#like he always said they continue to follow the same instincts from the very beginning nearly 20 years later

[daddy-long-legssss]

The Story Behind The Song: Arctic Monkeys’ early ambitions on ‘A Certain Romance’

Lucy Harbron – Far Out Magazine | January 17, 2024

It was 2006. Mortgages were crashing, and businesses were going bust. Tony Blair was on his last legs in office as the longest-serving prime minister since Margaret Thatcher, and the hangover of ‘Cool Brittania’ was beginning to set in with an unexpected ferocity. Things were bleak when a young Alex Turner sang, “There ain’t no romance around there” through the public’s speakers. Arctic Monkeys were about to write themselves into musical history as the voice of a new generation.

The final song on their debut album, there has always been something special about ‘A Certain Romance’. In 2022, after the release of their seventh album, The Car, Turner seemed to find himself reflecting back on that 2006 track. To the musician, that early cut holds a clue to everything that was to come as he said the piece “showed that we did actually have these ambitions beyond what we once thought we were capable of”.

Coming in at over the five-minute mark, ‘A Certain Romance’ almost feels like the Arctic Monkeys’ version of a rock opera, summarising all the themes, feelings and energy that came before it on their seminal album Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not. It has the cheekiness of ‘Fake Tales Of San Francisco’ and the catchy instrumentals of hits like ‘Dancing Shoes’ or ‘I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor’. Utilising the northern charm of ‘Mardy Bum’, it stands as a final, neatly summarising point on the social commentary found in their early tracks like ‘From The Ritz To The Rubble’ or ‘Riot Van’. Really, it could be argued that ‘A Certain Romance’ is the ultimate example of Arctic Monkeys’ original sound, perfectly encapsulating all the things that made the world listen up and pay attention.

It’s like they seemed to know that, too, always allowing the song a special place. In fact, it was really the band’s opening remark. Years before the offer of a debut album came around, the group were a well-oiled machine with their own local hits. They had the northern live music scene in their hands as their homemade demo CD was passed around like everyone’s worst-kept secret. Beneath the Boardwalk features eight out of the 13 songs that would be on Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, albeit in a slightly different, lower-quality version. But the opening number, ‘A Certain Romance’, sounds just the same.

It’s all there, from the rolling opening drums to that final guitar solo. Recorded and produced in a rented studio at only age 17, the existence of ‘A Certain Romance’, one of the band’s most explorative and energetic numbers, in this form this early in their career feels like a diamond sitting in a mine. It proves that they were always onto something special.

They never needed any help. In fact, their producer, Jim Abbiss, noted that they even seemed nervous about the help. “I think they were probably a bit weary, like ‘who’s this guy? And is he gonna make our sound this or that.’”

They didn’t want anything to change too much, as the group already had the songs figured out. Turner certainly did, as the track’s meandering narrative about hometown lads, fights, and local boredom is already there. Talking on a podcast, original member Andy Nicholson revealed the story behind the song. “We had a practice room with a pool table in, and we had a party in there, and we invited another band who were friends of ours, and we all had some drinks,” he said. “Then something happened, someone throws a pool cue, someone throws a pool ball, and everyone ends up fighting,” he added, explaining the lyrics, “there’s boys in bands / And kids who like to scrap with pool cues in their hands.”

But the magic of Arctic Monkeys lies in their nuance. What begins as a snooty analysis of his local landscape is a genuinely affectionate take. “Well, over there, there’s friends of mine / What can I say? I’ve known ’em for a long long time / And, yeah, they might overstep the line / But you just cannot get angry in the same way,” Turner sings, looking around at his bandmates and lifelong friends. ‘A Certain Romance’ is not only a time capsule for the group’s beginnings but is an ode to all the people who were there with them. It’s an ode to the hometown that made them and all its various characters.

But as the last guitar solo roars to life, there is an unspoken statement that they’re going to be bigger than what they came from. “I remember when we were recording ‘A Certain Romance’ and having a conversation with the producer about the final guitar solo,” Turner told NME, recalling the moment these songs were reworked for their debut. But they wouldn’t let anyone mess with ‘A Certain Romance’, knowing exactly what they were doing and trying to say with that one. In the 2003 demo version, all the feeling is already there, and Turner wouldn’t risk it.

“There’s something that happens at the end of that track where we break some rules in a single moment,” he continued. What happens at the end of the piece feels even more special, considering how the album was recorded. “These are the songs we wanna do, and I think this is the order we wanna do them in,” Alex Turner told their producer, recounting the conversation in 2007 to RadioX, “And he goes, ‘alright, we’ll try to record them in that order as well.’” As the final song, that last guitar solo is the last thing recorded for the album, standing as a cathartic outlet and a chance for the band to prove themselves.

“We focused on the [emotional] effect of the instrumentals over the words,” Turner reflected on the track, concluding, “and I feel like we’ve been trying to do that again and again since then.”

+

[denaliwrites]

Pickin' Up the Pieces of the Mess You Made

Aziraphale x GN!Reader

Catch and Release Prompt: "Abandon"

Summary: Aziraphale takes you in because he's kind and soft, but the work that follows is not what he anticipated.

Soundtrack: All You Had To Do Was Stay by Taylor Swift

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Abandonment and associated trauma.

He'd found you behind the bookshop on a rainy afternoon.

He'd apparently heard crying and come out to investigate, only to find you leaned against the wall, sobbing your heart out. His hands had been gentle as he carefully peeled you from the wall and guided you inside.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you worried about the chair he'd sat you down in, but almost as if he'd read your mind, he told you not to concern yourself over it.

But you continued to worry, even as he bustled about, bringing you tea and snacks that seemed suspiciously fresh, a blanket, books that he'd somehow guessed were just the kind you liked. Anything to stop the tears.

Yet they continued to pour, though after a point it was because you were drowning in his kindness. Whatever you'd been crying about before was blessedly forgotten for the time being.

When the man asked you why you were crying (before he'd found you, he made sure to specify), you'd had difficulty explaining. It wasn't that you necessarily thought he wouldn't understand? It was just that...

Well, you kind of thought he wouldn't understand.

You weren't really sure why. He was (supposedly) human, after all, and many human experiences were universal. It was just, when you looked into his eyes, well... he seemed a little too... pure? Innocent? Untainted by the horrors of the world?

"It's nothing," you'd told him with a sniffle. "Relationship problems."

"Oh, dear," he'd responded, scooting his own chair closer to yours.

His knees were touching yours. Instinctively you'd withdrawn, pulling your legs up so that they were curled up to your chest. You'd pretended not to see the hurt in his eyes.

The rest of the day had gone by much like that.

He'd gone back to work, but had checked in on you regularly, and you'd sat in silence alternating between staring out the window and trying to read, with occasional sips of tea and nibbles of treats.

And when he'd closed the shop, you'd retreated off into the night without a word.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You could see the surprise in his eyes when you ducked into the shop a few weeks later.

He quickly hid it behind a warm smile, though, and walked over to greet you. "My dear," he started, beckoning you deeper inside the shop, "what a pleasant surprise. Please, stay for a spell?"

You wanted to say no -- you weren't even sure why you were here -- but you found it weirdly hard to say no to him. Something in his eyes just... glued you to the spot, in a way.

"I... yeah. All right."

He led you over to the chair you'd sat in that first day, and pulled up the same chair he'd sat in, too. When you sat, you made sure that your legs were curled up underneath you.

He saw it -- you know he did. But he said nothing, and his eyes were quick to trail away.

"What brings you back, my dear?" he asked casually.

Oh.

"I don't really know," you answered honestly.

"That's all right. You don't always need a reason to do things!"

He was way too chipper. Definitely had not experienced even a single terrible thing in his life.

You found yourself thinking good for him rather unironically.

The rest of the day was passed mostly in silence, though he did, somehow, manage to coax you into speaking a few times (other than the occasional "thank you" when he brought you things).

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Aziraphale knew from the very beginning that he had to handle you with “kid gloves,” as he’d heard people say.

You weren't very forthcoming with information about yourself, nor did you make any kind of effort to learn any information about others (you'd visited several times over the course of a few months and still hadn't asked for his name or offered your own, for example). You refused to be touched. You'd leave if he asked a question he could only guess was too personal for you.

Overall, getting close to you was a struggle.

But you kept coming back, so clearly you were getting something from him that you needed -- or, perhaps, you wanted to let him in and just weren't sure how. He wanted to help, whatever the case turned out to be, but he was having a hard time figuring out what exactly it was you wanted or needed from him.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You finally told him your name.

Six months of you visiting the shop, and you finally told him your name.

He was quite surprised by it, honestly. It had rather come from nowhere. One moment you were curled up on the chair -- your chair, now -- and the next you were beside him, handing him a piece of paper.

He read your name aloud and looked up to see your eyes light up -- before you dashed away and out of the shop like a frightened animal.

Well, it's progress, at least, he thought.

And you made more progress the next time you visited, by (again, to Aziraphale's surprise) asking for his name.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The next few months were an exercise in patience and moderation, as he had to learn how much information was too much to ask for. The good news, at least, was that you no longer fled the moment a question that was too personal was posed. You shut down and didn't answer, but that was still better than you leaving altogether.

Bit by bit, he started to learn more about you. And he really didn't like the image that was starting to form.

It had nothing to do with you, really. Moreso what had been done to you. Friends and family and partners leaving. Always leaving. No wonder you'd refused to get close for so long. Why you were still taking your time.

He realized now how many tests he had to have been given -- and how many he had to have passed -- to have gotten to this point. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a little proud.

But you were the important part of all this -- the most important part.

Now that he understood, he knew -- generally speaking -- what kind of help you needed, but not necessarily how to help you.

Luckily, you found the answer all on your own.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You'd been hanging around the bookshop for about a year. By then, Aziraphale (you still couldn't get over what an odd name that was) knew most of the pieces that you were made up of. And you knew he wished he could help more, but neither of you were really sure how.

And then you found Ralph.

Ralph was a tiny, sickly kitten that you found one day, curled up in the same spot Aziraphale had found you in that first time you'd met.

It was like fate, or maybe a miracle.

Especially as he warmed up to you rather quickly. Desperately, even. How could you even think of saying no to a tiny kitten in need? A sick one, at that. And he was all white, just like Aziraphale's hair.

Speaking of...

You wondered how he'd take to the kitten.

"Oh, dear," he said the moment you walked into the shop with the little thing held in your arms. "What did you find out there?"

"His name is Ralph," you told him, eyes glued to the kitten.

You didn't realize that Aziraphale's friend Crowley was there until you heard his voice saying, "That looks to me like a cat, angel."

"Yes, Crowley, I can see it's a cat," Aziraphale answered with a sigh.

"His name is Ralph," you repeated, finally looking up. Your eyes met with Aziraphale's, and he instantly melted.

"... Does Ralph need a place to stay?" he asked, and you beamed.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

With your care and Aziraphale's help (some of it unbeknownst to you), Ralph grew quickly. He got over whatever illness he had within a week of living in the bookshop, and from there everything was smooth sailing.

You visited more often, now that you had something to care for living in the shop. You talked more, having something nearby that relaxed you -- that wouldn't leave you. You loved that little kitten.

And Aziraphale was grateful for how the kitten helped you. He'd even go so far as to say he loved it, too.

And, well, it didn't take him long to find that he loved you, too, once you allowed him to get close enough to do so. He worried a bit, at first, that you didn't love him back, or maybe that you did but wouldn't allow yourself to admit you'd gotten close enough to someone for those kinds of feelings to develop.

But then one day, Ralph padded up to him with a friendly chirrup and when he looked down, Aziraphale saw a note sticking out of the cat's collar.

This wasn't unusual -- you'd bought a little parcel holder for Ralph specifically for just that purpose.

What was unusual, however, was that the note was asking him out to dinner -- and when he looked up to find you in the shop, you were, with great effort, making a point to look everywhere but at him.

So he wrote a note and stuck it into Ralph's little carrier, and off the cat went to deliver his message.

A few moments later, you called out from somewhere in the shop, "Seven sounds great!"

[gloryy-vs]

Neteyam x Reader miscommunication trope | Reader is a hunter, absolutely blood-thirsty trained killer, a total badass, completely outspoken,, and well our Neteyam is in love and in over his head and shy etccccc so he finds it easier to ice her out, (out of fear - maybe a little) and yearn from afar ... Reader has always had a crush but is convinced he hates her

<3

also im in love with you and all your works,, can we be friends or do I have to beg?

we are bsfs now. <3

Huntress’ Call

Chapter 1 : Fleeting

next || chapter 3 || chapter 4

characters: Neteyam x reader, Jake, Neytiri, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, Sky People, Quaritch

ratings: sfw, mentions of miscarriage, violence, war, angsty, enemies to friends to lovers, warrior, aggression

prompt: you’re an aggressive warrior, praised by the clan and close to the sully family. neteyam caught your eye but you’re convinced you’ll never be as mighty or honorable as he is. you also caught neteyams eye but he assumes he will never be as truly dedicated to the warrior life as you are.

Each day was a task. There was always a reason to fight, a reason to go on, something to want to win for. You were a brave warrior, continuing to fight now for your Omatikaya people, especially for your age. You were only 19, but had a strong heart. One of the best warrior the clan had seen when it comes to the second war against the sky people.

Many afraid to approach you, and many begging to work with you. You paid it no mind, there was too much to lose to be distracted by the little things. Neteyam was different though. You could tell he was a mighty warrior, the perfect eldest of the Sully children. He truly had the fighting instincts of his mother and father. He was the prime example of a man worth your time, but you weren’t too sure if he found you to be on the same level as him. You were the youngest of your family, having an older sibling by two years. Your brother Ols’eyo was an aggressive warrior, but wasn’t calculated like you were. Every move had to be perfect, elegant and angled. Not to say you weren’t ruthless. Just more cautious.

You weaved your way through the crowd of Na’vi, seeing them all prepare their bodies in paint. You yelled out a call to your own scouting team, a mixture of clicking noises and a yodel like sound. They came flocking to you, plucking their fingers from their foreheads. “You, and you. Watch westward, eagle view.” You said sternly, snapping your four fingered hand and they headed off, mounting their Ikrans speedily. You pointed two fingers at more of your scouts, “You two, watch east from side view. The rest of you take North and South as usual.” You said, taking your bow from behind you and taking steps toward your own green and purple Ikran.

Just as you bonded with your Ikran, Ye’ola. Jake Sully approached you, as if he had something important to discuss. You swiftly turned your head to properly face your leader, beginning to bow before he halted you. “I need you with us today. You’re one of the best we have. Have you sent those scouts off yet?” He said, brows furrowed as he began to reload his weapon. It looked like he just returned from a raid that led to angrier Sky People.

“Yes, sir. I can recall them back though if necessary.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. He was a very important figure to you, as he was very close friends with your father, and Neytiri was life-long friends with your mother. Your piercing eyes darted off to the side, catching Neteyam’s attention. He straightened his back, turning away from you immediately. Your own eyes fluttered away, turning back to The Olo’eyktan in front of you.

“Not needed. Keep them where they are. I’ll have someone sent to do the patrol for you. Come with us.” He said, jolting his head in the direction he came from. You were in no place to decline, and followed immediately. Ye’ola spread her wings, and you assumed she went to land near the Sully Ikrans.

.

Neytiri painted you in your Ikrans colors, swiping her fingers across your frame quickly. “You wear the colors of the Ikran, represent the ferocity of the first meeting.” Neytiri said, wiping her fingers off the purple and green paste.

You typically never wore Yeola’s colors on patrols, but as you’d be more on the front lines with the other warriors like Neteyam, it was important to showcase that. You stood, thanking Neytiri for her help before you grabbed your intricately carved bow. It had your families names carved into it, your father made it for you when you were of age to begin your training. You sauntered over to your Ikran, Neteyam following behind as he bonded with his. You mounted Yeola, bringing your visor down. You followed Jakes orders, his voice sounded gruff and demanding, “Let’s go!” He yelled.

You had your brown in hand, readying your arrows as you commanded Ye’ola with a ‘yip yip’. You took off quickly, gliding above with Neytiri to the left of you, you squatted above the saddle on your Ikran, instructing her to go downwards to the railroads site that was constructed not too long ago. You could see the bombs and bullets already going off down site. Na’vi of all genders riding fiercely and attacking with all they had. It only made you even more determined. You aimed carefully, arrows laced with a deadly poison. Gliding past the Sully’s yoir began firing, arrows piercing straight through the glass of large motion capturing robots, instantly killing the drivers and causing them to collapse.

Your Ikran angled itself, leaning one side more towards the ground as you got in even closer, arrows firing in a calculated manner to stop the human advances. You directed Yeola back up, flying steady next to Neteyam as he was only there to watch out from up top. Your head turned to him, beads that were woven into your hair were clicking against each other in the wind. He looked into your eyes, and you thought you almost saw a yearning in his eyes. Like he wanted to say something. Neteyam scoffed to himself, shaking his head and pulling his Ikran away from yours. The sudden coldness from the eldest Sully offended you, and the offense turned to irritation. Irritation led to violent outbursts in battle. You hooked your feet into the loops of the saddle on your Ikran, nearly standing on your spirit sister as you readied more arrows, but you heard Jakes voice come through the throat device he gave you. You weren’t sure of its proper name. You still decided to put all your trust into the Sully, knowing he only wanted the best for his best friends daughter.

“Your brother is in need of back up, eagle eye view report. Northeast from the head rails where I’m at. Over.” Jake said, you pressed the two buttons on your throat, “Understood. Viper heading there now.”

You yipped at Ye’ola, and she turned east, swooping closer to the ground so you could get a better view of your brother. You saw him, slashing away to his hearts content with no regard to his safety. Ols’eyo looked up, hearing your familial call, which as the name describes is a way to let relatives know you’re there. His angered eyes soften when he saw you coming in, but went wide as he saw the arrow aimed for what seemed like at his head. You fired, causing him to duck and luckily, your aim didn’t let you down as the real target was writhing on the ground from the indescribable pain the poison caused. “Ma’tsmuk. Use your head!” You said with a thick accent, irritated at his impulsive behavior. You gripped onto his forearm, hoisting him up to your Ikran and yipping out to return to the Sully’s.

Your aggression never ceased, arrows firing in every direction to protect unsuspecting or distracted Na’vi. They know just from your calls and yells that you were their aid. Protecting them from above to reduce fatalities. Your eyes met with Jakes as he slowed his Ikran down and motioned for his family to do the same. “I see you got him.” Jake said with sought venom in his tone.

“Yes sir. This Skxawng almost got himself killed. I pray I don’t pluck his eyes out.” You said sourly, slapping at your brothers chest from behind you. He scoffed, “I had it under control.”

“With Eywa you did! Mother and father don’t need to lose another child!” You yelled, your Ikran flinching at the anger mixed with sadness you felt which translates through your bond with the creature.

Jake allowed you to have your moment with you brother, knowing it was a sensitive topic. Though unbeknownst to you, Neteyam had his eyes only on you, how fierce you acted, brave enough to swoop into a high risk zone to get your sibling, just as he had. Jake waved his hand, signaling it was time to go.

“We’re done here. Let’s go.” He said, instructing his Ikran to speed up. As he did, all four of you followed behind him.

You and your brother were silent behind the family, feeling solemn from the mention of your mothers miscarriage. It was all because of the stress the first war with the Sky People. Her body was in shock and couldn’t handle the fear and grief of Hometree being destroyed. Your brother rested his hand on your shoulder, his common way of apologizing for the behavior he displayed in such a serious battle. You pressed your cheek against his hand, forgiving him once again for nearly sending you to Eywa

[angelynmoon]

Eldritch Steve verse

Part 9

I have an ao3, AngelynMoon, where this will be posted with chapter 10, I am no longer adding people for tags, (it's getting pretty long, sorry).

I still have no idea what to title this so feel free to leave a suggestion.

-

"So, Mate?" Eddie asked when the children were all laid out in piles on the living room floor, all of them more asleep than awake.

Steve blinked, how could Eddie know, then he remembered his threat, how he'd started it.

Steve felt a blush rise in his cheeks.

"I mean I don't mind, I just thought, maybe, we could go on a few dates first." Eddie continued.

"Why?" Steve asked, he alrwady knew Eddie was it for him, there was no reason for dating, he'd never love another.

Eddie was his, always had been, he'd have Eddie or no one.

Eddie blinked, "Is this one of those, um, Upside Down things?"

"What do you mean?" Steve asked tilting his head too far, looking at Eddie upside down.

"Stop that, I know you've been doing it to freak out Dustin and Mike." Eddie rolled his eyes as Steve popped his head back up the right way, "And you know what I mean, I knowyou've dated people before."

"Not really, they were just people Carol brought to help hide what I am." Steve said softly, "I don't need to hide with you, you know what I am." Steve reached out to cradle Eddie's face, "You know that I'm a monster and you are not afraid of me."

Eddie looked at him and turned his head to press a kiss to Steve's palm, "You're not a monster."

Steve blinked and then he chuckled, "Oh, Eddie, you are so very wrong about that. I'm a very unique monster, there's no doubt about that, but that doesn't change what I am."

Eddie opened his mouth, to protest maybe but Steve stopped him.

"You don't know what I did in the Down Below before I left. If you did, I don't think you'd look at me like that." Steve said honestly.

"Look at you like what?" Eddie whispered.

"Like you want to kiss me." Steve paused and then continued, "Like you want to keep me."

"What if I do, want to keep you, want to kiss you?" Eddie asked.

Steve stared at him, eyes unblinking for several long moments.

"There is a story I need to tell you before you kiss me, if you still want to kiss me after." Steve told him.

"I'll always want to kiss you, Steve." Eddie said.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Eddie." Steve said and headed up tbe stairs to his room, Eddie following. Once they arrived Steve sat on the bed against the head board, Eddie in front of him.

"This story begins long ago, or at least I think it was long ago, we didn't have clocks in the Down Below, not until Will was stolen, and even then they all read the same time, all the time.

"I was not the first to awaken, but neither was I the last, but I was different, so very different, and that difference was my undoing, it was the undoing of my kind as well, they just didn't know it yet." Steve began, not daring to look at Eddie, not brave enough to see the fear begin to form.

And by the time Steve finished his story, Eddie would fear him, Steve wouldn't blame him, even Wayne feared him after Steve told him everything, it was only natural.

Steve had committed a genocide, he'd practically created the Down Below as it was, leaving his kind to rot where they had fallen, it was the worst fate his kind had, to rot, to fester uneaten.

Steve had never once eaten one of hos own kind, that wasn't something he'd ever wanted, it had made him odd, broken, some had whispered.

But Eddie had to know, he deserved to know just what kind of monster Steve was, what kind of monster he was inviting into his bed and his life.

Even still, Steve would protect Eddie, even from Steve himself, if Eddie feared him too much Steve would let him go, even though it was against his every instinct to let his Mate leave, he'd let Eddie go, let him have another to make him happy.

And Steve, Steve would never spawn again, he'd waste away for centuries watching over Eddie's spawn, watching over Dustin's, protecting what belonged to his Mate for all his days.

Steve would never love another, Eddie was it for him, he wondered when that happened, this feeling inside him was much too old for it to have only begun at the boathouse.

But, Steve looked at Eddie, his last glimpse of him before fear would fill his eyes, he would not change it for the world, this one or what the Down Below had been before Steve had destroyed it.

--

Taglist: no longer taking requests for tagging in this verse.

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta @planetsoda @paintsplatteredandimperfect @irregular-child @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @steddieassheg0es

Ao3 is AngelynMoon

https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelynMoon

[melancholyswayafterdark]

Serendipity (2007!Raphael x Fem!Reader) 9.5

CHAPTER IX.5: Intimacy

Okay, before we start, this is my very first time writing an NSFW chapter or any kind of 18+ writing! Let me know if you enjoyed or if it was good for a first-time Raph having sex chapter? Also i lied LMAO I was so excited to write this chapter that I stopped trying to write the final chapter! Anyway, enjoy!

Some tunes while you read! -

Chapter key:

——— = a flashback is happening or ending (——— followed by italics means the flashback is beginning)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ or ====

= perspective change

~ = small time skip -----

And holy mother of mutagen, he wanted this bad. Because honestly, he couldn’t be more in love with you.

Raphael is putting all the knowledge he has to work here. He’s gonna thank Casey Jones after this because if everything goes the way Casey said it usually goes, yeah, he's gonna be pretty happy. Raph was never a porn guy, just for the knowledge, but it was unrealistic. So, he had to get it from the source. And the only source he knew of was…well…Casey. 

—-

“It’s natural, nothin' you see on the Hub, man.” That was the first thing Casey said before he gave a whole night class session on sex. Sex 101. It wasn’t until April overheard his class and stepped in, snatching the whiteboard and black Expo marker away as he tried to find the clitoris of the vagina HE drew.

“Coming from a woman, this is totally wrong. Here-“ April points the marker at the clitoris, “although it’s a terrible looking drawing-“ 

“Hey!” Casey whines. Hey, not everyone can be an artist, right?

“-it won’t always look the same. It varies, it may be smaller or larger depending on how aroused she is. It’s up to you to work with what you have and get her to that point.”

Okay, so it went on to be Sex 101 with Casey AND April- until Casey just sat back and put his two cents in now and then. 

“It’s going to seem foreign to you, but trust me, it’s human nature to reproduce, it’s science, or whatever Donnie would say, ya know, go wit ya instincts!” Casey exclaims from the opposite side of the couch. 

—-

“Oh…oh, fuck, fuck,” Raphael melts at the feeling of his erected dick sliding so smoothly in your tight hole, being squeezed by your walls. It’s a feeling unmatched by anything. His hand didn’t compare to the feeling of you taking him all in despite being so tight. He’s never felt this feeling before, and he will now fantasize about you like this all the time. How gorgeous you look under him, your cheeks flushed. 

“Oh my god- you…you feel so fucking good, Raph~” You arch your back slightly as a response to the sensation of Raph beinginsideyou. He’s inside. He’s inside you, feeling the most intimate parts of you. Your sex, your dripping wet cunt that squelches every time he pumps in and out once he gets his pace. Raph grabs the headboard to your bed with one hand and fondles one of your breasts with the other. Now, Raphael is an ass man at heart, but due to the position, he was a titties man at the moment. God, he loved how soft they were, he would never be able to get over that. 

Since it’s Raphs first time having sex, he wants it to last. Last as long as it can before he cums. Plus, he wants you to cum. All over his emerald dick; He wants your juices all over it, so much that it glistens in the moonlight when he pulls it out to admire your excitement, then to put it right back in and continue business as usual. 

“Yeah? It’s good princess?” He moans into your ear, before moving his hand from your breasts down to your clit, ringing it like a bell. 

Flick, don’t rub. 

“Yeah! Oh-!” Your walls clench around Raph as he continues toying with your sensitive bud, as it only makes him love the sensation of you squeezing him. 

“Fuck, Raph! Faster!” You’re holding onto his bicep while your other hand covers his own, motioning to him that it feels too good, but he doesn’t stop. He slows his fingers down, he doesn’t want you to cum just from clit stimulation. He wants you to scream forhim, not his fingers. 

His pace quickens, you didn’t have to ask him as he thrusts at a faster rate in and out. Raph continues looking at you, not once stopping. He loves how your face makes those cute expressions every time he hits a particularly good spot. How sexy your body is, and how it’s his. 

This goes on, your moans fill up the room as it’s mixed in with your boyfriend's grunts and (also, surprisingly) moans. Raphael’s moans are quiet, as he tries to cover them with his grunts. But, he shouldn’t cover them. They may be the thing that sends you over the edge. 

That, or how he switched positions to have you on top of him, as he’s now fully balls deep inside you. Once you get comfortable on top, Raph’s hands are already toying with your ass, squeezing it. He’s an ass man at heart, don’t get it twisted. 

And honestly, this may be the thing that sends Raphael over the edge. It feels way too good. 

Forget the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him every time you bounced on top, he couldn’t get over the visual. He was face to face with you, breast bouncing every time you moved. How you gripped the headboard with one hand like Raph, and the other on his plastron. How you were working hard to make him feel good. He deserved it. 

Okay, forget the visual, it may be the smell. Or is it the sounds? Everythingdammit. Everything is perfect. 

Raph’s heightened senses can smell your sex, how you possess a distinctive sweet aroma. The smell of sex fills the room, as well as the perfume you put on today. Or, it could be your moans and how they intensified when you were on top. Raphael’s dick was on the bigger side of the spectrum. Not only that but being 7.5 inches whennot hard? Yeah. This turtle was packing, and he knew it. And to top it all off, the curve his dick had was gorgeous. Now, before he slid it in the very first time, you may have stopped to take a look at it. It was like a regular human dick, only… well, green. In Raphael’s case, he was also pretty veiny. With all this being said, it allows for an ensemble of different positive genital features to all play together and causes you to sing in response to their music. 

It was perfect, and Raph was perfect. His dick felt so good that your cunt dripped with juices, and you loved to feel it flow out when Raph’s member slid out of you when you bounced too high. You were feeling an addiction coming on because you couldn’t wait for it to be back in. How you hungrily grabbed it and moaned as you slid it back in yourself, guiding Raph’s hands back to your ass, and asking if he could spank you. 

He complied, although he wished you asked that earlier because his hands would’ve been all over your juicy ass. 

Raphael smirks up at you, spanking you again. Only this time, he smacks it harder. 

“Takin’ charge now…huh? Ya doin’ so good, baby…fuck,”  He cooes as he praises you. 

The stinging sensation on your cheek along with his sexy low voice only causes you to moan in response. because you can’t seem to form a proper sentence with all the oxytocin being released to your brain. 

Raphael watched as your eyes seemed to roll back from all the pleasure, and he started to thrust into you from under in a hungry manner. He wanted to cum, he had to. Once he heard your moans get louder, he decided to take charge now.

“Here, arch ya back fa me, just like that,” Raph orders you around, guiding you into the position he wanted you to be in. As your ass was in the air and your face smushed into the pillow, you couldn’t help but blush, you could feel Raph’s gaze on your dripping wet pussy. 

“All that fa me?” He teases, bringing his thumb on your clit to begin circular motions. You feel the same wave of pleasure again, and when Raph fills you up once again with his now twitching member, you feel this knot in your stomach that must be snapped no matter what. 

Before he begins to move, Raph rubs his hands all over your ass, giving it a hard smack that fills the room and then starts quickly slipping in and out. Now, this is it. Between the view of your hot supple honeypot taking him in and going deeper than he’s ever before, hitting new places, Doggystyle was the perfect position for you two to reach full nirvana.

His pace is faster than previous, and when you beg him to do it harder, he doesn’t skip a beat. 

“Ya gonna cum fa me princess?” Hearing that intensifies the knot in your stomach, and you turn your head so that you’re looking at your boyfriend. 

“Y-yes,”

“Can’t hear ya,”

“Yes!”

Raph smirks, his eyes now fixated on watching your ass hit his pelvis, “Still can’t hear ya!” as his fingers once again find their way to your clit, causing you to scream. 

“Raph! Yes! I’m gonna cum for you!” Raph doesn’t stop, he can feel your walls clenching around him as he plays with your nub, only for you to spasm under him and scream his name. He’s coming to enjoy that, by the way. 

“I-I’m g-gonna~” “Dat’s right baby, just like that,” Something about Raph’s voice had been the deal breaker to send you over the edge, because you felt that knot coming undone inside you, and you arched your back in pleasure, as you reached your beautiful orgasm that came because of Raphael.

Raph’s thrusts calmed down so you could ride out your high, and his fingers slipped away and went back to gripping your ass again, and as soon as he knew you came down, he started up again. Only this time, you were more sensitive. 

“Mmm oh my- Raph!” Raph’s smirk falters when he feels himself about to cum, and he gives one last hard thrust into your pussy and pulls it out, watching as his cum squirts all over your back. 

It’s painted beautifully on you, and you feel the evidence of Raph’s arrival drip down onto your ass as you sit up, turning around to kiss Raph as his heavy breathing falters. Not caring about the mess you both made, you delve deeper into the kiss, your dry lips from all the screaming you did collide with Raph’s, and like usual, you melt from the sensation. It seemed like every time you kissed him, your body had no choice but to simmer down and feel at ease.

Once you both break the kiss for air, you decide to shower- together. Because that’s the best part of aftercare. The non-sexual intimacy between two people. Between that and the massages you gave to Raph’s muscles, to the thigh rubs he gave you, it was beautiful, what you two had become.

So before you turn off the light to go to sleep, the turtle in red engulfs walks up behind you and wraps his strong arms around you into a hug. Because you were the one. You always were. It took a long time, but, whatever. Time doesn’t measure anything but the rotation of the Earth. 

Raph’s first time couldn’t have gone any better. It was much more than he thought it would be. He expected you to be accepting, of course, but he wasn’t expecting you to be so…excited. Being a mutant and all, he’s not the most sexually desired by anyone. 

But you weren’t just anyone, and he was going to have to get used to being confident in the sex category of the relationship.

As you turn around to look up at Raph, you watch as his golden eyes twinkle with passion and love for you. You wrap your arms around his neck, going on your tippy-toes like you always did, and reciprocate the same embrace. Now, Raph’s not one to be soft nor angry ALL the time, he was somewhere in the middle, but right now, he was mushy soft. The high school sweethearts soft. The extreme lovey-dovey soft. Because you brought that side out in him, and this side would be something he would love to share with you.

[holly-fixation]

A First Instinct

Summary: A small flashback of Sephiroth's daughter's very, very early days. A side story of An Instinct to Protect.

This is the very first time she sees her father.

Inspired by this post by @altocat with many of my own twists.

...

The twenty month old sat in her chair exactly as instructed, quiet and without fuss. She never caused a fuss, but her caretaker always made a point to deter her from trying. Her hands tightened around the hem of her shirt to keep herself from twitching. She was good. She listened. She obeyed. Hojo said she would get something good if she followed his orders. She tried with everything she had to follow through. 

“You’ve done very well,” The scientist told her, leaning down to meet her inhuman blue eyes. “How do I know? We can have a conversation like this one. You do understand me, correct?”

She nodded, her eyes wide with excitement, absorbing any compliment he gave her like a dry sponge. “Yes. I understand.” Even through some semblance of baby speech, she tried to answer. Really, in her mind, all she did was copy things he told her. She didn’t think her speaking skills were anything impressive. She just hoped with every fiber of her being that she was good enough. But Hojo wanted her to be perfect.

“Good. Now I want you to watch this video, then I want you to copy what you see the boy do.”

She could copy. She was really good at copying. She nodded quickly instead of speaking. He always preferred her silence over her voice.

The scientist moved over to a desk and turned on the screen in front of the child. He typed various things on his keyboard before opening what he was after.

Soon the screen glowed with an image of the training room she’d only been in a few times before. A boy walked into the room with a sword in his left hand. He was much older than she was, about ten years old, and his walk reflected his strength. He was really strong. He had to be. He didn't say a word the entire time. Metal doors on each wall of the room rose to reveal deadly machines with blades sparking with lightning. Yet, the boy stood tall, turning with his left foot back and adjusting his blade over his shoulder. 

He moved like water, whooshing through each enemy like a storm without a single strike from the machines hitting him at all. He was like air. He slipped safely beside every attack before taking them down. How did he move like that? She had to figure it out. 

He was amazing, and he looked just like her. The same hair. The same clothes. She didn't want the video to end. She wanted to watch this familiar stranger for hours. 

Sadly, the video did end, cutting to black after every robot broke beyond repair. 

“Now,” Hojo tried to grab her attention, lifting a sword in a short black sheath from the side of his desk as he approached, but she was still in awe, staring at the frozen screen as her mind raced. It took a second before she looked up at him instead. “You will do exactly as he did. Hit the large button on that keyboard to restart the recording for reference. Today you will learn how to fight them. Tomorrow, you will begin training with smaller bots. Understood?”

She nodded as he placed the blade in her lap. She grabbed it tightly, trying to keep herself calm, one hand on the hilt and the other on the scabbard. “May I ask one question…?” Her voice was low, as if she raised it any higher it would squeak with her curiosity. 

He frowned and glared, making her look away. “What do you possibly have to ask?”

She gulped, her eyes already beginning to sting. She hated that tone. It hurt. “W-who is he…?”

The scientist adjusted his glasses as he contemplated in silence. A moment passed before he chose to answer her question, “He is your father.”

'Father' was such a hard word to copy, especially because she couldn’t figure out what it meant. She forced herself into silence even as Hojo continued. 

“Your parent.” Hojo returned to the monitor and pulled up a photo of a tall man with silver hair longer than she was tall. The child analyzed every detail subconsciously, silently. 

Father… The single title kept running through her head.

More admiration decorated her features. Good. Then she’ll obey quickly for her own silent goal. It would doubtlessly make her increase result production. “This is what he currently looks like. He is the soldier you will fight alongside when your skills prove you’re ready. And I don't want to hear any impatient whining. I'll tell you when it's time.”

She gripped the hilt of the sword tighter, but the expression on her face could not be more obvious. 

“Fine. Spit it out, but this is your last question.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she didn't know why. “...will he give me a name…?”

Hojo's brief moment of kindness dropped. She was bad again. She didn't mean to be! “You will get a name when you've earned one, girl. Right now you are unworthy of such frivolities. If your father chooses to grant you a name, I will accept it. Until then, you do as you're ordered.”

She nodded hesitantly, her little body shaking in her chair. “Yes, sir…”

“Now begin.”

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Thanks for reading!

[ifievertoldyou]

"Empty Page" by The Crane Wives is a tHAW!Q-coded song

i have always said that many of the crane wives' songs have vivid thaw!quackity energy.

but this one song of theirs has such strong thaw!q energy in particular that it would feel out place to me if it went on my thaw!quackity playlist. so i thought i'd share my ideas about it here, since it's not going to be on the big playlist analysis ^_^

(click under the cut to see a lyrical breakdown explaining how it applies to early thaw!q)

"I'm just a ten-cent copy/ Of people far more advanced than me/ Every thought that I've ever had/ Could be ripped from a magazine"

in my mind, this song is q comparing himself to quackity. after all, they are the same person, even if they were pretty different from each other in the beginning. but as q started to share the same worldviews as quackity, he started seeing himself less as his own person and more as just a weaker version of quackity.

i mean, he said it himself in chapter 35, "His ‘character’, that he couldn’t really see as much of a character anymore, in fact he saw him as his own person, so different from himself that he couldn’t even fathom how the other thought they were the same person. If anything at times Q felt less like he was his own person than the opposite, maybe because he had had to be ‘Quackity’s past-self’, maybe because of what had almost happened , maybe because Q himself did not know who exactly he was anymore."

q has lost his own sense of identity in this world, instead beginning take on that of quackity's.

and the fact that he's having basically the exact same pivotal moments (even if in slightly different ways), as well as making the same mistakes, as quackity. that does not help that notion of him no longer feeling like he has his own identity.

"Cut me a path, and I will follow it"

this could probably also be seen as him with quackity, but i can't help but see it as him with the sky gods. even if he doesn't mean to, q is following the path that the sky gods have planned for him very well.

"Draw me a line, and I'll avoid it/ I'm nothing if not obedient/ You have my word/ You have my word"

near the beginning of their relationship, this was definitely how q was around quackity. how he tried to avoid doing anything to bring his other-self's ire back upon him. and quackity even made some remarks about how obedient q was to him too, interpretting it as a thing q learned from manberg.

on the topic, that 'i'm nothing if not obedient' line has a double meaning, with how much the ram drilled that idea into quackity's head during manberg

"I am an empty page/ A muddled shade of paint/ I am a light that's burning out/ I am a light that's burning out"

q used to be so bright and idealistic and happy, but as the world continues to beat him down more, he becomes less so. the person that he was slowly fading like the dying light of a candle, as he loses that brightness and hope that used to be so prominent within him.

as for the first two lines, i've already touched on that theme quite a bit. especially during the beginning of the story, q's identity is torn up between who he used to be and who he is becoming. he is no longer himself, but he is not on quackity's level yet either; he's somewhere in between, a muddled color between these two versions of himself.

"I have hands that shake/ When there are cuts to make/ You’ll do it better, show me how/ You'll do it better, show me how"

q wasn't always inclined to violence. he hesitated to kill when faced with the burgundy cosmos ram, even with the bad feeling he immediately gave him, something that quackity would never have done after learning to trust his gut instinct. and q knows this too. that quackity wouldn't have made his same mistakes.

q really does seem to believe that quackity is better, stronger, than him. even in recent chapters that thought has still been present for q, albeit different Kinds of strength than it was before.

ever since the burgundy cosmos, q has no longer been afraid of quackity, instead he begins to strive to be like him.

"Tie me up by my callow belief/ Someday I'll make something out of me"

"Years of imitating mastery/ Only made me a better thief"

q was definitely more callow, more inexperienced when he first ended up in this different world. back when he never saw himself as ever being a murderer nor a cannibal, and back when he was willing to go vegetarian to uphold his moral values. but the sky gods had other plans for him, and his idealistic morals ended up either backfiring and hurting him more or else being impossible to uphold.

ok so it hasn't been Years. but. the point still stands. q started out just faking it until he makes it, and having unrelated behaviors be misinterpreted as something else, but now he's at the point where that identity is more real for him than his previous one is.

vv here's the song btw vv

as always, you can read thaw here, do it./th(/SILLY)

[calypso707]

Chapter six : Bringing out the dead.

Jill had managed to leave the old building, she had walked along the fence to the back of the gymnasium. She knew that Chris would try to get up high to find her, she too needed to get a good view of the academy. They had been separated for several hours now, she hoped nothing had happened to him. She was down on one knee, leaning against the stone wall. She could hear through the broken windows of the place swarming with infected, she still had two magazines hanging from her belt.  She had to find her partners.

She got up to finally walk around the building, her earpiece suddenly started to crackle and she stopped walking. She managed to distinguish a voice despite the multiple cuts but it wasn't Chris's, she recognised the voice of their pilot. "Can anyone hear me?" he sounded, panicked.

"Ryan, do you copy?”

"Jill? I can't fucking hear you well.. We need to get out of here as soon as possible, but I can't get through to the others, there's someone who... Shit! What the hell?!”

"What's going on? Give your position!"

But nothing, just more and more intense crackling sounds and the connection finally went dead. At the same time, an explosion sounded a few miles outside the academy, lighting up the forest. Jill looked up at the sky, watching the dark smoke billow over the trees. Her heart missed a beat, someone had blown up their chopper and Ryan with it. This was getting personal, whoever was responsible was trying to get rid of them. She took several deep breaths before moving on, she had to stay calm, she walked around the cloakroom and saw the cathedral, which was a little further northwest. In the corner of her eye she saw a person running, dressed in a black cloak. Perhaps it was a survivor who was finding a way to escape.

"Hey, wait!"

She decided to follow the person, her hand tightening on her gun. She stopped when she saw her standing still, a few metres away and Jill pointed her gun at her. Her instincts told her that this was no mere student. Barely did she have time to ask questions that a hand-to-hand fight ensued between them. She knew she had a chance against her opponent, who seemed to be quickly overwhelmed by the former STARS' attacks. Jill was very good at close combat, both with her fists and with weapons. She took three steps backwards, panting slightly. Her opponent happened to be a woman who was most likely wearing that cloak to preserve her identity and was certainly involved in the events at the academy.

Jill aimed her gun again, determined to shoot if she had to. The woman in front of her was holding a kind of grappling hook in her left hand. Useful for getting out of dangerous situations.

"Who are you and what are you doing here? I won't repeat myself.”

"Questions, always questions..." said the woman in a laugh. "It's imperative that we prevent the Raccoon City incident from happening again, isn't it?"

"It was you who provided the virus to that Bindi, wasn't it?"

"I only gave her the power, she had the choice to use it." she had a deceitful smile on her lips.

Jill frowned in disgust and pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing the hood and pulling it back to reveal the face of the woman in front of her, she had Asian features. The intruder had only tilted her head to the side, continuing to stare at Jill with her penetrating brown eyes, neither impressed nor terrified.

"Well, that's annoying, I liked that coat..." sighed the dark-haired woman. "Tell me, how is your dear, sweet Chris? Still alive? I heard he fought that girl. What was her name again? Ah yes, Nanan..." she took a few steps to the side. "Her mutation is fascinating, she releases toxins that contaminate those exposed, it's simply impressive!"

Jill's gaze was still locked on the intruder, her heart beginning to race in her chest, she prayed that Chris had not been exposed to the gas this creature was releasing. Just as she was about to retort, a deafening noise was heard and a powerful light blinded the BSAA agent, violent gusts of wind forcing her to cover her face. Above the two women, a helicopter gunship flew overhead, but it did not belong to the BSAA. The cargo platform opened above them and a huge crate attached to a chain came crashing down nearby, shaking the ground. She almost fell from the violence of the impact.

"I'd love to stay and chat with you but I have other things to do. And your present arrived, Miss Valentine, for old times' sake." the woman winked at her, a smile on her lips. "Wesker was an idiot, fortunately we have managed to recover everything, there is only one thing left to do.."

The intruder sent her grappling hook up to the top of the crate to stand on it. She unhooked the chain and wrapped her arm around it as she climbed back into the helicopter's cargo hold. Jill didn't have time to do anything as the aircraft was already moving away and the woman with it. A noise in the crate caught her attention and she aimed her gun, her heart racing. The iron of the crate buckled more and more until it completely imploded to reveal the creature inside, a creature she recognised far too well.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

The giant was slowly getting to his feet, easily ten feet tall. He didn't exactly look like the one she had faced a few years before, anyway, she had finished off that son of a bitch. She felt herself being overcome by panic, she thought her heart was about to burst. She thought back to Brad's death, to the relentless pursuit through the blazing streets of Raccoon City.

The Tyrant leaned forward to gain speed and charged at Jill, he sent his fist towards her but she narrowly dodged it, crashing down on the floor. She straightened up quickly and emptied her clip at him, breathing hard. Her bullets had no effect on the creature, this time she was going to die. He turned to her and kicked her in the stomach, sending her crashing into a tree a few feet away, not far from the fence. The violence of the punch took her breath away, she was breathing heavily. She struggled to get up, her arms trembling, as he quietly approached her.

"Jill! Get down!" shouted Chris, further away.

A loud gunshot rang out around her and a powerful burst of fire slammed into the giant's head, sending him crashing backwards, the ground shaking under his weight. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Chris, Piers and Ricky high up on the roof of the cafeteria. It was Piers who had fired the shot. She let out a sigh of relief and her nerves suddenly gave way, tears welling up in her eyes, she thought she was going to collapse but she had to get to them at all costs.

"Right on time.."

[vendettamuses]

@unrclypirxte SAID: A "meeting" had been called at the compound, and any and all privateers could attend; the subject was a mystery, but Hoyt always promised a good show. So, a crowd had formed in the courtyard, and a good ten minutes after, Hoyt came out to greet them. He did his usual spiel, giddy as always, before gesturing to the doors behind him. They burst open, followed by a sizeable group of juggernauts. Then, thrown to the floor as far as they could make it, was Beth. Bloody, a little bruised, and gasping for breath.

"Which brings me onto the next topic: favouritism! I get accused of that a lot with her," Hoyt gestured to Beth as she tried to stand, promptly getting kicked back down by one of his men. She wheezed. "But that isn't the case, as you can see! Now! This is an important lesson in trust. But! Any questions before I continue?"

⚔️ Random Asks // ALWAYS ACCEPTING! ⚔️

Piper's was never fond of gatherings. Not on Rook anyway. Any and all "group events" typically featured one thing: torture and death. Hoyt ruled by fear, and to maintain that image often meant using someone as an example. A sacrifice. This place was a god-damned cult at times, with individuals sharing the same ideas about the value of life being counted in coin and the use of brutality to ensure "efficiency." She hated it. The whole place was practically and Mythic Pain Farm.

But what else was there to expect from Rook Island?

As much as she hated it, Piper had managed to develop something of a stomach for it all. The gore, the guts, the blood, the torture, the death and the suffering. Her prey side had always demonstrated a strong aversion to it in the beginning. But the predator side had been all too easy to adjust to it. Enjoy it even. A natural, instinctual response that she had been fast to squash.

It was bad enough that she worked on this wretched island, she was not becoming an Instinct Criminal while she was at it.

But in that moment, everything seemed to blank out. The tolerance, the restraint, the small modicum of composure she'd managed to scrape together in order to avoid losing sanity, her very self to the instincts she kept buried deep within her. All of it flew out of her and into the jungle the second she saw Beth's body hit the ground. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. Her mask slipped and her whole expression became awash with horror.

Without thinking, she rushed forward and screamed BETH's name. She slammed through the crowd, pushing the men that towered over her aside in a mad dash to get to her companion as she was kicked to the ground. The sight had undoubtedly given Piper the fright of her life. But all that fear, that horror - it boiled into a white, hot, vengeful anger as one of the juggernauts caught her arm and pulled her back. She turned and snarled at the bastard with a sharp.

"LET GO OF ME YOU BLOODY BASTARD!"

Somewhere outside of her own pulse in her ears, there was laughter as another grabbed her other arm and helped pull her back to watch. She struggled against them, kicking and flailing against their iron grip. They had her up off the ground, ears pinned back and snarling like a wild beast. She glared at Hoyt, teeth bared and teeth rattling with a positively feral sound. No words.

Only the silent promise that she'd slaughter them all if he didn't let Beth go right this instant.

[zangyo]

@nvrcmplt said (inbox):

❝ you are a part of me that i had lost. ❞ //Weiss

     THOSE WORDS HAD COME so suddenly that they had given Nanami pause. The rice that he had scooped into a bowl was temporarily forgotten by him as he turned to look at the other with raised brows and slightly widened eyes. ‘You are the part of me that I had lost.’ Sometimes the words that left Weissager’s lips were enough to make even him feel flustered. However, that wasn’t abnormal. They had made him feel this way many a time over the months, the Hound shifting from a companion to something so much more with the ticking of time. ❝Weissager…❞ How new all this was… These sensations, these feelings… Nanami was a man who had grown accustomed to some sense of routine when it came to his life, but upon becoming a sorcerer once more, even that had shifted and changed. Ah, but what a welcomed change that had been. Placing his bowl down upon the counter, he turned to fully look upon the other with softened gaze. The normal hard lines upon his features had smoothed out, reminding another that Nanami was not some exhausted middle aged man, but someone far younger still.

     ❝When it say it like that…you make me wonder if you mean literally or figuratively.❞ Did it matter either way? From the very beginning, he had felt as if he had always known Weissager. Even as they had followed him about the city in their bestial form, not once had he ever felt distrust towards them. Where one might have felt unease upon bearing witness to a hellhound, a creature of legend that should strike fear into the hearts of all things mortal or otherwise, all Nanami had initially felt was…intrigue. His instincts hadn’t flared when their eyes met, nor did his fingers twitch as if to prepare to grasp his weapon in hand. ❝Either way,❞ he continued, lips curling once more into a small, nearly imperceptible smile that only a select few would ever bear witness to, ❝know that I feel the same as well.❞

     Let’s keep going forward together.

     Nanami wasn’t sure where his path would lead, but…if Weissager was there with him, then he needn’t look upon his feature as a dark and looming presence in the distance. Instead, he could meet it with confidence, with some semblance of peace rather than quiet trepidation. ❝You are the part of me that I had lost.❞

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

📖Persuasion📖 Listen- and Read-Along, Chapter  Twenty-Three

Note: This is the Chapter where 99% of the Plot is Wrapped up; Chapter Twenty-Four is short, and mostly a coda).

Discussion of Chapter Twenty-Two Starts Here.

Audio of Karen Savage’s LibriVox reading on YouTube, starting at Chapter 23, part one (Parts one and two, together ~36 minutes at normal speed)

Moira Fogarty’s Reading at LibriVox (~40 minutes)

Text of  Chapter Twenty-Three at Project Gutenberg

Synopsis:

Anne, the next day, continues to put off her meeting with Lady Russell, because she promised to meet Mrs. Musgrove, Mary, and Henrietta at the inn where they are staying. When she arrives, she finds Mrs. Croft there with Captains Harville and Wentworth, though Mary and Henrietta have gone out early, with instructions to keep Anne there until they get back.

While Mrs. Musgrove tells Mrs. Croft all about Henrietta’s engagement, Captain Wentworth writes a business letter that Captain Harville can’t bring himself to do (requesting a portrait of Captain Benwick be reset, with a new inscription to Louisa, replacing the dedication to Harville’s sister, Fanny). Captain Harville and Anne have a friendly debate about whether men or women are more faithful in love. And Captain Wentworth, eavesdropping, finds a crafty way of joining in without divulging their shared, secret, past to all within earshot.

(I’ll leave the synopsis there)

(the Not-so-Obvious) Quotes that stood out:

She had promised to be with the Musgroves from breakfast to dinner. Her faith was plighted, and Mr Elliot’s character, like the Sultaness Scheherazade’s head, must live another day.

Mr Elliot is protected by the Plot Clock; Lady Russell can’t be informed of his true character until after Anne’s future with Captain Wentworth is assured. I do like the simile Miss Austen chose, though.

“Yes, dear ma’am,” said Mrs Croft, “or an uncertain engagement, an engagement which may be long. To begin without knowing that at such a time there will be the means of marrying, I hold to be very unsafe and unwise, and what I think all parents should prevent as far as they can.”

Anne found an unexpected interest here. She felt its application to herself, felt it in a nervous thrill all over her; and at the same moment that her eyes instinctively glanced towards the distant table, Captain Wentworth’s pen ceased to move, his head was raised, pausing, listening, and he turned round the next instant to give a look, one quick, conscious look at her.

Ooh. So -- So -- close.

and the unaffected, easy kindness of manner which denoted the feelings of an older acquaintance than he really was

And:

“Ah!” cried Captain Harville, in a tone of strong feeling, “if I could but make you comprehend what a man suffers when he takes a last look at his wife and children, and watches the boat that he has sent them off in, as long as it is in sight, and then turns away and says, ‘God knows whether we ever meet again!’

Have I mentioned how deeply I love Captain Harville?

Okay, one obvious quote:

“Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything.”

As true 200 years ago as it is today: Own Voices matter. Always ask: “Who’s telling this story? And to what end?”

And Yes, of course The Letter that Captain Wentworth writes to Anne while eavesdropping on this conversation is very romantic. But that’s not the part that made me actually catch my breath when I first read it. This was:

and sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following words:

That chair would. have. still. been. warm. Just think about how intimate that is, for a moment.

There have been fleeting moments when they’ve touched before, in this novel: When Captain Wentworth lifted her into the Crofts’ gig, and they almost touched when he lifted little Walter off her back. But other than that, the power of the secret between them, and the pressure of social expectations around them have been, like a static electricity force-field around each of them, keeping them apart. And now, as Anne reads Captain Wentworth’s most intimate confession of love, she can still (literally) feel the warmth of his presence.

Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied some mischance to damp the perfection of her felicity. It could not be very lasting, however. Even if he did not come to Camden Place himself, it would be in her power to send an intelligible sentence by Captain Harville. Another momentary vexation occurred. Charles, in his real concern and good nature, would go home with her; there was no preventing him. This was almost cruel. But she could not be long ungrateful; he was sacrificing an engagement at a gunsmith’s, to be of use to her; and she set off with him, with no feeling but gratitude apparent.

I tell you, as a person who grew up with a physical disability, with a caring circle of well-meaning friends and family who want to help, But ... I Felt This. When they’re doing their best to help, because they really do care for you, but the help they’re giving isn’t exactly helpful. You can’t be truly angry with them. And maybe next time, they’ll be there to give the right kind of help...

And remember: At this point in her life, Jane Austen was, herself, dealing with chronic pain and used a cane. I can’t help but read that passage as a bit of autobiography.

They were on Union Street, when a quicker step behind, a something of familiar sound, gave her two moments’ preparation for the sight of Captain Wentworth. He joined them; but, as if irresolute whether to join or to pass on, said nothing, only looked. Anne could command herself enough to receive that look, and not repulsively. The cheeks which had been pale now glowed, and the movements which had hesitated were decided. He walked by her side. Presently, struck by a sudden thought, Charles said—

“Captain Wentworth, which way are you going? Only to Gay Street, or farther up the town?”

“I hardly know,” replied Captain Wentworth, surprised.

This is almost as adorable as their conversation in the concert hall lobby.

And none of the previous filmed adaptations capture it to my satisfaction. The 1971 BBC Television adaptation comes closest, being sticklers for book accuracy as they were, but the framing, and stilted 1970s acting, completely miss the suspense on Anne’s side, or the uncertainty on Captain Wentworth’s. The 1995 adaptation has Wentworth standing just outside the inn. And the 2007 adaptation has Anne receive the letter second-hand from Captain Harville, after which she runs a frantic sprint the full length of Bath (2000s concept of Drama!, I suppose).

In his preceding attempts to attach himself to Louisa Musgrove (the attempts of angry pride)

Captain, Sir. If I may be so bold to suggest: If you think attachment is formed through deliberate. concerted, effort, you may very well be somewhere on the aro-ace spectrum*. Just saying.

But I too have been thinking over the past, and a question has suggested itself, whether there may not have been one person more my enemy even than that lady? My own self.

[. . .]

I have been used to the gratification of believing myself to earn every blessing that I enjoyed. I have valued myself on honourable toils and just rewards. 

As I said, after Louisa’s fall: he’s a man who has packed his entire sense of self into what he can do, and when the moment came when there was nothing he could do, he broke down a bit.

Like other great men under reverses,” he added, with a smile. “I must endeavour to subdue my mind to my fortune. I must learn to brook being happier than I deserve.”

*Chuckle* Get yourself a life partner who can admit when they’ve been wrong.

*By which, I also mean the author, in this case.

[wolfsbanesparks]

is there an original story that you would like to write or get writing it somday? if so would you share an excerpt??

I have had a few original stories I've entertained over the years. The one I'm most invested in is called The Devil in the Details. It's a paranormal mystery/cold case type of story. It's basically two stories in one set five years apart.

Basically the "present" follows a young man as he searches for clues as to what happened to his younger brother who went missing five years ago while.

The "past" follows that younger brother, a high school senior, as he uncovers secrets of the occult in their hometown that ultimately lead to his disappearance.

It's an interweaving plot where the younger brother's disappearance haunts the narrative and the reader is left to wonder who or what is responsible while picking up clues.

I've written a (very rough) 20-30k of the story and haven't even gotten into the meat of the story yet.

Excerpt under the cut

His father stared back at him slack-jawed and confused for a moment, the smell of the whiskey on his breath souring the air between them. 

“Your mother said you came by, I didn’t think she’d let you in the front door.” His voice was strangely hoarse, though he spoke clearly. He took a few steps forward and Issac was able to get a better look at his face. It was more lined and sagging than he expected. It was as if he had aged twice as fast as everyone else.

“She didn’t. I let myself in,” Issac straightened his posture as he spoke, trying to swallow the defensiveness that always came from talking with his parents. He realized he had a couple inches on his father, though they were likely close to the same height when the man wasn’t slouched and hunched over himself. 

All he got in response was a huff of what might have been laughter, though there didn’t seem to be any humor in it. 

“Did she tell you why I’m here?”

Samuel paused just staring at Issac for a moment before raising his glass to his lips. He downed what was left in one swig and stared into the now empty glass. He nodded his head before dragging his hand down his face. “Yes...yes she did” His voice cracked with emotion and Sirius thought for a moment that he was going to start crying. Instead he gently pushed past Sirius and headed towards his study.

Sirius followed him on instinct. “So are you going to help me? Or are you going to completely shut me out like mom did? Because I’m going to find out what happened with or without you”

Once in the study Samuel all but collapsed into his desk chair. He gave no indication he was going to respond or even that he had heard his son. He stared at his desk for a long time. Long enough for Issac's anger to begin to boil over.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or not?” Still no answer. “Dammit dad! I’m asking for your help! This would all be so much easier if you just cared enough to do something instead of just sitting on your ass and--”

“Don’t you dare say I don’t care enough!” Finally Sam looked at him. There were so many emotions swirling in his somewhat clouded eyes. Pain. Fury. Sorrow. 

“Then help me figure out what happened to my brother”

“I already know everything I need to know”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Samuel took a deep shuddering breath. He avoided Issac's eyes as he spoke. Instead his eyes drifted to a photograph on his desk. Issac wondered briefly if it was a photo of Noah or if that was too much of a cliche for his father.

“He’s gone and we’ll never see him again. Not in this life...Not even in the next one I imagine.” Before Issac could protest his vague and unsettling answer Samuel continued. “He’s gone because he was good, so good, and I wasn’t. I couldn’t protect my own family from the monsters in my closet. I was a coward who thought he could outsmart the goddamn devil himself and Noah paid for that mistake” His voice broke again and this time a few tears did spill out of the corners of his eyes. “This hell is so much worse than the one imagined being dragged to and that bastard probably knew it”

“Are...Are you saying you know who took him? Who killed him?” The icy chill of realization brought bile into his throat at the mere thought. “What the fuck did you do?! Who was it?!”

“He doesn’t have a name, at least not one I ever knew” 

“Well give me a description, a location--something! You can’t just say cryptic shit like that and expect me to leave it alone!”

“Please Issac, nothing good will come from you knowing more.”

“TELL ME!” 

“I made a mistake, years ago, before either of you boys were even born. If I had known that this would be the price I never would have agreed!”

“Why can’t you give me a straightforward answer? Or some details that might actually help!”

“Because knowing the details will get you killed just like it got him killed!” Orion was breathing heavily, tears streamed down his face, making him look red and blotchy. “The two of you are so alike that way. You keep digging and digging, looking for a truth that is going to hurt far worse than not knowing ever could. I lost everything because I couldn’t stop him from learning the truth. I will not make that same mistake with you.”

“This isn’t over”

“I know”

“You can’t stop me. I have a right to know”

“I think it’s best you leave Issac, before your mother gets home”

[humans4vampires]

Can I request an imagine where the reader is a vampire and runs into Edward in the woods and they've never met before but Edward and the reader have a mind-melding moment where he recognizes a lot of himself in her and he questions what he has with Bella?

In Another Life

A light wind whipped your cold cheek, spilling your hair across your face as you watched the sun glint its last beam above the mountain range before you. Your skin glittered back in response. The sky melded brilliant shades of magenta and lavender - and that new color you’d never known before your new life that couldn’t be given a name.

You were lost for awhile, grounded by the gravity of the beauty around you. You stood at the cliff face long after the sun had departed and the night had illuminated the sky with its galaxy of stars. The full moon left you feeling hollow somehow and the longing made you restless again.

You took a few gentle steps forward allowing gravity to pull you back to the Earth. You felt, just for a moment, like you were a part of the night’s sky. You launched yourself into a sprint, enjoying the caress of dirt on your bare feet. Your mind flooded with each detail of the forest as you moved through it without a trace. You wondered then if you were real at all.

The thought was nearly distracting enough for you to miss the instinct to defend yourself - just nearly.

You suddenly felt the presence of another predator and froze in place. You poised yourself involuntarily. You thought in that moment how strange it was that your body was not always your own.

The footfall approached you quickly, with even more speed than you had anticipated. You calibrated the movements and sounds easily and in an instant knew you were being met with another of your kind. Your body tensed more firmly, though the vampire slowed their pace as they closed in on you. Strange, you thought, that they would slow themselves to a mortal pace.

You waited impatiently as you stared through the thick of the trees until you saw him for the very first time.

His stature was strong and confident, but unimposing. His reddish hair was apparent, even in the moonlight that filtered through the ancient pines. His bright, golden eyes struck you in a way you couldn’t explain. You felt as though your heart had suddenly began to beat again. You brought a hand to your chest and parted your lips to speak, but his smile stopped your words. A short breath escaped you and oddly, you felt a sensation you knew only in your mortal life. The vulnerability you felt was not composed of fear, but of faith.

He had stopped a good distance from you, his pensive eyes locked on yours. He seemed deep in thought, raptured the same way you seemed to be. The curiosity burned you.

“Hello,” he said gently. His words felt like velvet caressing your skin. He was careful to keep his distance and continued to move in slight, humanlike ways.

You studied him silently for a moment, before replying a breathy, “Hello.”

“I apologize,” he said, sheepishly, running a hand through his already tousled hair. “I didn’t expect to run into anyone here. My family and myself haven’t come across another of our kind in quite some time.”

“Your family?” You questioned.

He nodded, smiling a crooked, gentle smile. “Yes,” he replied. “My wife, father, and a few others make up our coven here.”

You mulled his words over in your mind. There was something in the words he spoke that made you feel another lost emotion. You couldn’t quite remember what the pang you felt was called. How strange, you thought, that you could forget something with your perfect mind.

He waited patiently, but broke the silence again. “Are you passing through?”

His tone was polite to conceal concern. You smiled gently, but you weren’t sure why you had the urge to comfort him. “I am,” you said. “I’ll be on my way. I apologize for the interruption.”

You wanted to move, to begin your exit, but you weren’t in control of yourself; your feet refused to carry you away. Your eyes were fixated on his. You caught a glimmer of sadness in his eyes, too, as he studied you.

“You’re welcome here,” he said softly. “No need to apologize.” He moved closer to you then, removing some of the distance between you. As he approached he said, “I’m Edward Cullen.”

“Cullen,” you laughed lightly, “Carlisle. I should have guessed.”

Edward seemed surprised, “You know my father?”

“Your father,” you matched his crooked-smile. “I’ve not met him myself. Though my creator has spoken of him fondly, and in jest.”

You thought of the stories you’d heard of Carlisle, the vampire with an insatiable desire to cure himself and those around him of temptation. You thought it sounded rather like a cult.

Edward chuckled, seemingly in response, “I suppose Carlisle is a bit strange to our kind, but then we all are.” Edward shrugged, gesturing toward himself. His golden eyes illuminated with a new glimmer.

“You’re out here hunting then,” you surmised, smelling the fresh blood of an animal. “Alone?”

Edward nodded, taking another half step as a human would in conversation. It made you want to fidget, yourself. You brushed hair from your face.

“Strange,” he said. “I know.”

You shrugged, “I’ve not tried it myself. Though, I could see why you’d want to.”

His eyebrow arched, “You do?”

You nodded. “I’m quite new to this life,” you looked down at your feet. “So I feel rather close to my humanity in a sense. Feeling closer every day.”

“I’ve found our kind feels quite the opposite in the beginning,” Edward sounded surprised again. “Perhaps more related to God than man.”

You shrugged and brought your gaze back to his. “Perhaps I’ve never felt like either.”

He stood, silently searching for something in your eyes. It made you feel another pang of humanity. Had your heart begun to beat again? Your hand was at your chest again. Neither of you broke your gaze.

“Edward?” you breathed.

The sound of his name on your lips seemed to startle him.

“Yes?” He replied.

“Are you closer to God or man?” Your words were above a whisper. You moved closer to Edward, your body still not your own.

He looked pensive, still firmly studying you. He didn’t answer, but something in his expression made you believe he was whatever you were.

As if you had spoken your sentiment aloud, Edward froze, acting like a vampire for the first time since your meeting. His body was rigid and you felt the need to apologize again, but for what, you weren’t sure.

“My family is waiting for my return,” he said, his eyes pained.

You nodded, fixed in place. “Goodbye, Edward.”

Edward turned slowly, humanly, toward the exit of the clearing. You watched him walk away and caught yourself wanting to follow.

He turned back to you quickly, his eyes boring into yours one last time as he spoke your name with grit and regret.

Your endless future rolled out in front of you as he disappeared into the night. How tortuous, you thought, that all that time had passed before you and how many things you had lost in it.

Had you told him your name?

[landinoandco]

Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

[fivelakesinwriting]

Night Driving (Drew Starkey)

Author's Notes: This is a continuance of the request Night Swimming - I had so much fun writing that request that I wanted to make a second part, and you all said "heck yes". Here we go. Let me know what you think if you have a moment, please! It's admittedly shorter that Night Swimming, but I don't think it's any less fun and I hope you love it all just the same! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smutty(ish) - some clothes are removed. Lots of touching, and kissing.

Requested? Yes! You all wanted a sequel, and I couldn't help myself to write one either. Requests for OBX are also very much open.

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Drew picked her up for dinner on a mild evening for dinner. He was on time like he always was, pulling up into the driveway with a flash of his high beams at her just to make her smile as she stood on the front porch while she waited for him.

"Hey, good looking." Drew grinned as he hopped out of his truck and took the few shorts steps to stand in front of his girl.

"Hey, handsome." She smiled as she placed her hands on his sides, pressing up on her toes to be closer to his height.

"Ready to go?" Drew asked while he wrapped one arm around her waist, then dropped his head down to press his lips to hers quickly. He smiled softly at her little pout, then led her towards the passenger side of his truck.

Drew opened the door for her, his hand gripped to hers as he helped her into the truck. He raised his eyebrows and felt his conviction to be on time for dinner begin to fade as he saw a flash of her backside under her little skirt. Drew pursed his lips as he shut the door once she was settled safely in the front seat then made his way around to the driver's side, his fingertips brushing over the scruff of his chin as his mind began to race.

"Let's go! I'm so hungry!" She groaned out as she pressed her hands to the roof of his truck, her head against the headrest.

Drew smiled softly as he started the ignition of the truck and made his way back out of the drive, and towards their destination. The drive to the restaurant where everyone else was meeting them felt long. It was a place they all frequented, and Drew knew the route well. But for some reason the drive today felt excruciatingly long.

Drew reached the turn off for the restaurant, but kept driving. His eyes focused on the road as one hand clutched the steering wheel as the other ran his thumb over his bottom lip.

"Wasn't that our turn?" She questioned as she turned her body to look out her window at the passing street sign.

"Gonna take the back roads. Nicer drive. Less traffic." Drew mumbled as he took a quick left turn onto a bumpy, dirt path that had her squealing and reaching for the handle above her window.

"Drew! There's nothing out here! Where are we going?" She replied, her knees pressed together. She reached for the dashboard with one hand as the other kept her white knuckle grip on the handlebar over her window.

Drew didn't say anything in response. He simply kept driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them. A small smile on his face as he heard her squeal again as they hit the larger bumps in the dirt path. He found a spot on the side of the road that was covered by some trees, his truck still somewhat visible in the light of dusk. He pulled over, put the car in park and pulled up the emergency brake just to be sure.

"That is just cruel." Drew stated firmly with a jab of his index finger towards the short, pleated black skirt she wore.

He pulled his keys out of the ignition and dropped them in the cup holder in the centre console. He ran a hand over his chin, his fingertips catching on the scruff of his chin.

"You don't like my skirt?" She asked as her fingertips tugged at the hem of her skirt, the fabric pulling up her thighs a little more.

Drew breathed out a laugh before he reached over to the passenger side, unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her hips. He pulled her over the console and placed his girlfriend on his lap to make her straddle his thighs.

"I like it a lot, and I think you knew that when you put it on." Drew muttered as he placed his hands beneath the short hem of her skirt on the backs of her thighs.

"This road doesn't go anywhere. Does it, Starkey?" She questioned softly as she combed her fingers through his hair.

"This road? No. Just leads to some guy's fields. It's a dead end." Drew whispered as he turned his face to kiss her wrist, his fingertips creeping up the back of her skirt to feel for her panties.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just kidnapped me so you could fuck me in your truck." She shivered as she felt his fingertips hook into the strap of her thong.

"It sounds bad when you say it like that." Drew teased as he hooked his fingers in the back of her thong, kept them there, and did nothing.

"So, what's it like?" She asked as she wiggled in his lap for more attention. His touch was too light on her backside under her skirt. He was gentle with her, but never feather-light. His touch always had some sense of urgency.

"More like, I took you somewhere pretty to get under your skirt before dinner." Drew grinned as his right hand moved from the strap of her thong and into her hair to pull her close.

"Make your move, Starkey." She challenged as she pulled her short nails down the front of his shirt, her thighs squeezing against his as she held her breath waiting for his kiss.

Drew leaned forward to close the small space between them, his lips pressed to hers. He released a sigh of relief through his nostrils at the feeling of finally kissing her that day. He wrapped his fingers around the long tresses of her hair and gave a small pull, his tongue slipping in her mouth when she whined.

Drew's girlfriend pushed the bottom of his shirt up over his abs, her fingertips pressed into the deep plains of his muscles. He smiled against her mouth as he felt her fingertip move down his abdomen towards the buckle of his belt.

"Let me help." Drew smiled through a heavy breath as he removed his hands from his girlfriend's body and reached between them to pull the prongs of his belt for her. The anticipation and sexual tension in the cab of the truck was almost tangible at that point. Drew wasn't sure who wanted it more.

"Thank you." She sighed with relief as she reached for the button of his jeans only to have her hands swatted away, her body being thrust backwards against the steering wheel which caused her backside to give a prolonged honk on contact.

"Goddamnit, Drew!" She gasped as she jumped forwards, her arms wrapped around his neck and her body flush against his once more.

"Well, sit your ass in my hands and that won't happen again." Drew growled as he reached beneath her skirt to grab hold of her backside in both his palms firmly. He gripped at the flesh of her ass and squeezed, smiling as she dropped her forehead down to his with a pout.

"Kiss me, Starkey." She begged as she adjusted her arms around his neck, her hands combing through his hair again.

"You kiss me first. Everyone knows when I start with you, then I get razzed all night long. You kiss me first, pretty girl." Drew demanded as his hands pulled at the flimsy strap of her thong and he realized with the right twist, he could snap it.

She released a whine from the back of her throat that made Drew feel primal, every carnal instinct in his body being lit like a match. He bared his teeth to her before he grabbed at the back of her neck and pulled her down for a kiss that would no doubt leave both of their mouths hot and swollen.

Drew's free hand pulled at the strap of her thong, doing his absolute best not to tear it into pieces. He tugged it down over the swell over her backside and to her knees, reluctantly removing his lips from hers to look between them to see what he was doing.

Drew adjusted himself in his seat and with an easy lift of the woman in his lap, he tugged her underwear the rest of the way down her legs. He reached up and hung the lace material over his rear view mirror for safe keeping.

A loud honk erupted from around them. Drew pulled his hands from under his girlfriend's skirt and glared at her.

"That wasn't me! I can barely move you're holding me so tight, Drew." She panted as she pulled her hands from his hair to move her own hair from her face.

Drew quickly averted his eyes from her lips, swollen from his kiss and looked into the rear view mirror. Behind his truck was a sedan that he knew all too well.

"There's someone behind us." Drew growled through gritted teeth.

"We were followed? Do you think it's the guy who owns those fields? Drew, farmer's have guns. Big guns." She rambled as she reached for his belt and quickly redid the buckle for him as she tried to look through the tint of his back window.

"It's no one with a gun, Sweetie." Drew soothed, his body relaxing when he realized his reaction to the vehicle behind him had frightened her.

He lifted her up and gently placed her back into the passenger seat of the truck, his fingers reaching up to pull her underwear off of his rear view mirror - which he handed to her with a soft smile.

"Be right back. Put these back on, hon." Drew smiled as he leaned over the console and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before he practically kicked open his door and hopped out of the truck.

Drew stepped on to the dirt road and closed the door harshly behind him, refusing himself a look back at his girlfriend as he pulled her underwear back on. He stood quick, purposeful strides over to the sedan that idled behind his truck and knocked on the window with a closed fist.

"Dude, I swear to god. We followed you because we thought something happened. We saw you take that super hard turn passed the restaurant and come this way." Rudy giggled as he rolled down the window, his lips sucked between his teeth as he stared up at his friend who was less than impressed.

"You can't text?" Drew asked while he shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes narrowed at the blonde man who still giggled in the front seat.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Next time I'm certain your truck has been stolen, and you and your girlfriend are being held hostage - I won't come save you. Can we go for dinner now? I'm pretty sure the guy that owns those fields has a gun." Rudy replied as he caught his breath.

"You're a fuck." Drew muttered as he held back a smile. He turned on his heel and made his way back to the truck.

"The scenic route. Huh, Starkey?" Rudy yelled out the window of his car before he backed up and drove away, back towards the main road.

Drew shook his head as he opened up the driver's side of his truck and climbed in once more. He gave his girlfriend an apologetic look as he sat back down, fastening his seat belt once more.

"I'm sorry about that." Drew stated softly as he grabbed his keys from the cup holder and stuck them in the ignition again.

"That's okay, Starkey. You can take for a drive after dinner, if you like." She smiled as she sat up on her knees, leaned over the console and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Alright. Promise I won't take you near a farmer's field, or where Rudy can find us." Drew smiled as he placed a hand on her thigh once she settled back in her seat, and pulled the truck around and drove back towards the main road.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Thank you for your support. Requests for OBX are open!!

@littlementalpolaroids I'm sorry I didn't tag you sooner - if you haven't already seen this!!

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Heat Up

Pairing :: Rick Flag x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Size Kink

Word Count :: 2,439

Summary :: Rick isn’t too happy Digger tries to tease you

A/N :: I was gonna make a fic about someone else, but then I saw The Suicide Squad trailor and goddamn Joel Kinnaman. I love that tall beautiful bastard. Also, I’m not super happy about the title, but it was all I could come up with, meh

As Amanda Waller’s assistant, you had to deal with a lot daily. It wasn’t just about making sure she got her black coffee right when she walked into the building and managing her scheduled meetings. You had to ensure everything, and one, was in order for her. If someone told you they were running late, you forced them to be on time. You carefully inspected each report and corrected them before turning them into Waller. You got her any top-secret document she needed and kept it hidden. Hell, you even helped her with Task Force X, going through the list of criminals and writing down a thorough analysis of each potential member’s abilities.

Despite working for a woman who was heartless and calculating, you were as timid as a mouse. You rarely spoke to others unless you needed to. After working for Waller for several years, you found it best not to make any personal relationships with the people you met. She warned you most didn’t last very long and very few could be trusted.

One person who had stuck around though and  Waller seemed to even trust Colonel Rick Flag. You two started working for her around the same time, and yet, you could barely hold a conversation with the man. 

When you first met him, you constantly felt overwhelmed whenever you were left alone with him. It didn’t help that he appeared rather intimidating, with a serious expression almost always on his face, and towered over you. He was 6’2’’, and even in your favorite pumps, which added a good three inches to your height, you were still, smaller than him in frame.

However, regardless of your inability to speak around him, he continuously tried to start conversations with you and be friendly towards you. His constant attempts helped you grow used to him, but your face always heated up and you grew ridged when he got too close when you were alone. You didn’t understand the feeling, nor did you didn’t hate the feeling. It confused you.

-

Rick was absolutely perplexed by your meek behavior, especially since he’d witness before how assertive you could get when it came to getting something done for your shared boss. 

So it was no wonder he worried about you whenever Waller brought you along to see the Task Force X members. They were psychotic criminals, and you were like a slab of meat to some of them. You almost always wore a skirt or dress with a pair of pumps or oxford flats. Rick would be lying if he said you didn’t look perfect every hour of the day. 

He used to wonder if you were actually as innocent as you acted outside of work. Then, he saw you run as fast as you possibly could when Harley tried to give you what she called ‘wholesome safe dating advice’.

Since then, Rick did his best to make sure you were at least arm’s length away from any psycho. He even went as far as stepping right in front of you when someone got too close. Somehow, standing either beside you or a bit in front of you had become a habit of his when he noticed you were uncomfortable. 

Like now.

-

Waller sent you and Rick to a hidden ARGUS base hidden in the woods. Rick was obviously there to lead the team. You were there to give them their mission and an extensive overview.

There was a row of chairs for each Task Force X member to sit in. You stood in front of them with a large screen behind you, displaying various diagrams and photos for the mission. Rick stood off to the side, just behind all the seated members.

You looked away from your presentation, the projector turning off and the lights on. “So, are there any questions?”

Harley’s hand shot up. “Did you want me to continue giving you dating advice now or would you prefer I write it all down and give it to you later?”

Your eyes squinted and your lips curved downward just a bit. “What- no. That has nothing to do with the missions and I don’t need your advice…” Your voice trailed off, at a loss on how to deal with Harley.

Rick took a step forward. “Harley, stop it,” He warned her.

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I think someone has a major crush on you (Y/N) and I wanna see if he makes a move.”

You were silent for a moment, processing what she had said before your eyes widened upon realization. Surprised, you couldn’t stop yourself from confirming what you had heard. “What did you say?”

“Nothing!” She sang, springing up from her seat.

“Hold on, now I’m interested too,” Floyd chimed in. “Now just who do you think it is that has a crush on lil ol’ (Y/N). I mean, no offense,” He glanced at you before turning his head back to Harley, “but she’s too skittery.”

Digger hopped up from his seat, shaking his head. “Nah mate, that adds on to her appeal.”

He started walking towards you and instinctively you started to back away until your back was against the wall. As he was getting closer, Digger’s hand started to extend, reaching out for you.

“See, it makes it fun to try and catch her.”

You shut your eyes, ready to scream the second he dared touching you. Instead of feeling what you thought would be cold dirty fingers, you heard Digger begin to plead.

“Woah! I was only joking around! Let me go!”

Eyes now wide, you saw Rick hoisting the Aussie up in the air by the collar of his shirt. If looks could kill, Digger’s head would be gone. 

“What are the rules?” He asked in a cold tone.

“No escaping and no disobeying,” Digger said quickly.

“Oh! Also no annoying or vexing you!” Harley added.

Rick still held Digger up. “And?”

Confused, Digger looked at Floyd for help who nodded his head towards you. “And-and no touching or teasing (Y/N)?”

Rick released Digger, throwing him towards the door. “Everyone out. We leave at zero one hundred hours.”

All of the criminals walked out of the room. Rick followed to make sure the door was closed once they were out, and locked the door.

You stepped away from the wall, straightening out your black pencil skirt. “Thank you for earlier Colonel Flag.”

“Rick. We’re alone,” He corrected you.

Around others at work, you addressed each other professionally: Colonel Flag and Ms. (L/N). Alone, Rick had started trying to get you used to calling him his name to be more comfortable around him.

“Right, thank you, Rick.”

You were about to clean up and reorganize your notes when you noticed Rick still seemed upset. He had the same annoyed expression he had when the criminals were around and his arms were crossed over his chest.

You cocked your head to the side. “Is something wrong?”

“What were you going to do?” He started walking forward.

“Pardon?”

“What were you going to do if he touched you?”

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking this?  “Most likely yell at him and push him away.”

“And then?”

“And then what?” Now, you were starting to get annoyed.

Rick stopped a foot away from you, eyes piercing down at you. “What if he didn’t stop?”

“He wouldn’t dare continue.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’ll keep me safe.”

Quickly, you realized what you said and turned your head to avoid his gaze. With a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart started to beat faster when he took one step closer to you.

Rick gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and index, turning your head to face him. You looked up at him with your large (E/C) eyes and that odd tingling feeling started up.

“What if I’m not there to keep you safe?”

“You always are.”

Like a flip was switched, Rick suddenly knew why he constantly wanted to make sure you were always alright. You worked for a harsh realist like Waller, but still naively believed good always prevailed. He wanted to make sure you never lost the blissful joy most did when they faced the harsh reality of the world.

His head lowered towards yours until his lips were pressed softly against yours. It was a simple kiss at first. Rick was unsure of how far he could go until you gently returned the kiss. Your hands went up to his chest and he lowered to your waist to pull you closer.

Wrapped in his arms, the odd tingling feeling turned into a warm little flame. You wanted to stay held like this forever. 

When he pulled away, you lightly gripped his shirt and tugged. “Rick, I want more.”

“Are you sure, because it might be sweet now, but if we keep going-”

Without letting him finish, you pressed another kiss against his lips. Again, you two sweetly kissed for a few minutes. Then, you felt one of his hands lower down to the round of your ass. A small gasp escaped you upon being lifted, your legs wrapped around him for support. Your skirt bunched up revealing your thighs as a result.

Rick pulled away from your lips, begging to trail down kisses to your neck.

You knew what you two were doing, more importantly, where, was inappropriate. Though with your mind clouded, you didn’t care. You only wanted to make sure you two wouldn’t be disrupted.

“The-the door,” Your murmured,

“Already taken care of,” He said, lips pressed against your neck.

Rick started walking slowly, carrying you over to the row of chairs. Before he took a seat, he put you back down on your feet.

Suddenly, the world spun and you were now seated on his lap, back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms hugged you close to him while he continued to kiss your neck.

Due to your skirt bunched up, you could feel his denim jeans below you. With heat growing in you, without thinking, you started to move your hips in his lap.

A small chuckle left him. One of his arms released its hold on you to start trailing up and down the side of your thigh. “Is this why you’re always so tense when we’re alone?” His hand moved to your inner thigh, coming closer to your core.

Your hands shot up to cover your blushing face. Was this why? You never quite understood why before, but it was starting to make sense now.

Rick’s other hand pulled your hands down. When he wrapped his arm around you again, he made sure to keep your arms down as well so you couldn’t hide your face.

“Come on now, don’t be shy. It’s just us.”

“Mmm!”

You bit your lip feeling him begin to rub your clit through your damp panties. You started to squirm a bit, a clear bulge forming and pressing up against you. He pushed the fabric to the side, inserting only one finger. You moaned softly, your legs spreading open and welcoming him. 

Rick pushed in his one finger as deep as he could before pulling it completely out and sticking it back in. This time, his finger curved in you and you felt your cunt tighten. When it did, he stuck a second finger in you. His fingers pumped at a consistent pace, and you kept your moans at a low volume. 

You could feel his hardened erection through his jeans pressing firmly against you now. With his fingers still pumping, you started moving your hips along to feel his covered length.

Rick let out a quiet curse, the tightness of his jeans too much. He let go of his hold on you to unbuckle his pants and release his cock.

“I tried to get you ready, but,” He pulled his fingers out completely, both hands now gripping your hips and lifting you up, “this might still hurt a bit.”

He started lowering you down on him and your eyes widened once he had gotten just the head of his dick in. The further he pushed in, the more pain you felt, your eyes growing glossy as a result. He lowered you until you were seated on him again and he was fully filling you up.

You could feel your pussy aching and tightening around him, never being filled up this much before.

“Christ you have a tight little cunt,” Rick gritted out.

Honestly, he surprised himself you managed to take all of him in, but he knew you were in pain. He wanted to give you time to adjust to his length, even if your clenching walls were driving him mad. Though, you could tell by his tight grip on your hips, staying still was driving him mad.

To distract yourself from the pain, you turned your head back to look up at him and pulled him down for another kiss. This time, his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the wet space.

During the kiss, you finally started bouncing up and down in his lap. He helped guide you, keeping you at a steady pace. 

With your tight pussy squeezing around him, Rick couldn’t keep the pace you had set. He started thrusting his pelvis up and moved you down on him faster. Eventually, you were no longer in any control while he fucked you. Then, he pulled you out completely and rammed back into you, slamming you down.

“Rick!” You screamed, a sensitive spot now hit.

He did it again and again, your screams growing louder each time he hit your sweet spot. 

Each of your breaths was growing heavier, and his fast pace was now ragged. He hit you once more and your head fell back against his chest, a loud moan leaving your lips. Your cunt clenching and finally releasing around him.

With just a few more thrusts, Rick’s hips bucked into you and he held you still for one moment so he could cum inside you. You felt his cock pulse with each hot spurt in you, causing a shiver. 

After, he moved you only a few more times slowly for you each to ride out your climaxes. Once done, he pulled you off of him and stood up.

Rick wrapped an arm around your shoulder, holding you close to him as you each steadied your breathing.

“So, I take it you’ll start acting normal now when we’re alone?” He asked you.

“I’ll probably heat up thinking about this.”

“I’m fine with that too.”