of staying consistent with their performances throughout the day.

Our most ambitious shot of the day was the dolly shot, which we had left to the very end to give us all the time we needed at the end of the day for rehearsals and multiple takes. This dolly shot was to go along with a short monologue heard on a radio we see in shot, and so in order to make the editing easier for Alexander, I would call out the lines the way I wanted them to be read in post-production, as Charlie worked the camera. This did take us a few shots as we wanted to experiment with the speed at which we pushed the camera in - along with trying out how it looked with a focus pull. Kieran recommended we do an ambitious shot like this earlier in the shoot day incase we are pushed for time at the end of the day, so I will definitely bare this in mind for future shoots incase we fail to get back on schedule like we were able to on this shoot.

Overall, the shoot went really successfully! We covered everything we needed in good time, but worked well enough that we were capable of experimenting and making subtle changes throughout the day when need be.

8. edit/sound edit/colour grade

From this point, the film was then handed over to Alexander to edit the footage. He would send each draft to our group's google drive, which we would each watch and then have a Zoom meeting to give feedback. He did a good job of taking in any notes I had and soon enough we had picture lock.

Them, it was Alyssa's turn to edit sound. Before she began, her and I had a chat about some things I wanted - for example, during the montage of Julie scratching the cards I really wanted the sound to build, layering more scratching sounds to create a truly overwhelming feeling. After her first draft of the sound edit, she showed it to me and we called to talk about any feedback I had. Much like Alexander, she was really efficient with taking on feedback and made an excellent job of the sound.

After both picture and sound were locked, Charlie took on the task of colour grading.

9. my experience

Going into this project as a first time director, I was extremely nervous. I was scared I'd let down Charlie's script or that I wouldn't communicate to the actor's well enough or just that I may not do the project justice in general. I do still have a lot to learn and while my first time won't be perfect, I am still happy with how 'Everything Julie Likes' turned out. Everyone in this group was extremely hard working, creative, and worked super well as a team - I'm proud of what we managed to achieve despite all the last minute changes we had to face :)

10. the crit