#i watched this two weeks ago and i still think about it

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar

[discontinued, feel free to add on]

It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.

Just plain weird.

It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".

Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.

Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.

Of course, he didn't visit immediately. He was still on patrol, and he just heard the sound of gunshots to the west. Not to say that the place was quiet.

(Oddly quiet for a bar in Gotham, now that he thinks about it)

Anyway, the next day, he went there not as Red Hood but as Jason Todd, an ordinary civilian who decided to grab a beer in the evening. Only to not find the place.

He couldn't have just miss it - he remembered the street, he knew the building, he was absolutely fucking sure where the "Afterlife" should have been. He searched the whole block nonetheless, and then proceeded to check the whole area, but to no avail.

Damn, it seems like he can't get to the afterlife both literally and- the other literally. Yeah, he might be having too much fun with the oddly chosen name for the nonexistent bar.

It didn't exist on the maps and internet either. At this point, Jason was contemplating the idea of it being a hallucination or a dream. He even checked the recording on his helmet from Wednesday night, but the whole time he was in the area, the video was filled with interference and static.

Weird. Slightly suspicious, but Red Robin, who's been patrolling the same area for weeks before him, never reported any interferences, so it probably had something to do with his helmet and not the area in general.

On Thursday night, he purposefully went there right after patrol. And the nonexistent bar suddenly existed again! The same neon green sign, the same quiet street around it.

Seriously, what is this mysterious fuckery?

Now, if he was a Bat, he would have reported this to others and investigated, lurked around in shadows, and approached with caution. If he was a Robin, he would have still reported and then straight up marched in there and saw how it goes.

Alas, he was Red Hood, so he decided to watch for the bar guests and see just who the hell goes in and out of the place.

And there was the next weird thing.

No one was going in or out. Jason sat there for a whole hour, and not even one person entered or left the building. Despite the muffled sounds of music, voices and laughter coming from the place.

The final kicker was the fact that after some careful questioning and dropping hints, Jason found out that no one except him ever saw the "Afterlife"'s sign. No one's even heard of it, both the Batclan and the Gothamites.

The fuck?

So he did the next logical thing. He brought the smartest member of the Bats with him. Tim owed him anyway. Might as well use it now instead of later.

Friday night proved two things: one, Tim was still his favorite to work with out of all the bats and birds, not questioning anything as to why Jason is asking him to check out a bar, and two, Jason just might be going insane.

Tim couldn't see the "Afterlife" even when Jason pointed at the sign from not further than ten feet. The irony of the stipid name was not even amusing anymore.

Tim didn't ask any questions after this experiment, and Jason didn't want to admit that he is losing the grip of reality, so they ended up simply parting their ways after. Can the Pits cause brain damage? More damage than there was in the first place, that is.

Now that he thinks about it, the color of the sign is really similar to the Lazarus waters. He should have noticed it sooner, but in his defense, who would look at the bubbling pool of toxic waters and think, "Oh, that would make a dope neon sign"? Apparently, the owner of the "Afterlife".

The color might be just a coincidence.

...no, in the world he lives in, coincidences like this just don't happen. Besides, Jason doesn't believe in shit like fate or destiny.

So, here he is, on Saturday night, standing in front of the door to the Afterlife. It would have been funny if it wasn't so weird. What's even more weird is that the closer he gets to the door, the less nervous he feels, like the place is radiating some calming aura. Wait, no, scratch that, Jason is so not calling it a calming aura for God's sake. That sounds just like those homemade witches with their crystals, tarot readings, and whatnot.

He's going to call it... tranquilizer vibes. Yeah, that's better.

He takes a deep breath, getting ready to see whatever it is on the other side, pushes the door open, and walks into the bar.

...

Whatever he's been expecting to see, it's not this.

[beenbaanbuun]

blood w/ poly!ateez

so i feel so sane about this… definitely no evil thoughts filling up my brain right now. none whatsoever :)

i want to write so much more about this universe and i’m literally sending the biggest kiss ever to @ateez-main-yapper to requesting this because i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life!

words - idk

genre - smut, horror (there’s a bit of gore i guess)

warnings - vampire!ateez, mafia!ateez, human!reader, smuggler!reader, blood, scarification, collars, ownership, blood, surgery mentions, nicknames (little mouse, princess, sweetheart), dancer!yeosang, security guard!mingi, ripper!doctor!yunho, mommy!seonghwa (don’t look at me like that, i had to), hand kink (mentioned), no actual sex but it’s talked about a lot, hair pulling, i think that’s all??

——————————————————————————

the scent of stale blood haunts the hallway you find yourself walking down, clinging to the back of your throat until yourself gagging on it. no matter how many times you find yourself down here, it never gets any easier to cope with; even a slaughterhouse would be more pleasant than this.

it begs the question why you’re back. by now, you’ve bled them of enough money to never have to work again, so it’s certainly not the pay. the job itself is harder than most, and not at all rewarding when you have to lie and cheat your way into success. there’s no doubt that the stress of hiding a smuggling operation behind the guise of a blood donation clinic has taken a good 20 years of your life from you. you can guarantee that job satisfaction isn’t what’s keeping you here either.

it’s only when you turn a corner and your eyes land upon them that you remember exactly why you’re still so willing to walk these halls. it isn’t something keeping you here but rather someone; multiple someones, in fact.

“mingi!” your footsteps quicken as you get closer the security guard that stands waiting outside of a heavy metal door. despite the fact that you’ve been on the other side of it multiple times, it still sends a shiver of curiosity down your spine. it’s not an anxious curiosity as it was when you first landed yourself in this position, but more of a morbid one. you know the horrors that lie behind it, you’ve experienced a few of them too, yet you still yearn to see more. “long time no see,” you offer a polite smile once you’re close enough to lower your volume from a shout, “san told me hongjoong had assigned you to pest control. is it not going well?”

mingi gives you a slow blink, his jaw set in stone and his eyes steely as he stares you down. he’s always looked far more intimidating than he actually is, although you suppose it serves to his benefit when his main job it scaring away anyone who might wish to disturb the peace. you’re only grateful to have had the chance to see behind the mask he wears; to watch his eyes melt and his lips part in the wonky grin he gets so little time to wear.

“you’ve not seen me in months and the first thing you ask me is about my demotion back to security?” he quirks a brow at you and you have to bite back your grin. in truth, you’d heard all about it from seonghwa over the past few weeks, your main contact within the clan more than happy to share life details with you as though you’re a lifelong friend rather than a mere employee. their favourite employee, sure, but still at the bottom of the pecking order.

“i just wanted to know more,” you lift your arms in defence, not missing the way his eyes flicker to the bandage on your left forearm, “like you said, it’s been a while.”

mingi hums in agreement as he examines the clean cloth. a long finger reaches out to trace the spot where the fabric meets your skin, the touch lingering and soft. it’s more the real mingi than it is the security guard mingi; it warms your heart to see.

“when did this happen?” he whispers, voice barely above a whisper.

“about two weeks ago,” you i pull your wrist back, letting mingi’s hand drop back down to his side, “hongjoong wanted to approach me about it, but i didn’t take much convincing,” actually, it was you who approached him but for some reason that’s much harder to admit, “you guys are much… kinder to me than the other clans i supply, well, supplied to. it was a no brainer to ditch them when given the chance.”

“so you’re ours?” he asks, voice dipping a little too low for the question to be purely innocent.

“i’m mine,” you confirm, “what i supply, however, is all yours.”

there’s a smirk on his lips, not as easily defeated by your sense of self worth as you’d like him to be. he knows as well as the rest of them what the mark on your arm means, after all. he knows as well as you do that there’s no getting away from them now. the moment yunho took his sweet, sadistic time carving their mark into your body it wasn’t just your business that belonged to them.

“sure you are, little mouse,” he whispers as he leans in close, his icy breath fluttering against your face. your stomach drops but you choose to ignore it. this was your decision, after all, “now, scurry along; you wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, would you?”

with the flip of a switch, the metal door clicks open and your immediately met with a blast of cool air and a wall of sound. you’ll never understand the clan’s need for these constant frivolities, especially when you’re on the other side of this getting your hands dirty, but you suppose it is a good way to hide their more secretive operations. no one is going to notice the door in the corner when there’s so much going on out here, right? it’s an extra layer of security, and a darn good one at that.

when you step inside, the door clicks shut behind you and you immediately get to scanning the crowd of partygoers for a familiar face. amongst the hoard of vampires, they’re harder to spot, their ashy skin and red eyes sticking out a lot less than they would next to a human. instead you look for a familiar hair colour, recalling the angry text you got from seonghwa about the den’s main bathroom turning pink with hongjoong’s hairdye. nothing sticks out at you, though, and so you’re back at square one.

your arms stretch out before you as you go to push through the crowd. it’s moments like this that you’re glad for the metal, almost collar-like band around your neck. yeosang had created it as a way to keep your pulse hidden from any less-well-meaning vampires. he’d insisted that the tag dangling from it with the clan’s emblem engraved was all hongjoong’s idea, but you recognise the same possessive glint in all of their eyes. it’s the same one yunho had given you when engraving that very emblem into your body, and the same one san had given to you when wrapping your bleeding arm up in a fluffy white bandage. yeosang is just like the rest of them, even behind his sweet exterior.

but right now he isn’t crafting some marvel of engineering out of metal scraps and a dream, but instead on the stage at the front of the room. it’s not often he’s up there instead of one of the others, but as you watch him elegantly dangle from a hoop that hangs from the ceiling, you find it hard to see why. he’s utterly ethereal, like a butterfly about to emerge from a chrysalis; one of those blue ones with the wings that seemed designed to capture your attention with their beauty. you’re entranced, much more so than the rest of the party-goers who seem to have grown blind to the creature moving elegantly before them.

his body moves not at all like a butterfly though, instead flowing smoothly like a viper along the branch of a tree. he extends his arms in such a way you’ve never seen before, silken and smooth as he reaches out to his audience. it pulls you in further, your feet shuffling as you push through the final layer of people to get to the stage. you stumble forwards, catching yourself on the edge of the raised platform. if he notices you there, he doesn’t show it; the stoic expression he wears remains steady as he gracefully shifts his body into yet another position.

you watch him like that until the end of his performance, unblinking with your lips parted in awe. even the way he tumbles to the floor and bows to an uninterested audience holds so much more grace than you think you will ever possess. to think that this is the man that spends half of his time smeared in motor oil with a puppy-like grin on his lips is strange, yet it feels so right.

“hello, little mouse,” he echoes the familiar nickname as he makes his way to the front of the stage, crouching down in front of you and running an all-too-confident finger along your jawline to your chin. he snaps your mouth shut in a way that is so far from the yeosang you know that part of you believes this must be his much cockier twin. “hongjoong is out tonight; some trouble on south side caught his attention so he wanted to clean up the mess before the police got there.”

“i’m meeting with seonghwa then?” you murmur, too starstruck for your mouth the form words properly.

yeosang shakes his head.

“seonghwa and san went with him,” the finger from your chin shifts down to the piece of jewellery that fits snug around your neck. his touch catches against the tag, the jingling sound reminding you of a bell on a cats collar. you try to ignore the smirk that rises to his face as sees you make the connection, instead shifting your gaze to the pendant around his neck that shares the same symbol. “yunho is busy with whatever sick shit gets him off, me and mingi are working which means…”

fuck.

“jongho and wooyoung.”

“clever mouse,” yeosang’s tone is venomous, despite his words being soft. clearly performing does something to his ego; inflates it until every sign of the sweet mechanic is hidden behind a thick shroud of confidence. it’s deliciously cruel, mirroring the sick sadism of yunho or the vast overconfidence of mingi, and holy fuck do you want a taste. perhaps later, once business is over.

if business is over.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about those two, though,” he continues, tugging on the tag of your collar—because despite your pride, even you have to admit that there’s no other way to describe it—until you’re face is merely inches from his own, “hongjoong promised yunho their balls if they can’t learn to control them. maybe you’ll finally be able to have a meeting with them before getting your pussy stuffed, hm?”

you feel yourself getting warmer, your face flushing as yeosang so blatantly talks about your track record with the pair of resident trouble makers. it’s not like you’ve let slip about all the times jongho’s had you sitting on his cock with your mouth wrapped around wooyoung’s the second you step into their office which means that they must have instead. it makes you wonder what they talk about whenever you’re not here, and how much each of them know about your less than professional escapades with each of them. it’s a troubling thought, and yet it’s still manages to light a fire deep in your belly.

“see you later, yeosang,” is the only thing you can mumble in response as you pull away from his touch, the tag of the collar bumping gently against your neck as it slips free of his fingers.

——————-

“you told the others about fucking me?” you scoff as you barge your way into the office where the two youngest vampires await your arrival. it’s nice to see them here already, since they usually arrive far later than the agreed upon time. although, you suppose with the delays of mingi and yeosang, you’re also late on this occasion. you let the passive-aggressive comment about time keeping slide, knowing it won’t help you right now.

“hello to you too, mousy,” wooyoung hums from where he lays on the green sofa in the corner of the room, “it’s nice to see you again! we’re doing wonderfully, by the way; thanks for a—”

you let the door slam behind you as you storm your way towards him, completely ignoring the curious gaze of jongho.

“cut the shit, wooyoung,” you grab hold of his shirt collar and lean in close. it’s supposed to be intimidating but the wide grin on his lips lets you know otherwise. “you’ve all been talking about me when i’m not here? what the fuck, man!”

wooyoung chuckles in your face, his dangerous fangs glinting beneath the overhead lights. you know he’d never bite without your permission—people have been killed by hongjoong for much less—but it still sends a shiver through you whenever you see them.

“you’re not exactly discrete yourself, princess,” the office chair creaks as jongho stands, making his way around his desk and towards you. although you keep your gaze firmly on the little rat who still sits giggling to himself, you can’t help but be hyper aware of the presence behind you. a large hand traces its way up your spine, not stopping until you feel his fingers lace themselves with your locks and tug. your grip fall limply from wooyoung’s shirt as you’re hauled back into the soft muscle of jongho’s chest, your neck craned awkwardly over his shoulder to keep you in place. “what do you want us to say when san is asking about who’s cum he’s eaten from your pussy? do you want us to lie to them?”

you squirm, wincing when his grip on your hair doesn’t loosen despite your attempts to break free. they call you little mouse and right now, you really do feel the part—you walked right into a trap of which there’s no way out.

“maybe i should let you fuck me again just so i can watch when yunho rips your fucking balls off your body!” you grunt through gritted teeth.

jongho hums in amusement, “it was hyperbole, sweetheart,” a pair of cold lips meet the hot skin of your cheek for just a second before pulling away, the softness a stark contrast to the harsh grip he still has you in, “he doesn’t care how much we fuck you as long as we get the job done. after all, he’d be a hypocrite to complain about us fucking you when his dick is inside of you twice as often, hm?”

you watch with cautious eyes as wooyoung stands from his place on the sofa, grinning as wide as the cheshire cat. it reeks of danger, yet you’ve never been the type to give into that sort of thing. you’re a human working for a bunch of vampires; danger is just a regular part of your life at this point.

“besides, mousy,” the cheshire cat purrs, “you think we’re the only ones who talk? you don’t think we know just how much you love calling seonghwa mommy when you ride him? or how much you love it when yeosang spits in your mouth whenever he’s fucking you dumb?” wooyoung brings a hand to your cheek, dusting over your bottom lip with his thumb, “you’re ours, little mouse; we can talk if we want.”

[anystalker707]

What do I get in return?

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Zoro was alone in the Crow's Nest. Tags: shy zoro / jerking off / oral requested by anon

MASTER LIST

          Night had fallen a while ago, and aside from the sound of the waves, he could only hear the ship's creaking as it swayed on the sea. Whoever was at night watch wouldn’t go anywhere near the Crow’s Nest. They never did, anyway, so he didn’t think much before he started pushing his pants down just a little, just enough, breath hitching just the slightest when the fabric grazed against his cock. It had been bothering him for a while already.

Zoro let his tongue out to wet his lips and exhaled shakily while wrapping his hand around his cock, feeling a certain relief when the pleasure of the simple grip sparkled up his spine, making his cock twitch in his hand. He had to give himself a moment before he started lazily moving his hand. He pressed his eyes shut, searching his mind for a guilty pleasure that had been tormenting him lately, and his mind immediately went to the way you’d helped him earlier that week.

Zoro’s cock twitched, a bead of pre-cum escaping his tip without needing much, so he stilled his hand for a few seconds before letting his mind wander again. Your hands kneaded into his muscles with a strong yet gentle touch to help him out with some soreness, and he had to look away before his mind wandered too far and ruined the moment, but now he could fantasize about it all he wanted, dwell into that unspoken tension between the two of you.

A low sound escaped Zoro’s lips as he pressed his thumb to his tip, collecting the pre-cum and using it as lube to rub the sensitive spot right under the head. His hips bucked into his hand involuntarily, and he tried to imagine how it’d be if you were the one touching his cock instead, smirking and teasing him. Fingers leisurely working on his sensitive spots, compelling him to fall apart on your will.

With a shaky groan, Zoro tightened his hand around his cock, stroking it at a firmer and faster pace, his movements now smoother when more pre-cum ran down his length, and— You.

Zoro’s brain short-circuited as he opened his eyes and saw you right there, halfway through the hatch, observing him. His cock throbbed, and he hoped he would disappear, but he didn’t. For how long had you been there? “For how long have you been there?” He grunted, his cheeks red with embarrassment, as his hands covered his cock.

You raised an eyebrow, an elbow on the floor, and shrugged. “You don’t want to know,” you said, finally climbing into the Crow’s Nest properly, kicking the hatch closed before making your way over without stepping on the weights carelessly left on the wooden ground.

His eyes followed you, and Zoro was about to say something when he let out a questioning hum instead, furrowing his eyebrows as you stopped before him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping you,” you said as if it were obvious, giving him a moment or two before your lips curled into a smile at the fact he didn’t kick you out of there. “You’re always so tense. Come on, let go for a little,” you mumbled while slowly kneeling between his spread legs, and he couldn’t do anything but observe, mentally cursing everyone and everything, even himself, for how much he loved that.

Zoro found himself unable to tear his gaze away from yours. He resisted at first once your hands rested on his forearms, but he couldn’t do it anymore after your fingertips caressed his skin gently. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine, reminding him of his ache for you.

Sighing, Zoro gave in. His cock twitched—your gaze shifted the moment your eyes landed on his cock, and it somehow managed to make Zoro even more aroused. His hands fidgeted around a little before he finally let them rest on the couch, each by one of his thighs; still, he was far from relaxed. Zoro’s eyes caught on every little detail of your expression, searching for disapproval, disgust, whatever, even though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if there were any.

Your hand was warm around Zoro’s cock, holding the base firmly, then giving it a few tentative strokes; his legs twitched a little, and he cursed himself for being so sensitive. He bit his lip to muffle a sound, and his eyes closed compulsorily, but he quickly opened them again at your breath fanning over his cock.

“Mm?” You looked up at Zoro, your free hand on his thigh while this other gave his cock a squeeze. He pressed his lips together and leaned back on the couch, nails sinking into his palms, but all the effort seemed meaningless when your tongue touched his cock. The feeling was better than anything he could’ve made himself feel with his hands or summoned with his mind if he were otherwise to deal with his wants alone.

Your tongue ran from the base to the tip, warm and wet, with a texture that had his thighs quivering. Zoro thought he would eventually get used to it, but his body betrayed his own will, tensing up with almost every action of yours.

The tip of your tongue traced the veins on the underside of Zoro’s cock, giving attention to each one of them, and your lips wrapped around the tip. He had to take a deep breath, failing with the attempt to avert his gaze, even if the way you observed him intently had nervousness bubbling under his skin. Your mouth was warm, slowly enveloping his cock until halfway through it just to pull back again, letting the cold air uncomfortably replace it.

It felt too good. Zoro hated how much he enjoyed it, his thoughts puzzled, swimming, and he tried to hold on to mentally cursing, even though he loved it when you nuzzled his crotch while stroking his cock. Steady breathing fanned against his skin, and you were soon mouthing at his balls. His hips bucked again, cock twitching, and he wondered how you could make it feel so good. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips with the sucks and licks, and it was too late when he tried to give a damn about it. You had some sort of effect on him.

Zoro’s cock covered part of your face and one of your eyes, but you still seemed to sense his gaze and look up at him. That look alone felt like a drag to the edge. He couldn’t help but moan again. His cheeks burned when your lips curled into a smirk, and he had to look away, cursing under his breath, almost back to reality again when your lips had his brain mushy once more.

Pleasure sparkled down his spine, compelling his thighs to quiver at the same time his nails sank more into his palm—the small pain was insignificant compared to the sensation of your mouth wrapped around his cock while your throat tensed up around his tip. Zoro would thrust into your mouth if you didn’t have that grip over him. Not a physical grip, no, it was just— The confidence, the skill, the way you handled him. Zoro didn’t know how to deal with that, and he preferred not to risk.

You swallowed around his cock, fingers sinking into his thigh, and you started bobbing your head, keeping a grip firm around the base. Eventually, your cheeks hollowed, and Zoro let out another moan, a louder one, arching his back. A familiar tingling took place in his lower stomach. You probably knew that, and he didn’t think he’d be able to say a word anyway. His hips bucked a little, his cock twitched, and your hand found his balls; it was like the cherry on top.

“Nngh,” Zoro gasped, hips jerking again, his mind already foggy. The moans escaped his lips more freely, filling the Crow’s Nest with low groans and panting over the slick noises, until he was saying your name and cumming down your throat. He didn’t remember the last time he had that kind of orgasm, mind-blanking and so draining, leaving his legs weak. A grumble escaped his lips as you eased him down from the climax, licking him clean, before you pressed soft kisses along the v-line by his left hip. He wanted to say something, but his mind could barely process where he was, let alone put words together to form a proper sentence.

“Come on,” you said, cutting through his thoughts. “I expect some sort of gratification.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[sadhours]

the diner - part one

billy hargrove x fem!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, stalking, murder, toxic relationship, trauma, hallucinations, flayed!billy, peeping Tom, masturbation briefly mentioned, horror

He survived. Somehow— someway. Billy survived. Took care of what he should have so long ago. But that monster lingers, still alive within him.

You’re an innocent girl who works next door to him and he can’t help himself. Could you help him or is he too sick?

read on ao3

part two

Rain slips down, leaving clean streaks across the scum splattered front window of the shop. It’s deep into the evening, town’s asleep except for the truck stop directly next door. Bright lights illuminating the gas pumps, convenience store and the 50’s style diner. The one you work at.

And in the darkness of Route One Garage, Billy stands at the window. Watching. Eyes following as your hair bobs up and down with your steps as you run around the diner. Taking orders, filling coffee cups, carrying hot plates of greasy food made on grills cleaned less often than the health department wants. He’s eaten there, knows you can taste the filth in the food. But it’s the only place to get food this late for miles. The place is full of truckers, different faces but they might as well be the same copy of a person. In and out all day long. Billy’s seen the way they talk to you, been witness to it and just sat there with his blood boiling. Didn’t do anything about it because he’s a pussy and also, because you don’t know him. Sure, he comes in semi-regularly but he doesn’t really talk to you. He can’t for some reason. But before he moved to this teeny, shithole of a place, Billy wasn’t like this. He could talk to any woman. You didn’t look at him like most women did, though.

He watches you like this almost every night. Every night you’re there. Fantasizes about the things he wants to do to you. Sometimes those things are questionable, violent even but sometimes they’re just fantasies of talking to you— making you fall in love.

But he did something that woke up these dark demons deep in him. Well, two things.

Billy still has visions of the shape shifting monster. Haunts his dreams. Recalls each time he led an innocent person to the monster. Regretted not leading his father to the monster. So when he crawled out of the slimy, pulsing portal. He found his dad. Did what he’d always been too weak to do. Billy wonders if that monster still possesses him. If there’s still some of those black, gunky slugs in his stomach. Puked them up for weeks, it felt like.

But he’s thousands of miles from Hawkins. Though it feels like part of him is still contaminated. Made him reclusive, awkward, scarred up. Maybe that’s why he’s scared to talk to you. He knows he doesn’t look like he used to. His hair’s longer, his eyes are darker, his body has starfish shaped scars patterned all over. That charm has been evacuated. He’s not as suave.

Obsessive. That’s how he is now and he knows it but he can’t stop himself.

Billy knows where you work, he knows what you drive and he knows where you live. He has the name of your boss, your parents and your ex boyfriend. He’s followed you to the dive bar in town, walked around the general store and kept his eye on you and the things you buy. He’s full blown stalking you. It’s not his fault, though. That monster gave him this sickness and this town gave him loneliness. A recipe for disaster.

And you’re just so fucking pretty. The way your face lights up when you smile stains his eyes when he closes them. If he focuses hard enough he can hear your voice. Same script over and over.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Shop busy, today?”

“Usual tonight?”

“Coffee, eggs over easy, hash browns , extra bacon and sausage, right?”

“Want some more coffee?”

“Anything else tonight? Maybe some apple pie?”

“Ya sure? It’s really good apple pie, I promise.”

“I’ll just get your check, then.”

Sometimes Billy can finish when he’s thinking about those words. Which is sick and he knows that but he feels like he can’t help himself. Wonders what you think of him. You’re not a bitch or anything but you don’t ever look at him like girls used to look at him. Nothing like the moms laid out by the pool. Not like you think he’s good looking but like he’s any other face you see. Which infuriates him but makes him sad about himself more than anything. Occasionally he looks at himself in the mirror until he feels sick. Until he sees his dad. Tells himself he needs a haircut, needs to shave the mustache. Sleep more so he can lose the bags under his eyes. Maybe you’d look at him differently.

The lights flicker, buzz loud enough he can hear it in the shop. He leaves. Locks up the place and his boots take him to the diner. To the same booth he always sits in. Lights up a smoke and meets your eyes from across the place. You don’t flush the way girls used to. In fact, Billy can’t register any kind of reaction on your face. So he flicks his ash on the floor because you’ll have to sweep it up and it feels like he won. Won what? He doesn’t really know, but he wants you to clean up his mess. Gives him some kind of satisfaction.

The script starts when you walk up. A variation of it.

“Late tonight,” you say, filling up his coffee cup without asking. “Must be busy.”

“Sure,” he says. Always keeps it short because you don’t meet his eyes and he can’t meet yours. Instead he stares at your hands, pretty fingers wrapped around the carafe’s handle.

You walk away. To put the coffee away he guesses. Stares at the mug, wraps his own fingers around it and takes a careful sip. His eyes find you behind the counter, giving a look of disdain to your coworker who said something and then you grin. Laugh at whatever she said to you. Then you’re back at his booth and his eyes fall to the table as the script resumes.

“Usual?”

“Yeah.”

“Eggs over easy, hash browns, extra bacon and sausage,” you recite from memory and Billy gets a bit of satisfaction from it. Proud of you for some reason.

“You remember,” he says, low and steady.

You scoff and chuckle, the sound makes his thighs tighten and you say, “Kind of hard to forget it. You’ve never changed it.”

Bold for some reason, he replies, “Maybe I should.”

“We do have a whole six pages on that menu. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you open it, though,” you offer and this is new. It’s off script. Both you and him.

Billy smirks, flips open the menu and peers down at the first page. It’s greasy, a stain of sticky jam at the top left corner and he immediately catches a typo. He purses his lips and continues to flick through it. You pull the notepad from your apron but he’s too nervous to look up at your face. He flips another page and then, finally, looks up at your face.

“What do you like?”

You look shocked. He likes that.

“Uh,” you laugh, a soft little sound and Billy’s skin is hot. “Our patty melt is pretty damn good.”

He closes the menu, slides to the end of the table as he replies, “I’ll have that then.”

“Wow, you’re full of surprises tonight,” you quip, “Fries or potato salad.”

“Why don’t you give me a surprise,” Billy says and then looks away because you’re too fucking gorgeous and he’s on a roll. Kind of feels like his old self right now and looking at you would fuck that up.

You pick up the menu and laugh again, “Sure thing.”

You walk away and he takes a hit of his neglected cigarette, ash falling to the table as he does so. Another mess of his for you to clean. Makes his whole body tingle at the thought. You don’t check on him before his food is done. But Billy keeps checking on you, eyes bouncing up to follow you as you work. Finishes his cigarette and coffee. Takes in the uniform you’re in. The big, bold name on the pin clasped into your blouse.

When you bring his food, you ask, “Got anymore surprises for me tonight?” and his mind runs wild. Sick fantasies. Ideas that make him feel guilty and the charm he’d felt after years slips far, far away.

“No.”

But you say, “Good. Don’t wanna overwhelm me too much.”

You fill his coffee again and walk away. Then he eats and the script resumes as normal. He pays. Sits in his car until all the lights in the diner shut off. Watches you walk to your car, waits a beat after you drive off before he starts his car and follows you. To your house. Keeps waiting until you go inside to park behind your car on the street and watch the numerous lights flick on and off. Aiding in him as he imagines exactly how your night plays out. He thinks you go into the kitchen first. Maybe you get a drink, perhaps a beer. When he’s followed you to the bar, he’s seen you drink beer. Then that lights flicks off and the TV turns on. Can see the variety of brightness and colors through the window. He thinks of what you might watch. Imagines sitting on the couch with you, cuddled up. His thoughts get perverted quickly and before he knows it, he’s staring at your window with his dick in his hand with the fantasy of your mouth on him.

After he finishes, he’s still watching. Until the changing lights of the TV go black and a different light turns on. Bathroom. That window is small. You brush your teeth, maybe wash your face. He takes this time to get out of his car, walk to the window on the side of the house, crouch down and peer through the broken blinds. Your bedroom. You turn the light on, back to the bathroom to turn that light off and return. Close your door and undress. You sleep nude but you keep a robe next to your bed. You flick off the light. Sink into bed and Billy stays for a while. Until he knows you’re asleep. He thinks about sneaking inside but he hasn’t gathered the gusto to do so yet. The whole watching you through the window is new enough. But he’ll escalate soon. Won’t be able to help himself.

Then Billy goes home. Back to his shady little apartment. Falls asleep on the couch with infomercials playing on the TV. He’ll wake up and do the same thing again tomorrow.

—

Dark tendrils wrap around his wrists and ankles. Pull him in opposite directions. His eyes are wide open but his body feels paralyzed. He tries to scream but it’s gargled and there’s a monster limb attaching to his mouth, pulsing down his throat. Fills his belly with baby slugs. The sticky limb retreats him and the constraints on his ankles and wrists unravel and he’s shaking. Thrashing. Screaming. Crying. Pleading.

Then Billy’s awake, sits up straight and pants. Looks around his room and there’s nothing there. Just him and the mess of his belongings. He cries. Then he showers. Makes himself vomit and he sees no slugs. No sludge. Just the dinner and foamy beers he had. Billy showers, water so hot it burns— turns his skin patchy red and tingly. He vomits again. Watches the sick circle the drain. Cries some more. Feels the loneliest he’s ever been. Wonders why he can’t kill himself. Why he doesn’t have the strength to do that.

He’s up too early. Doesn’t work for another three hours. Billy paces his apartment. Chain smokes and pounds coffee. He briefly thinks of Maxine. Stalks over to his freezer and reaches in it for the bottle of vodka he keeps in there and guzzles some of it down. Drowns out Max. Maybe he should make sure you get to work safe. He has to do something. Anything.

The drive to your house is routine, but he doesn’t often do it in daylight. Can’t risk you seeing him, so Billy parks a couple houses down. Chain smokes while he waits and soon enough, you’re walking to your car.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Seven - Eleanor

You aren't seen by Amelie all week. The first glimpse she gets of you is at the theater that following Friday. You hadn't told her you had spent almost every night in Lestat's home. That would definitely give her ideas, and you didn't need that right now.

She follows you into your dressing room. You take a seat at your table and look at your reflection. You're looking a little paler than before.

“Are you alright?” Amelie asks softly. She could tell she was worried about you. “I went to your house a couple times, you weren't there.”

You turn and look at her. “I've been… busy.”

Amelie comes closer and takes your hand in hers. “Busy?”

“I've just got a lot going on.”

She presses her hand to your forehead. “You look a little off, but you don't seem to have a temperature. Do you need anything? Water? Food? To rest a little?”

You shake your head. “No. I'm okay.”

“If you're sure…” Amelie doesn't look convinced. She steps away and takes her leave.

You slump agaiant your dressing table and sigh, fingers digging into your hair. All week you have been sneaking off to Lestat's to simply be with him. To let him taste you. To let him hold you.

God, the way his arms felt around you was a dream. You wanted nothing more than that in life. Well, there was perhaps more you could want to do with him. He certainly knew as much.

‘Are you alright, Chéri?’ 

His voice is in your head. He seems to know every thought and feeling you have. You find you don't mind quite as much. 

‘You're thinking a lot. Don't worry, mon amour.’

My love. That was the first time he had called you that.

A knock at your door makes you jump and turn around to see who it was. “Come in.”

The door opens and Jack enters. You offer him a smile and he smiles in return. “Amelie looked worried. Are you okay?” He asks.

“I assure you, I am well.”

‘More than well.’

You ignore Lestat in your mind.

“No one has seen or heard anything from you all week.”

‘I have certainly heard you.’

“No. I'm sorry. I've been busy. I'm still here though.” You smile again.

“Good. You're my best performer. You and that piano are my stars.”

‘The brightest star I have ever seen.’

You smile, but who you're smiling from is the question. You know who.

“I'll let you get ready.” Jack leaves you alone to prepare. 

You look at yourself in the mirror and stare hard at your reflection. You smile at yourself.

The magician on stage takes a bow, and people applaud. Lestat watches with disinterest. He doesn't care for anyone else in this show. He wants to see his shining star. His darling. His music maker.

The stage clears and the lights turn to the manager, Jack. He babbles for a little while and then addresses the crowd with open arms. Lestat leans forward in his seat, a proud grin on his lips.

Your name is announced.

The curtain open to reveal your piano in place and as Jack exists the stage, you come on. Lestat can't teat his eyes away from you. You're wearing a gorgeous gown and around your neck is that ruby red necklace he gave you months ago.

Your eyes find his own and he winks at you from his box. You're gorgeous.

You take a bow and sit down at your piano. A few moments of silence fill the room before you fill the air with your beautiful music. You're playing his song again. Lestat smiles. If this was a declaration, he was listening.

Everyone in the room was hanging on to every note. You had them completely wrapped up in your magic. You were the siren and they were the sailors.

You played for the next half hour. You enchanted every soul in the room.

Lestat had fallen even more for you.

When your time was done you took a bow and left the stage. Lestat, as usual, leaves his box. He's waiting for you at your dressing room before anyone else. You smile as he reaches out and caresses your cheek gently with his fingers. His touch is ghostly, so light you could barely feel it.

As Lestat leans in, almost as if to kiss you, you're both interrupted by a voice. You both turn to see a young woman, mid twenties at least, looking at you.

“Excuse me, I don't suppose you know where Noah is? I didn't see him in the show tonight and I wanted to speak to him.”

You feel yourself go stiff. Lestat grabs your arm gently and smiles at the woman. “Who is asking?”

“My name is Eleanor. I'm Noah's sister. I wrote to him to tell him I was coming to see him perform, but I didn't get a response, at least not one that arrived in time.” She shuffles on the spot slightly. “I was disappointed to see he was not on stage tonight. Don't suppose you know where he's staying?”

You turn your eyes to Lestat for help. What were you supposed to say? ‘Oh gosh, we're so sorry, you see, your brother was being an ass and Lestat decided to feed on him until he was dead.’

Yeah, that would go down well.

“Did you not hear? He left,” Lestat tells her.

The woman visibly deflates. “He did? No, I hadn't heard.”

Lestat keeps his hand on your arm to keep you calm. “Perhaps his letter had yet to reach you.”

“Possibly,” she sighs.

Lestat feels you grabbing at the sleeve and puts on a polite expression for Eleanor. “If you don't mind, we are just leaving.”

She looks between you both and steps back, getting the message. “Of course. Forgive me. I better contact home and see if Noah got through. Thank you kindly, both of you.”

Lestat takes your hand and guides you past the young woman. You're holding onto him tight. He can feel your panic just from the touch of your hand.

Once you're out of the theater you drag him into the alley nearby. 

“Shit, Shit, Shit!” You hiss out. “What are we gonna do?”

“Nothing,” he replies nonchalantly. 

“Nothing?” You stare at him in disbelief. “You killed her brother and she's looking for him!”

Lestat shrugs. “So? She'll never find him. I disposed of the body.”

“Oh my God!”

“He can't help you.”

You glare at the vampire. “This isn't funny! I'm the last person Noah went to see. No one knows you were involved!”

“Calm, Chéri. All will be well. No harm shall come to you.” He holds your face in his cold hands.

“Lestat…”

“Shh. If you keep on worrying you'll get wrinkles.” He taps your nose with his finger. “Do you want that?”

“Stop messing around.” You wave his hands away from your face. “Someone has to take things seriously around here.”

“Why? Nothing to worry about. You'll see.”

You almost hate how unbuttered he is by this, but at the same time, how many times has he done this before? Lestat was a clever man. He surely chose his victims carefully. If people kept on disappearing from the same place, flags would be raised. 

“I trust you,” you say softly.

Lestat grins. “That's what I like to hear. Now, back to mine for a nightcap?”

You roll your eyes and go with him.

When you get back to his house, Lestat can tell you're still freaking out over Eleanor's presence in town. You're all figgity in your seat. Lestat sighs and holds out the glass of wine in front of your face. When you don't take it from him he places it on the table beside you.

“I can make you forget,” he offers.

“Forget?”

“About Eleanor and her questions.”

“That might make things worse,” you sigh. You didn't want to forget that the family of a dead man was out there searching for him.

“Just for tonight.” Lestat leans over, his lips brushing along your ear. You feel a shiver run down your spine. 

He closes the distance between you both and wraps his arms around you so smoothly. You fall into his embrace with ease. Whatever line there was between you before had been crossed, and you knew there was no going back. Lestat kisses along your jaw, your breathing came out in small little pants. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Lestat,” he name falls from your lips with ease.

“Shh.” He whispers in your ear. “Tonight you are mine and I am yours.”

His lips press against your own with desire. Long awaited desire. From this single kiss you knew he had been waiting a long time for this. Lestat had had his eyes on you for a while now. It was only a matter of time before he got what he wanted. Lestat could be patient when he wanted to be.

He pulls you into his lap and brings your bodies closer together. It's like a magnetic force bringing you together. You follow after his lips, your hands grab onto him wherever they can. Lestat lets you chase after every part of him that you want.

Your fingers dig into his hair as he pulls you to sit up in his lap. He lifts you up enough so he can lay you down and climb on top of you. His lips leave yours to trail back down your jaw and then your neck. Your back arches as he goes lower, down to your collarbone. His hands stay firm on your hips.

You're about to forget your own damn name, that's for sure.

His large hands go wandering under your clothes. You've never found yourself in this position before. Lestat had you feeling all kinds of ways.

You gasp as he sucks on the spot he bit you from last time you were here. The skin there was sensitive and had you shaking under him.

“Ma petite beauté.”

He speaks in a low voice. He's using every ounce of his charms to keep you with him. It's working.

His fingers pluck at your clothes. You don't even move to stop him. He smirks against your skin.  He's about to undo the buttons but there's firm knocking at the door.

Lestat lifts his head. You look up at him. “Don't answer it.”

“Chéri, I do not get guests.” He looks at you.

You hear the knock again and Lestat rises from the couch. He fixes his hair and stalks slowly toward the door. You sit up and fix your clothes, missing the touch of his lips on your skin.

Lestat opens the doors. You watch from your spot on the sofa. He doesn't say anything as she steps back and lets the person inside.

Amelie.

You stand up quickly and hurry over to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew you would be here.” She looks you up and down. “I didn't know where else to go.”

You place your hands on her shoulders and look at her. Lestat watches from the door. He remains quiet as you talk to her.

“It's about Noah… the police came to the theater. His sister called them after finding his apartment. He's gone missing.”

You stare at her. Lestat can see the panic in your eyes. Eleanor was causing him problems. He is normally a little more clever when it comes to his victims.

“What… what's happening?” You ask.

“They're saying kidnap, but… they're also gonna look for a body… It was awful. They were all over the theater lookin’ for clues.”

You glance at Lestat who holds your gaze with a sharp look. You turn back to Amelie. “Let me walk ya home.”

Amelie nods and follows you out. Lestat doesn't even get to kiss you goodbye.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19

[buckysgrace]

5. You Broke Me First

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

You enjoy your time with Steve.

Life without Patty was nice. Even if it had just been a few weeks. Two to be exact. Fourteen days with no drama, no petty arguments or feeling like you had to prove yourself to be something. It was nice, refreshing.

The realizations made you feel guilty, but your grandma had said it was probably for the best. You were allowed to feel thankful for Patty’s kindness at one time, but also able to move on from that point. You didn’t have to owe her for the rest of your life. 

Every single day was spent with Steve. You drove to work with him in the mornings, shared breaks with him, rode home with him at night. Usually you snuck over to his, as you were too afraid to have him over after the last conversation with your grandmother. But you feared she knew about your sneaking out as well. 

You felt comfortable, more relaxed than you had been in a long time. You had never felt so spoiled, so desirable. It was intense, but in the best sort of way. 

But now you were stuck. Technically you were still a part of Patty’s stupid idea despite her going silent on you some time ago. You had no way of confirming if she still wanted to do this. But most of all, you had no way of really telling her that this was off. That you weren’t sure if you wanted to do it.

You didn’t.

You supposed you could come clean, but the very thought of hurting Steve made you sick to your stomach. It was even worse when you looked at you with those big brown eyes, full of adoration and joy. You couldn’t be the one to break his heart. There was no way. 

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked, breaking you from your thoughts of watching the water ripple against your fingers that were dipped into his pool water. His floaty was next to yours, bouncing against you gently with the drift of the wind. 

You turned towards him, breathing in the soft look in his eyes. You loved to stare at them, loved how big and gentle they were. You traced your eyes over the curve of his nose, then over his freshly tanned skin. You were close enough that you could see a few freckles across his skin. 

“Nothing.” You replied a second later, gulping harshly as you weren’t able to come up with an answer. You didn’t know what to tell him, how to explain the web that you had tangled yourself into. 

“Right,” He chuckled as he brought his thumb between your eyebrows, “You just had this intense look in your eyes for nothing.” He pointed out, as if he could see you behind your sunglasses. 

“My car,” You lied, swallowing roughly once again, “Just trying to think about how much more I need to save up.” You nodded your head quickly, not wanting to spoil the moment between the two of you. 

“Patty should pay for it.” He said as he turned away, pressing his sunglasses over his face once again. You blinked at him in surprise. 

“I let her in the driver’s seat.” You replied as you furrowed your eyebrows together, feeling like you’d been through this conversation many times.

“So?” He asked you seriously, leaving you a little surprised. Apparently he was the only one who didn’t think it was entirely your fault. 

“It’s my responsibility,” You grinned, mimicking your grandparents speech, “It’s fine. I just need one before you leave.” You teased him, dragging your foot off of your floaty to nudge your toe against his warm skin.

He was quiet for a moment, not at all phased at your antics as you stared at him in confusion. He hadn’t said a lot about college, but you figured he’d at least be gone by the beginning of the new year. 

“I think I’m going to quit my job. Family Video is hiring.” He said at last, making you blink in confusion. You tilted your head, not understanding where that was coming from. But perhaps he’d had enough of what his dad had said. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him, shifting on the rubber beneath you so you could look at him better. He exhaled roughly as he linked his fingers over his stomach. 

“Summer’s ending,” He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t think ice cream sells very well in the winter. Plus, I can finally get out of that stupid uniform.” He grumbled, racing his fingers through his hair as you thought about it. 

“I like the uniform.” You admitted, pulling a smile to your lips as he snapped his head towards you. You thought it was geeky, but it looked very good on him. You especially liked the tuft of hair that stuck out from his shirt. 

“You do?” He looked at you stunned, lips parted as you felt an amused grin forming on your lips. It felt wrong to admit that he looked attractive, but you weren’t going to think about that at the moment. 

“It’s very sexy,” You teased, “I enjoy it quite a lot.” You grinned, reaching across to press your fingers gently against his shoulder. His skin felt warm against yours. 

“Oh.” He flushed for a moment before his lips curled into a grin, smiling brightly like you had just made his whole year. 

“But if you want to sell movies, I won’t mind that either. You can pick out the best ones for us to watch.” You added as you thought about it, tilting your head as you tried to remember all of the new movies you had missed recently. 

“I can do that,” He grinned, looking flattered by the suggestion, “What’s your favorite movie?” He asked you curiously, gripping the arm of your floaty and pulling you closer to him. You wrinkled your nose at the sound of plastic rubbing together. 

“Hm,” You thought about it for a moment, racing through your options, “What was the one we saw together? You know, when you got all frisky at the movie theater?” You grinned mischievously as you thought about it, not missing his little gasp. 

“Ha,” He chuckled, cheeks burning as he looked at you, “You’re funny.” He shook his head, his laughter mixing with yours as electricity settled over your body as you thought about that event. He hadn’t failed to make you feel fiery since then. 

You both settled into a comfortable silence after that, your fingers linking with his over the water as your floaties continued to bump against one another. You crossed your ankles, the area between your thighs still sore from earlier today. 

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” You asked him suddenly, turning to face him as he snapped his head towards you so quickly that his sunglasses nearly toppled off. 

“Tonight?” He asked you for clarity, making you press your lips into a smile as you nodded. You figured it was about time. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to sneak around as much. 

“My grandma always makes something,” You told him, “And your fridge is bare.” You reminded him, thinking of the very bare sandwich the two of you had shared earlier. You were getting hungry and you figured he must be too as he was always snacking. 

“I need to go shopping,” He admitted, nodding his head in agreement. He hadn’t once mentioned where his parents had been since you’d been coming over, “Sure. That sounds like fun.” You wiggled your way out of the floaty, gasping as the cold water hit your skin before you made your way to the ladder. He followed closely behind. 

“Just don’t let them be weird,” You told him quickly, “Because they like to embarrass everyone.” You pouted as you thought about it, hoping they wouldn’t pull any embarrassing stories out. Although Steve probably knew them all. 

“Or you just don’t like being teased.” He told you, passing you a towel as you began to dry yourself off. You stared at your pile of dry clothes, hoping they’d feel good from where the sun had been roasting them. 

“That too,” You agreed with him, “I’ve never brought a boy over before.” You told him playfully, taking a quick glance around before you shifted your swimsuit off your body. You no longer felt embarrassed about being naked in front of him. 

“I’ve been the only one?” He asked, grinning at the subtle way you nodded your head, “I’m flattered.” He told you, eyes lingering against your body for a second too long before you shoved your wet swimming suit at him. 

You headed down the familiar path once you were both dried and dressed, trying not to fall to your knees as Steve linked his fingers with yours. You liked the feeling of his skin against yours, how large his hand was in comparison to your own. 

“Steve,” Your grandpa nodded at him once you had made your way inside, “Good to see your face. I’m used to seeing your back as you leave.” He grumbled, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the TV. 

“Grandpa.” You hissed, eyes wide in fear as you felt your insides warming in embarrassment. You wished they could just act casual for once. 

“Just saying,” He held his hands up innocently, “I hope you like meatloaf.” He replied, grinning as he sent him a little wave. 

“I do,” Steve nodded his head along, cheeks still flushed, “Thank you.” He nodded as he glanced around, brown eyes breathing in the new decorations within the house. Nothing special, just the occasional item your gran found at garage sales. 

“Hi,” Your gran piped up, moving forward to give him a big squeeze as you tried not to hide your face in embarrassment, “It’s been so long.” She rocked him back and forth for a minute, leaving you with a smile on your lips. 

“Yeah, it’s been a few years since I’ve been here.” He said seriously, lips curling into a polite smile once she released him. She gave his cheek a little pat, making you roll your eyes at the way she doted on him. 

“Well, since you’ve been in this kitchen,” She clarified, making the two of you gape in horror at her casual revelation, “But you can tell me how well you like the touch ups.” She said in a sing-song way before she shouted at your grandfather to join them at the table. 

“They’re great,” He squeaked out, “Really nice.”  He ran his hands through his damp hair a few times, eyes flittering towards you for a brief second. 

“Food looks amazing,” You said next, trying not to die as you sat down across from him, “Thank you.” You told her honestly, glad there was no tension despite their teasings. 

“We should pray,” Your grandpa muttered as he held his hands out, one for you to grab and the other for Steve to take. It was the same routine every night. You clasped your gran’s hand next, nodding your head toward Steve, “Any requests? Maybe no early pregnancies?”

“Grandpa!”

Dinner was surprisingly well, despite the little digs they kept making at the two of you. You huffed underneath your breath the entire time, wondering why they wanted to torture you in such a way. 

“I was so upset you stopped being friends in high school,” Your gran started as she scooped another plate out for Steve. His eyes widened, apparently not planning on three servings, “But people do grow apart. And then back together.” She added, smiling sweetly at you. 

“Yep,” You agreed, feeling the embarrassment sinking into your bones, “That happened.” You weren’t sure why you invited him here in the first place, but it wasn’t so they could act like you were going to marry him. You weren’t even really dating. The whole thought process made your stomach twist and churn. 

“She’s pretty special,” Steve spoke up, making you jerk your gaze towards him once again, “I was dumb to let her go before.” He added, eyes locking onto yours as your throat suddenly felt too dry to speak. You didn’t know what to say, or what to do. You forced a smile, suddenly filled with guilt all over again.

You both took the role of cleaning the dishes while your grandparents retreated towards the living room after dinner, discussing something that one of the church leaders had said today. Their gossip was something you didn’t care to hear about at the moment. 

“Why are you still friends with Patty?” He asked you suddenly, eyebrows furrowing together as soap leaked off of his fingertips. You blinked in confusion, unsure of where that had come from. 

“She’s not that bad,” You said softly, “She took me in at school.” You shrugged your shoulders, supposing that a bad friend was better than none at all. She knew all of your secrets too, so she couldn’t be that bad. Maybe just whiny, but you still cared about her. 

“Yeah for her own selfish reasons,” He shook his head, “She’s kind of a bitch.” He mumbled underneath his breath, leaving you stunned. You hadn’t heard him ever say that before. 

“You weren’t the nicest either.” You reminded him gently, not trying to start an argument but wanting him to understand where you were coming from. He jolted at your response. 

“I’ve changed,” He defended himself, cheeks reddening, “She’s still the same. I don’t want her to hurt you.” He mumbled, fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a plate to dry. You felt a bit better suddenly, getting down to what he was upset about. But he didn’t need to worry about her hurting you. He needed to care for himself. 

“I haven’t spoken to her in a while anyways,” You told him honestly, “Why did you break up with her?” You asked softly, even though you had heard the story a hundred different times. 

“What did she tell you?” He asked suddenly, making you pause your motions for a second. You chewed on your bottom lip. 

“That you had gotten tired of her,” You started, trying to word it as carefully as you could, “Basically you dumped her for someone else.” Nancy Wheeler to be exact. And that was the nicest way you could explain it. 

“Yeah,” He laughed, “I caught her in between fourth period with her hand down Carl Johnson’s pants. It wasn’t working out anyways.” He said with a little shrug, smiling at you as you thought about her story once again. Perhaps a few pieces were off. 

“Oh,” You blinked slowly, “She never told me that.” You muttered, furrowing your eyebrows together as you wondered what else she had lied about. Hopefully not anything. But it didn’t make you feel very ecstatic about your situation. 

“Why would she?” He asked as he brushed his fingers across your palm, “It doesn’t make her sound very appealing.” You nodded your head in agreement, figuring that you owed her a call. 

[awrkive]

PLS SHARE THE DOYEON CONFESSION SCENE DRABBLE PLS RACHEL SEND IT TO US X🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

summary: tlp drabble #1 where doyeon confesses to jk in first year med school

w/c: 1.5k

note: this ask was sent a few days ago and i actually already have this drabble in the drafts so.... yes 🤓i welcome u to the ribbon cutting ceremony of the unlocking of a new tag in awrkive nation: tlp drabbles

Doyeon believes that she’ll only live until sixty-five – seventy, if luck’s on her side. Ultimately, she’s firm on her stand that life is short and everybody needs to get off whatever is on their chest before it’s too late. 

It’s why when she sees Jungkook arriving in Moon’s Printing Shop – where their study group holds their sessions – she sits upright and fixes her already neatly piled books and notes on the table once again, preparing herself.

Just ask the question and get over it quickly. She reminds herself.

“Where’s __?” Is the first thing that comes out of Jungkook’s mouth, taking off the straps of his backpack and setting it down on the chair across hers, as well as some of his bound reviewers and iPad. 

Doyeon raises her brow.

It’s weird when Jungkook does that. Asking about you whenever and wherever when you’re not around. She knows you were friends first before you both found her, and you are close – it’s second nature at this point. Still, Doyeon can’t help but be a little suspicious.

But she decides to ignore that, not wanting to put malice in Jungkook’s intentions because it would be unfair to him. She doesn’t want to be that kind of person who thinks that men and women can’t be purely platonic. You’re just good friends, is all.

Though, she definitely did assume that you both were a couple the first time she saw you. Physiology had just ended and Jungkook said he needed to go to the next floor to meet someone for lunch. Doyeon asked to tag along, and that was the first time she met you. Fast forward, you actually weren't his girlfriend. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Jungkook blushed though when she asked him about it.

Glancing at her phone, she sees the empty notification bar, indicating that you haven’t replied to her text from twenty minutes ago. 

“She said she was coming. Twenty minutes ago. She also said it’s okay if we start without her.” Doyeon responds, and she watches as Jungkook settles on his seat, nodding at her.

He goes for his own phone, clicks on it as if also texting you himself. 

Doyeon watches him with furrowed brows. Jungkook is definitely… conventionally attractive. He sports a medium-length hair, is quite tall, and has a good sense of fashion – even now when he’s just wearing the university hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants, he looks good. Naia from Physiology has been asking about him.

Doyeon has had a few crushes from highschool to college, and she thinks Jungkook might be her first in post-grad school. 

She’s been thinking about it for a while… though, she’s only known him for two months. Still. He looks good, and most of all, he’s nice. He let her borrow a pen from him the first day they met and was extremely friendly. 

And also really smart. Doyeon likes that most about him. 

Doyeon rids her head off the thoughts.

“Anyway. Anatomy.” She starts flipping through her book, ready to start the session. But she remembers about what she has to say to him.

Oh, well. She's already mentioned Anatomy and studying. Might as well put off the confession for a few more days. The exam is more important.

Putting his phone down, Jungkook looks through his book as well. "Midterms is next week, right?"

Doyeon nods. “Yeah... and brachial plexus is convoluted to me.” 

“Oh, yeah. Threw me off at first, too,” Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head to himself. He grabs a piece of paper. “You just really have to figure out how the branches and divisions work. Let me show you something,” 

Jungkook turns the paper to Doyeon’s direction, and with a pen, he sketches out a simple diagram of the brachial plexus, starting with the roots, then moving to the trunks, divisions, cords, and finally the terminal branches.

“Okay, so it starts here with the roots— C5 to T1. Think of it like the beginning of a tree. Then these roots combine into trunks,” He scribbles it, and then looks at Doyeon for awhile, making sure she’s still following. She gives him a slight nod. He smiles. “Annnd, there’s the superior, middle, and inferior trunks… and they split into anterior and posterior divisions.” 

He’s talking calmly, methodical in his words. He simplifies such a complex system with clear, organized steps, and this makes Doyeon lean closer, impressed not only by Jungkook’s understanding but by how easily he breaks it down.

When Jungkook’s done explaining, Doyeon leans back to her chair. “That is a really neat diagram.” She looks at the original illustration that the lecturer presented a few weeks ago, and when Jungkook sees that, he laughs lightly. 

“Yeah, that diagram is just a mess. But it does click when you just think of it like a pathway—kind of like navigating through a map,” As if he remembers something, he lights up a little. “And oh, __ also taught me a mnemonic. You just have to remember the terminal branches, MARMU. Musculocutaneous, Axillary—’

“Radial, Median, and Ulnar nerves.”

Jungkook grins. “Exactly.” 

Nodding her head, she starts to do the same drawing on her notes. 

A few minutes passed, comfortable silence hanging in the air. Doyeon had kept on looking up from her book to Jungkook, who’s diligently reading and scribbling on his iPad. 

She remembers the confession again.

Doyeon can't help it. She has to ask. Now.

“Hey,” she calls.

Jungkook looks up from his device. “Hm?” 

“I have to ask you something.”

With a raised brow, Jungkook says, “You look serious. I’m a little scared.”

She furrows her brows and he chuckles, telling her to continue. 

“Are you dating somebody?” Doyeon asks straight ahead. There’s no need to tiptoe around it. She just has to get it out of her system before it becomes worse.

Obviously taken aback and not expecting the question at all, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth like fish in water. 

“... no?” 

“You’re not sure?” Doyeon asks, confused.

Jungkook stammers. “No, I mean— yes. No. I’m not dating anybody,” He raises a brow at her. “Why?” 

Doyeon nods. 

“I like you. Are you interested in going out with me?”

Doyeon waits. She watches as Jungkook seems to freeze in his seat, his hand holding his apple pencil pausing mid-air; mouth agape, eyes widened a bit. 

She waits for a few seconds, still not getting an answer from Jungkook. 

“Okay.” Doyeon says after the stretched-out silence, going back to her book.

Well. That was worth the shot. At least she's let it out now. 

“I—what?” Jungkook splutters, sounding incredulous. “What do you mean you like me? Like, like? And you want to go out with me?” 

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Offer is now off the table. Let’s get back to studying.” 

“What— were you even serious?” Jungkook insists. “Was that a prank or something?” 

With furrowed brows, Doyeon looks at him quizzically. “Why would I joke about something like that?” 

“Because…” He trails off, then his shoulders deflate after a few seconds. “I don’t know.” 

“Okay?” When Doyeon sees him with a pouty expression on his face, she can’t help but frown. “Don’t think too much about it, Jungkook. It’s not serious. I just wanted to ask. You gave me an answer. That’s it.” 

“I didn’t give you an answer, though?” 

“Your silence meant enough.” Jungkook doesn’t say anything. She nudges his foot under the table. “Come on, don’t be weird about this.”

Sighing, Jungkook nods his head. “Alright.” 

A few beats of silence, and Doyeon remembers something. “Don’t ever mention this to anybody, not even __, you understand me?” 

He blinks at her. “Okay.” 

Doyeon can’t say the next few minutes weren’t awkward. She felt Jungkook looking up at her every now and then, as if checking up on her. By then, she started to feel the hairs on her body prickle. Is he thinking she’s like, in love with him, or something? 

“Hello!” Doyeon looks up from her notes to see you walking in the door. “Hi Doyeon, hi Jungkook!” you cheerfully greet them both with a bright smile. 

Doyeon thinks your smile is contagious, so she mirrors your it as well. When her gaze falls to Jungkook, that’s when she takes note of it. 

The way his eyes suddenly light up at your arrival. It's not the first time it happens. He has that look every single time you're in the room.

Jungkook instantly goes over to you to help you with the books you’re carrying. When he sets them down on the table, he empties the chair beside him so you can settle down on it, which you do. 

“You’re late. Where were you?” Jungkook asks, and Doyeon doesn’t know if it was supposed to be subtle— but he definitely scooted his chair closer to yours, leaning his elbow to the table and twisting his body to your direction, giving you his undivided attention.

“Oh, just good old traffic. I made a quick trip to a cafe,” you wave him off. Lifting your hand, Doyeon looks at the cup holder you’re holding. “I bought coffee. Doyeon, do you like iced americano?”

“Uh, yeah,” Doyeon smiles shyly. She’s still shy around you. She doesn’t know why. “Thank you. I’ll venmo you.” 

There’s an instant frown on your face. With a pout, you take the cup holder close to your chest, an offended expression on your face. “No, it’s a treat. Don’t venmo me anything.” 

Doyeon can’t help but chuckle. 

“Okay.” 

Your huge grin returns and you give her the cup of iced americano. Turning to Jungkoon who looks like he’s eagerly waiting for his own, you raise a brow at him, saying, “And this one's for you. But double the price.”

Jungkook frowns. 

You both end up arguing again. It’s light-hearted and good-natured, that’s what Doyeon thinks. Your friendship is just… bizarre like that. 

But as she sits across from you, watching both your and Jungkook’s interaction, Doyeon realizes something. 

She should’ve known. She’s always thought about it. She wanted to ignore her hunch because again, she thinks women and men can be friends – but that is hard to uphold when Jungkook is so painfully obvious. 

Oh, brother. Doyeon internally shakes her head. Jungkook definitely likes you.

[sp-by-april]

PC!Kyle x F!Reader [Part 2]

[Part One] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]

I heard from Kyle two weeks later. Honestly, I was used to guys hitting me up immediately so I kind of wondered if he'd just forgotten about me. I was relieved when that wasn't the case.

He said he was having drinks with some of his friends and to meet him at the end of the night and he’d take me to his place. Kinda weird, but whatever. I really wanted to see him.

As I walked in, I saw him talking to a bunch of other old guys.

“She is pretty,” Kyle said.

“She’s hot,” Stan said with a grin, “I was gonna pick her up first, but I figured Kyle could use the fun,”

Kyle frowned, “Is that how you remember it going?”

An awkward smile slid over my face as I embedded myself with the group of men and made my presence known, “That’s pretty much how I remembered it,”

“Pretty girl!” the guys all said in unison as they lifted their assorted glasses towards me.

Kyle kissed my cheek and leaned over my ear with a smirk, “Sorry, they saw my phone,”

I nodded, reaching for the drink in his hand. Thankfully, he handed it over without a second thought.

I finished the liquor and listened intently as all the guys rushed to introduce themselves to me.

Tolkien was a cop. Clyde… I still don’t know what he actually does. Jimmy, was a comedian that I vaguely remembered my mother watching when I was a kid. Kenny, billionaire, needed no introduction but provided one all the same.

I felt more awkward and out of place than ever. I think Kyle realized it because he plucked the drink out of Stan’s hand and placed it in mine.

I was used to older guys vying for my attention so I knew how to navigate it. Older guys tend to like when I’m bolder, brasher, and more irreverent than their younger counterparts. These guys were a lot less intimidated by a woman with a mouth and I appreciated it. I was nervous but the whole thing went fine.

Kyle and I left first. I could hear the guys talking about how lucky he got before the door even closed behind us.

When we got to his place, I was slightly annoyed with having his friends sprung on me but I was horny enough to let it slide. At least, I would have let it slide if he let me.

He looked me up and down as he hung up his blazer and I tossed my purse and pink capelet jacket on his couch.

Kyle tilted his head as he watched me, “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” I lied and approached with my sultriest walk.

“I get it,” A slight smile slid over his face as he reached out and cupped my cheek in the palm of his hand, “You’re closed off because behind the walls, you’re soft – But you don’t have to lie to me,”

I rolled my eyes,“Don’t psychoanalyze me,”

“I’d never,” He chuckled, “I don’t think you could afford it,”

I’d had enough.

“You can’t ignore me for weeks and then spring your friends on me,” I fumed, “And you definitely don’t get to treat me like a trophy after the fact – Like I’m some stupid girl who doesn’t know that some guy is just using her for sex,”

He squinted like he was trying to solve a difficult equation, “How can I be using you for sex if I’m ignoring you at the same time?”

Okay, that time I’d had enough.

“Have fun explaining to your friends how you let a girl like me get away,” I said and spun on my heels to leave.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” He sighed as my hand reached for the doorknob, “And I wasn’t trying to ambush you – Okay, I was trying to ambush you, but for a good reason,”

I turned back to Kyle and crossed my arms, “There’s no good reasons to ambush people,”

“The guys I made those plans months ago and I’ve been swamped at work if you couldn't tell. I couldn’t cancel on them and I wanted to see you. Besides, I figured it would be a quick way to help you get to know me. Kind of like a crash course,”

“You want me to know you?” I asked and took a slow step towards him.

He smirked, “Yeah,”

I took another cautious step, “Why?”

He glanced away and rubbed the nape of his neck, “Because I want to know you,”

“You were really just busy with work?” I asked, walking the rest of the way to meet him.

He slid his palm over my cheek and I stood on my tiptoes to give him a kiss and he leaned in, but instead he brought his face to my neck. His other hand found my waist and his nose brushed against my earlobe as he inhaled my scent.

“Trust me, if it were up to me I would’ve had you in my bed every night,” He sighed, his hot breath washing over my skin, “You have no idea what you do to me. I haven’t been this fucking horny since high school,”

He kissed my neck and my fucking heart skipped a beat.

Then the hand on my waist slid over my ass and he pulled me up against him, “I can’t stop thinking about the way you move your hips,”

He finally pulled me into a kiss and I nearly swooned in his arms. I parted my lips and he pulled me into a deeper kiss, his tongue sliding right in my mouth.

His hand slid up my skirt, just to pull my panties down. He pushed my back against the wall and dropped to his knees.

He kissed my thigh as his fingers slid over my slit. I’m pretty sure I felt his breath hitch when he felt how wet I was. His fingers pushed inside and I almost gasped. I think it was the anticipation. I felt like I’d been waiting forever for him to touch me again. The way he moved his fingers felt like fucking magic.

He kissed my hip bone and his fingers curled to massage that sweet spot inside of me. I bit my lip, trying to stifle at least some moaning so I didn’t sound like some slut. I should have known better. Maybe he was right about me having walls.

Either way, he increased the pressure and speed. I felt like I was completely at his mercy. He buried his face against my hip, which pressed into him as his fingers brought me to my climax.

Or they would have if he hadn’t stopped just as I was about to hit my high.

I looked down at him and I swear that I meant to bitch, but instead I just whimpered.

He looked up at me and smirked, “You’re even prettier when when you’re needy,”

“I’m not needy,” I lazily protested.

“Hmm?” He licked a thick stripe over my clit and my entire body shuddered, “Really?”

I whined so loud that I was actually kind of mortified. Seeing the smug look of satisfaction on his face just made it worse.

He got on his feet and threw me over his shoulder. He carried me to his bed, my panties still down at my knees.

He dropped me on his bed and slowly slid my panties down over my ankles. I watched breathlessly as he pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. Then unzipped. Then stepped out of them.

He stroked himself over his boxer-briefs as he looked at me laid out on his bed. I could see every bit of how badly he wanted me. When he finally lost the underwear, I thought I was going to go insane just from the anticipation.

“I want to keep you,” He leaned over me and left a small kiss on my collarbone, “I’m gonna make you my wife,”

“...What?” My breath hitched and I had to replay the sentence in my mind at least three times to make sure that I heard him correctly.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” He rubbed the head of his cock over my slit, picking up my desire for him, “And I’ll make you feel good,”

He kissed my neck and I cupped his cheeks and brought his face to mine. I had to look him in the eyes.

“You promise to take care of me?” I asked him just above a whisper.

“I’ll do more than that,” He groaned as he sank deep into me and I gasped as I felt him push my body to it’s limits.

He held still for just a moment, both of us relishing the initial feeling of him immersed in me, and finally experiencing what we’d both been craving for weeks.

I grabbed onto his shoulders and my eyes rolled back when his hips finally started to move.

“You can do anything you want to me,” I said thinly, struggling to speak and not just moan.

His eyes were glued to me as I moaned shamelessly. His hand palmed my breast and his thumb brushed over my nipple, eliciting a softer moan from me that seemed to enamor him. He pinched my nipple and gave it a light tug, drinking in every soft sound I made.

A small smirk slid over his face just before he locked his mouth onto mine. He picked up the pace, his rhythm getting more and more intense. I couldn’t believe how good he felt, his cock was indulging my sweet spot with every fucking stroke. My hands ran down his back, my freshly manicured nails dragging over his skin.

His hand slid down, held onto my hips as he pressed me into his mattress and kept me in place as he irresistibly pounded into me.

My back arched and as I did my best to resist the orgasm. I lost the fight. My body seized up, and all the bliss that had built up inside of me swelled to an unimaginable, incredible level. Everything was incredible with him. My nails dug into his skin, my back arched even more sharply. I moaned brazenly. My moans were quivering and embarrassingly loud. The sacred space in my core fastened up around him and I grasped him like I needed him to live. Like he meant everything to me. Like I was desperate for him. I think I was.

As I trembled underneath him, the visuals and sensations of my orgasm pushed him over the edge. He groaned low in his throat and his eyes rolled back as his hips bucked into me. He sealed his mouth back onto mine as he drove deep inside of me and his hips noticeably twitched. I moaned into our kiss as his cock pulsed intensely and pumped me full of hot, milky spurts. His tongue slid into my mouth as he finished spilling every bit of his seed glazing my cervix.

He panted over me and pet my hair as all the tension that had built up in his muscles melted off of him. He kissed me again and a sly smile slid over his face, “I’m keeping you for sure,”

[ringsreforged]

Season 2, Episode 6 - Nat's Rambles

Okay – SO – Paulina is still on holiday, and I’m obviously DYING OVER HERE (Natalie, in case you hadn’t guessed) so TUMBLR. I HAVE RETURNED.

Truly though, I don’t think I’ve done this since S4 of The 100 which probably aired 100 years ago at this point…what has this show done to me…

ANYWAY. My immediate thoughts on Season 2, Episode 6: WHERE IS HE???????

Paulina Voice: All opinions herein have nothing to do with me, so only judge Natalie for them.

Important Note: I have only watched once, in a haze of stress and emotion, so I reserve the right to delete all of this later if I change my mind on any of it.

Arondir – Hello! Nice to see you! Glad you’re joining us for the battle!

I did like the detail of confirming that not all the orcs are on board with Adar’s war, but I was mostly laughing that ‘running through the trees’ is how the show has reminded us a character exists for two weeks in a row.

Rhun – I think this was the first episode where I was like GO AWAY, RHUN, NOT NOW. Though, I want to stress that I am super excited to see the conclusion of this, probably in episode 8. The Dark Wizard, the Gaudrim, the fate of the Stoors (honestly, I’m assuming they’re all going to be massacred tbh…which…the optics…but we’ll worry about that later…). In today’s episode, it just felt a bit like ‘hey, these characters still exist.’

I did love the little snippet of Tom and the Stranger, though I felt like it could have just been included in their previous scenes. He is 1000% Gandalf, and I stand by my opinion that this isn’t supposed to be a twist or a surprise. It’s just the narrative telling the story. Destiny or friend is super intriguing to me. It’s very Luke and Yoda from Empire, but I do wonder if his destiny IS to choose his friend…and in so doing, THAT is how he finds his staff…

Nori talking with the Gund was very sweet, and her willingness to give herself up to protect everyone was super in character. Poppy and Merimac were cute (I pray to all the gods that THIS was the kiss Morfydd teased but I doubt it very much…), and Poppy wanting to fight for the Stranger made me pretty emotional. However, I have some bad news…

Guys…I think I’m adding Poppy to DEATH WATCH. And I HATE IT. BUT I CAN’T UNTHINK IT.

Moving on…

Numenor – This continues to be the choppiest of storylines this season, but I do think the broad elements are super on point. And, actually, where we end up makes the Eagle sequence make more sense in retrospect. Pharazon didn’t have things locked down, Miriel is very much still a player on the board, and Mr. Eyebrows is THE BIGGEST HYPOCRIT.

Then again, if you told me I’d see Halbrand in the Palantir I’d probably touch it too…

Ahem. Loved that detail by the way! Part of the reason I felt like Halbrand would be his Numenor form was the small scene he shared with Pharazon back in S1, while Galadriel was taking out the guards. A connection was formed then – perhaps his eyes even bored a hole – and if Halbrand rocks up as an enemy of the elves, that’ll only make him more appealing.

Everything with Miriel and Elendil was absolutely stunning. He was willing to give his life for her, she was willing to give hers for his. WHAT ABOUT MY HEART. Honestly, from the way Owen and Cynthia talked about this season, I felt like they weren’t going to get anything at all romance coded. But I’m just starting to think people in TV only see active kissing as romance, because HELLO?? THAT’S THE SCRIPT????? THAT IS ABSOLUTELY ROMANCE????

I’m very excited to watch the sequence with the sea worm again, and to really let it wash over me (heh), because I was starting to get time anxious at that point in the episode (my brain starts panicking ‘don’t end, don’t end.’ Honestly, my brain SUCKS). But it was incredible, the implications were wonderful, Elendil’s relief was beautiful, and so was Pharazon’s rage. Also, the whole sequence was UTTERLY STUNNING, WOW.

Note for the show overall, or maybe just for myself, though – PLEASE stop spoiling so much of the season through promotional material. My biggest gripe with this episode is that I felt like I’d already seen/put together 90% of it.

Anyway, I’ve left Earien until last because this was a MUCH better episode for her (though, not letting her have any reaction to Valandil’s death was CRIMINAL). To the point that I’m now reforging (heh) my thoughts on last week – who directed her to have such bratty energy last week? Weird.

Anyway, we saw much more of her conflict and fluidity in this episode. She isn’t Faithful, she believes the new order is the way to go, but she’s also struggling massively with it. Her desperate hug with her father broke my heart, I had instant tears in my eyes, but then I also cheered when she brought Miriel in! What a great surprise that was! I’m REALLY interested to see where she goes from here…I’m assuming in the finale? I was sure she was locked onto a super dark path, but she witnessed Miriel survive the Valar’s judgement…will that sway her back around?

I’m going to finish this section with something that’s maybe a bit controversial…Elendil sucks as Earien’s father!!! Now, I’m willing to put this on pacing/editing issues, because I don’t think the show really wants us to feel this way. But good god, man. HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOUR DAUGHTER. I really enjoyed their cell scene, but sweet lord baby jesus, these two needed a deep conversation in episode 3. Watching him turn to go when Miriel walked in, and just forget Earien was even there hurt me man…even though I enjoy the Miriel aspect VERY much…

Like, I know you’re mad at her, but you’re all she’s got left…and your pride might mean she watches you die…can you be a little kinder to her???

Dwarves being dwarves, AKA perfect – Flawless. No notes.

The initial sequence with the Durin’s and Annatar was PERFECT. Annatar being rejected (that Balrog glimpse was SO EVIL), and Baby Durin’s flicker of hope. But then the reveal that Daddy Durin is deep in the shit because he’s really just being greedy. My gooooodnesssssss. The show has done SUCH A GOOD JOB setting this up, because we know Daddy Durin isn’t this way! We feel Baby Durin’s pain!

Then Daddy Durin has his IT’S MINE moment with the ring and swats his son away. Anguish. And the anguish only anguished harder when we cut to Durin and Disa. Disa talking about her love for her father-in-law, and her own father, and then DURIN’S TEARS. UGH. UGH. UGH. I was weeping, honestly.

I feel like Durin being suss of the rings this early on is a pretty big change (don’t quote me on this) but I’m for it. Watching Disa turn back Narvi and the others (poor Narvi) was beautiful and then that I LOVE YOU. UGH. UGH. UGH. PERFECT, I SAY.

I doubt Disa has anymore bats to summon, though, so IDK how the heck they stop what’s coming next. Is Durin going to get drawn away by his desire to help Elrond, leaving Disa alone and vulnerable?

I REFUSE TO PUT DISA ON DEATH WATCH, SHOW. I REFUSE. DON’T YOU DARE.

Adar and Galadriel – I wish we’d gotten more, especially because they released a clip yesterday that I obviously couldn’t resist watching, but what we got was JUICY.

I felt that Adar knew Halbrand was Sauron back in the premiere, or at least suspected it. Getting that confirmation paints their scene with the talk of the wine, the tears, and the kneeling in such a different light. TASTY.

I’ve seen people question this, because why did Adar not try and kill him there and then? To my mind, that’s pretty straightforward. He killed him once and it didn’t stick. And last time he had the element of surprise. He knows that Sauron is powerful enough to get out of his chains/to not get caught by orcs, which means he’s here for a reason. If Adar tries to kill him, best case scenario Sauron is off the board for another few centuries, but he’ll likely take down some orcs with him on the way out. And for what? For him to just come back again?

I think Adar decided to play the long game. I think talk of Eregion and Galadriel let him know that something more was going on, and he was biding his time to act.

So, Sauron promised Adar children. Honestly, the Adar/Sauron/Galadriel dynamic that played across this episode was the stuff of my dreams. Adar is holding his own relationship with the fella up against hers, and there’s so much subtext for both dynamics. Was there romance between both? Was it solely manipulation for both? Is Adar what Galadriel might become if she succumbs?

Galadriel definitely wasn’t being entirely truthful with Adar when she mentioned that Sauron promised an army, because that was more what she thought she could get out of Halbrand. And yes, sure, Sauron might have nudged her that way. But Sauron’s true offer came later on the raft, after the army had been delivered. Adar even acknowledges that she’s not being truthful, that she needs to let go of her pride. I feel like we’ll see that play out over the last two episodes for sure…

The line that really stuck with me from a Hal&Gal perspective was Galadriel finishing Adar’s line about the world with Sauron being full of colour, and without him it’s a dull grey. It fits with how Galadriel has come across to me this season. Since Elrond shut her out, she hadn’t had anybody to open up to, and she’s certainly not being fully honest with herself yet. That dull grey speaks to how she’s mostly been…quite contained? The only moments where she’s truly come alive were with Nenya, and when she was fighting.

Later in the episode, she DOES put aside her pride. She calls Adar Uruk!!! She opens up and sees the possibility of an alliance. And I think this goes back to Sauron too. She’s had a taste of darkness and the temptation of it, she knows she’s not secure from succumbing, and so her perspective of Adar – who was once an elf – has massively shifted. However, when he asks if he and his children will be able to return to their home…we all know the answer to that.

I actually never stopped to consider that Adar would be the one manipulating/tricking Galadriel, which is silly in retrospect. Because this much better explains how she ends up in a cage facing the elves (sorry guys, I don’t think she’s bait for Sauron…she’s facing the wrong way…). I’m looking forward to watching this bit again, as I feel it was a bit rushed on first watch. I would have liked to see these two chat for a good two scenes more, honestly.

Adar is falling into the trap, which is pretty devastating, and Galadriel is the one seeing through it. Honestly, I really don’t know how things roll out in the finale. I flip from it making no sense for it to be a S1 rehash, to being sure she’ll defiantly resist, to being sure the show is setting her up to not be able to. I JUST DON’T KNOW. I wish I’d never seen those stupid leak spoilers…the promo makes me think they are real, but then we MUST be missing full context.

Adar is still on DEATH WATCH but like…a little bit less than before, honestly? Mostly because I don’t see how we have time to get ALL the confrontations into the last two episodes. When Adar goes out – and he will – he deserves the biggest death.

Random aside: I am pondering sharing something of a Haladriel ramble/rant but I’m also like…IDK if I want the hassle, so we’ll see.

Celebrimbor and Annatar

Oh, Brimby. My heart aches. The sequence with him forgetting Mirdania’s name was so heartbreaking and watching Annatar isolate him so completely was chilling. First, by taking away the other smiths, then with the illusion.

I actually don’t think I have a lot to say on this section, because it’s been rumbling along all season and we’re just about to reach the climax. Sauron is Sauron’ing his hardest in this episode.

I am now quite convinced that Mirdania is not Celebrian (I already didn’t really believe it, but it’s firmer now) and I do think she’ll die. I think she’ll either be killed by Sauron himself, or she’ll be caught in the crossfire of the siege, and as she dies she’ll make eye contact with him and he’ll just coldly leave her. I feel like there has to be some sort of climax to the whole…you look like Galadriel thing, but I’m not really sure what that could be?? I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of time next episode, so maybe that really was a one and done so the viewer understood he’s thinking about her…

Celebrimbor trying to snap on Annatar, and that flash of true rage in Annatar’s face…oh god, next week is going to be soul destroying. I honestly can’t wait and dread it at the same time. Celebrimbor has fought so hard but then comes the illusion, then comes the lure – more talk of the Valar, of his work, of Feanor and the Silmarils. CELEBRIMBOR. GET OUT, PLEASE. GET OUT.

Sauron was then absolutely buzzing at the end there, as war came, and I wonder if there are more twists to come or if things play out fairly straightforward from here. We know the elves will charge the orcs. Does that happen straight away? Is there any communication? Because it’s complicated, isn’t it? On one hand, let Adar and the orcs try to take our Sauron…but then, you know innocents are being killed. You have to save them, surely?

And that’s that, I think? PHEW.

I must say, it’s harder to get through this season being in fandom because I KNOW SO MUCH MORE and I WANT SO MUCH MORE and people STRESS ME OUT. But, at the same time, it feels nice to love something this hard again?

Let’s get episode 7 and [redacted] out of the way fast, though, yeah?

[macabr3-barbi3]

God, That's Good

Chapter 7: Wait

Alastor tries to ease Lucifer's impatience, and Vaggie comes by for a favor.

Tags: more brooding, banter, A PROPER KISS

Before I rant about my writing wife some more, I do want to advise that once we get past this chapter, things will be getting quite a bit darker and more explicit. There's murder; there's blood; there's cannibalism; there's a little sex (not dark, but still warranting a warning I think LOL). If you know the musical/movie I'm sure you have a vague idea of what's coming. Be mindful of these things from chapter 8 onwards- I'll make sure to put specifics in the tags for each chapter but PLEASE don't read if you think these things might be triggering or upsetting to you.

Back to our regularly scheduled vibes- as always, huge thanks to @fraugwinska for helping me stick to a normal schedule and being one of my absolute best friends and most enthusiastic supporters 😍 ALSO thank you to everyone that has liked/reblogged/commented- this AU has me in a chokehold and I'm stoked that others are enjoying reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it

PSSSST: Wednesdays have even more to look forward to! If you love Alastor being a questionable hottie as much as I do, check out @hazelfoureyes with A Doe in Fall that is ALSO updating on Wednesday evenings! I promise I'm very normal about this story and Hazel's writing in general (she said, lying, being very not normal about either thing)

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

Despite her promise to visit soon, it’s a fortnight later and the Beadle still has not come by Lucifer’s barbershop.

He would be the first to admit that he broods on it. Between customers of his now booming business, he spends hours sat in his chair staring at himself in the mirror, trying to find the remnants of the man he used to be. He watches the tendons in his hands move as he shaves the gentlemen of New Orleans, thinking that they surely were not the same hands of Damien Diggory though they remained on his body all the same. Families came and went through his door, constantly reminding him of what he had lost, what the Beadle and Adam had to pay for, making his unease at her absence grow more every day.

He sat now in his empty shop with one of his razors in hand, staring down at the blue of his eyes reflected on the blade. He felt empty, numbness creeping from the pit of his stomach to his limbs and making his whole body feel like a hollowed out shell of a person- he looked the same, sounded the same, but the substance inside him was either missing or in the process of rotting where it sat. Charlie was still out of his reach, his revenge on hiatus until the Beadle saw fit to grace his shop with her presence. Everything was at a standstill, and the lack of activity beyond shaving was making him a madman, always pacing around the upstairs, approaching the entrance to his family’s old apartment and retreating like a coward.

A creak of the floor alerts him to the door opening, three soft knocks letting him know that it’s Alastor. He can hardly look the man in the eyes these days after he had embarrassed himself that night two weeks ago, when he had tripped into Alastor’s lap and pulled him into a kiss. It was embarrassment more than anything; thinking that he had reciprocated had been nothing but a figment of Lucifer’s drunk imagination, as Alastor hadn’t mentioned it since. Sometimes his eyes will fall on the younger man while Alastor is busy doing something else, and he uses those stolen moments to learn the curves of his face, imagining the blade skimming over his cheeks if he ever gave him the chance to give him a shave. 

Alastor comes behind the chair, leaning his elbows on the back above Lucifer’s shoulders. “I thought you had no customers today,” he says softly, watching Lucifer in the mirror. “What are you doing up here, hm? Plotting?” He smiles slyly, the corners of his mouth turning up and giving him a mischievous look. “Or pouting?”

“It’s been a fortnight,” he laments, snapping the razor closed and placing it on the stand beside him. “Why has she not come?” He stands from the chair and starts to pace- surely he looks like a madman, stalking between the apartment door and the sizable chest that held his spare towels and aprons, hands taking through his hair. 

Alastor sighs, his smile still in place. “Oh dear, a tantrum. How unbecoming. And just when I’ve started to think you were respectable.”

Lucifer scoffs. “Come now, Alastor- you don’t think it strange that she’s not arrived yet? You’d think such an ‘esteemed member of society’ could keep to a date.” Perhaps his air quotes and exaggerated accent were a tad childish, but it still makes Alastor laugh through his admonishment. “I’m… antsy, sitting around and waiting for her. They have to pay for what they did to Lilith, to me-”

“And they will.” Alastor leaves the chair to approach him, the proximity when he finally stops making Lucifer’s heartbeat pound in his throat. “Patience is key, my good man.”

“I’ve waited for so long already,” he groans. “Was fifteen years not enough? Must I wait another ten before I’ve avenged the wrongs against us?”

“So she’s a few days past when she said she would come,” Alastor says flippantly. “Do you not think that your over-eager manner won’t scare her off? Cause her to alert the Judge?”

Lucifer says nothing, not wanting to concede that he’s correct. He keeps his eyes on his feet, that hollow feeling returning to his chest and muffling the sound of Alastor’s voice as he continues talking. What would he do if she never came? Then surely Adam would never have reason to set foot in his parlor; he would never have his vengeance, Charlie would be lost to him, Lilith would be dead with nothing to show for his avenging her-

“Lucifer.” His head jerks up, and Alastor is watching him with narrowed eyes. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

He’s sure his face flushes. “Of course I did,” he lies, “you were… shit-”

The smile returns to his face. “I was saying,” he says softly, “that perhaps you can use the time to update your bearings. Get some flowers, hang some decor on the wall- that will likely sway the Beadle’s mind as far as recommending your establishment to the Judge, if the walls are not bare as though you’ve just moved in.”

“I have just moved in,” Lucifer points out petulantly. “I’ve only just started taking customers this last fortnight, I’ve not had time for bearings as you well know.”

Alastor claps his hands together, the sound making Lucifer jump. “I’ll send Husker for a floral arrangement for you- I think it will really cheer the place up.” He glances at Lucifer, a slow drag of his eyes up and down the barber’s body that almost makes him feel shy with the heat it contains. “I was also thinking that the unknown waiting period we find ourselves in is not a wholly bad thing. Perhaps I’m old fashioned, but I find that half of the fun in a plot is making the plan itself! Especially when one has a partner.”

And to Lucifer’s surprise he steps closer, bridging the already short gap between their bodies and taking Lucifer’s hands in his own. “I, for one, have also been enjoying this time simply getting to know you.”

He thinks his brain stops working, the way his mouth stammers to get out a response to that. “Oh! Well, I- I mean, I’ve also been, you know. Enjoying you.” Alastor’s head tilts in amusement, and Lucifer realizes what he’s said. “Enjoying your company, I mean! Fuck, I’m sorry-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Alastor murmurs, and he releases one of Lucifer’s hands to slide around his back, pulling him fully into his chest. “We did say that we would revisit the intimate portion of that night when you were no longer intoxicated. Tell me, Lucifer, are you under any influence at this time?”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he shakes his head. It shakes some logic loose- that kiss had been a mistake, the door wasn’t locked if a customer approached, he was less than ten feet from the apartment he had shared with his dead wife- but doesn’t stop him from allowing Alastor to lean in and press their lips together.

It’s so much better now that he’s not drunk. The kiss is soft and gentle for a bit, simply their lips touching as they learn the ways they fit against one another. It’s not until Alastor fists a hand in his shirt to keep him close that Lucifer even considers trying to deepen it. His hands tremble from nerves instead of liquor when he reaches up to hold the back of Alastor’s head, fingers threading through his hair while a broken noise tears itself from the back of his throat. Alastor responds in kind, making a soft sound that’s lost in Lucifer’s mouth as he parts his lips, his tongue shyly seeking entrance that Lucifer is all too eager to give him.

Lightning sparks behind his eyes, heat flooding his veins to pool low in his stomach, and he knows he needs to end the kiss before he does something that both of them may regret- though he hates to break the intimacy of the moment, ravishing Alastor in his parlor was not on his agenda for the day. He would need time to plan, to properly court the baker perhaps before inviting him to his bed- not to mention the extra time he would need to whisper pleading prayers to Lilith to forgive him.

Lucifer pulls back, his resolve nearly broken when he sees the way that Alastor’s lashes flutter, a noise of confusion escaping him. “We-” He clears his throat, embarrassed at the low rasp of it. “We should stop for now. Which is not to say that I don’t want to kiss you more! I do, very much,” he rambles, and Alastor merely blinks slowly and watches his mouth move as he had that first night. “Just, we should take this a bit more slowly. I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-”

“Rest assured, Lucifer,” he purrs, “you are not.” And that makes him lose his train of thought for a moment, with how husky and low the words come from Alastor’s mouth.

“Haah, well, still. I would like to take this a bit slower and do it right. If you would allow me to, you know, properly court you, I would very much like to do so.” He sounds stupid, he realizes, like a child with a crush asking them to check ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on a piece of paper; he just hopes Alastor isn’t put off by the formal request. Perhaps he would prefer something unspoken, more blinding, unplanned kisses that steal both of their breath and leave them panting and wanting more.

But thank God, Alastor simply smiles at him and takes his hand again. “I would like that as well,” he says, and Lucifer thinks he could just collapse from the relief he feels. “We shall go at whatever pace best suits us- though I hope you’ll forgive me if I seem a bit impatient at times.” He watches Lucifer’s neck as he says this, and the barber knows he follows the movement of his throat as he swallows. “But by that logic, if I can wait for what I want, surely you can as well.”

Lucifer opens his mouth to respond- to admonish him, or perhaps pull him in for another kiss- when he hears the creaking of the stairs. He has just enough time to step back from Alastor before the door swings open, and he manages to hide his disappointment that it is not the Beadle, like he hoped, but Vaggie.

“Mister Morningstar!” She crosses the room to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake. “It’s been ages, I haven’t had much time to make it to this side of New Orleans but I’m happy to see you’re in business. And hello to you as well, sir,” she offers to Alastor, who gives her a small smile and turns to tidy something on the shelf behind him. “Mister Morningstar, I admit I have a favor to ask of you- there’s a woman, you see-”

Alastor scoffs behind them, and Vaggie’s eyes narrow into slits before she continues. “She is kind and beautiful, and stubborn beyond belief; she’s opened my eyes to so many new ideas and theories, and- her guardian poses a problem to any intentions I may have towards her, but late last night as we talked and the Judge called her away, Charlie slipped this into my hands.” She holds up a key, dark and dangling off a red ribbon. “It must be a sign, don’t you think?”

“Charlie?” He could hardly dare hope that it was her- that the Judge Vaggie spoke of was Adam, that such an opportunity to have her back was simply being dropped into his lap like this. “Charlie. And, the Judge, you say?”

“Charlie- Charlotte, I suppose, that is her name. And the Judge Cain and his lackey, the Beadle Sera Dempsey. They patrol the alley behind Cain’s home at random hours but despite this we’ve found days that we talk for hours before they can interrupt us. She is perfection, Mister Morningstar, and even if she doesn’t return my feelings I want to see her free from these jailers she’s in the care of. If I can convince her to leave with me tonight- perhaps later in the week, depending on when that horrid Judge is home- could I bring her here for shelter for an evening? Just until I can find a coach for hire to take her North with me, or wherever she wishes to go.”

She finally stops talking, taking a deep breath while she waits for Lucifer to answer her. He finds his words stuck in his throat- yes, bring her, please, bring her to me- and is dismayed to find a lump in his esophagus, halting his words behind the threat of tears. He clears his throat, blinking his eyes a couple times to rid himself of emotion. “You may bring her here,” he says, his heartbeat rapid in his veins, and Vaggie’s face lights up with joy. 

“You’re a blessing, sir, thank you! I hope to see you again tonight, but in any case, I’ll come with Charlie soon!” She shakes his hand again, the force of it making him stumble, before she releases him and is back out the door as quick as a flash.

He turns almost absently to Alastor, who gives him a smile. “Who could have guessed?” He says cheerfully. “You’ll have her back before the week is out- possibly even before the day is done!”

“Charlie will be coming here,” he says distantly, and then it hits him like a train. “Charlie is coming! Oh God, what will she think of me? I need to- shave, maybe, or- should I grow it out? My beard was grown out when she was young, maybe that’s why she no longer recognizes me-”

“Lucifer.” 

Alastor approached him slowly, like one might a feral animal- and that’s what he had felt like lately, some untamed beast stalking around his shop, so perhaps Alastor was right to take a cautious approach. “Perhaps we focus first on getting her here before you spiral about letting her know who you are, hm?”

“You’re right,” he says, and thank God for Alastor to help him keep a level head. “Of course, making sure she gets here safely is the most important part. But- we should clean the place up a bit! How soon do you think Husk can bring those flowers you mentioned? And I can dust the apartment, make sure that everything is tidy-”

He’s interrupted by the creaking of the stairs again, the bell at the bottom ringing loudly to signify someone coming. He expects Vaggie again, or even perhaps the Beadle at last. But to his confusion, it’s neither- Sir Edward Pentious stands in the doorway, his small assistant at his side and carrying a bag that was far too heavy for her slight frame and causing her to tilt to one side. 

“Sir Pentious,” he greets cordially, “and… young lady.”

“I’m Niffty, sir,” she giggles, reaching a hand out to vigorously shake Lucifer’s. “Nice to meet you when you aren’t beating my boss in a shaving contest- and his shop is way nicer than yours too,” she directs to her employer, and he flushes a dark shade of red. “Are you sure you want to be a barber?”

“Niffty,” he hisses, and gently shoves her behind him. “I was hoping to speak with Mister Morningstar alone,” he directs to Alastor, who shrugs with a soft hum and leaves Lucifer’s side.

He meets Niffty at the door. “Well, aren’t you just a little wisp of a thing!” He says when he sees the bag she carries. He takes it from her hands and gestures her down the stairs. “Come along, I’ll see if I have anything adequate for you to eat…”

His voice and Niffty’s enthusiastic reply fade as they descend, leaving only Lucifer and the growing grin of Sir Pentious.

Again, a secret little 'so sorry, gotta do it' for the next chapter. Pour one out for Pentious y'all

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

[thesweetestofdreams]

The Gold and the Rust (Part 2)

How It Shines (part 2/??) 3k words

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (soon)

warnings: none I think

a/n: Hello, thank you so much for the warm welcome to this series. I'm so happy to share more, and I would love to hear your thoughts.

Sometimes the wizarding world felt like a fever dream, one that you would wake up from at any minute. The first time you saw magic, real and intentional magic it felt like you found something you didn’t know you lost. The strangeness you’d always felt suddenly disappeared even if for just a moment. As young as you could remember you felt like you were watching the world spin without waiting for you to catch up. You could finally catch your breath, that is, until everything came crashing down. People are frightened by things they don’t understand, even if it is their own child. This shining and magical world stole everything from you, and now you were left in the dark trapped between two lives that you couldn’t fit. 

You figured when your entire world is made of gold it's easy to be blinded by all of the reflections. That's how you thought of Gryffindors. It was strange to be in a house and only ever feel like you're viewing it from the outside. 

Few people left you with the feeling of an open door, a welcome and unencumbered view of what a true Gryffindor was. Lily Evans was one of those people. She was made for this life. It was clear from the moment you met. She was contagious and impossible not to like. 

Looking at her now as the two of you studied in the Great Hall, you could still see traces of her at eleven. The girl you met on your very first train ride to hogwarts. She always held an unwavering assuredness that no matter where she was she would find her place. She was there the first time an older boy with sharp eyes called you a mudblood. You hadn’t known what it meant at the time, but you knew it was bad enough that Lily broke his nose for it. She sought you out at the start of every year no matter how much work you did to avoid her. 

"Are you even paying attention?" She asked, finally looking up from her book. Copper hair fell over her shoulder. She looked like a painting from a museum, something timeless. She also looked rather annoyed. 

"Yeah yeah there's a rare pixie in eastern caves." You said trying to remember you were in the great hall and not your own head.

“That was ages ago, I asked if you were going to the Slytherin party?”

“Why would I?” Slytherin parties were notorious.

“Because it's going to be fun? And I'm going so you should.” She didn’t return to herbooks instead she watched expectantly.

“I don't know. I have a transfiguration’s essay.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t much of a good excuse, not for Lily.

“Remus is in that class and he said it wasn’t due until next week. Please come with me.” You were caught and Lily was giving you an irrefutable, pleading look.

You were about to answer when a surge of people flooded into the great hall. Their noise came with them like the roar of a wave, trickling down to where the two of you sat. 

You started to gather your things ready for your next escape, but you weren't quick enough. 

"You don't have to leave," a familiar voice said. It was James coming around to your other side. He smiled at them as he started talking to Lily about a new quidditch player. He always smiled like the sun, almost too bright to truly look at it. 

"You weren’t leaving, were you (y/n)," another familiar voice and a familiar arm over your shoulder as Sirius sat on your other side. He was looking at you with his usual mischief, already planning something surely. “What were you ladies talking about? It wasn’t me was it?” He winked, incredulous.

“It wasn’t you, Pads,” and there it was the last of the trio. Remus leaned over the two of you, if it was anyone else his height would be intimidating, but for him it was just, well, Remus. “It was, transfiguration?” he said looking at her work. “I thought that wasn’t due until next week.”

“That’s what I said.” Lily jumped from her conversation with James as Remus sat next to him. 

“Okay lads, well it's been lovely as always,” you said, sliding out from under Sirius’ arm. 

“Wait, you’ll come with me won’t you,” Lily added. She was certainly persistent. 

“She’ll go,” Sirius said.

“You don’t even know where, and I’ll speak for myself thank you,” you said, patting a less than gentle hand on his shoulder as you stood. 

Lily looked at you again with her best pleading face on display. 

“Yes, I’ll go with you, but can I finally leave now?” Your eyebrows raised as you tried not to smile at her giddy face. 

“Okay yes, go, you’re dismissed,” she said waving her hands to shoo you away. 

As you walked away you heard Sirius say something along the lines of never having any fun. Little did he know you were just doing your best to get through the year, fun came in rare moments you didn’t have the time for anymore. Really you were going to the party as a chaperone, to watch Lily have fun from your place at her side. 

If the wizarding world was a fever dream then slytherin parties were another realm altogether. The flickering candles were enchanted to an array of colors casting the room in darkened rainbow hues. It was as if the room was colored by stars. 

The floor to ceiling windows showed the dark expanse of the black lake only further reflecting the lights swaying with the water's movement. 

People were passing cups full overflowing with curling smoke and uniforms were long since abandoned for more festive clothing. 

Gryffindor parties often got a bit wild, but they still had nothing on Slytherin. Being below the ground, nestled in the dungeons, meant celebrations could be as loud as they wanted. Once you'd considered what life would be like if you were sorted into Slytherin, what it would feel like to be in the house of the cunning and ambitious. Then you were reminded that there were no more prizes in life that you wanted, only to get through.

The party was a swaying sea of green, house pride and what not, but there were occasional pockets of yellow, red, or blue. Some people it was nearly impossible to tell, blurring the lines of house division. 

Somewhere music was playing but it echoed through the large stone rooms so it seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Lily had pulled you in a large circle around the room, seeming to greet everyone you passed. The night was still young and there was much to do and much to see, although you did wish for the comfort of your dorm.  

"Do you want something to drink?" Lily asked loudly overcompensating for the music.

"No thanks, I don't feel like tumbling down a moving staircase tonight." You said picking up a sugar quill instead from the table of drinks and treats. Gummy snakes slithered along the surface, curling around discarded cups and tangling amongst each other. 

"Sirius was right, you know," Lily said, taking another drink for herself. "You don't know how to have any fun." 

You'd heard Sirius say it plenty of times. You could almost hear him now. Hearing it come from Lily had a different weight to it. "I have fun, I just want to make sure I remember watching everyone else fall on the stairs."

"Ha ha," Lily deadpanned. "Here," she shoved a drink in your hand, clearly ignoring you. Smoke snaked around your fingers from the lid of the cup. You looked at her incredulous. "Just to hold," she said, "for decoration."  

 A group of kids in the corner were already placing lively bets on the coming quidditch season. A few more were playing some game with a floating bottle spinning in the air. Lily continued to pull you along with her almost like a tethered balloon. She slid between Slytherins with sharp eyeliner and bold shadow, she slid between a group of hufflepuff girls with yellow blouses more fit for summertime than cold dungeons.

The entire scene was otherworldly an escape from the sometimes stifling class schedule. Everything seemed to burst with color and that's when you saw it. That's when you saw the contents of your cup begin to bubble over spilling liquid past your fingertips. You looked around the room trying to see if this was happening to anyone else. A cup in the hands of a younger ravenclaw across the room and several at the refreshments table began to do the same things. You looked down at the purple foam now dripping down the side of your cup until suddenly it exploded. You were bathed in a sea of colors. The contents of the cups in the nearby table flew in fountain-like streams up to nearly touching the ceiling. You were soaked in streaming colors, bursting from the purple foam of your cup. Pink trailed down your arms and a bright yellow pooled around your shoes. A few others by the table caught the brunt of flying colors, but none so bad as you and the ravenclaw boy, well it was hard to tell now that he was ravenclaw his house sweater was now closer to a kaleidoscope rather than the usual blue and bronze. 

You felt yourself slide into place behind your eyes, almost watching the scene unfold from a separate version of yourself. Separate from the you that partygoers were now snickering at. Separate from the you that more resembled a rainbow than your usual self. You didn't share in the merriment, nor did your face reflect the shocked "o" shape of Lily's. You were fuming, almost as if you could steam the color right off of you. You knew exactly who was behind this, better yet, you knew the exact three who were behind this. 

You stalked into the Gryffindor common room eyes searching for your target. Sitting on a couch tucked near the back three laughing forms came into view. 

Pink powdered hair and color-smeared face forgotten, you approached them. “Can I talk to you,” you whispered to Sirius leaning over the back of the couch. It wasn’t a question.

“Of course love,” he started, but quickly stopped as the three of them took you in. Shock dancing on their features. From the look on your face Sirius knew he was in trouble. Pulling him into a secluded 

“Do you really think this shit is funny?” you fumed. Sirius took you in his face falling more and more by the second, then a quirk of his lip.

“Pink hair suits you.” For a moment you were dumbfounded. This was meant to be an argument. 

“Can’t you just be serious for one minute?” 

“I’m always Sirius.” He flashed what was meant to be a dazzling smile, it just made you want to smack him. Instead of actually hitting him, you started to walk away. Clearly there was no talking to Sirius on this issue. 

He catches up to stand in front of you. “I didn’t know you’d be there (y/n). I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” Finally a sincere thought, let alone an apology. You sigh. 

“Please just leave me alone Sirius. I think that will be best for both of us. We don’t need any more distractions this year.” 

“So you think I’m distracting,” he says, quickly falling back into his usual ways. 

“Sirius Black.” It comes out far too loud from your mouth and immediately you wish you could snatch it back out of the air. You look over and James is peeking over his shoulder while Remus at least pretends to be engrossed in the fireplace. You run your hands through your hair pink dust staining your fingers. “Some of us are just trying to make it through the year and this,” you gesture to yourself covered in bright pigmented blotches, “only makes it harder.”

“I could try to help, make things easier, I mean.” He seemed oddly sincere. It suited him and for a moment you thought you saw a chink in his armor, that maybe there were pieces of you reflected in him. You pushed the thought away.

“I want you to stay out of it, to leave me out of it.” You were getting tired, of the night, of the conversation, all of it. 

“Well, I’ll try, but I’ve never been very good at doing what I��m told.” 

The Gryffindor common room was warm. It always was no matter the weather outside. As days marched forward the common room always seemed fixed in time. It was the one constant, it never changed when classes did. It saw everything. 

It saw you at every turn. It also saw you as you dashed through the portrait hole. Running extremely late for charms this morning.

After a long night of scrubbing colored powder from nearly every inch of yourself and catching up on assignments you’d meant to do after the party, you jolted upright, knocking a host of books off of the bed. Your hands were smeared with ink and a good portion of the parchment had smudged, illegible writing now pooling at the bottom. You muttered curses as you flew about the room for your uniform. With an undone tie and bedraggled hair you ran to Charms hoping you hadn’t missed the entire class. 

Stomach flipping as you made for the door, you had the vague sense to smooth down your hair and robes. Had the world been on your side the class would have been in the middle of chaotic demonstrations from students, but when was the world ever on your side? An overly dramatic hush came over the classroom and several students, a handful being Slytherins from the party, snickered at the sight of you. 

Sirius tried to get your attention, waving a hand at you and gesturing to the seat beside James. Ultimately this is what got Flitwicks attention, snagged away from his lecture. “Unfortunately that will be point from Gryffindor Ms.(l/n). Please have a seat.” Flitwick looked to the seat closest to you. As fate would have it that seat was also the one next to that of James Potter. It wasn’t particularly surprising as he had a habit of talking with his hands and a reputation for spilling ink jars.

“So Gryffindor, party too hard?” A voice sounded from the mess of green robes. You saw Sirius shoot a scathing look their way. 

“That’s enough distraction,” Flitwick reprimanded, quickly returning to his lesson. You could still hear your heart pounding over the scratching of quills. The thundering rhythm of embarrassment came with it. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t?” A whispering voice came from your right. James was restraining his usual sunshine smile.

“What?” You were still reeling from the sticky pull of sleep, your hands fumbled through your bag.

“Party too hard?”

“Oh, no,” you said, your mouth trying to catch up over the race of your heart.

“Sorry, it was meant to be a joke.” James said. “Here.” He slid you his notes, they were surprisingly diligent if only half legible.

"Alright everyone, as we are nearing the end of your time at Hogwarts, we must be sure you're prepared for the real wizarding world. In a real job you'll seldom work alone and for that reason I am introducing our first group project. I trust your desk mates will make worthy companions on this venture." Flitwick continued but you hardly heard him. A series of groans fluttered through the class, but Flitwick continued as if you had all just applauded. “This will be a considerable portion of your grade so please do take this seriously.”

You glanced down the table at Sirius who looked rather happy with himself. Remus smiled at you with a small wave, and James bumped your elbow with his. “Welcome to the best group,” he whispered to you. You felt a part of yourself crumble at the realization that you were now dependent on the Marauders of all people if you wanted to pass Charms and finally leave hogwarts. 

The rest of class was a blur between Flitwick going over the project and frantically copying James’s notes. He kept having to tell you what words were through all of his scribbling. Eventually after all of the trouble Remus passed his to you. There were little black stars drawn in the left margin. 

As class dismissed you did your best to get out and into the hall before being sequestered by Sirius. You were not successful. 

“Oh love you have ink on your cheek, James why didn’t you tell her?” Sirius said, standing next to you.

“I didn’t want to be rude.” James tried to defend himself. You were mortified.

Sirius began to lick his thumb. You take a few steps back bumping into another small group of students. 

“Here.” Remus rummaged through his bag pulling out a packet of tissues. 

“Of course you’d have that, Moony.” Sirius says, grabbing them up. With it comes a half bar of chocolate. 

“I figure you didn’t have time for breakfast, it's not much but…” Remus said trailing off at the end. 

“Oh great idea. I think I have a… an apple.” James pulled an apple from his robe pocket.

Sirius tries to wipe your face for you but you make quick work of doing it yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say, passing the packet back to Remus, “but it’s really not a big deal. Lunch isn’t too far off.” You can’t rightfully take food from them after telling them off just the night before.

“Don’t be coy, (y/n).” Sirius took both the apple and chocolate, pushing them into your hands. 

“Thanks,” you said, not sure what else you could say. They had no reason to be so nice to you. 

As much as you wanted to glare at them or make a snarky comment, they were being, well, caring. It left you feeling off kilter, like one push could knock you over. People didn’t treat you like this, not anymore. Not since your mother and father left their strange and scary daughter at Hogwarts only to never retrieve you, only to send you off again. It was another reason you would never be the same as the golden Marauders. You were from and you lived in two different worlds. 

“Okay well, I have a transfiguration essay to fix, but I guess I” you paused, “owe you guys.” Finally you seized the chance to leave. A series of objections fell from behind your back as you made your way to the library. 

You had to get a grip, remind yourself that staying away from them was what you wanted, was easier, was for the best, but how were you meant to work together if all you wanted was to avoid them? What was the better sacrifice, your vow to leave Hogwarts as soon as you can or the vow to never let anyone see who you really were? You were just going to have to make it work. You can work with the Marauders without falling into anything more. Sirius couldn’t rope you in if you tethered yourself to the truth, that no one wants the strange and scary girl left alone at the train station.

[coline7373]

When I say I dislike Anakin and Anakin/Padme...

You know what crept me out?

In Hostage Crisis of The Clone Wars, Anakin is chilling in Padme's office. He's supposed to be on a spiritual retreat but he prefers to try to convince her to go on a vacation with him.

First, no respect for her work. He's on a vacation. She's not.

Also, no respect for the importance of what she's actually doing. Which, knowing her, is probably saving people's lives. But that's less important than Anakin's vacation?

Second, no respect for his own mental health. Unless, of course, war and death by the millions is a fun time for him and not something he need to meditate over.

And third, he tries to convince her that if she really love him, she will goes along with that he wants (waaaaaaat) because, and I quote:

"Nothing is more important to me than my feelings for you."

I thought, for sure, when he started his phrase, he was going to say "nothing is more important to me than you". Which... clunky, but -okay.

But no.

"... my feelings..."

It's not Padme who matters.

It's Anakin's feelings for Padme.

(Which is so self-centered, self-serving, which resumes Anakin's motivation as a character sickeningly, which is Sith.)

If that doesn't tell you how wrong their romance is, I deeply encourage you to document yourself on what a healthy relationship looks like, because you may need it.

It's not romance.

It's poison.

[wolfandrain]

Me, starting Marry My Dead Body: This movie looks like it will be ridiculous and over the top and just like, a good lighthearted comedy. I am ready for a fun and silly time! :D

Me, finishing Marry My Dead Body:

[b4kuch1n]

fuck it sk8 sketches from da sketchbook. get sk8ed idiot

[alluralater]

just finished moving around/reorganizing my entire bedroom. i have cried three times today but now i’m laying in bed, my room smells of roses, and i’m eating french bread. this was not the bipolar hot girl mania i was promised but damn if i don’t do it well

[blatantlyhidden]

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