#i hate all of you and i hope this fucking company burns to the ground

[pawzunyan]

I just got ☆ Fired ☆

i dont have money to fly home yet and theyre just gonna kick me out :D knowing i do not have the money to afford a flight home. fuck you Xanterra Travel Collection.

[sequencefairy]

Hey sorry but I think you’re missing the point of people just saying “I can’t afford this and that sucks” full stop. That’s not hating on them, it’s just feeling disappointed. Of course art shouldn’t be for free, and personally I don’t blame them for wanting to move and grow. But it’s a bummer if you can’t afford it. Sorry if this bugs you even further but I wanted to say this!! Hope you have a good evening ❤️

It is a bummer, and if I couldn't afford it, I would also be bummed!

But people are not just saying they can't afford it and that sucks.

They are leveling accusations at Steven, at Ryan, at the company as a whole, that are just patently not true and frankly, in the case of the vitriol directed at Steven and Ryan, actively fucking racist.

People are accusing Watcher of selling out, accusing them of being greedy and selfish and alienating their audience on purpose as if that is a choice a business that wants to keep running makes on purpose.

People are upset and I get it. But people have also gotta realise that "damn i can't afford this now that sucks" =/= "the entire company should be burned to the ground".

The reactions today have been wildly outsized to the actual issue at hand and to be honest, I think a lot of people who are big mad don't actually like Watcher all that much, based on the things they're saying.

[little-diable]

Kinktober Day 31 – Dean Winchester

And now Kinktober is over once again, it passed by way too quickly! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🩶 Day 31 🩶 knife

Warnings: 18+, piv, shower, blood, use of a knife (duh)

Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.2k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

My Kinktober Masterlist

She was heavily panting, eyes focused on Dean’s bloody features. He was breathing just as heavily as she was, still shaken up by their somewhat successful hunt. While Sammy had stayed behind, (y/n) and Dean had decided to hunt a vampire down, preparing to fight against a nest of creatures both detested. And even though both had made it out alive, neither of them felt like they’d succeeded, unable to put their thoughts into words. 

The lamp of the motel bathroom alighted both their features, giving one another the chance to study their partner, trying to find wounds they’d need to take care of before sleeping this very night away. Dean took a step closer, hand still wrapped around his knife. She didn’t dare move, teeth running along her lower lip, trying to stay quiet as Dean pressed his front against hers. 

With his cold hand finding her chin, he forced (y/n) to look at him, pressing his lips against hers. A moan rumbled through the both of them, searching one another’s closeness, desperate for this kind of distraction. Dean pushed her against the sink, lips kissing their way down her neck as her fingers got to work, unbuttoning his bloody flannel, exposing his toned arms, a sight that would always leave her trembling for more. 

“I hate seeing you getting hurt, fuck, I wanted to kill them all, make them pay for touching you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, forest green eyes turning a shade darker. (Y/n) could only hum, watching his hand move closer with the knife pushed against the neckline of her shirt. Dean didn’t speak another warning before he cut the fabric in half, making her breath hitch in her chest. No further word left her, feeling the tip of the blade pressing into her skin, tracing its way down the valley between her breasts. “Take off your bra, baby, let me look at you.” 

Trembling hands undid her bra, groaning as the cold knife was pressed against her hardening nipples, while his eyes kept searching hers, watching every reaction that tugged on her features. She was putty in his hands, would do whatever Dean asked of her, one with the man who owned her heart, one with the man she’d live through hundreds of lifetimes if she only could. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips while his eyes flickered down to his knife, cupping her left breast with his free hand. Her moans guided him on, tracing the path down to her belly, slightly digging the knife into her skin without drawing any blood. Dean couldn’t help but feel powerful, guided on by the feeling of owning (y/n), knowing that he could do as he pleases, she’d allow it all. 

“Dean,” his name rolled off her tongue like a prayer, hoping that the Lord above would pick up on her begging. “I need you, please let me feel you.” 

Another fast kiss was pressed against her lips, a kiss that distracted her from the feeling of the knife being moved up her body, finding its way to her neck. Her blood was rushing, senses heightened, very well knowing that even though this was nothing but a game, Dean could easily end their time together right there and then. He parted from her with a grin, hand finding her waist to turn her towards the sink, eyes finding hers in the mirror. 

“I would burn earth to the ground for you, sweetheart.” His murmured words left her whimpering, watching Dean trace her skin with the knife, finding joy in the goosebumps littering her body. Their hearts roared in sync, begging one another to find solace in their company, to find their way together in the most intimate way imaginable. Without another warning Dean parted from her, with the knife finding its way to the sink and his hands pulling his shirt over his head. 

No words were spoken as he turned on the shower, watching her undress with trembling movements, stepping into the shower with Dean following moments later. Their lips found back together like magnets searching opposite poles, pushing her against the shower tiles before his fingers found her pulsing clit. 

“Don’t tease, Dean, fuck me.” Her whispers were swallowed by the hot water cascading down his back, washing away the reminders of their hunt, allowing them to forget about what had happened these past hours. The way he looked down on her made her wonder if anybody else had ever been fortunate enough to experience this kind of love, a love so sincere, so honest it left (y/n) breathless. She wrapped her arms around his neck as Dean lifted one of her legs up to his waist, allowing him to align his cock with her entrance. 

“I love you,” he spoke the loving three words, cock slowly pushed into her tightness, groaning at the feeling of her walls clenching around him. He fucked her slow, gave her enough time to adjust to the calm rhythm, to the feeling of Dean pulling out of her only to push in deeper. 

The moans leaving them echoed through the small bathroom, somewhat swallowed by the shower and yet they were loud enough to communicate with one another. The second their eyes met, Dean added more force to his thrusts, tightening his hold on her leg as his other palm was pressed against the tiles. 

Dean’s thrusts turned into something rather brutal, urged on by (y/n)’s pants, by the feeling of her walls fluttering around his aching cock, by the feeling of her nails scratching at his shoulders. A moment so raw, so perfect, Dean couldn’t help but thank his lucky stars for pushing them together all these years ago. He perfectly managed to hit her sweet spot, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, riled up by all his teasing. 

“Fuck, Dean, don’t you dare stop.” She could only hope that he wouldn’t tease her again, that he would push her over the edge within the next moments. One of her hands found her clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle with quick circles, set on matching his ferocious thrusts. Dean’s groans buzzed through her body, making her moan in sync as she felt the knot growing tighter, set on letting go. 

With a string of curses leaving both, they came in unison, making her feel his cum painting her walls white, leaving his stain on her. 

“You okay, baby?” (Y/n) could only nod, pulling Dean in for another kiss before she allowed him to pull away, finally getting to washing her, taking care of the woman he’d eventually marry, set on loving her till the end of their time together.

[sixeyescurseuser]

part 1

Geto is slowing down. He begins engaging in conversation with Gojo, allowing the sorcerer to get within arms length of him. 

Geto works up the nerve to ask, “How do you know where I am all the time?”

Gojo shrugs.  “I can smell you.”

“EH?” Geto raises an arm and smells his armpit. "But I’m a curse. I don’t...produce a scent.”

Gojo shrugs again. “You do to me.”

Geto’s eye twitches.

“Okay, well. I gotta go - nice talking to you BYE!” he says while fleeing once again.

Not even a week later, they meet again during night time, in an open field, where the moon hangs high up in the air. 

Geto perches on a tree branch while Gojo sits on the ground, laying against the tree. Strangely enough, Gojo hasn’t struck up another conversation since joining Geto in his peaceful spot to rest. 

Geto decides to be social this time around. 

“The moon is beautiful tonight,” he quietly comments. 

“Oh, is it?”

Geto glares down at Gojo, the sorcerer obviously noticing the heated look from his companion. Sure, Gojo is blindfolded, but he stated that his six eyes are still powerful enough to perceive his surroundings in great detail.

Shouldn’t he be able to see how bright the moon is?

“Yes, it’s a full moon,” Geto says. “I usually don’t slow down enough to appreciate it.”

Gojo hums, as if in agreement. He tilts his chin up to face towards the curse above him. 

“I see something else that’s beautiful tonight too, but it’s certainly not the moon,” Gojo murmurs softly.

Geto sighs. “Why are you still following me?” In lieu of an answer, Gojo goes from sitting at the base of the tree to sitting on the branch next to Geto’s in the blink of an eye. Geto gasps, turning his gaze away in fear of unleashing his powers on the sorcerer, even though Gojo still wears his blindfold. 

“I follow you because I enjoy your company,” Gojo responds, lacking the usually teasing tone he has when pursuing Geto in their game of tag. “It’s less lonely, isn’t it?”

Somehow, Geto’s cheeks heat up. First, being indirectly complimented for his beauty (whether Gojo could truly see him or not), and second, acknowledging they’ve been sharing a sense of companionship for the past few weeks. 

Gojo Satoru is certainly a force to be reckoned with. 

Geto just hopes he doesn’t get burned in the process. 

***

Gojo finds Geto beyond endearing. The drawings of Geto in history books depict him to be much scarier and violent. 

But he was human too. And Gojo feels this every time he manages to cross paths with the tired curse. Frankly, Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if most of the information in history books are mere rumors that conceal the truth. 

Making Geto out to be something he really is not. 

Well, if he plays his cards right, Gojo will hopefully be able to uncover that truth, and see Geto in the way Gojo himself wishes to be seen. 

When Gojo reveals who exactly the strong and resilient partner he’s taken a liking to, Shoko can only sigh while lighting a new cigarette.

Shoko: “I can't say I’m surprised.”

***

The first time they kiss, they’re sitting together on a bench in the quiet section of a park surrounded by flowers in bloom. This is the first touch of affection Geto has ever experienced, always used and abused when he lived as a sorcerer and hated as a curse. 

However, Gojo’s hand tenderly cups his jaw, guiding their lips together in languid kisses that part with wet smacking noises-

“Fuck! That hurt!” Gojo yelps while pulling away. 

Geto’s snakes, being the biggest haters of their budding relationship, keep biting Gojo’s forehead. Geto scolds his snakes in an angry whisper. 

“Stop it! This is a good thing! Don’t ruin this for me,” Geto says. The snakes respond in their own unique ways. 

“Sorcerer, show us your eyes - just one peek!”

“KILL HIM.”

“Geto-san, I’m hungry~~”

One lone snake actually takes a liking to Gojo and scents his cheek with a flick of the tongue. 

Despite Geto’s occasional embarrassment of his snakes’ behavior, Gojo finds them cute anyway.

***

Gojo and Geto decide on a secluded cottage for Geto to live in. With money and status not being an issue, Gojo took care of furnishing the cottage and land ownership. 

Gojo also has barriers in place so no one - non-sorcerers OR sorcerers - will bother Geto. Gojo insists it’s the least Geto deserves considering the circumstances in how they met. 

Geto wants to cry because he hasn’t even told Gojo half of the shit he’s been through. Yet, Gojo is offering the peace Geto has so desperately craved all his life, right here on a silver platter. 

Better yet, a peace without eternal loneliness. 

Geto is still scared of wandering out by himself because of his powers, so Geto keeps himself busy inside the cottage.

Gojo visits when he can, usually every couple of days. Like a cat who’s been waiting for its owner to come home, Geto greets Gojo with a long kiss. Over time, Geto’s snakes have also come to love Gojo, and they too will place kisses all over Gojo’s face when the lovers are close. 

Gojo makes sure to bring back dozens of treats for Geto to try. Geto’s tastebuds are nowhere near what they used to be, but he giddily accepts the bland food that’s been provided with love and care.

Geto versus technology is an entertaining phenomenon. He’s a curse from the ancient times, and there hasn’t been an opportunity to learn the new ways of mobile devices or the internet. 

Geto picks up texting the quickest, though he uses formal grammar in dense paragraphs and puts a period after each sentence. 

Gojo sends Geto lots of funny videos, to which Geto responds with: “Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

Gojo types back :“so harsh, suguru!🥹”

Geto: “I laughed though.”

Gojo: “yes you did, my dear🥰”

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

***

part 3

[sawyerslvt]

Johnny or Leland? | Episode 4

Previous Episode ♡ Next Episode

This is a choose your own ending story. I have also included links to porn in this series, for better visualization ;) I haven't been feeling in a very 'writing mood' so please excuse the lack of episodes + this short one. I'm working on the endings but I can't get myself to love what I'm writing at the moment. I don't want to release stuff I'm not proud of. Hope you understand <33

Word Count: 1,346 Warnings: MDNI, abuse

It’s difficult to keep track of time when you have no clue what time of day it is. You feel like it's been days, maybe weeks? Johnny brings food and takes care of you like he said he would. You fail to see what the end goal is. Is he gonna kill you? Is he planning on releasing you or… is this it? Being held captive in his basement, keeping you alive but you don't get to live life. You’ve grown really fond of him, he’s the highlight of your day whenever he walks through that door. Sure, he’s the only human interaction you get, but it wasn't bad human interaction, certainly doesn’t feel like a hostage situation.  He’s kind and gentle. He sits down and eats with you, youre talking and laughing. If the circumstances were different, you would be head over heels in love with the man. And of course, he fucks you real good. Sometimes he’s rough and other times he’s slow, passionate and loving, making you wonder if he’s as fond of you as you are of him. 

Johnny can't stay with you all the time and he leaves you in the cold and dusty room alone. He brought you a blanket and pillows to keep you company and warm when he’s away. But other than that it was painfully quiet. Sometimes you swear that you hear Leland calling for you. It echoes in your head but when you call for him, you don't get a reply. You know it's your mind playing tricks on you, hallucinating, but you miss Leland. You’re scared of what might've happened to him. With your time alone, you find yourself thinking about him a lot. His playfulness, laugh and charm was burned into your mind, stinging more and more. It's not rare for you to cry as you imagine him holding you. You remember his desperate screams as you were pulled away by Johnny. You hate how complicated everything is. You hate that you can't decide between the two men when the answer should be so simple. 

Your thoughts get interrupted when you hear the familiar door open again. It's Johnny and he’s holding your breakfast… or lunch… or dinner, you're not really sure which meal it is. It feels like your mind goes blank whenever you see him, you shoot him a warm smile and get up to greet him. You walk over and balance on your toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, he has to lean forward a little to have you reach him. “How did my woman sleep?”. Based on his question, you assume maybe this could be breakfast then. “She was lonely without her man to keep her company”, you make a pouty face and cross your arms. You were playful in your tone but you were serious. It was always so miserable and scary sleeping alone. He has slept with you a couple times but recently says he’s too busy to spend all that time with you. You hold some resentment, but you’re happy he’s back. 

He puts your plate on the ground by the mattress and comes back to give you a big hug. He holds you in his arms for a while without saying anything. Your head is pressed against his hard chest and you hear his heartbeat. “I missed you so much today, I couldn't even do my work proper… You were on my mind too much” his voice is low, like he hates admitting it to himself. You smile and look up at him, giving him a quick peck. He turns the quick kiss into a long and passionate one. He’s cupping your face with both hands and making out with you like he hadn't seen you in years. You welcomed his kiss, you had missed him too. His touch was enough to make you feel like you're floating. But you keep getting flashes of Leland. He’s haunting you. The more you enjoyed Johnny's presence, the more of Leland you saw and you think a big reason is because you think Johnny is the cause for something bad having happened to him. 

At the very least… you have to know. You have to find out what Johnny did to him. Is he still in that room waiting for you to come back? Does he think youre dead or did his mouth dig his own grave? Making Johnny kill him? You had so many questions and all of them could be answered by the man kissing you. You break away from the kiss and look down. “What’s wrong, doll?”. His voice is concerned and his brows are furrowed as he tries lifting your chin to make him face you. You reject his touch and continue looking down, you know he’s getting more and more worried. “...w-what did you do to him?” Your voice is soft and quiet. Johnny is so good to you, so kind but you're scared the mention of his name will make him snap. He sighs. “what i did to who?...”. He’s not asking cause he doesn't know, he's asking cause he’s testing you. You don't care if he snaps, you have to know. “...W-what did you do to Leland?”. His name was like a trigger and he grabs your face, harder than he’s ever done before. “Don't you ever utter his name. Besides, why do you care? You have me. Am I not enough?”. He squeezes harder with that last question, he’s hurt that you would bring him up. “you… y-you’re hurting me Johnny”, your voice is soft and careful. “Answer my question”. His voice is weak, he’s hurting and demanding for you to validate the feelings he already has for you, thinking you felt the same way towards him. “you’re more than enough”. Tears are streaming down your face at this point. It was true though, he was enough but that didn't erase the feelings you had for Leland. 

His grip loosens and he steps away from you, putting his hands behind his head, then on his hips. He’s pacing back and forth not knowing what to say or do. “Why do you fucking care about him anyways? You met him the same damn night you met me. You've spent more time with me than you did with him”. You don't know what to say, you don't even know what he wants you to say. It's a question designed to trap you no matter the answer. “I don't care about him… i- i just don’t…” he interrupts you. “Well obviously you do care, otherwise you wouldn't bring it up, would you?”. His voice is angrier than it's ever been and for the first time, you're scared for your life in his presence. “I’m sorry… it won't happen again” Your voice is weak and you try hugging yourself to calm yourself down, a form of self soothing. “Damn right it won’t happen again… I mean FUCK” He kicks your food that was laid on the ground. The food goes flying and the plate nearly hits you but you manage to dodge just in time. You hug yourself harder, trying to shrink yourself. Maybe if you stayed still enough, he wouldn't see you. He walks over to you and the sight of him angrily approaching, makes you backup a little. He grabs you by your hair and gets close to your face. His grip is hard and he’s hurting you again. “You’ve lost food privileges, I'll be back in a week”. He lets go of your hair and almost throws you away like he was disgusted seeing your face. He starts walking out of the door and you run after him crying, grabbing his forearm trying to pull him back. You don't care even if he slaps you, you didn't want him to leave you, especially for a week. You don’t care about the food, you want him. “Let go” he says simply and pulls himself from your grip and locks the door behind himself. You fall to the ground crying hysterically.

Previous Episode ♡ Next Episode

credit for dividers: @kyunlouy

[frankcastlescumslut]

it hurt. almost to the point of being unbearable, but it was necessary.

it had to be.

it wasn’t selfish of him to leave, you knew that. he tried his hardest to convince you it was— that he was wrong to have intertwined himself with your life, that it was the most careless thing he could have done, to put you in danger like that.

but it just… wasn’t. it couldn’t be. his absence was the last act of love he could give to you, and it hurt.

relocating was necessary. in some ways it helped; there were no traces of him to be found, no reminders or distant memories that would poke and prod the ache in your chest, just uncomfortable stillness.

there are moments when you wonder if things would be different if you never became a target, but you shove those thoughts away, burying them alongside the slivers of hope you once had.

it was lonely.

you were lonely.

acknowledgement was the first step along a fine line and yet, it was futile.

time never stopped, of course.

you found a new job. ate at a different diner. the weather changed. leaves turned to different shades of fire before returning to the earth. snow littered the ground. fireworks assaulted the sky.

you always hated the new year, just like Frank, and it was no different this time. except that it was— everything was different.

he was still gone and you were still there, alone, even if you were surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet champagne at a company party you couldn’t get out of.

he was still gone, fireworks were still igniting, and there was nothing you could do about it. there was no way to make sure he was okay, let alone alive, and that was the reality of the situation.

he was still gone.

you were still alone.

fireworks still exploded.

it wasn’t unusual for you to leave at the slightest inconvenience, but this was more than that. the noise was a constant reminder of his suffering, that you weren’t there, that he didn’t give you chance to be there— it was an attack against your very being, and your feet carried the weight for you, as far away from other life forms as possible.

you weren’t sure where you were once your feet stopped moving. the tears stung against your freezing cheeks, your throat burned with each gasp of dry air, the world spun around you.

frank was gone.

you were alone.

fireworks echoed your perceived solitude.

it had to have been a cosmic encounter or divine intervention that kept you on your feet long enough to watch a silhouette stumble towards you.

“Frank?”

no, that was stupid of you to think that.

it was the grim reaper, you decided— that felt more practical. it was time for your to pay your dues and accept the fate that had finally caught up to you.

you gave in, dropping your head in submission to what was to come. there was a moment of curiosity, if this is what it looked like when Frank’s family was hunted, if they would be kind enough to make it as quick as possible, if he would ever find out about your demise.

it didn’t matter, you decided, and steadied yourself in anticipation.

your brain felt fuzzy as you watched the figure grow closer. it had to have been the champagne, you thought— there was no logical explanation for a ghost to be hobbling in front of you.

but there he was.

dead man walking.

you swallow your vomit, because that would be embarrassing, and you squeeze your eyes shut. maybe this is all a lucid dream, maybe you could will yourself to sober up enough to get the fuck out of there, maybe you could convince yourself that he wanted to come back.

but he was still there.

he was still frank.

he looked different; his hair was buzzed and new bruises decorated his hardened face. nearly unrecognizable, you allowed yourself to see him, but there was the familiar softness around his eyes that he reserved for you.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

hey hehe 🙈 sorry for this! I was listening to Satellite by Harry Styles and couldn’t get this out of my head k bye!

[pessimisticoptimistsblog]

A/N: Two chapters in two days, I'm on a roll! I hope you all like this, finally getting some of the show in this.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 4

What the fuck

Grabbing another book off the dwindling pile in front of them, Caelwen’s shoulders slumped. This was the 4th day that she and Lucifer had been in the library. As much as she was enjoying the fallen angel’s presence, every book that wasn’t what they were looking for made her want to cry.

The news of the extermination moving up had come as a surprise and shock, Heaven truly was heartless. But it also moved Caelwen’s deadline up, she was too close to making Adam pay to wait until the following extermination – it had to be this one.

Lucifer tossed another book on the pile of useless ones, having given up on putting them away for now. Looking over to see his companion also growing weary, he checked his watch to see it was almost lunch time. Lucifer tapped Caelwen on the shoulder to pull her away from her current book. “Let’s pause and get lunch, we could both use a break.”

In the kitchen, Lucifer summoned ingredients for some sandwiches to the island, arranging them so they could both make their own. As Caelwen was going to sit, she felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her dress. Pulling it out, she noticed a message from Nia.

Nia: hope it’s going okay boss lady. We’re all good here, Velvette was a bitch but I handled it. Don’t forget about overlord meeting tomorrow. I know you don’t normally go but with everything happening…

Caelwen: Thank you. Yes, I was thinking this might be the time to go. I’ll go alone though, I’m more interested in seeing who still stands and assuring them I’m still capable.

Nia: let me know if you change your mind, okay? I’m here if needed.

Caelwen finally sat down, rubbing the bridge of her nose; she hated those meetings but with all the chaos of the extermination being moved up, she knew being present could make or break her company and position.

“Is everything okay? Your assistant hasn’t let your business burn to the ground, hopefully?” Lucifer asked with a chuckle.

Caelwen gave him a small smile *Yes, she was telling me that all is well. She also reminded me that there is an overlord meeting tomorrow. Despite not owning any souls, I rank rather high amongst the demons apparently. I’ve been considered an overlord for almost 300 years now, but it’s been a few decades since I last attended a meeting. With the extermination moving up, this is one I don’t think I should miss.*

Lucifer’s was slightly taken aback, he had always thought the sinners were only led by fear and power. This woman in front of him seemed so gentle, how could she have gained respect amongst heartless demons? Caelwen could see his confusion and chuckled silently.

*I can be quite scary when I need to be. Plus, I do have support from Beelzebub with my business. And that’s been a helpful bonus* Caelwen finished with a smirk.

Chuckling, Lucifer agreed with the Nephilim – not too many sinners would willingly try to piss of one of the sins. Though he wasn’t sure he could ever see Caelwen as scary.

Back down in the library, the two continued the cycle they had established on the first day. The 14th and 13th centuries had been a bust, nothing had come close to the symbol Caelwen had been branded with. Despite their lack of success, though, they were both smiling and laughing. Between sharing stories from their lives and making small jokes there were secretive glances, light touches that lingered on hands or shoulders, and faint blushes that they each did their best to conceal.

Caelwen had never felt so light in her life. In spite of how long she had lived in Hell, the Nephilim had always been more concerned with staying alive and hidden then with maintaining her company and image. She had never bothered with romance; she’d read about it, sure, but never looked for it. Still, here she sat, next to the strongest being in all of Hell, blushing and feeling as though her heart might beat out of her chest every time his hand brushed hers. And, fuck, if he kept brushing the feathers of her wings she might combust – she’d never realized how sensitive they were!

When night rolled around and they retired to their separate rooms, Caelwen lay awake, trying to sort through her feelings. Having been unable to speak for so long, she’d become well-attuned to her surroundings and reading people. She knew Lucifer was reciprocating her actions, truthfully he’d been the first one to start lingering when handing her books or moving her wings to a better position. The problem was that she didn’t know how to proceed or if she even should.

~ The Next Day ~

Caelwen was gone after breakfast, expressing her desire to check on the office and Nia as well as grab some clean clothes before the Overlord meeting. She hated taking a break from their search, but Lucifer assured her he’d keep looking while she was out.

After changing into a clean, sleek black dress and assuring she was consumed in shadows, Caelwen headed into her office. There, she saw Nia sitting in her chair with her legs propped on the desk with a phone to her ear. Plopping down into a chair across from the hell hound, Caelwen waited for the call to wrap up. From the eye rolls and the hand yanking at her hair, it was obviously not a fun conversation.

Finally slamming the phone down after a gruff ‘fuck off’, Nia turned to her boss with a grin. “How’s it goin’ boss lady? Any luck with the books?”

*Unfortunately, not yet. We’ve worked through quite a lot though and Lucifer is going to keep going while I’m out today.* Caelwen leaned forward then, peering at the spread of papers on her desk before looking back to Nia. *I assume everything here is still okay? No one has died or tried to get one over on us?*

Nia smirked, “Duh! I’m pretty good at this shit. You know, if you ever wanted to take some time off, I’d be more than happy to run this place for awhile!”

*Good. I may take you up on that; once this seal is broken, I’ll probably need some extra time to adjust and get myself in order before the extermination.* The two women smiled at each other then Nia began to catch her boss up on everything that had happened over the last few days.

An hour later, Caelwen was standing in an elevator of the tall building, and the overlord meeting would be held in. Consumed in shadows, she took a deep breath to center herself and mentally assume her alter ego. The elevator door opened, and Madame C exited and turned to walk towards the meeting room. Entering the room, she noticed Carmilla walking to the head of the table. Madame C looked around, taking note of each Overlord in front of her, a couple she didn’t fully recall, but most were the same. When her eyes landed on Alastor and his unnerving grin, a shiver rolled down her spine – she’d thought for sure he had died, wished for it honestly.

“Welcome Hell’s sovereign Overlords. I’ve invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together you own millions of souls, souls at risk with the new extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interests.”

As the tall woman was talking, Madame C made her way around the table towards her chair. Despite not being present for a few decades, the chair next to Carmilla and opposite to Zestial had always been hers, and no one had bothered to try and occupy it.

“Zestial, so good to see you my friend”

“Enchanted as always Carmilla” the spider demon said, summoning a cup of tea.

The arms dealer then turned towards the radio demon in surprise, calling his name. It seemed Madame C wasn’t the only one who had thought him dead.

“Oh, yes, I know I’ve been absent some time. I’m sure you’ve all been wandering!” How she hated the sound of his staticky voice, like nails on a chalk board.

“Not really,” Carmilla shrugged. “But welcome back in any case.” She turned to the shadow-encased woman beside her next. “I’m glad to see you as well, Madame C. It’s been some time since you’ve graced these halls.”

Madame C gave a short wave and nod of her head, eager to be done with the niceties and this meeting.

Carmilla snapped her fingers and was handed a clipboard. “This years extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost. With the Angelic legions returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we-“

The door was kicked open by Velvette, entering the meeting late and on her phone. ‘Children’ Madame C had never liked the Vees much either, to brash for her taste. She propped her elbow on the table and placed her head in her hand, doing her best to tune out the youngest Overlord.

Madame C jolted back as a head rolled towards her before stopping. It was the head of an exorcist, golden blood leaking from where it had been severed from its body. Bringing a hand to her mouth, the shadowed woman looked away to re-center herself.

“Where did you get this” Carmilla asked Velvette.

“We found it during extermination day. If these Holy Rollers can be killed, the game has changed!” She hopped up on the table walking towards the center, “We can take the fight to them. The boys and I have come up with a full assault plan –“

Loud slurping interrupted Velvette’s tirade, thankfully. Everyone turned to Zestial.

“If it be true thee and thy colleagues desire to war with such meager proof, thou art far more foolish than I be thought.”

Madame C gave a subtle nod agreeing with the spider, one exorcist meant nothing in the grand scheme, no matter how wonderful the thought of eliminating the holy army was.

Velvette snorted, “’Meager proof’? It’s a dead fucking exorcist. I’d say that pretty fucking definitive. You goin’ blind, old man?”

“We know not how this perished. Mayhaps t’was not by a demon’s hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing, mightn’t they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?” A round of agreements was heard from every overlord around the table, angering Velvette.

“Oh I get it. So, grandpa is too pussy to fight so I guess there’s no point. Right?” She got into Zestial’s face. “Oh what’s the matter, fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab?” Madame C clenched her fists to keep from throttling the girl, letting Carmilla stand up for Zestial.

The two women began to battle it out over showing respect. Madame C felt a headache forming behind her eyes, doing her best to not lose her mind over the shit show this meeting had become. She could have been with Lucifer - looking through the library, getting closer to actually flying, sharing more stories. Testing the boundaries of their growing friendship. Instead, she was stuck here watching a child argue for all out war with angels trained to kill sinners.

Madame C tuned back into the conversation when she heard Velvette accuse Carmilla of knowing why the angel was headless. If it was true that Carmilla had killed or at least knew how to kill the exorcist, she’d need that information for later.

Carmilla called for the end of the meeting abruptly as Velvette tried to get a confession, leaving the other Overlords confused and upset. They had all taken the time to gather, and the meeting had barely begun before it was over. Madame C had not missed the chaos these meetings could be.

Rising from her seat with the other Overlords, Madame C made her way to the elevators, avoiding any questions thrown her way. It wasn’t like she could answer, so why did they try?

Once out of the building, shadows consumed her and transported her to Lucifer’s front door; she didn’t want to bother with being interrogated by Nia after the disastrous meeting. Greeting the imp that opened the door, Caelwen dropped her shadows as she waited in the entryway for Lucifer. Less than two minutes passed before a portal opened in front of the green-eyed woman, a black gloved hand hastily pulled her through.

Stumbling, Caelwen was caught at her shoulders by a grinning Lucifer, his smile so wide it nearly split his face.

“I found it! It’s not the exact symbol, but that’s because he changed it to make it what he needed. I’ve spent the last hour triple-checking and I can’t believe I forgot about bindrunes! They’re very old, but powerful and it makes perfect sense for the timing and-“ he cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. “We can break this seal within the next couple of days, just need to get a couple things first!”

Caelwen’s jaw had gone slack, her brain silent, eyes wide in disbelief. When Lucifer said she’d be whole in just a few days, she couldn’t contain her body and threw herself at the blonde man, wrapping him in a tight hug. She felt his arms slowly encircle her waist, returning the hug slowly as his mind processed the action.

Pulling her head back to look Lucifer in the eyes, it took everything she had to not kiss him. Instead, she grinned at his shocked face before squeezing him tighter and then pulling away slowly. Caelwen grabbed Lucifer’s hand and gestured for him to show her the book, her headache completely forgotten as the two lost themselves in reading through the book together and making a list of everything they might need.

Whether they realized it or not, neither one made any attempt to pull their hand from the other’s, content with the connection as they basked in their victory.

A/N – Ahhh!! I’ve done a quick proofread of this, so hopefully, I didn’t miss anything. We got a little peak into Caelwen’s mind this chapter which was fun. I’ve been developing her since the season premiered on prime, and it’s so nice to get her written down. Hope you all enjoy; likes, reblogs, and comments are so appreciated. They’ve literally kept me out of a depressed funk this past week, so thank you all!

Tag List:

@leximus98

[darin-nidk]

One-shot ft. Scaramouche x Reader.

Content: Angst with no comfort because misery loves company.

"Is that all you have to say?", your voice was unexpectedly cold, and your visage showed a painful expression yet your shoulders were trembling, hands turning into fists and nails digging into your palm. The pain grounding you. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, but you refused to let them spill, swallowing the lump in your throat because you needed an answer. One that made sense. One that justified all of this, all the misery and pain that you are currently going through.

"What? You want me to spell it out or speak slower to you in order to understand? Leave my sight before I order for you to get dragged away". Scaramouche replied a little too fast, too quickly as if he had practiced this exact same scenario playing in his mind, or maybe all of the potential consequences way ahead before they took place. It was necessary, he tried to convince himself over and over, everyone who had entered his life had only left him picking up the pieces of a broken doll unable to return to its original state. Once something is broken even if later on it gets fixed... It will never be the same. It will never be enough. He wasn't enough, that's why he was left behind.

"I know that all of this, all we have... or had", adding that last bit made the aching in your chest increase but you had to get your point across. "It was real, it was the truth. I don't understand why you keep insisting on pushing me away — I don't care if you have flaws, or whatever you need to do to fulfill your objectives. I accepted you for who you are, I am already past the feeling of being worried for my well being when I know you protect me, you do send people to watch over me, I am not fucking stupid. I know your ruthless nature and sharp tongue, I have seen the hate in your eyes and not even once you looked at me like that, so please tell me". Taking a deep breath to compose yourself and trying to supress the burning feeling of your throat closing up as well as the inhuman efforts to not break down crying right there and then, you mentally prepared yourself for words that you hoped wouldn't make you feel any more sick than this. "Tell me that you want me out of your life, tell me I was a mistake and the worst thing to ever happen to you... If, if you do so then I will leave. I will leave and never look back".

Don't. "You are." Don't say things that will hurt him more than it'd hurt you. How could you, of all people he met, be thinking such a thing? You, who could see glimpses of Kunikuzushi that he thought he had erased entirely for being pathetic; you, who could bring back hope and make him feel alive and with a purpose. You who made being alive somewhat worthy, you who turned all those haunting betrayals in his mind fade away with your sole presence. You who could make the whispers dripping with hatered and demons mocking, taunting his mind go quiet, as you smiled in his direction, your eyes reflecting him. Your eyes with so much love and devotion no matter how many times he'd show his fangs in order for you to run. "You are the most disgusting and horrible existence that I had the disgrace of crossing paths with", the crushing expression on your face made it almost impossible for him to continue, the desperate need to close the space between the two of you and apologize was tempting, to say this was all an elaborated lie to keep you safe from the future events that will take place. Almost. "You seriously thought I was in love with you? That shows how naive and stupid you are, don't flatter yourself. You truly are a brainless idiot, fine, I will say it: I wish we had never even met".

If you could die at that right moment, you would have done so. All air left your lungs and you could no longer contain the tears that blurred your sight, it was hard to breath, it was hard to feel anything at all. If it wasn't for the massive headache this situation was giving you, or the piercing pain in your chest, in your heart, either caused by Scaramouche himself or how you weren't breathing that made it feel like you were about to die, you would have felt numbness. Nails now digging further into your palms, now drawing blood. It was the only thing grounding you, the only thing confirming how all of this was real.

If you like my stories, consider donating to my Ko-Fi! Even cents are plenty of help!

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Burn the Witch

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Soap x Shadow!Reader x Ghost Light Graves x Reader

This is your first operation away from Shadow Company, as your skills as an undercover operative will be put to the test on your hunt for Hassan Zyani. With help from the 141, things should go smoothly. You could only hope...

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: Foreshadowing Future Action, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Tension, Light Romantic Tension, Canon-Compliant, Foreboding, Probably Military Inaccuracies, Reader has hidden agendas, part one of two for these next two chapters basically

Masterlist

Let me start by saying I HATE this chapter with a burning passion. It took me a month to try and brainstorm every possible way I could convey the plot how I wanted without it being boring. But alas, I've said fuck it, because it's been over a month and we've gotta keep it pushin'.

The chapter's slow, obviously meant to be the prologue to the next chapter. Once again, I'm sorry I made you all wait so long for this. However, with this mundaneness out of the way, I hope the next chapter improves.

Please enjoy.

Chapter Twenty-One - Burn the Witch

What does it mean to be ready for the inevitable? You've pondered that a lot lately, though it sparks in your mind more so once the trucks have parked and your team has offloaded onto an airstrip swirling with chaos and urgency.

Helicopters raged above you, convoys and other armored vehicles driving to their designated areas, ready to ship you all into battle. All the while, the night sky sits plainly above you. An empty sea of black set fit to remind you of the uncertainty which lies ahead of you.

In five minutes you would be heading out.

By now air support has most likely already started bombing the AQ bordering your LZ, meaning the firefight starts the second your flight touches the ground. The rest of the details involving your mission came to you as hectic as the night had already been. Comm chatter blistered on every channel, new information getting spoon-fed to you by every half-hour mark.

There had been no time for any other thoughts, in fear of missing something crucial. But one detail had been an especially hard pill to swallow, all things considered.

They're splitting everyone into two teams, both tasked with sweeping separate areas for Hassan. Once each building has been neutralized, the teams will regroup, with Hassan either dead or alive in your custody.

A sound strategy as any you've heard before, though you would have preferred to stay placed on the same team as 141, had you any say.

Instead, you were to lead Team Alpha in there stead, as Ghost and Soap lead Team Bravo.

Your placement had been deliberate, to say the least. Shepherd always had a way of pulling the strings to his advantage in the background, and you had just become his latest puppet.

Your real briefing came to you via a quick, virtual meeting, having had to wait for the others to break off and start loading up their gear before you could slip off somewhere secluded to meet. From there, you'd gotten the video up and prepared yourself to be greeted by your two-faced general.

But instead of some old, bald man appearing before you on your screen, you had been greeted by a pair of steel blue eyes, sharp, and consumed in all sorts of stress and business.

Your commander.

It took your breath away to see him again, still with his authoritative look and short, blond hair he's spent the last few minutes combing his fingers through, you're sure. Even through the screen, you could have sworn you might have seen the light come back in his eyes. Then, you're reminded of how you two left things off, and the radio silence that had fallen soon after.

He hadn't changed a bit, you'd say.

You frown, not wanting to reward the man with any expression beyond mild irreverence, even as he smiled at you like nothing changed. You knew a mask when you saw one, and frankly, it was getting old.

You have more important things to worry yourself to death over.

"You're lookin' good," he compliments.

You pause, taking another second to look over your commander again. What you can see is the small joy he feels, having caught you doing so. But before you've allowed him to speak, you've made his mind up for him.

"The briefing? Commander?"

Graves cleared his throat, straightening himself up on the other end. He hadn't expected to still be so taken aback seeing you after what felt like over a month now. "Right then," he begins. "Your mission..."

Graves did his best to give you the highlighted version of whatever it was Shepherd told him about your orders. While the clarifications had made things more clear, it didn't make tonight any easier.

With you separated from 141, the General's hopes had been for you to investigate what you can about the missiles and "take care" of Hassan. With no suspicion or incident. It only figures that regardless of what the AQ General knew about his missiles, Shepherd would want him dead. And if he wanted him dead, then that's just what you had to do.

Anything to put an end to this.

"Get this done, and we're one step closer to being home free," he feels the need to remind you again. Only lately you've wondered what that even means anymore. It didn't help that trapped sensation you'd been unable to shake all night.

"I've heard that before," you roll your eyes.

"Don't make it any less true," he says. And then he pauses, hesitant from the looks. Silent. You knew what often came after that.

"Are you... Have you been doin' alright?"

His question doesn't come as a surprise to you, however, you admit you're unsure how to answer him. You wish he had asked you weeks ago.

But he hadn't.

"I'm fine."

Graves opens his mouth to say more, however, something stops him. Perhaps the look he sees in your eyes, or the lack thereof. He knows bridges have been damaged between you two, if not burned. He's not an idiot. He's also only human.

"Don't get yourself killed, OK?"

Though it made you feel rather pathetic, his words felt more riveting than you had wanted them to be. And you had missed it.

"No promises, Commander." You wink.

You tap your leg against the metal floor below you, feeling it shift and sway as the heli races through the dark skies of Al Mazrah.

Two minutes now and you would be separated from the 141. Alone and on a mission of your own. One only you were aware of. Your mind needed to be right.

You take a look around at the soldiers gathered around. They had everyone crammed into the heli like sardines, your rifles hugged to your chest and your eyes forward. Awaiting the sound of gunfire.

"No songs to whistle?"

Ghost's gruff voice from across the heli brings your eyes back from the row of dark boots your eyes had been glued to. They had been all down there all night, doing whatever possible to ignore the eyes of Ghost's on you all flight long.

Your behavior tonight had been a stark contrast to the last op he'd run with you, where there you'd been jovial and nigh overconfident, chatty in most instances. Tonight, you had been completely quiet, eyes razor-focused, and mind everywhere and nowhere all at once. It gave the man a rough feeling about tonight, and watching you tap your leg finally drew him to a point of speaking, it seems.

You look up at the lieutenant, more wide-eyed than intended. Everything needing to be done tonight had been buzzing through your mind so much this past hour, it hadn't even crossed your mind to calm yourself to a tune.

"I can't think of one," you admit. "But I take request."

Ghost holds his gaze with you for a moment, his eyes so dark in this interior that he almost appeared inhuman, the large shadow that he was sitting across from you. Meanwhile, he wondered if there'd ever be a day you weren't trying to delve in a subtle way and hear his music taste.

Perhaps you've finally worn him down. Ghost looked as though he were about to actually answer you for once.

And then, the comms cut in.

"Approaching the LZ."

All casual conversing had now just ended.

Bombs and gunfire grow louder outside the heli, replacing the rumble of the spiraling blades and the vibrations of its metal. Like a song drumming you into battle, you hear it beckon you all near.

"Bravo Team offloads here." Ghost stood from his seat to address both teams now, his entire aura changing from endearing to brutish in the blink of an eye. "Alpha Team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill."

You watch as Bravo Team stands from their seats, gathering near the end of the heli to exit. Your eyes track Soap, who passes by your peripheral briefly until he's paused right before you.

With all his gear on, helmet strapped tight, and weapon loaded and ready, he looked a man ready for anything. He always seemed to be in most cases.

You'd been aware of Soap's watchful gaze since boarding together. He had smiled every time you looked his way, giving you an assuring nod, and sharing a comment when a thought would come, but you see the worry he held for you in his eyes. He had just wanted you to be OK.

His positivity alone hadn't been enough to ease your troubles, even as the man desperately wanted it to be. He only feared not having more to offer you beyond a smile and promise to keep you safe. He'll keep making that same promise 'til he's blue in the face if he has to.

Soap raises a fist to you gently, giving you a warm smile.

You tell him, "Try not to have too much fun."

Soap had wanted to say more, by the way his lips parted and the glint in his eyes twinkled, even beneath the red lighting. But he holds his tongue, knowing he must prioritize the mission. Duty above all else.

"Aye, aye lil' bird."

Soap gives you a parting wink, and then joins Ghost and the others at the front of the heli. You watch him the entire way, until the doors open, and a gust of wind barges into the heli, whipping through the fabric of your uniforms. This didn't feel real until now.

From where you still sat, you watch the lieutenant give him a scolding look, the men preparing to exit. "Keep up, Soap," he says.

The heli doors shut behind them, leaving you in a metal coffin shared between other marines you knew no better than the men you were about to fire on. With Ghost and Soap no longer around, it now leaves you to lead this team through thick and thin.

Gravity feels a lot heavier all of a sudden.

You hear the pilot speak into the comms, "Razor-1, all Bravo deployed. Moving to secondary HLZ."

The heli shift to the side, and you feel yourselves soar through the night sky, the sounds of gunfire increasing at every second.

"Alright," you call out to your men. "It'll be hot once we've landed. Check your gear and weapons now while you can. The faster we get this done, the faster we can call it a fucking night."

The marines all give you an affirming cheer of agreement, and for the first time all night you start to feel more positive about how things will go.

Yeah, you told yourself. This mission's like no other you haven't done in the past. Find your target, neutralize the situation, and get out. Simple.

You adjust your grip on your rifle and straighten up, your leg tapping even faster than your heartbeat. No word from Ghost or Soap on the comms yet. That had to be a good sign.

The helicopter dives to the right suddenly, sending you all back into your seats, before the chaos outside is instead drowned out by the sound of blaring alarms from inside the heli.

"All stations- Razor-1 is bracketed," the pilot chimes in. "We're getting lit! Incoming- Flares! Flares!"

Your heart sinks, your insides shifting and moving like waves in the ocean at every quick sway and dive the helicopter took in its evasive actions. Helplessly, you sit, not even able to see the enemies that fired upon you, bitter to not even of had the chance to step foot on the ground yet before this happened.

You all grab hold of your seats, doing what you can to remain stable. The heli sways, the sounds of flares deploying outside ripping through the rocket fire. The flight settles and a few seconds go by. It isn't until the warning alarms have been silenced that you finally release a breath of relief.

A narrow dodge.

But then, it shifts again, only this time you're not so lucky.

There's a loud crashing noise, followed by the erupting pop of an explosion, as it twist the metal of your helicopter, tearing it open.

"Razor 1 going down!" The pilot shouts. "We're going down!"

You watch in horror as one of the marines is sucked out of the hole, screaming the entire way out as they're eaten alive by the flames of your crashing coffin. You see the dark world outside painted in the passing glare of gunfire, spinning around you, your helicopter falling from the sky.

You clutch onto the straps to your seat and brace yourself for impact. Closing your eyes, you hold your breath and simply await the inevitable, doing your best to be ready. Just as you've been trying all night.

Metal and fire twists around you in a loud hurricane of booms and clashes, before all sense of the world around you became nothing but a cold, quiet air.

Dark.

An endless void.

You're not sure why, but the first thing that came to mind was Soap. You hadn't wanted to think of the horror he must be experiencing having just watched you get shot out of the sky. What flurry of emotions now twisted in him because of you.

So instead, you thought of him as he was before. Of his smiles, his eyes, the warmth of his embrace and the safety you felt with his words, even if he promised the impossible. You'd give anything to have John by your side now.

You still needed to tell him your name.

To Be Continued...

[padfootagain]

Where We Kept Our Magic (III)

How We Met Again

Hello lovelies! Here is a second part for my Muggle!Reader AU!! I hope you like this new scene, tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter

Summary: You and Sirius meet when you’re still young, and yet you fall head over heels for each other. But everything gets complicated when you learn that Sirius is a Wizard! Now, your whole world has to be reimagined. -This series is made of many independent snippets taken from Sirius and Muggle!Reader’s lovestory –

Word Count : 2175

Masterlist for the series - Sirius Black's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

A couple of weeks have passed, and Sirius misses you. And he hates it. He is surprised by it, too. The feeling has come out of the blue, unexpected and unwanted as it settled in his ribcage, carved his way into his heart.

He doesn’t understand it at all. He’s had only a couple of dates with you, spent two afternoons in your company, and this evening at the concert. He doesn’t know that much about you. He doesn’t know how you drink your tea, what you eat for breakfast, the colour of your eyes under the rain. And it’s making things worse, because he wants to know. He longs to ask you what’s your favourite flower and your favourite colour and how you drink your coffee…

And whenever he closes his eyes, he sees yours, wide open, so close to him, staring into his soul. And he can taste your lips on his tongue again, smell your perfume in the air…

He huffs, annoyed. He’s being ridiculous. You weren’t even together, you’ve shared a few hours and a kiss. You weren’t even his first kiss. Was he yours?

He pushes the thought away, sits up as if it’ll help his brain thinking other thoughts. It doesn’t.

“If I hear you sigh one more time, Pads, I’ll hex you so hard you’ll be sent to Antarctica.”

“You really do have to hang out less with Evans, you’re stealing her silly threats now.”

“I want to punch you in the face so hard.”

“Better, sounds more like you.”

In James’s bedroom, the sun pours in golden hues, fresh and clean and too warm. It almost burns, despite its travel through the windowpane.

Sirius is sitting on the ground, and James is splayed on his bed, a novel in his hand that he disregards in favour of his best friend.

“You really have to see her again.”

“Why? She doesn’t want to see me.”

“She doesn’t want a fling. She literally wants to see you too much for the two of you to be a meaningless fling.”

“And that’s impossible. We’ve been through this already.”

“Clearly we need to go through this one more time, because you’re still mopping…”

“I am not…”

“You are. You miss her.”

Sirius remains quiet, his back resting against James’s bed.

“You should try to see her again.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to look, I don’t know her address.”

“As if it could stop the Marauders.”

Sirius can’t refrain a tender smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. You three are as mad as I am.”

“That’s why you love us so much!” James laughs, nudging Sirius with his knee.

“Fuck off, or I’ll break your kneecaps!”

“And risk mom’s wrath? I believe you.”

Sirius merely chuckles, hiding behind a snicker the way his heart inflated with fondness. James isn’t calling Euphemia his mother anymore, but their mom. True brothers…

“She’s a muggle. We’ll leave for Hogwarts in a couple of months and…”

“Yes, I know,” James rolled his eyes. “You kind of repeat yourself these days.”

“It would be too complicated.”

“Perhaps she’s worth the complication.”

“That comes from a guy who definitely likes complications when it comes to girls…”

Sirius doesn’t finish his sentence, he’s hit by a pillow instead.

“Anyway, what I was saying is… you should try anyway. You’re missing her already.”

“That’s the whole point… what if I fall for her? Like… really fall for her?”

“Your life will get immensely more complicated. And you’ll love every second of it.”

“You and your bloody romantic antics…”

“Ha, yes, I had forgotten how our good old Padfoot is full of cynicism these days.”

Sirius checks the time, and he’s happy to offer a distraction from the current conversation. After all, James and he have to hurry up if they don’t want to be late to meet Remus and Peter at Green Park.

Still, when he’s tying his shoes, he’s still thinking about that smile of yours.

Summer is too warm this year, you wish for a fresh breeze to cool your skin, your head and your heart.

You’re still thinking about Sirius. You haven’t said a word of it to Jackie, besides telling her that it was over, that you were right and that Sirius didn’t want anything serious. It was hopeless, it would remain a silly crush on a stranger at a concert.

Your heart has other plans though. Because it aches just thinking about him. You can feel his lips on yours and your skin burns at the memory. You see his stormy eyes over and over again at night.

You miss him. You hate that fact, but you can’t deny the truth of it. You miss him, you want to see him again. Even if it means getting your life immensely complicated, even if it means letting him break your heart.

You don’t talk about it, though. What would be the point, anyway? Instead, you merely look sadder than usual, look at the sun through your sunglasses even if you shouldn’t, and try to breathe despite the longing in your chest.

Jackie has managed to drag you to Green Park, despite your terrible mood. She even managed to make you laugh, God knows how. You’re thankful for it, even if you hate it.

You’re lying in the grass, Jackie by your side is reading while you look through the branches at the blue sky and the burning sun. Your world is tainted pink by your sunglasses. You love it.

The park is busy, but you don’t mind. The unregular noises around you are numbed by the grass under you, the branches swaying gently, the superposition and mingling of voices. In the end, you barely notice the noise at all.

And it’s all relaxing, and for the first time in two weeks, your mind wanders not towards Sirius’s grey eyes but the shape of the leaves above you and you wonder how soft they can be up there, caressed only by the wind, before their fall.

Your quiet thoughts are interrupted though, by a frisbee landing right onto your stomach. You’re startled as it passes before your face and the next second rests on your abdomen; you let out a little shriek, that makes Jackie jump as well.

You sit up in a hurry, fumbling with the plastic toy. Damn, what kind of idiotic twat is clumsy enough to throw their frisbee on people…

You turn around, ready to throw hands with the culprit… when you’re left blinking instead.

A boy in a dark t-shirt is running towards you, freezing as he recognizes you.

Bullocks…

“Y/N?”

Sirius blinks. Once, twice, thrice, but you’re still here, sitting in the grass. He can’t help the smile that forms on his lips.

You look so beautiful, so adorable with your pink glasses…

“I…”

You look down at the frisbee, hand it over to him in a hurry without meeting his eyes.

“Oh, yeah… sorry about that. James is terrible at this game. He’s wearing his glasses, and still can’t aim for shit.”

His attempt at humour is met by a heavy silence and a terrible drop of his heart.

He looks down, cheeks burning, and not only because of his run. He takes the frisbee with a quiet thanks and is ready to walk away again when…

“Hey! Isn’t that your girl, Padfoot?”

You see Sirius wincing as a tall boy with glasses runs to him, half jumping on Sirius’s back as he comes to a stop by his side.

He shoots you and Jackie a grin.

“Hi! I’m James! And you must be Y/N!”

You nod, but can’t seem to find your voice. Jackie introduces herself, struggling not to laugh at you as you steal glances towards Sirius but look away every time his eyes meet yours. Meanwhile, Remus and Peter have joined the small group, introduced themselves, and are now quietly laughing at Sirius’s flushed cheeks, along with the fact that he can’t look away from you.

He's missed you. So terribly. He was a fool. He wants you so badly. He can recall the taste of your lips, and he longs for it now more than ever.

But he shakes himself out of his trance as he hears Remus asking if they can join you and your friend.

“These idiots have never played frisbee before, and I’m tired of trying to teach them. They’re desperate cases, at this point.”

“Thanks, Moony,” James mumbles under his breath, along with something about talent and a weird word… quid… something. You guess it must be a Scottish sport, as Sirius said he went to school there.

Why is he going to a school so far from home though?

You shake yourself. You don’t care. You don’t care about Sirius, about his friends, about their school, or about how the sun shines on Sirius’s magnificent eyelashes. You are about to decline the offer when Jackie grins and accepts… the traitor…

And you hate the rest of this afternoon. You hate it because everything goes smoothly. Sirius’s friends are a little weird but hilarious and nice. And Sirius is a little quieter than usual, but you’ve noticed the way his eyes linger on you, the way he can’t help staring…

And you hate it because you long for his gaze on you. Because you let your eyes drift towards his frame too. Because you feel happy and excited now that he’s near again. Because you want to kiss the cigarette taste away from his lips as he puffs out some smoke.

He catches you smiling dreamily as you look at his earing shining in the summer sun, and you hate the smirk that forms across his features as you shy away under his stare.

Damn, this charming boy…

And the afternoon passes too quickly, too soon already the sun has begun setting, and the park is about to close. You need to go home, and you don’t want to. You need to say farewell to Sirius all over again, and you don’t want to. And you hate him for that…

But as you’re about to part, about to say goodbye to turn around and never see him again, Sirius reaches for your hand, stare too intense to let you escape.

“Can we talk? Just for a minute?”

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, but nod anyway.

And you hate the look Jackie throws at you, the knowing kind. You hate everything about today. You hate the softness of Sirius’s palm, the gentleness of his hold as he pulls you away from the group, the warmth of his skin spreading under yours.

You hate everything about him. You hate him… you hate him…

When he turns around, a wild strand of hair swings across his cheek, escaping from his bun, and you hate it too. You hate how good he looks right now, how you long to reach out and brush the hair behind his ear…

“Can I be brutally honest?”

He stares at you intensely again, and there’s confidence in his stature, in the way he leans towards you, in the urgency of his tone. Still, his voice trembles.

“Sure, go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath.

“I want you.”

Your eyes grow round at that, and you hate him. You hate him because you like hearing these words coming from his mouth, because you want nothing but to kiss him…

“I know that last time we… we decided not to see each other again, but… the truth is, I want you. And I… I want us to give it a shot.”

“Sirius, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know, but…”

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“I have.”

You stop breathing altogether, your heart skips a few beats, and you hate it. You hate it so much you want to cry.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want to try this.”

“Are you playing with me?”

“No, I’m not.”

And you hate the fact that you can read in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“I want to try. I like you. A lot. And… these past couple of weeks… and seeing you again today, I’ve realized… I want to give this a try. Let’s go on another date.”

“But Sirius…”

“Give me another chance,” he interrupts you, taking a step closer. “Please… please give me another chance.”

And you want to say no. You want to slap him and you hate him because you’ve been hoping, dreaming of this moment even, and desperately so. And you hate yourself because you want to say yes, and you can’t help the words that pass your lips even if they’re so unbearably unwise.

“Okay,” you nod. “But you won’t get a third.”

He grins.

“Friday?”

Slowly, you nod.

“Friday.”

Before you can ask where you will meet, Sirius has reached up to cup your face, and has crushed his lips to yours.

And as you lose your fingers through his hair and melt into his arms, you love every second of it…

*************************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @hells-escapees @cloudbroomblog @omgrachwrites

[eoieopda]

hi jade! for the drabblepalooza, i wanted to request 'seven' by taylor swift and jin ^_^

here you go, my love 🦋

listen here

cw: angst, reference to character death (OC’s father,) funeral mention, implied childhood abuse (not depicted, not discussed in any detail,) alcohol consumption

sweet tea in the summer / cross your heart, won’t tell no other / and though i can’t recall your face / i still got love for you

You only came home for weddings and funerals. As time trudged on, the former became few and far between. Like you, the majority of your childhood friends left the second they were old enough to do so. Unlike you, the ones who hadn’t had tied that knot already.

The latter, on the other hand, had become more and more common over the years. They seemed to pile up, too. Former neighbors, past teachers, and extended family that didn’t stay in touch - like candles snuffed out, one right after the other.

Prompting train ride, after train ride, after train ride…

Eventually, you would run out of people to make this trip over. Though you felt terrible for thinking it, there was some comfort to be found in that. It was macabre, sure, but a relief nonetheless to picture yourself free of this place. To get rid of those skeletons swaying like windchimes in your closet.

This one, you decided, would be your last hatchet to bury.

It was funny - in some sick, sad way - that the reason you left town in the first place was what prompted your return. None of your friends could wrap their minds around your decision to go back to the start, but if you were being honest, you didn’t fully understand it, either.

Was it really closure that you were seeking? Or was it that inexplicable sense of obligation you could never quite shake? That lingering, undeserved loyalty gnawed at you, pushing and pulling until it dragged you all the way home.

Whatever it was, you hoped to discard it alongside your father in that hole in the ground. Then, you could finally wash your hands of all the dirt you felt but couldn’t see.

Having arrived back in town the night before his memorial service, you had time to kill. Without anyone to kill it with, you opted to burn moonlight at the local dive. There, drinks were cheap and conversation was easy to find. like always, both would be mediocre at best.

It wasn’t crowded when you first arrived, but the night would pick up speed sooner or later, you figured. Before the rush came, you snagged a prime stool at the bar. Sinking down, you greeted the bartender whose name you never learned; and you downed the complimentary shot of soju he’d slid your way upon recognizing you.

Lonely and now slightly buzzed, even your own mind failed to keep you company. It wandered back in time, giving you no choice but to follow.

“You can just stay here! We can sleep in the tree house for now, and when it gets cold outside, we can re-make the pillow fort in the basement!” He spoke so quickly, you nearly had to run to keep up.

You’d never forget that neighbor boy’s face, but his name had gotten lost over the years. Your memories were littered with potholes - little dips and hazards - and you hated that your hero’s identity had slipped through the cracks.

Your face scrunched up in thought as you considered his proposition. If you ran away for good this time, could you bring your dolls with you? He always said dolls were for babies, but they weren’t any different than his action figures.

You scrubbed your hands over your face, not thinking twice about the condensation you transferred from your half-empty glass to your flushed cheeks. Surely, that vodka soda wouldn’t do a thing to jog your memory. It did, however, reinforce the warmth you felt when you pictured the house at the end of your street.

Fuck!

You could recall every other detail about him. A gangly thing, he moved like a baby deer on long limbs he wasn’t used to yet. And he would whistle at you through the hole his baby tooth left behind. Front of his mouth, on your right.

He lived with his parents and older brother in a cream-colored house. It had charcoal grey shutters; a basketball hoop in the driveway; and a swing set in the backyard that you were never brave enough to jump from. He was, but that wasn’t surprising - then or now.

That boy didn’t push you when you paused. He didn’t tease you, even when you expected him to. He was kind in a way that only little kids seemed to be, so willing to share all of his earthly possessions and his sack lunch, too.

“Is your house haunted?” You asked in a whisper, as if the ghosts in yours could hear you from up the street.

He chewed on his puffy bottom lip for a moment, then he shook his head firmly.

You had to ask. The two of you had to make sure your escape plan covered every possibility; this was the worst of them. Even more quietly, you continued: “What if mine follow me and make your dad mad, too?”

His reply came easily, just like every other solution he found for your problems. “Then we’ll go be pirates! I don’t think ghosts can get on pirate ships, but we can ask my brother about it when he gets home.”

You were sure you loved him back then. You loved him still, for all the little ways he saved you. That neighbor boy deserved to be remembered fully, even though you moved away the following year. He may have slipped out of your life then, but his impact on it was lasting.

The fog in your brain was getting denser the harder you tried to wade through it. Perhaps if you slept on it, his name would come back to you in a dream. Whoever he was, you hoped he was happy. That his path forward wasn’t as obscured as yours.

After closing your tab, you steered yourself towards the front door. It chimed when you opened it, and it chimed again immediately when your shoulder knocked into it.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” He yelped, steadying you with one hand on each of your arms. “You alright?”

You blinked up at that clumsy stranger for longer than you meant to. Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on what that might be.

A former classmate, maybe? A guest at a previous wedding or funeral?

You cleared your throat and smiled when you finally answered, “I’ll be okay! Did I hurt you?”

He towered over you, so you had to crane your neck to look up at him. He chewed on his plush lower lip for a moment, playing it up as if he was deep in thought. With a twinkle now appearing in his eye, he shook his head firmly. “Not a bit.”

His hands dropped from your arms as soon as he remembered he was still holding you. Shooting you a sheepish smile, he rattled off his next words without pausing to breathe: “Sorry, again. I hope you can enjoy the rest of your night without getting bulldozed by another stranger!”

You waved with a quiet chuckle and watched as that tall, kind man slipped away.

[incorrecttowerofgodquotes]

Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Season 2 Episode 3 Review

- i am not okay

- Watching Nika get beat up was horrible. While I understand Norea’s grief, she’s directing it at the wrong person. She hasn’t even realized that it was Shaddiq and her own actions that led to the camp being attacked, not Nika’s. Nika and Norea have opposing view points, Nika believes violence is wrong while Norea thinks violence is the only way. It’s two sets of extremes that do nothing but drag on conflict. Chuchu, funnily enough, is the more healthy middle ground. Ready to take action against injustice, but also willing to throw aside personal grudges and protect others.

- Honestly wondering where Norea will go from here. I still think she’ll bond with El5n, but I’m starting to question whether she’ll be able to break out of her revenge-driven mindset or if she’ll just become another casualty

- Shaddiq is revealed to be Earthian, half at least, to almost no one’s surprise. His plan of “give the weapons to the right people” is so fucking stupid. Earth is already extremely unstable, and making them weapon manufacturers will just make it worst. Once the Earthians lose the Spacians as enemies (but they’ll never truly be lost) then they’ll just turn on each other because there’s nowhere else for all that hate and instability to go to. Instead, Shaddiq should be using the billions the Benerit Group holds to enter a mutually beneficial relationship with Earth and build the infrastructure and support needed.

- Also wondering why his harem keeps following him around. Are they Earthians too? Or does he just have so much rizz that they can overlook murder?

- Finally, because I can’t keep pushing it off, let’s travel to Earth (in a space elevator that exists apparently)

- Olcott was someone I thought would just be a named mook, but in one episode I already love him. The backstory about him being a Domnicus pilot who later defected to Earth after losing his family is definitely meant to mirror Guel’s character. Even if he tries to act like he’s burned away all his attachments, he still watches over the kids, Guel included, and makes it his duty to protect them. I don’t see him living to the end, but I hope he becomes a nice mentor figure to Guel. Also I bet there’s gonna be a fight between him and Kenanji.

- Guel… My son… My light… My love… You are locked in a toilet. What a shitty situation

- My son has hit absolute rock bottom and yet the show writers handed him a pickaxe and forced him to keep digging. Seeing him just lose the will to live was heartbreaking, but what was even more gut wrenching was seeing him immediately start reacting the moment he heard about the troubles the Jeturk company was facing. He already lost his dad, the most important person in his life, but he still has the rest of his family. Lauda, Felsi, Petra, and the rest of the Jeturk house are all his family, and he doesn’t want to lose them anymore

- The moments with Guel after the school collapses however are truly the best in the series though. It’s a bit of a freeze frame, but you can seem him move to protect the children when the roof is collapsing. And when Seethia, the little girl who yelled at him to die and give her back her father, starts crying for her papa, he gains the will to love again and moves to save her from her grim fate.

- He takes flight in a beat up suit, looking for anywhere to keep this little girl, someone who reminds him so much of himself, from dying. Bathed in dawn’s light, he moves forward to protect an innocent soul who had already lost so much. But he was too late. That young life died in his arms, and all he can do for her now is dig a grave and lay her to rest. The innocent child inside Guel has died, but as the sun rises over the horizon, he does too. Ready to protect what’s dearest to him now. Vowing to never lose anyone ever again. And god damn it I’m crying

- I don’t know exactly where Guel will go now. I want him to stick with Dawn of Fold for a while, but his ultimate goal is to return to his family in space. However, will he seek revenge? Shaddiq, the one responsible for causing him so much pain, is still alive, but will Guel let himself be consumed by the fires of revenge like Norea or will he move past it? Whether he ends up killing Shaddiq or forgiving him, I will be on his side to the very end.

- Now back to space through the magic elevator

- Shout out to Rajah for being one of the few adults to give sound advice. There definitely seems to be a difference between the adults who use children for their own gain (Vim, Peil, and Prospera) versus those who want to support the children and let them become the new leaders (Rajah, Belmeria, and the pilot lady)

- Learning about more about the actions Delling has taken really deepens his character, and turns his speech in the Prologue from empty words to a promise he holds resolutely within himself. He believes war will never end, and so he instead sets out to create his own wars and keep them to a limited sphere. But also he’s done is build up resentment.

- I’m kinda sus of Miorine’s mom now. Maybe she’s the real witch we’ve been looking for? There’s a lot of fucked up shit in the floral kingdom, and the one that I’m going with is fungal takeover. Im not dropping my hivemind theory. EVERYONE WILL BE FAMILY WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT!

- Now Miorine has to choose for herself. Will she follow after her mother like Suletta? Or will she become her own self?

Next episode might be Prospera and Eri backstory, and I’m not gonna be ready for it. Can I have a glimpse of my Earth House babies or El5n to fill my stomach instead?

Also RIP Philip. Gone too soon.

[fluffypotatey]

Leverage Ep 11 >:3

Pre-game thoughts:

ngl the last episode was a lot of fun! got to see Nate at his breaking point, Sophie being the best (as always), ALEC AND ELIOT DUO!!!!!

also it looks like this one focuses on Parker? (at least, that’s what the blurb says 🤷🏻‍♀️) so praying for more moments for my ot3 🥰 either as duos or altogether, I do not care. just want them to have screen time 

anyway, can’t really think of anything else to add???

I mean, this is the last episode before the 2-parter finale, so I’m curious if this will touch on…..the ✨insurance company✨and that uh Crowley-looking dude (unrelated to GO!Crowley, a show I should also watch)

BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT ON WITH THE SHOW ✨ 

Reaction:

ooooooh a flashback 👀

Ok that was not a safe dose

AHHHHHH THE STOVE

NOOOOOOOOO ERNESTO

is he dead?????

oooooooooh team drama 👀

lmaooooo parents (Nate/Sophie) using jury duty as a lesson

“Yeah, I know jury duty, this seems legit” <- has only gone once

OooooOOOoooooOoOooh defendant is wearing colored shades, he must be an asshole 😂

WAIT WHAT

WHO IS FILMING THE CASE???? IS THAT LEGAL????

babe, please step the fuck away from the jury panel. i would not be in favor of you anyways with you standing so close wtf

oop! she knows!!! fuck they’re gonna strike her out 

ok but seriously who are those camera people???? are they even a real legal team???? the ick is strong, I hope they burn this other team to the ground

YES PARKER

CONVINCE THEM

SHUT NATE YOU WERE A SLIMY INSURANCE MAN BEFORE YOU DONT GET TO TALK

everybody giving Nate the stink eye, yesssssssssss 

(You would think, with how much I yell at this man, I hate him, but tis the opposite! Love him. He’s just an asshole, and I would never like him in person, great character <3)

OMFG ALEC BACKSTORY??????

YES PLEASE

NANA YOU BADASS

ELIOT AND PARKER DUOOOOOO

FUCK YES

Lmao he took the beer

literally before clicking play I was like “you know, I don’t think Parker and Eliot have been a duo yet” AND HERE WE GO

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

nO glasses guy 🫢 was a faker?! <- is not shocked

jfc Alec is good 😍

ok what you doing Parker? oh wait nvm 

Chess???? lmao you nerd

“Hmmmm how do we show an evil character is smart…..I KNOW! Chess!”

ohhhhhh big pharma ok (can’t believe it took me this long)

WAIT WE DOING POISONED APPLE

ugh no we’re not

oh shit bribery????

ELIOT PLAYS CHESS???? you fucking nerd 💕

lmao Parker gets a lesson in social interaction (I’m so sorry, girlie, I’d hate it too, but tbh I also befriended an older lady while at jury duty so same????)

it’s ok Parker you tried your best 🫂

“I have a peanut allergy” <- love you Alec 

Nate, I sure hope you don’t regret that honeypot plan

OHHHHHHHHH oh dear ok now the brownface comments make sense

Ok show’s age has been shown

jfc Sophie wtf please tell me this is the only episode where this happened 

“I’m very spiritual” <- 🤢 god how many times have I heard this

Jesus H Christ I can’t even look at her T^T

awwwww Sophie is helping Parker

ELIOT YOU ARE SO CUTE

HES TRYING

PARKER YOU CUTIE 🥰 

i want Parker and the grandma to be friends. Like best friends

lmaooooooo she’s foreman now (I don’t think I spelled that right)

girlie, you sound like you’re giving the old man a job interview 😂

SHE GONNA BUY OUT THE LAWYER???? 

He won’t

Nate noooooooooo

ALEC

YES

MY BOY

HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN A SUIT

but also shit they are treading the legality there (<- she says even tho they do this every episode)

“Do you trust your government, Ms. Vargas?” ALEC 😂😂😂😂 bringing back the old teachings of being a Jehova Witness i see

WE ARE BARELY HALFWAY?????? (Sorry just looked at the time stamp  what do you mean it’s only been 20 minutes????)

“is that a high school yearbook?” oh my god

Alec, babe, love you, but what

ALEC I LOVE YOU

girlie you could say cauliflower steak

Awwwwwwwwwwww Parker has a friend 🤧🤧🤧🤧

Alec’s headshot is beautiful 

“It all checks out unless [says an example of exactly what Alec did]”

Ooooooh outsource mention 👀 

Nate there are cameras!!!!

“You know why they say, ‘Justice has a blindfold’? Because Justice is asleep” FUCKING DEAD

ok bro this isn’t jury duty anymore this is a trial???? did I miss the part where they finished jury selection 

OH SO HE’S AN ACTOR???

lmaooooo he was Scottish 

Awwwwwwwww Parker 🥺 “she likes rainy days” im fucking sobbing

Ok now that’s why we were only halfway 

“We win the trial” LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO

Hehe Alec has to actually win the trial

“You think lawyers aren’t just pretending and trying to fill in daddy’s shoes” ok, uh, wow 💔 

SHE GOT A BAG LUNCH 🥺🤧

Eliot on another parents trip!!!

wait who is he fighting???? Oh ok

Nate, you look so fucking dumb 😂

*gasp* THAT MEDICAL MAN IS LYING FIGHT HIM ALEC

oh ho ho! bringing up his qualifications I see 👀 why he now only doing cases in Cali 👀

OH HO 👀

HE BROUGHT UP BIN LADEN 👀

GET HIS ASS ALEC! FUCK HIM UP!!! FUCK! HIM! UP!

Alex’s closing statement 👀 omg 🥺 yes babe 🤧 beautiful 💐 take my flowers 💐💐💐💐💐

jfc I’m nervous!!!! I know this will end happy but still!!!! So nervous 🫠

nooooo, she must not figure out 🫠

Oh dear, 

OH YES THEY TURNED OFF THE TV WONDERFUL

lol yesssss girlie, burn that fucking bridge!!!! BURN THE BRIDGE!!!! DIG THAT HOLE!!!!

unrelated but her jacket is super pretty

ok ok here we go. fuck I’m nervous 

YESSSSS LETS GO BITCH

FUCK YEAH MESS WITH THEIR CAMERA

why are you revealing yourself to her????? bro she could find people to get you!!!!

OMG SHE MADE A FRIEND! GET THAT COFFEE

Final Thoughts:

this episode was so much fun!!!! we may not have gotten much of the Parker/Eliot duo but I’m still happy that they got to tag-team! Parker learning how to socialize, be a team player, and lead was just 👌👌👌👌👌👌 wonderful so proud of her T^T Alec was amazing (obviously) and fucking killed both for stalling the case and winning it <3

not as much Nate/Sophie moments besides them acting like parents to their teammates and being a well-oiled machine 😎 so I’m still satisfied! a little disappointed that there wasn’t any hint for the finale but that might just be because of the messed up order again 😔 

overall: wonderful episode, this might be my favorite of the season (tho Miracle Job still has my heart)

[the-masked-ram]

Blurred Lines- Chapter Two

CW: NSFW, College AU, Roommate AU, Dom/Sub Undertones, Gambling, Friends with Benefits, Enemies to friends, Hate sex, Impact play, Mild Breath play, Drugs, Alcohol, afab! reader

---

Chapter Two: Ground Rules

The apartment was amazing honestly. It definitely needed cleaning; it looked like an upscale bachelor pad. There were old food containers, dirty clothes lying around, and you didn’t want to know when he last dusted. But it wasn’t too much for you. You’d roomed with people, paid for places that were far more of a dump than this. You could see everything waiting for you underneath the mess.

The visit to the apartment made you eager to sign the lease. You couldn’t figure out why Touya seemed so happy with it. If he could afford a place like this, couldn’t he afford a maid service? But you wouldn’t question it anymore. You couldn’t afford to. This was your golden ticket to surviving college.

Two weeks later, after signing your lease, you were moving in. Heavy boxes weighed your arms as you climbed the stairs over and over. Your new roommate was nowhere to be seen after letting you inside, doing no more than pressing your shiny new key into your hand and walking off into the depths of the apartment. A glare found its way onto your face quickly. The only hope you had of moving the larger items was that Bakugou and Kirishima had offered to help.

You couldn’t let them help any more than that, despite their offers to help you finish. Your peace of mind would have forced you to thank them by buying food or paying them for their time, neither of which you could do right now. So, with a tight smile you waved them away as they reluctantly loaded up and you finished moving the boxes up far too many flights of stairs yourself.

By the end you were exhausted. Sweating badly despite the shorts and thin tank top you wore. However, all you could think of was how you were now moved into your new place, you were home. You had a key of your own, and the boxes filling your new room gave you a sense of renewal. Like this was a fresh start. With a deep breath you started the slow process of unloading your clothes. So right now, it was just you and some music to keep you company as you put stuff away until it was time for work. It wasn’t until an hour had likely passed, and you were far into unpacking, singing at the top of your lungs and still relatively poorly dressed in those cheeky shorts and that small tank top, that you heard the clearing of his throat. You started, blinking as you glanced over to Touya leaning lazily against your doorframe. His eyes lingering on your legs.

His gaze didn’t move, though he had to notice your attention on him. It lingered like a burning flame, stroking across your exposed skin. It caused goosebumps to rise and your stomach to squirm. Your bare foot hooked around your ankle as you tried to catch his attention another way. You cleared your throat and slowly, so achingly slow, his blue gaze flickered up your body, you duck your head nervously and murmured, “Ah, Todoroki. Sorry, was I loud?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Alright, first thing, call me Touya, I fucking hate my family name.” He shoved off the frame and stalked into your room, you immediately stepped back as he said, “Next thing, we should go over some house rules and a schedule for when you can and can’t do things.”

He didn’t answer your question, but you wondered if perhaps the fact your music had been cranked up to an ungodly level had been exactly what prompted his desire for the ‘rules’ talk. You shivered in front of him, but it wasn’t from fear, it was from the way his eyes wouldn’t leave you. It was from the way they seemed to be snagging your soul and ripping it out through your chest. He was too much to look at like this. You couldn’t be this close to him. It felt like all the air was taken from the room. Like he was taking up the entire space. So, you did the only thing you could do, you nodded desperately, eyes wide, unable to glance away from him for a second. Unable to even blink. “Fucking cute,” he mumbled with an appreciative smirk curling his pierced lips.

He turned on his heel and left, only stopping long enough to glance back over his shoulder at you and tap his knuckle on the doorway. Once he was gone it was like a crushing weight on your chest was swept away too. You gasped in air greedily. Geeze, what was it about that man? Touya seemed to exert this oppressive pressure whenever he was in the room. You were never able to look away nor directly at him, or get near him, and he liked to push your boundaries in the most delicious way.

A way that had your thighs squeezing and your walls fluttering. Slick lined your panties, and you hated it, hated that somehow knew just how much you lusted for his gaze despite the way it made you nearly turn inside out. You also dreaded the fact that you now needed to face him after making such a fool of yourself. He was sitting on a recliner when you walked into the living room, one foot brushing the floor while the other was flung lazily over the arm. Scrolling through his phone with a look of disinterest, he glanced up once you entered, but took his time giving you his full attention, as he started typing something. You weren’t as irked as when he hadn’t been there to help unload. Though you weren’t sure if you had the right to be upset about that. He had never said he would do that. Perhaps you should feel more upset now, especially since he’d called you out here to talk to you. But also, this gave you a moment to observe him. It gave you a moment to get used to his presence without feeling suffocated.

So, you perched on the edge of the couch, waiting for him to finish, and glancing around at the sparse living room.

“You look like you’re about to take off at any time, like you might break. Like a little porcelain doll,” he let that word sit and roll over your spine, until you finally chanced a momentary glance at him. “Relax, babe. Nothing bad is gonna happen.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, but avoided looking at him directly for too long, which only made his grin turn into a lopsided smirk. He knew just like you did that your moment of bravery was a bluff. His eyes raked your form with languid heat, his tongue slipping out to roll over his lip ring. You wondered how that tongue would taste? Immediately balking at how eagerly your lust laden thoughts had turn salacious. “Alright, little thing, you said you work Monday for six hours and then another ten hours the rest of the week spread out. Otherwise, it’s just your night classes?” the way his tone turned sharp and business-like had you snapping to attention, focusing on his words intently. You nodded, “Yeah, and I can cook your dinner ahead of time on nights I may be gone, to you know have some homemade pre-frozen meals, in case you didn’t want to order.” Your hand rubbed across the flesh of your thigh over and over, dimpling the flesh. Touya’s eyes drifted downward to follow the movement with a lazy intensity you didn’t think was possible. Your fingers curled into your palm and your nervous tick stopped almost instantaneously. He chuckled before turning back to the matter at hand. “Well, aren’t you helpful?” he patronized. “That’s very sweet. But I figured you’d make me lunch for every day of the week, and then three to five nights a week you could do dinner based on your schedule. I don’t eat breakfast.” Your eyes darted to the side only to then slide towards him under lowered lashes, hoping to shield yourself from the way he was staring at you, and nodded, “Ok. And I’ll do your laundry and keep this place spotless.” His grin stretched, “Don’t promise things that are impossible, babe.” Sighing, he leaned his head back on his shoulders before fixing you with a harsh and serious gaze. His relaxed posture changed, everything in him stiffened and he narrowed his eyes at you. There was something in him that changed from a relaxed predator to a dangerous beast. He was vicious right now, whatever he said next, he wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “W-what?” you asked, fidgeting. “Now to go over the rules. These are blanket rules and will affect both of us. Always knock-on bedroom doors and bathroom doors before entering, first one up makes the coffee, label your food if you don’t want it eaten, if you break it you replace it. This one is my personal rule for you, don’t come out of your room when I have a party,” he nearly snarled the last one and you saw a glimmer of how dangerous Touya could be if you crossed the line. You blinked, your jaw working around silent words trying to find an answer but unable to at the finality of his tone and the restrictions it put on you. “Why?” you asked. You didn’t argue, you just wanted a reason. You couldn’t argue with the way he stared at you, his blue gaze squinting, and his lip curled in a sneer. “I will give you a day’s notice before I hold a party at least, and if you need something all you have to do is text me,” he said, completely ignoring the question.

But you knew he heard it, had seen the way his jaw flexed at the single word. He didn’t like being questioned when it came to this. All you could do was swallow, the cool way he led the conversation had you nodding in agreement. His pleased expression made you realized what you had just agreed to. He’d have complete control over the household if you kept acting like a meek little mouse. “I knew you were perfect for this. Perfect to be here with me,” he murmured, the smirk pulling at his lips again. His eyes swept over you once more, lingering in places that only lover’s should indulge in. Once again, the stiffness left his muscles, and he was back to reminding you of a lazy cat. A big one though, like a lion out in the sun just waiting for it to cool off before it hunted. Before it became an issue and made a meal of you. Touya was dangerous, you just didn’t know why. Embarrassment flooded through you, nerves took over, and quickly rushed from the room. He cackled behind you and the sound followed you all the way to your room. Just who was Touya? Maybe it was time to keep an eye open on campus.

-Taglist- @arvandus

---- If you want to read up to chapter 4 of Blurred Lines (before it's all rewritten), want to get early access, or want some special original content check out my patreon! Link

[lya-dustin]

Cupid kills with arrows

Chapter 4

Cw: mentions of past child abuse and exploitation

Gif by @lady-crumplebottom

Aemond finds himself awoken by the whispering of the handmaidens tasked with caring for them.

“Her grace needs the sheets.” Talya whispers and gestured to the sleeping maiden he’s disappointed within the first six hours of marriage. “The Council needs proof.”

Of what?

That Aemond was not man enough to take his own wife’s maidenhead?

That the throne may as well go to Jacaerys because Aegon fucked him up so bad that he doesn’t know if he could ever bed Aemma?

“I will speak to my mother about the matter, Talya. Let Princess Aemma sleep in, I ruined her wedding night anyways.” He dismissed her and began to ready himself for the day.

They are supposed to leave for the royal hunting lodge where the newlyweds are expected to do nothing but fuck and enjoy their company away from everyone for an entire moon.

A new thing done especially for them because their mothers need them to have a happy marriage and a child for it to work.

Until last night, Aemond had been all for it. To have his Aemee to himself for an entire moon and make her know she had not made a mistake marrying him.

All that shattered in one moment.

What a fucking mess it had become.

Aemond finds her awake, not bothering to move from the bed as Talya quietly demanded the fucking sheets and left exactly as he had left her.

“What is there to tell the queen? If she want the sheets, she can come get them herself.” Aemma snapped at the handmaiden who had forgotten willfulness is a trait every Targaryen is born with.

It would be humiliating, for her and for him. Her for not enticing her husband enough, he for not being able to fuck his wife.

He can hear it now, gods, he’s never hated Aegon more.

“What do you mean nothing happened?” Alicent asked in a whisper as Talya confirmed what the lack of sounds indicated last night.

“He blamed the wine, your highness.” The handmaiden answered knowing he had lied.

This was not good.

The only reason this marriage was permitted by her father was because it would ensure their blood would be on the throne no matter what happened.

The only way to stop Otto Hightower ---a man who has never known war and yet craves it--- from starting burning Westeros to the ground to put Aegon on Rhaenyra’s Throne.

They needed Aemond to sire sons on Rhaenyra’s impertinent and willful daughter more than they needed to make nice with the Blacks.

They needed to keep this a secret from her father.

Speaking of the Stranger.

“Your son has proven to be just as much as a disappointment as your elder children, daughter. It is bad enough the court knows he is a man-maiden, but even Laenor Velaryon managed to bed his whore of a wife and get her with child.”

Otto Hightower had never truly been a good father, mother had softened him, but when she died and Myles and Gwayne left to Oldtown, Alicent was left alone with him.

When she failed to entice Daemon at the age of four and ten ---who only ever saw her with suspicion after that---into accepting his deal, he struck her for not being good enough.

Never hit her in a place anyone would see, no, he needed her to look her best ---better than Rhaenyra who everyone knew was meant to marry her uncle and secure the succession--- so he could sell her to the highest bidder.

Didn’t matter that man had been her only friend’s father or that she was barely five and ten.

Her friend ---who she loves like a sister--- whom he has been dreaming of killing since Queen Aemma died.

Had he been anyone else , Alicent would have reprimanded him for calling Rhaenyra a whore and accusing Aemond of not being man enough.

But whenever her father is near her, Alicent feels like the girl of five and ten being told to seduce the king in her mother’s dress before the Queen’s ashes had even cooled.

“I am sure he will remedy that before the honeyed moon is over, father.” The queen hoped that would be enough to placate him.

No need to make this a matter for the council.

But he will, just to show he has that power over them.

That he ---a second son who only inherited his wits from his Redwyne mother--- rules Westeros in all but name.

Aemma has been told she is a beauty; she is confident in her beauty and knows men find her desirable.

Up until last night.

Last night Aemond had gone soft ---she had felt his hardness against her thigh--- just as he was about to fuck her.

The only other woman known to suffer such a humiliating wedding night like that was Rhea Royce.

“Where is his highness?” she asks as she is dressed for the day.

“He went to make sure the preparations for your wedding trip are finished.” The handmaiden, a girl from the Reach assigned to her new household by the queen, answered as she tied the ribbon of her Dornish Farthingale.

They were to spend the honey moon at the lodge, end it with a hunt, a tourney and then go on a progress to show Westeros they are married, happy and that their families can coexist peacefully.

Mother and Queen Alicent had only a tourney before the progress, Helaena as well, but they were trying this new thing on Aemma.

A moon to see if they can love each other or learn how to tolerate each other in public.

While Aemma is usually an optimist, she has no hopes of the former happening.

“Will he break fast with me this morning?” Aemma asks hoping he will, but at the same time not wishing to see his stupid pretty face for a few more hours.

“He will not, your highness, he sends his apologies.”

And sure enough, she starts her first day as a married woman feeling utterly alone.

Aemond and Aemma had barely left the gates of the Red Keep when Rhaenyra is called to a meeting about them.

A note is given to her in secret by a page.

 Aemond did not consummate his marriage to your daughter due to the wine, my father seeks to blame your Aemma.

 -Alicent

It had been ages since Rhaenyra had been sent something from her former friend and had the words in the missive not caused her alarm, she would have kept it instead of tossing it into the fireplace for Aegon’s Stormcloud to burn.

They could not quash all chances for rebellion if Otto Hightower and his supporters had nothing forcing them to back down.

A baby with his blood would make his supporters desert him.

No one wants to be a kinslayer, nor serve one. They know what the Iron Throne does to kinslayers and usurpers.

What had caused Aemond not to perform his duties?

Aemma was lovely, many a servant and guard had been flogged for leering at her and many poets and artists had fought over the chance of immortalizing her in song and painting.

Aemma knew what she needed to know. More than she needed to know given Rhaenyra found her missing copy of a Caution for Young Girls: A Wanton’s Tale ---bookmarked on Coryanne’s adventures with her mummer’s troupe--- under her pillow.

Aemond was not into boys, she had seen him enough as a boy to know that, and Criston would have no doubt told him how the act is done given he had practically raised him.

“I believe you are overreacting, Ser Otto, they are young and have been married for less than two and ten hours.” Rhaenyra dismissed his plans for having the marriage annulled should the ‘issue’ continue.

No doubt the snake of Hightower already had brides lined up for his grandson, Tyshara Lannister and Cassandra Baratheon had been considered as such due to their status as their fathers’ heirs.

If the gods are good, Otto will be proven irrational and a little Targaryen prince will be occupying the empty nursery in Aemma’s new rooms at Court before the children’s first anniversary.

If the gods are great, Otto will fall on all those stairs at the Tower of the Hand and die along with all his schemes before the next turn of the moon.

[wack-ashimself]

#Charter (Now #Spectrum cuz you gotta change your name when you have the worst customer service ranking in history!) randomly, for the fucking fun of it, raised my internet $5. May not seem like much to you, but when you're poor, you account for EVERY fucking dollar.

Call them (after last night when my internet when randomly down. Which happens every 3 weeks. And even before talking, they say how they will 'credit' my account for the down time. Did you all the other times when I didn't call? DOUBT IT.)

They say 'if you look on page 3 of your last month's bill, we notified you of this raise because of' blah blah blah (said it was to increase quality. Ironic the day after a night out).

I told her, as politely as possible 'I wish you the best in life, but I hope you company burns to the fucking ground.'

I will never hate a worker; I can hate WHERE they work.