#muse. ┊ charlie young!

[sarahsmi13s]

what would you like to see next?

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okay my little cassettes, my muse is being torn in a few different directions. i know i have updates that i need to roll out for my series and requests i need to get out

i just kinda want gauge what y'all might want to see first!

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A || The Ones Who Didn't Make It Back Home (j and s) -- Sarah and Jake had a beautiful homecoming moment... or did they?

B || Lieutenant Rogers - Part 8 -- John just made the biggest mistake of his career as Captain America... How will Star react?

C || Y/N 'Star' Rogers (lieutenant rogers) -- a series moodboard

D || Something's Changed (tell them) -- During Grayson's recovery, those closest to him notice that something is different... something's changed.

E || Tim Bradford Request (title tbd) -- After having an argument in the field, Tim decides he needs to apologize, only to find out that you have call in sick.

F || For Her (charlie young request) -- Does Charlie stay working for Rick because he likes the work? Or is it because he has two girls at home that deserve the world?

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[cantfixyou]

shocking to know, maybe, that charlie has a wonderful relationship with her mother. she was always sort of her father's daughter, she takes more after him physically, and a lot of her interests come from her dad, but the emotions and mannerisms are all her mom. she was loved beautifully by her mother, wholly, through the puberty and hormones and the coming out. charlie grew into all of that softness, like a caridgan. loved her mother so so much in return, depended on her in all the ways needed, all of the ways one could want. all her empathy, all her warmth, the lopsided smiles, the sparkling eyes, the need to always find a way to help. how she jumps at the opportunity to protect, to care for, to feed, to love. it was there when she was growing up, but it's clear as day now, with her traveling and her shouldering this burden. she is meant to lead, but she is also meant to love, and that is inherited from the matriarch. ( and maybe this is why it hurts her mother as deeply as it does when charlie has to tearfully take leave of her childhood home. so much of her is in her daughter, and now her daughter is leaving with it, and she's not saying where she's going or why she's going or for how long. she just looks sick and sleepless and haunted, already, even at just twenty-one. they share so much, even heartbreak, now. )

[warriorsparked]

Soldiers: don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you, enslave you, who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think or what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. 

Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men.

[fadedstarsfms]

🍴

🍴- Favorite meal

Maia: She's a seafood girlie, I feel like she loves a good shrimp linguini or lobster ravioli Daniel: A simple man, he loves burgers Ripley: Honestly she loves a good sushi dish, mostly rainbow rolls Bianca: Bianca is a breakfast for dinner lover. One of her go tos is french toast Nakia: Anything Carly makes Enchiladas Charlie: Anything italian, mostly baked mostaccioli though

[arzodae]

i just got home from hayden christensen's panel and maybe i need to add star wars muses,,,,

[fanfictionalraven]

Sleep Without You

Title: Sleep Without You

Song Inspiration: Sleep Without You by Brett Young

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Eileen, Mary, Jody, Donna, Charlie

Word Count: 2,082

Warnings: Reader gets drunk, fluff

Author’s Note: This story is not canon compliant because I prefer my characters alive and happy.

“Do not make us come in there and take her, Dean,” Jody says through your bedroom door. You throw your head back and laugh from where you’re standing over the bathroom sink. Dean rolls his eyes from where he’d been watching you get ready. He walks over to the door and pulls it open with a dramatic huff.

“I’m not holding her hostage,” he tells the small group of women he finds waiting. Jody looks past him and you stick your head out of the bathroom.

“I’m almost ready. Sorry,” you apologize. Donna looks between the two of you suspiciously.

“There was definitely some hanky-panky going on here,” she says. Dean rolls his eyes again and walks back over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge. You laugh but blush despite yourself. She wasn’t wrong. The second Dean had seen you in the little red dress, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“Honestly, I’ll meet you at the car in five minutes,” you tell them. Eileen laughs and nudges the two other women down the hall, sending a wink back at you before she disappears herself. You quickly slip into a strappy pair of matching red heels and can feel Dean’s eyes still on you. “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything!!” He says, defensively.

“No, but you’re thinking about it,” you laugh. Standing to your full height, you hold your arms out and turn in a slow circle. “Alright. How do I look?”

“Too damn good,” he compliments. You smile as you step over to him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “Don’t get to see you all dolled up like this too often. Without it being for a case at least.”

“I know. This is actually so…normal,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “A bachelorette party.”

“Can’t believe they’re actually getting married,” Dean muses.

“Little Sammy’s all grown up,” you tease, giving his shoulders a squeeze.

“Mmmm,” he hums. “Least this time he got my blessing.” You laugh and shake your head. “You should go before the search party comes back.” Leaning down, you give him a quick kiss.

“Don’t wait up,” you tell him. He laughs lightly and gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t party too hard,” he says. You can’t help but laugh again.

“The party consists of the bride-to-be, myself, your mother, two officers of the law who might as well be your mother and your aunt, and a lesbian. I make no promises,” you say as you run a hand through his hair. He gives you a smile and shakes his head.

“Sammy and I will work on the bail money,” he jokes.

“Much appreciated,” you laugh and take a step back for him to stand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you tenderly. The two of you stand there for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Y/N!” Mary calls your name as she comes down the hallway.

“Whoops! They sent the big guns this time,” you say, stepping away from Dean. He laughs as he follows you to the door and leans against the frame, crossing his arms.

“Be careful. Have fun,” he says as Mary takes you by the elbow. You wink back at Dean and give him a wave as you stumble along behind his mother.

***

“Don’t wait up.”

Those had been your instructions to Dean. He had tried to follow them. He knew you all would be out late so he made a valiant effort to turn in for the night around 12:30. The scent of your shampoo on the pillow next to him was too much to bear.

At 12:35, he made his way back to the library and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Sitting back in one of the chairs, he pulls his phone out and smiles at the picture of you grinning back at him.

At 12:40, Sam wanders back into the library. He pauses when he sees his older brother. Dean looks up at him and chuckles.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He asks. Sam shakes his head as he walks over and sits across from Dean who pours a second glass. “What was it for you?” Sam swirls the glass slowly and cuts his eyes up at his brother.

“She usually plays with my hair while I go to sleep,” he admits, a bit embarrassed. Dean smiles and shakes his head, taking a drink. “You?”

“Pillow smelled too damn much like her,” he says, as though it were completely obvious. Now it’s Sam’s turn to shake his head.

“What happened to us?” He laughs. Dean shrugs, glancing back at his phone screen. “I mean…I’m getting married in a couple weeks. What?”

“Nah. I always saw that for you,” Dean says, looking at his younger brother. Sam gives him a skeptical look. Dean shrugs in response. “Hoped for it at least. You deserve it.”

“Just not with Becky?” Sam asks, trying not to smile.

“Eileen is a much better choice. Hands down,” Dean laughs. Sam laughs as well.

The two brothers sit in silence for a little while, each taking sips from their respective glasses. Sam watches his brother pour himself another glass before finally speaking again.

“You deserve it too, ya know,” Sam says simply. Dean looks at him curiously. “Your relationship with Y/N. Being happy and…and loved.”

“I haven’t done a thing to deserve Y/N loving me the way she does,” he says. Sam frowns but Dean gives him a smile. “And yet she keeps on doing it anyways.”

“I understand that,” Sam agrees, raising his glass slightly. Another silent moment passes as Sam gathers the courage to ask his next question. “Have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Marriage,” Sam says, making some elaborate, grand gesture with his hands. Dean laughs at Sam’s awkwardness and looks into his glass again.

“I was about ready to ask Mom for her ring but, ugh…someone beat me to it,” he says, smiling at Sam now. Sam’s eyes widen quickly.

“Oh!! Dean, I’m sorry,” he rattles off quickly. Dean laughs and holds a hand up.

“It’s fine. You got to it first, fair and square,” he says, standing and walking across the library. He stops at a lockbox sitting on one of the shelves and quickly puts in a combination. Sam watches his brother, curiously, as Dean removes something from the box. “Had to hustle a hell of a lot of pool but…” He walks back to his seat and holds up a simple but beautiful diamond ring. Sam stares it for a moment before looking at his brother, wide eyed.

“How long have you had that?” He asks. Dean shrugs, examining the ring between his fingers.

“Bought it about two weeks after you asked Eileen,” Dean recounts. “I’d been thinking about it for a while. Almost asked Mom, like I said. I just wasn’t sure if Y/N would go for it. What we have now is one thing. Marriage is whole other one. Then when you asked Eileen…I could see it in her eyes.”

“That was months ago. Why haven’t you asked her yet?” Sam questions.

“Didn’t wanna feel like I was just copying you or trying to steal anyone’s thunder,” Dean explains, going back to the box. “I’ll give it a little time. Let you and Eileen have your moment. Then I’ll ask.”

“Neither of us would care. We’d be thrilled for you both,” Sam tells him. Dean smiles and shrugs, putting the ring away again. He closes the box and relocks it.

“I’ve waited this long. A few more weeks won’t hurt,” Dean says. Sam smiles a little and nods as Dean comes back to his seat. Dean stretches and looks at his phone again. “Now, the real question…is when are you two gonna make me an uncle?” Sam sputters on his drink, quickly setting the glass down. Dean roars with laughter as the door to the war room opens up.

“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play…and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate…but I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake…shake it off, shake it off…” You, Eileen, and Charlie all come in singing together, arms around each other. You all three stumble through a few very uncoordinated hip shimmies.

“Dear God. They are wasted,” Dean laughs. Mary runs around in front of your small choir and heads you off at the stairs.

“A little help?” She calls down to her sons. The two brothers get up quickly and make their way up the stairs. Sam wraps an arm around Eileen’s waist and starts to help her down the stairs as she giggles. Mary assists Charlie who grips the handrail as the room starts to spin on her. You cross your arms as Dean comes over to you.

“I told you not to wait up,” you scold him. He laughs and shakes his head, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I tried, promise. Turns out I just can’t sleep without my girl,” he says, pulling you closer quickly. You let out a squeal as you stumble and fall into him. Before you have a second to process what’s happening, Dean scoops you up into his arms and starts to carry you down the stairs.

“I could have walked,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck. He rolls his eyes at your protest.

“You wouldn’t have made it two steps,” he teases. “I’ll put you down if you want.”

“No!!” You exclaim, tightening your arms slightly. He laughs and nods.

“That’s what I thought.”

“These three,” Mary says, pointing between all three of you. “Are not allowed to go out drinking again.”

“Herding cats?” Sam asks. Mary scoffs a laugh.

“Cats would have been easier,” she says. Dean looks down at you and smirks.

“Did you not behave for Mom?” He asks. Your shoulders bob up and down as you smile at him coyly.

“Why? You gonna punish me?” You ask with a wink.

“Oh my God,” Mary mutters, quickly leading a still dizzy Charlie towards the hall. Dean laughs wildly as he goes to follow.

“You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” he says. He glances back at Sam and finds Eileen gently running her fingers through his hair. “Sleep tight, little brother.” Sam looks up at him and smiles.

“You too.”

Dean carries you down to your bedroom and tosses you on to the bed, eliciting another squeal from you. You kick off your heels as he goes through the dresser, finding one of his old t-shirts you’d claimed ages ago. He helps you change out of your dress and into the shirt with ease. You fall back onto the bed with a huff and close your eyes.

“Hold on,” Dean says, going into the bathroom. He comes back out a second later with a makeup wipe and sits next to you on the bed. You giggle as he gently and carefully wipes your makeup away. “What’s so funny?”

“Big, bad, monster-killing, Dean Winchester is taking my makeup off for me,” you tease. He rolls his eyes.

“You’d be pissed in the morning if you woke up with all this still on,” he says. He takes extra care around your eyes before finally finishing. “There.” He tosses the wipe into a nearby trash can.

Dean lays down on the bed next to you and you immediately roll over to face him, moving into his side. He lays an arm across your waist, pulling you even closer. Kissing your hair, he breathes in your scent and sighs. You giggle again.

“What now?” He asks.

“You love me,” you say. Dean laughs softly and nods, pushing your hair from your face.

“Yea, I do,” he agrees. You break into a wide grin as you close your eyes. “In fact, I’m gonna marry you, Y/N.” You giggle again and nod.

“I get to be the bachelorette next time,” you say. He laughs again and kisses your forehead.

“Mom’s gonna be thrilled.”

The next morning, Dean has aspirin and water ready by the bed for you when you wake up. You remember nothing from the majority of the night before, especially anything from when you all returned to the bunker. But when you catch the bouquet at Sam and Eileen’s wedding and see the look on Dean’s face, a fragment of a conversation comes back to you.

I’m gonna marry you, Y/N.

***

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester

[book--brackets]

Note: Good Omens is by both Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, it just doesn't fit in the character limit lol

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (2011)

The circus arrives without warning. No announcement precedes it, no paper notices plastered on lampposts and billboards. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.

Within these nocturnal black-and-white-striped tents awaits an utterly unquie experience, a feast did the senses, where no one can be lost in a maze of clouds, meander through a lush garden muse of ice, stare in wonderment as the tattooed contortionist folds herself into a small glass box, and become deliciously tipsy from the scents of caramel and cinnamon that waft through the air.

Welcome to Le Cirque des Rêvez.

Beyond the smoke and mirrors, however, a fierce competition is under way—a contest between two young illusionists, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood to compete in a “game” to which they have been irrevocably bound by their mercurial masters. Unbeknownst to the players, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battles of imagination and will.

As the circus travels around the world, the feats of magic gain fantastical new heights with every stop. The game is well under way and the lives of all those involved—the eccentric circus owner, the elusive contortionist, the mystical fortune-teller, and a pair of red-haired twins born backstage among them—are swept up in a wake of spells and charms.

But when Celia discovers Marco is her adversary, they begin to think of the game not as a competition but as a wonderful collaboration. With no knowledge of how the game must end, they innocently tumble headfirst into love. A deep, passionate, and magical love that makes the light flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands.

Their masters still pull the strings, however, and this unforeseen occurrence forces them to intervene with dangerous consequences, leaving the lives of everyone from the performers to the patrons hanging in the balance.

The Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss (2007-present)

My name is Kvothe.   I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep.   You may have heard of me.

So begins a tale unequaled in fantasy literature--the story of a hero told in his own voice. It is a tale of sorrow, a tale of survival, a tale of one man's search for meaning in his universe, and how that search, and the indomitable will that drove it, gave birth to a legend.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo (2015-2016)

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can’t pull it off alone. . . .

A convict with a thirst for revenge A sharpshooter who can’t walk away from a wager A runaway with a privileged past A spy known as the Wraith A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes

Kaz’s crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction—if they don’t kill each other first.

American Gods by Neil Gaiman (2001)

Days before his release from prison, Shadow's wife, Laura, dies in a mysterious car crash. Numbly, he makes his way back home. On the plane, he encounters the enigmatic Mr Wednesday, who claims to be a refugee from a distant war, a former god and the king of America.

Together they embark on a profoundly strange journey across the heart of the USA, whilst all around them a storm of preternatural and epic proportions threatens to break.

Scary, gripping and deeply unsettling, American Gods takes a long, hard look into the soul of America. You'll be surprised by what - and who - it finds there...

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer (2012-2015)

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . 

Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future. 

The Princess Bride by William Goldman (1973)

Westley ... handsome farm boy who risks death and much, much worse for the woman he loves; Inigo ... the Spanish swordsman who lives only to avenge his father's death; Fezzik ... the Turk, the gentlest giant ever to have uprooted a tree with his bare hands; Vizzini ... the evil Sicilian, with a mind so keen he's foiled by his own perfect logic; Prince Humperdinck ... the eviler ruler of Guilder, who has an equally insatiable thirst for war and the beauteous Buttercup; Count Rugen ... the evilest man of all, who thrives on the excruciating pain of others; Miracle Max ... the King's ex-Miracle Man, who can raise the dead (kind of); The Dread Pirate Roberts ... supreme looter and plunderer of the high seas; and, of course, Buttercup ... the princess bride, the most perfect, beautiful woman in the history of the world.

S. Morgenstern's timeless tale--discovered and wonderfully abridged by William Goldman--pits country against country, good against evil, love against hate. From the Cliffs of Insanity through the Fire Swamp and down into the Zoo of Death, this incredible journey and brilliant tale is peppered with strange beasties both monstrous and gentle, and memorable surprises both terrible and sublime.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl (1964)

Willy Wonka's famous chocolate factory is opening at last!

But only five lucky children will be allowed inside. And the winners are: Augustus Gloop, an enormously fat boy whose hobby is eating; Veruca Salt, a spoiled-rotten brat whose parents are wrapped around her little finger; Violet Beauregarde, a dim-witted gum-chewer with the fastest jaws around; Mike Teavee, a toy pistol-toting gangster-in-training who is obsessed with television; and Charlie Bucket, Our Hero, a boy who is honest and kind, brave and true, and good and ready for the wildest time of his life! 

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare (2010-2013)

Magic is dangerous--but love is more dangerous still. 

When sixteen-year-old Tessa Gray crosses the ocean to find her brother, her destination is England, the time is the reign of Queen Victoria, and something terrifying is waiting for her in London's Downworld, where vampires, warlocks and other supernatural folk stalk the gaslit streets. Only the Shadowhunters, warriors dedicated to ridding the world of demons, keep order amidst the chaos. 

Kidnapped by the mysterious Dark Sisters, members of a secret organization called The Pandemonium Club, Tessa soon learns that she herself is a Downworlder with a rare ability: the power to transform, at will, into another person. What's more, the Magister, the shadowy figure who runs the Club, will stop at nothing to claim Tessa's power for his own. 

Friendless and hunted, Tessa takes refuge with the Shadowhunters of the London Institute, who swear to find her brother if she will use her power to help them. She soon finds herself fascinated by--and torn between--two best friends: James, whose fragile beauty hides a deadly secret, and blue-eyed Will, whose caustic wit and volatile moods keep everyone in his life at arm's length . . . everyone, that is, but Tessa. As their search draws them deep into the heart of an arcane plot that threatens to destroy the Shadowhunters, Tessa realizes that she may need to choose between saving her brother and helping her new friends save the world. . . . and that love may be the most dangerous magic of all.

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (1990)

The world is preparing to come to an end according to the Divine Plan recorded in the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (recorded 1655). Meanwhile, a fussy angel and a fast-living demon have grown fond of living among the earth's mortals for many millennia and are not looking forward to the apocalypse. If Crowley and Aziraphale are going to stop it from happening, they must find and kill the Antichrist.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman (2002)

In Coraline's family's new flat there's a locked door. On the other side is a brick wall—until Coraline unlocks the door . . . and finds a passage to another flat in another house just like her own. Only different.

The food is better there. Books have pictures that writhe and crawl and shimmer. And there's another mother and father there who want Coraline to be their little girl. They want to change her and keep her with them. . . . Forever.

[abubblingcandle]

I love all your stuff from TIP but I just stumbled across your 16 year old Jamie and I'm just 🥺 Beard stepping up to be the one to actually ask Jamie what he wants and mentor him is so special and spot-on and ahhhh! I can't wait to read more if there's more!

Hey Charlie! Good to see you here too and I'm so glad that you've been enjoying my stuff. 

16 year old Jamie is one of my fic ideas that I am most excited about but also one that I am quite apprehensive about as I want to do the concept justice! @altschmerzes has an amazing teen Jamie that inspires me daily in Wiggle Up On Dry Land and I want to do my version justice. So I have various story beats and I know how I want it to end but I've just got to get there and get all of these ideas tied up into a cohesive outline before I can get started properly. 

I've mentioned before but the big theme of this fic is Jamie trying to take control of his own life. Young athletes their lives are so controlled and so structured and then you add the fact that Jamie is living with his dad throughout all of this is makes it worse. So! a big thing I am trying to work out is how I can drop hint of this and the toll it is taking on Jamie without it just being "look here's this child that is crumbling". Because Ted is going to want to just fix it but is also going to be quite blind to Jamie's struggles because Jamie is absolutely going to activate all of his dad panic. So in summary! I need to come up with the overarching threads before I can proper start writing :) 

BUT here's a little snippet for you to tide you over until then:

"I'm worried about Jamie," Beard stated, slamming through the peaceful silence Ted was relishing like someone asleep at the wheel of a bulldozer.  "Expound?" Ted frowned, leaning back on his chair. The wood creaked under the strain of the bend and the sound was a calming rhythm as he moved.  "The lad's tired," Beard tucked the receipt back into his book and rested it on his chest when his posture turned to mirror Ted's.  "This is his first premier league season and I will admit we have become quite reliant on his certain flair for the dramatic," Ted mused. "But he's a spring chicken and he's still springing around." “Not just physically, spiritually,” Beard continued, his lips settling into a grim line as he stared at Ted. “Well you know me. I don’t feel like a man upstairs would be that interested in the day to day life of me as much as I would love to be on cable tv but people can wish what they wish,” Ted shrugged. “He checks out when you’re talking. It’s like he’s not entirely there,” Beard added. Ted sighed and rolled his shoulders. Jamie did often seem disinterested whenever Ted opened his mouth but Ted did have that effect on people sometimes. It was bad, and Ted knew it was bad coaching, but some times a disinterested Jamie was better than an interested Jamie. Because, like all other teenagers Ted had interacted with, when he was listening and engaged ... he was really mean.

[mychemicalraymance]

Loved ur longlegs review!! i bet this was soooo cool texturally on 35mm esp with how they did the flashback scenes.. anyway what did you notice it said about music culture and female fans? I didnt pick up on any of that but i think its so interesting.

Hi!! Thanks for inviting me to talk about it lol. (Cw for sexual assault discussion, SPOILERS for the movie)

I don't know if it's SAYING much outside of thematically connecting to things LIKE the 70s, the Manson murders and the idea of "groupies". But the thematic connections come from references and little visual clues. Obviously this movie has a story that starts in the 70s, and the 70s had a hippie/free love subculture that was connected deeply to rock and music subcultures (Woodstock etc).

The movie opens up with a T.Rex quote - a band I admittedly don't have a lot of knowledge about, but after some perusing on Wikipedia seems to have band members who are the epitome of late 60s early 70s rock stars - i.e., tumultuous and uneven relationships with women, egotistical, culturally powerful, etc. 60s and 70s free love / rock music subcultures have a notably misogynist bent to their gender dynamics, with groupies and young female fans being consumed and churned out rapidly. Also of note is that a lot of times the girlfriends /muses of rock stars are "there" in the background of moments of great import to music and pop culture, but are never remembered (i.e., how Lee's mother was the one "there" facilitating the crimes, also not unlike how a lot of young women are procured for male predators at the hands of women, historically AND now, think harvey weinstein).

Longlegs is meticulously picking out his child female victims and sending his female helper in disguise to claim them. Visually, her mother LOOKS like an ex hippie (long middle part grey hair, crochet clothing, has a VW bug, etc). Longlegs LOOKS like a deranged washed up rock star (including the bizarre botched plastic surgery and uncanny makeup, a thing I would say isn't unheard of for egotistical 70s rock stars. I can't name one right now but that's what I pulled from it). The performances recalls Charlie Manson's in-prison interviews, the tape of Longlegs in the cell is framed like some of the famous Manson interviews, the weird sing-songy shit he does sounds like glam rock to me, lol. Manson had young female desciples do his bidding, as well as being involved in LSD / hippie subcultures (Helter Skelter written on the wall, but also it's debated whether or not Manson's connection to the culture was an act of disguise rather than genuine involvement, but I digress). Longlegs' basement hideout has 70s rock star images pinned up, as well as a very haunting backstage/green room vanity.

Imagine the fallout of discovering your mother was there backstage with idk Jim Morrison and would help bring groupies back to him (don't know if this happened like that, but you get the idea), or worse yet, was a Manson girl.

This is a genuine connection, but all this subtext could just be me reading into it.

[avionvadion]

El and Lucifer's outfits for the next chapter! Which I've only just started typing, lol.

Vaggie is closer in height to El than Charlie (though still taller) so Vaggie lent her some clothes since she doesn't really... have anything other than her one outfit and pajama set yet. The cons of being randomly summoned into Hell. Oof.

At this point I think Lucifer would remove his ring, since he's trying to move on from the divorce with Lilith.

Story Snippet below (May be different in the actual posted chapter since I'm still writing it, lol)

Before he could run off or teleport back to his room, Eleanora jolted and called out to him, whirling around, extending a hand out as if to stop him. “W-Wait!” 

Lucifer paused. He looked at her curiously. “What is it, Ellie?” 

She faltered, but having no choice but to answer worried her bottom lip and asked, “C-Can… Can you wear something… not as… um… flashy today?”

“Interesting request.” He mused, fixing his posture and straightening his back, crossing one arm over his chest and bringing his other hand up to his chin. “Go on.” 

“I-I just…” Eleanora looked anxious, the young woman starting to fiddle with her fingers as she glanced at him, down at the floor, and then back at him again. All the while, Lucifer waited patiently, curious to see where she was going with this. “Th-The white clothes and the hat with the apple and the snake kinda scream… “Lucifer Morningstar”… y’know? A-And-And I’d… really rather not get… everyone’s attention while we… shop.” 

An air of silence hovered over them, thick and heavy. 

Lucifer eyed Eleanora closely while she tried to not make her nervousness and anxiety obvious. It was taking all of her willpower not to shuffle her feet. Despite standing tall and attempting to meet his gaze, she almost looked like she’d burst into tears if he refused. 

Not that he believed she actually would- only very specific things have set her off so far, and the biggest most important thing was mentioning her homeland. He didn’t necessarily want to see her cry either. He rather disliked it. 

Her ask was a fairly simple thing to fulfill, too. A reasonable one, really. 

Lucifer gave her a shrug and a lazy smile. “Sure, why not? I’ll do it for you, Ellie.” 

She relaxed so hard, he would have believed it if her soul nearly escaped her body. “R-Really!?”

“Yeah, ‘course!” His grin broadened, sharp teeth bared, and the short king rested his hands on his hips. “I don’t mind wearing something else for a change. Besides~ it’s my first real outing in a while! A man’s gotta look good for his date!” 

“That’s fair.” Eleanora laughed, only to pause, brain catching up to the last bit he said. “Wait, what?” 

“See you in five!” He winked, flashing her a smirk and pointing finger guns at her, only to vanish in a burst of red mist. 

The human gaped at where he left, only to indignantly screech, a flustered red-faced mess, praying he could hear her from where he was now upstairs, “It’s not a date!”  

[hiemaldesirae]

Tis Arrax,:3 and Fallen Angel Vox with Human Alastor (then eventually Radio demon Alastor) Anyone?

A Vox who is the baby brother to Lucifer, who looks up to him, who follows Lucifer anywhere. Who joins in on his rebellion, and--because he's so young, both Lucifer and Lilith curl around him and protect him during the Fall. Saving most of his wings from damage. They're still a little scorched, but he can still fly like Lucifer and the dark blue is visible. Vox, since he was Lucifer's younger brother keeps his human shape unlike the Sins. He becomes a Prince of Hell, but usually spends his time on earth, enticing humans.

That's how he meets Alastor--or should I say, that's how Alastor attempts to kill him. He immediately thinks this murderous human is hilarious-he takes the knife out of his chest, wings unfolding out of his back and draws Alastor close, a purr in his throat.

"Oh, Darling aren't you just delicious?" He murmurs, gently cradling Alastor's chin. Wing cocooning them Intimately. "Very possessive aren't you? I'm your muse, and no one else could have me hmm? That's why you had to kill me, precious?" Vox croons, demonic form fully showing, tail wrapping possessively around Alastor's thigh. "A gift, for when you enter my brother's kingdom--power, form your muse." He murmurs, mouth crashing down onto Alastor's tongue demanding entrance, the taste of his own blood thick as he entered his human's mouth. (A gift without taking Alastor's soul :3)

Laughing, he broke away as Alastor greedily swallowed his blood, and he flapped his wings, vanishing into the night.

Alastor of course never forgets his muse. Never forgets how powerful his muse WAS that night, or how safe Vox made him feel, wrapped in his wings (not that he'd ever tell anyone) and when he drops into hell...well, he is astonishingly powerful and becomes an overlord overnight, power no one's seen before at his fingertips.

Of course, he doesn't see is precious muse again until Charlie Morningstar opens her hotel (which he goes to help only for the chance to see more of the royal family.)

And who should be helping dear sweet Charlie on behalf of her father because he's in trouble for killing some important human too early? Why, her beloved uncle and Prince of Hell, Vox.

Alastor is thrilled. His muse, his beloved, his soon to be mate is here! Yes they're stuck doing this dumb redemption thing but they're together! Maybe Vox will let him curl up in his wings....and get a taste of his blood again. (But mostly he wants to feel safe, just wants to feel those wings around him again...)

WOOOO (very excited clapping) YES i love fallen angel aus... ive always wanted to do a fallen angel vox au but this one is the only one thats spoken to me so far LMFAO

the idea of alastor joining up the hazbin hotels efforts to rehabilitate sinners SOLELY because he wanted another chance to see the pretty (fallen) angel he tried to kill all those years ago in life is so fucking funny to me. like yeah okay go off boyfailure try and get your cognitohazard wife

also i do want to ask questions for this. obviously because i have nothing in my head ever and i hardly understand asks when i first read them through LMFAO. but uh, as a prince of hell would vox be considered like one of the sins??? in which case would we have... 8 sins? if so... i wanted to mention vainglory/vanity, which is a historical sin no longer used in reference when it comes to the cardinal sins. i think given the fact that it's now encompassed into pride as a sin works for vox, who followed lucifers guide and would thus want to follow even in his brothers footsteps when it came to his ascension (decension?) as a sin. and of course, the way that he behaves with alastor is... well. vain as fuck but you know what my wife deserves it

also. sighs and hangs my head. even though i have like 19 wips to do would you let me try and write this one too,..... (making puppy eyes at you)

[starcrossedxwriter]

Bleeding Through Part 1 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Trigger Warnings: Angst, asshole Michael, some mentions for triggers for the OC but nothing graphic - just vague mentions (that will be important plot points in later fics!)

A/N: well… this is way longer than I intended or anticipated lol but here it is… Also if you love these two… don't be mad at me!! lol

“That looks delicious, Charlie. He’ll love it,” Michael’s mom commented as she watched Charlotte put the final touches on her husband’s favorite sweet treat, a chocolate cake. 

Her eyes did not leave her cake as she checked the icing meticulously for spots that did not look exactly. She knew her attention to details slightly obsessive. After all, Michael could care less about the look of desserts as long as the taste was just right. And if there was one thing Charlotte could do, it was bake. But still, she desired only perfection for her husband’s first day home from shooting. Her entire spirit beamed at the compliment from her mother-in-law, one of the few people in the world whose opinion mattered to her.

“You think so??” 

At Donna’s affirmative nod, the young woman let out a small squeal of excitement before laughing at her own antics. 

She moaned, “Ugh… Sorry… I know I’m acting like a complete nut. I just can’t wait for him to be home. This time felt way harder for some reason.”

“I know. It felt longer than three months.”

Charlotte shrugged. “He wasn’t able to call home as much, maybe? Usually we FaceTime every night when he gets home from set but I could barely get him on the phone once a week. And I’ll get to see him at some point but I haven’t seen him since Oscars weekend,” she mused before shrugging. “But I totally get it. Lupita mentioned that the filming and training schedules were just relentless so he probably just didn’t have much time.” 

Michael’s schedule for Marvel’s Black Panther had been crazier than most of his projects so Charlotte truly did understand. Most of the film was shot in Atlanta but the cast had flown to several other locations across the world while training to capture different scenes. And she knew that Michael’s character forced him to stay in hair and make-up longer, which meant earlier and later days on set than many of his counterparts. 

With all of that in mind and as an actress herself, she gave Michael as much grace and understanding throughout the process. He missed a call, no worries. Forgot to call her back, all good. However, that meant they had seen precious little of each other since he left in February. Three months later, she desperately missed everything about him. 

“That boy doesn’t know how to slow down either.” 

The pair shared a laugh. “Definitely doesn’t.” She checked her watch and phone, her face falling into a frown. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She shook her head, forcing her mouth back into a grin and her concern back to the depths of her mind. “N-Nothing, nothing. Just… well he usually texts me when he lands and is on his way but he should’ve landed like an hour ago? Hell, he should be walking through the door any minute.” 

“I’m sure he’s fine… you know he’s forgetful.” 

Michael could be forgetful, it was true. But generally not with things like this. He knew how much Charlotte worried so he never forgot to text her when he landed somewhere. It was usually the first thing he did even when they spent the whole flight texting back and forth. Which was also unusual. She had not received one text from him his entire flight. She shook her head as if she could shake the thoughts out of it. 

He’s fine… he’s fine, she thought to herself. She knew she was just trying to convince herself. To keep her concerns at bay as she worked to clean up their kitchen, she made a mental note to call him in ten minutes if she did not hear from him. However, that ten-minute mental alarm never needed to go off. 

“Speak of the devil,” she whispered to herself as she heard a key turn in the door. She wiped off her hands off and raced to the foyer of their home just as Michael crossed over the threshold. 

Damn he looks good, she thought to herself as she took in his Killmonger look. She loved him in any iteration. But she could not deny this one was… sexy as fuck. Her eyes almost did not know what to focus on and she was shocked at how, even with only three months on set, his body had changed so much from when he left. His muscles were massive before but now they threatened to break the limits of his hoodie, his beard had grown longer and a bit unruly, giving him a rugged look that made Charlotte go weak in the knees. And she could not deny that the dreads were growing on her. They were neatly braided back to keep them out of his face.  

“Hey handsome,” she offered with a bright smile. She immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her movements almost faltered as she felt his body tense up at her touch, however, he seemed to catch himself and force his body to relax. However, the hug and chaste kiss he placed on her lips were still brief. 

“Hey babe,” he offered before quickly breaking free and moving to bestow equally-brief hugs to his parents. 

Charlotte felt the balloon in her heart deflate slightly at his less-than-warm welcome. Perhaps she had simply built his return up in her mind but typically when he returned home, even from a weekend, he could not keep his hands off of her. And she would be lying if she claimed she did not enjoy it. And so, in this moment, it felt odd not to receive it, his immediate love and affections. 

However, she knew she would not solve any of these conundrums standing in their foyer so she fixed her face back into a smile and followed her husband deeper into the house. 

“How was the flight, babe?” 

“Fine.” 

“You hungry? I may or may not have a freshly made chocolate cake in the fridge for you. A lil welcome home surprise.” She hoped the promise of his favorite sweet treat would bring out some of the excitement to be home that she felt he was missing. 

“Nah I’m good. Just gonna go shower.” His eyes barely left his phone as he moved through their house, his answers short and clipped as to not invite additional conversation. 

And before Charlotte could even blink or think of a response, he disappeared before her eyes to their master suite upstairs. Charlotte glanced around, unsure of what to do with herself. This was certainly not how she expected his return home to go. She anxiously fiddled with her wedding band as her brain went down a million different rabbit holes at once. She questioned whether he was upset with her. But she had barely spoken to him in the last few weeks, hell the last few months if she were honest about it, so what could she have said or done? She glanced down at her clothes, which did have a light dusting of flour across them due to her mad furry of baking earlier in the day. Perhaps he expected her to look cuter or more put together for his return and he was disappointed? 

Whatever the reason, she knew something was off. This man who looked and spoke like her husband was not fully him. She stood at the foot of their staircase for a few moments as she tried to strategize what she should do next. Should she go and talk to him and gauge what was wrong? Or should she give him space? She was not used to not knowing what to do where Michael was concerned. Usually, they moved in perfect step and in sync. This was far from that. 

She did not noticed Michael’s mom studying her until she spoke up. 

“I’m sure he’s just tired, Charlie.” 

Her words knocked her out of her trance. 

“Y-yea, yea. Just tired,” her words trailed off as she nodded to herself. She repeated the words underneath her breath a few times as if to convince herself her mother-in-law was correct. 

Not everything is a reaction to you, Charlie, Charlotte reminded herself, a refrain her therapist had given her many years ago that she often had to repeat once she stepped her toe back into the dating pond. It was not that Charlotte was self-centered, she preferred when things were not about her. But she had to learn and unlearn a lot where relationships were concerned by the time her rugged path led her to Michael. One of those things being that not every negative emotion or reaction from her partner meant she had done something wrong or would lead to harm. It had been a tough one to unlearn but she was all the better and stronger for it. 

While Michael tended to be in good spirits most of the time, she knew he was not immune to a bad day like every human being and those bad days were not an indictment against her. He just came off shooting a character that was so unlike him, a grueling training and filming schedule, and a long flight. He earned some alone time and some space to decompress if he wanted, she decided quickly. 

“I’m gonna unpack his stuff. I was going to take him out to dinner but I think we’ll just order in so he can get some rest… cool with you two?” 

His mom shook her head. “We actually are going over to Jamila’s house for dinner. Figured you two would want the house to yourselves for a bit.” 

Charlotte’s heart warmed at their thoughtfulness. Before she and Bakari got married, she had always questioned whether living with her in-laws would be awkward or uncomfortable. However, they were both so attuned to giving she and Bakari their space as a married couple and never overstepped. Now, Charlotte would fight tooth and nail to keep them around.

“Love you SO much… Thanks!” She squeezed Donna’s hand before treading the same path up their stairs to their master. She made a mental note to stay positive and to focus on getting him whatever he needed so that once he got some rest, they would get back on track later that evening. 

However, that proved to be wishful thinking. Charlotte felt like she was a ghost in her own home, barely corporeal and visible to his eye. And when he did speak, part of her wished he hadn’t. There was a sharp edge to his words now, even his clipped responses carried annoyance like he wished he did not have to talk to her. 

By the time she was ready to retreat to bed, Charlotte was almost excited for the forced silence of sleep. She was slightly disheartened though as her thoughts drifted to the lace lingerie hanging in her closet that she bought particularly for this moment that would go unused. It was black with gold detailing to match his former character’s Golden Jaguar suit, a detail she had gotten from a spy or two on set. She had strongly considered still putting it on and entice him. However, he did not seem to want any physical affection and she had felt enough rejection from him for the day. 

Maybe tomorrow night, she reasoned as they both slid into bed. 

When he turned off the light on his side, she offered him an ‘I love you,” and a kiss on the cheek. However, neither were reciprocated nor did he ease back into their usual sleeping position with half of his body draped on top of her. No, instead he slept on the edge of their shared bed with his back to her. 

As his light snores filled her ears, Charlotte barely slept as she prayed her husband’s off day was merely a one-time issue and he would be back to his usual jovial self tomorrow. Somehow, despite the warm body next to her, their bed felt cold as ever. And she was no stranger to coldness in a relationship, that dreadful feeling of loneliness when someone was there with you. In fact, in her experience, coldness and indifference were a step up from her ex’s usual behavior. But she was not accustom to such coldness from Bakari. Warmth was she knew with him, all he had ever been. Even on the rare occasions when he was angry, he never acted as if she was a burden or as if he did not wish to be around her. And that was all she felt today: that coldness and the sharp edge of rejection. How else was she supposed to feel when, after three months apart, the love of her life acted as if he did not want to see her? But as she laid there, she still held on tight to her optimism. She vowed not to read too much into it or let it get to her too much. 

She sighed before turning over to face the wall away from him and close her eyes. 

Tomorrow, he’ll be back to normal, she thought to herself. He has to be. 

***

Charlotte shifted in bed, her hand reaching out to find the warmth that was her husband only to be me with the uncomfortable cold of an empty bed. 

“This nigga,” she whispered, rolling her eyes. She knew exactly where her husband was, where he had been almost every night and day since he returned home from Atlanta four weeks prior. 

She swung her legs out of bed and grabbed her robe, tying it tightly around her waist as she made her way through the darkness to her husband’s ‘man cave,’ which housed all his gadgets and toys. She scratched her head, her reddish-brown curls wild and untamed around her as she had accidentally pushed her scarf off in her restless sleep. She was not surprised to find him playing Call of Duty, the loud gunshots and bangs from the game mixing with the sound from an episode from some anime she did not recognize on the other screen. 

“Babe… Babe. Bakari!” She called his name several times, the annoyance in her tone increasing each time she had to repeat herself.

“What?” 

Charlotte was slightly taken back by his tone and that his eyes did not leave his stupid video game to even acknowledge her presence. However, it did not deter her as she crossed the room to stand behind him. Her hands went to his rub his shoulders, only stilling when she felt him flinch beneath her touch and shrug her hands off of him. She supposed she should be used to the bite of rejection from him these days, but it still stung. Her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection as if to fight the instinct to touch him again. 

“I-I just wanted to see if you were coming to bed soon. It’s like 3 am.”She knew her words sounded needy but she did not care. She missed her husband.

He immediately shook his head, wholly uninterested in retreating to the warmth of his shared bed with his wife. “Nah, not for a while.” 

Charlotte’s whole body seemed to sag in disappointment, her shoulders hunching over as sadness spread throughout her. She knew she had been foolish for being so hopeful… hopeful that he would return to bed and hopeful that he would return to the man who left here in February.

It seemed as though, since he wrapped filming Black Panther, he had little time or interest in being with her or his family. He holed up in his cave in the basement for 90% of the day, only exiting when he had no choice. And even then, it was clear to everyone that he was suffering through their company. His behavior was odd for everyone in their household and their family. Michael was typically the conversationalist but everyone was struggling to pull two words out of him lately and those two words felt like an Olympic feat. She could count on two hands the amount of true conversations they had had since he returned home. And it was not just his isolation from her and his family, which she could, at least, make excuses for. She had also never seen him so short and quick to anger. Usually, he was the calm one, the one who could jump in and diffuse a situation. But now, rage seemed to live just beneath the surface and it only took one out-of-place word for it to spring forward. 

It only took her a few days to recognize what was truly happening. It was the character bleeding through, the toxicity that was Erik Stevens tainting the waters of Michael B. Jordan. And the more she recalled the small tidbits of information she knew about the character he played, the more his behavior now and while he was shooting made sense. However, that did not make it any less anxiety-inducing and frustrating for her. Especially when it was not 24/7. There were certainly moments were she thought her husband was finally back fully. He was actually initiated conversation with her and laughed and joked around. However, those were always shorted lived as Erik seemed to rear his ugly head every time eventually, causing him to ignore her or retreat to his corner of the house. And she hated it, hated this Jekyll and Hyde rollercoaster she felt forced into enduring day in and day out. This ‘Erik-Michael’ hybrid was not the man she married and pledged her life to. But he seemed to have no desire to go back to who he was. 

“Damn… You could’ve just stayed in Atlanta if you were gonna stay holed up in here all day and night,” she mumbled to herself, her own frustration getting the better of her. 

“The fuck you just say?” He threw down his controller and stood up, the loud clanging to the ground causing Charlotte to jump slightly. However, his outburst did not deter her. 

“I said, ‘you could’ve just stayed in Atlanta if you were gonna act like you don’t have a wife and family here.’ I mean what the fuck is wrong with you, Bakari? Like I know it can be hard to shake a character, trust me, I’ve been there. But this is getting fucking ridiculous.” 

He rolled his eyes and took another gulp from his glass of scotch. “Always comin’ in here with some bullshit.” 

“See - that right there. Since when do you speak to me like that?? I don’t know what’s going on with you babe but this ain’t ok.” 

He shook his head. “I’m good. Don’t worry about it.” 

She scoffed, “I’m not an idiot, Michael. This,” she gestured to him, “This isn’t you! You don’t let me touch you,” she started listing all of the grievances that had built up over the last month. “You only let me close to you when you want to have sex. You’re fucking mean a-and aggressive to everyone. You barely speak to me and when you do, you act like you can’t fucking stand it. I’m worried about you! Because this isn’t healthy. And I’m worried about our marriage when you’re treating me like you don’t fucking care about me at all. I need you to tell me what is going on???” 

By the time she stopped talking, she was shouting, her chest heaving lightly with her frustration.

“MAYBE I DON’T CARE!” He yelled at her, his anger at her perceived attack boiling over to uncontrollable levels. Part of him knew she was right. However, hearing his behavior repeated back to him only increased his shame at the fact that he could not shake whatever this was. And that only increased his rage at himself, which he felt like could only be directed at one person: his wife. The words flowed from his mouth like vomit. He did not even know what he was saying until it was too late. “Maybe I don’t give a fuck about you or anyone else! This is the real fucking me. I got every right to be fucking angry if I want to be and I don’t give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks about it!”

The retort bubbling to the surface immediately died in her throat as his words hit her. She did not try to hide the tears that immediately sprang to her eyes as she stared at him. The back of her hand hastily wiped the falling tears away. She had never expected words so callous to come out of his mouth of all people. She could not fully even formulate thoughts, let alone a sentence, as his refrain just repeated in her brain over and over. 

Michael immediately regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, especially since they were farthest from the truth. For the first time in a long time, he felt the spirit of Killmonger subside, even just for a moment. And he could finally see the damage he had left behind in his wake.

“Babe-“ he immediately raced up to her and touched her arm, immediately stopping when she flinched at his touch and stepped back away from him. 

“Don’t…” her voice cracked as a small sob escaped her lips. “D-don’t touch me.”  

She turned on her heels and raced out of the room, her eyes blurred in the darkness as she made her way, not to the bed she shared with Michael, but to a guest room on the other side of the house. She locked the door immediately and crumpled down to the floor, her body hunched over from the strength of her sobs. 

The sound of her quiet crying as she left the room stayed with Michael, playing a torturous loop in his mind long after he was alone. He had never been so angry or disappointed in himself. He threw the glass in his hand across the room and knocked everything on the coffee table across from his couch to the floor. The shattering sounds did nothing to appease him. 

He did not know what the fuck was wrong with him. Killmonger was dead but it seemed as if he was determined to not let Michael go. Every time he tried to lay the character to rest, Killmonger resisted, feeding on his insecurities, his pain, his anger, and every other negative emotion Michael usually had a handle on. Everything that he usually was able to diminish, Killmonger forced to the surface and amplified to new extremes. Nights like tonight there was only Killmonger and his ‘I have no one and nothing but my revenge’ attitude that Michael just could not shake. 

But Michael had someone… several someones who loved and cared about him. He did not know why he had routinely pushed them all away over the last few weeks. And now he had done significant harm to the one person he loved more than any other person on Earth. 

And he had no idea how to fix it… or if it was even fixable at all. 

***

Charlotte hummed quietly along with her music as she packed her suitcase, her song only interrupted by her quietly talking to herself as she went over her checklist. 

 “Where you goin’” 

Charlotte glanced up from her suitcase to find her husband standing in the doorway staring at her. The cold front in the Jordan household had been reduced to Arctic levels since their blowout argument two days prior. Michael had considered apologizing but his shame only pushed him farther into isolation. He could barely look at Charlotte and every time he tried to say something, a voice in his head overpowered his good sense and stopped him. And Charlotte, in turn, refused to speak to him.  

So the couple existed in near silence ever since. Unless his parents prompted conversation or the pair had to discuss something important, they simply acted as if the other was not there. Charlotte had even moved out of their bedroom, sleeping in a guest room down the hall to avoid him. 

“I’m going to New York.” She continued packing and gathering her things so she could close her bag. She did not even look at him to see the confused expression on his face. 

“I thought we were supposed to be going in a few weeks before the Tonys.” 

Charlotte nodded. Charlotte had work to attend to in the city and since they both loved NYC so much, they had planned to just go together in about two weeks and stay there until the Tony Awards. Michael had some time off before he had to start training again for Creed II so it would have been the perfect mini vacation for the pair. NYC was at the top of their shortlist of cities they did not visit without the other. And she was knowingly breaking that pact. However, it was, currently, the only city in the country she actually had something to do in and could stay busy while running away from her current problems. 

“Yea but I just think I should go now. Gonna help workshop this new musical and get some other shit done. Car’ll be here in like 30 minutes.”

His eyes grew wide at how soon she was leaving. “You weren’t gon’ say shit?” 

Still emotionally bruised from their argument two days prior, she could not stop her initial thought from escaping her lips. “Why would I? You don’t care, remember?” 

Her eyes clenched shut as she heard the words settle in the space, immediately wishing she could stuff them back down her throat. When she opened her eyes she could see his whole body was tense, his face crestfallen. It was not her intention to make him feel bad. She knew her husband and knew he did not mean those words. But there was a petty part of her who wanted him to hear how deep his words cut. 

However, it seemed to have the opposite effect. She could feel his energy shift, his defenses immediately rising as he felt attacked by her words. 

“So what? You’re leavin’ me cause of some shit you know I didn’t fuckin’ mean?”

Charlotte rubbed her forehead. She was not interested in fighting with him. 

“Nobody’s leaving you. I just… think we both need space. That seems to be what you wanted anyway? Time alone and away from me? Now you’ll have it. And maybe you can use the time to figure your shit out.” 

“Figure what out?” 

“What it is about this fucking character that you can’t shake? And why you can’t let him go? Because you can tell me you’re fine until you’re blue in the face but it isn’t true. And we both know it.” 

Michael knew she was not wrong but slowly his Killmonger facade was slipping. Michael was the one holding the reigns now and Michael needed his wife… here with him.  

“I don’t need space. You���re my fucking wife, Charlotte. I need you here.” 

Charlotte let out a humorless laugh. “See I know I’m your wife, Bakari. But it isn’t clear to me right now that you know that or that you even know you have family and friends who love you. Cause you aren’t acting like it.” She paused before walking over to stand in front of him. Her hand went to his cheek and wiped away a tear that she did not even think he knew was falling. 

“Look, I understand what you are going through… truly I do. I know what it is like to be you and in your skin and in your life but.. you have this other personality gnawing at your soul. It is hard a-and it takes work sometimes to let it go. B-but just because the actress in me understands this and empathizes with it doesn’t mean the wife in me can accept it. I don’t like who you are right now a-and I can’t accept how you’re treating me. I-I have no intention of leaving you, I promise. But I just can’t be here with you like this.” 

Hearing that his wife did not want to be around him hurt worse than any physical wound ever could. He immediately wondered if his mood swings and behavior was triggering to her, something he had been far too in his own head to even consider. 

“I’m so sorry for the other night. I didn’t mean it and you know I'd nev-” 

“I know. Truly, I do,” she assured him. “You aren’t him, you're the farthest person from him I've ever met. A-and I know you didn’t mean what you said. B-but for the last few weeks, babe, I’ve been walking around on eggshells with you. Every day, afraid I’m about to set off a ticking time bomb. And even if all that bomb does is hurl words at me, it,” she choked back sob that caused her voice to crack. “It f-fucking hurts, babe. It hurts to feel lonely with you here. It hurts to not be able to love you or receive that love back. It hurts to feel constantly rejected. And… most of all, it hurts to see you in pain like this. I’m just exhausted, Michael.” Her words sounded as weary as she felt, fresh out of energy and options. If anything, she hoped this time apart would replenish her and him.

A buzzing from her watch pulled her attention from him. Her car was here. 

She pulled her suitcase off of the bench at the end of their bed and grabbed her purse. She knew they both needed this but she did not expect it to hurt either of them as much as it did. The broken look on his face made her want to unpack her bag and stay exactly where she was. But she knew she couldn’t. 

She dragged her feet toward their door, stopping to envelope him in a hug, the first hug in weeks that he actually returned with earnest. She kissed him on the cheek before pulling away, knowing if she lingered in his touch too long, she would not be able to leave. 

“When will you be back?” He asked as she walked toward the door. Part of him was afraid to hear her answer.

She glanced back at him and shrugged. “Don't look so solemn, Bakari. Our marriage isn’t over. I’m with you to the end of the line. But that’s entirely up to you… let me know when my husband is back and Killmonger is dead and buried, and I’ll be on the first red eye back to you. And whatever you need to get him back, you tell me and I'll support you. I love you.” 

She offered him one last smile before she met her driver in the hallway and handed him her stuff, leaving Michael alone in their bedroom.

“I love you too.” 

Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld

A/N: So… what do you think??? Charlotte has left for NYC, though she promises to come back. How can our favs come back from this? Do you think she should've let at all or stayed to work it out? What do you think Michael needs to do to get his shit together? Let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading!

[sailtomarina]

To she who will not be deterred

Playlist, AO3 | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

When Hermione finally received her long-awaited promotion at work, she returned to her desk to find a large bouquet composed of a surprising collection of foliage. It wasn’t strictly a flower bouquet aside from the brilliant purple clematis. The majority of the bundle featured plants more accustomed to a field: cattails and wheat. The combination was odd, to say the least. So, too, was the included note to which was pinned a single stem of laurel.

To she who will not be deterred: all the best that life can offer. Congratulations. You deserve it.

There was no signature, nor any other hint regarding the sender’s identity other than the neat script. She looked back up at her gift and felt her already buoyed spirits rise even higher. 

When she stormed into her new, and much larger, office a month later, it was with all the fury of a woman impeded time and time again by her lifelong nemesis.

“Arghhhhhhh!!!!” She let loose the scream the second her door shut and the silencing ward fell into place. 

Draco Lucius Malfoy was going to be the death of her.

There wasn’t a single one of her bids that weren’t halted and eviscerated by the wizard. What was he even doing in her department anyway? It wasn’t like he truly cared about the welfare of other beings and creatures. Oh, he could give a pretty speech about progress, but underneath it all he was the same self-servicing git he’d been when they were students.

So what if he’d filled out and turned into a jaw-dropping specimen of a man? None of that mattered when it was what came out of his mouth that infuriated her beyond all self control.

She felt the ripple in her wards just before her door fully opened. She must have missed the knock in her tantrum.

“Ms Granger?” came the tentative voice of her assistant. Wide brown eyes looked up at her, rightfully terrified of how she might react to the interruption.

“What is it, Rebecca?” With a large sigh, Hermione settled into her chair, folding both of her hands to settle them atop her desk. It wouldn’t do to let out her anger on  the wrong target.

“A package arrived for you just now, if you’re available to accept it?” Still hesitant, Rebecca continued to remain outside of the room, only her head encroaching inside.

“Go on, then. Now is as good a time as any.”

Hermione had been expecting a parcel from Romania for several days now. It was about time Charlie got off his saddle and put together the information she’d requested weeks ago. However, what floated through the doorway turned out not to be the assumed dragon portfolio, but another vase of flowers.

“There wasn’t a name included, but we’ve cleared it of any curses–”

Whatever else her assistant had to say faded away as Hermione accepted her gift and sifted through the stems, smelling each blossom in turn. Buttercups and cowslips nestled within Baby’s Breath, the profusion of gold and white instantly brightening the heaviness that had settled deep within her chest.

“--and it’s refreshing to see someone still appreciates flower language. I haven’t seen anyone do so since I was a little girl and–”

Hermione’s ear caught the curious phrase despite her daydreaming. “What was that? Flower language?” 

Rebecca stepped into the room, her earlier trepidation forgotten in the face of her superior’s lighter mood. “Yes! Each flower brings its own meaning that can transform depending on the bouquet. We’re taught their significance at an early age to use for courting and other more subtle forms of communication.”

“I don’t recall ever learning about it at Hogwarts,” Hermione mused, a wrinkle beginning to form in her brow.

Her assistant immediately looked chagrined. “Oh! I mean to say that it’s something young witches and wizards of means learn at home…” Red blotches bloomed across Rebecca’s cheeks as she heard herself. “That isn’t to say you’re not a witch, nor a witch of means! I simply meant–”

Hermione stopped her with one raised palm. She could feel a headache beginning to build at her temples. “I know what you meant, Rebecca. There’s no harm in stating the truth. I did not grow up in the Magical world, and my Muggle parents did not teach me the language of flowers.”

The young woman visibly relaxed, even if she still appeared distressed at her misstep. Hermione had looked into the witch’s history before accepting her as an assistant, of course, and so knew she came from an old family, one that could trace its magical lineage back several generations. It shouldn’t have surprised Hermione that there was still so much that she didn’t know about magic and its many traditions.

“I take it that you know what these particular choices mean?” she asked, tossing the young woman an opening.

Rebecca clapped her hands in her excitement as she eyed the bouquet. “Yes! Buttercup means your admirer thinks you radiant and full of charm, while the Baby’s Breath indicates they either find you innocent and pure, or is hopeful for beginning something new. The cowslip, though, cinches it.”

“Cinches what, exactly?”

“That your admirer is exactly that: affectionate for you! This entire bouquet is a first step in love!” The witch nearly squealed as she jumped in place, all professionalism forgotten in the face of romance.

“Love,” Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes, “as if that could be even remotely true.”

She didn’t have time for love, much less to entertain the so-called affections of some stranger. This entire debacle had to be a prank. She refused to believe otherwise.

Written for the @hp-flowers week 1 prompt: cattail, wheat, & laurel; buttercup, cowslips, & baby's breath

The clematis was an accidental inclusion from a later week that I included here so Hermione wasn't just receiving a bundle of grass! The cattail is for peace/prosperity, wheat for her promotion at work, and laurel for success in a new venture.

942 wc

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

[gruesomejack]

"You're taking a long time to kill him." Rolling his shoulders, the hound kicked his feet up on the mattress and laid back against the large collection of pillows. Two-toned almond eyes flicked around the eccentric bedroom set-up before landing back on Charlie, his thick brows lifting in interest. The young man in question was in the adjacent room; Sabrina could hear the shower water running, meaning that he and the other dog would have a few moments alone here. "Do you need me to do it, Naberius? Too afraid to bite the hand that feeds?"

Shifting over, he hung his front half off the side of the bed and peeked underneath it. There was a collection of different shoes, more books, and a pair of green eyes staring back at him. The calico cat gave a tiny hiss that he ignored to grab one of the books. He wasn't much of a reader, but that didn't mean he couldn't be nosy. The front cover was adorned with a scantily clad masculine body; Sabrina let out an amused exhale through his nose and started to flip through it. "He keeps his erotica under the bed. Is he ashamed?" He mused, "With the way you smell, I'd have to say I'm surprised..." Sitting up and looking at Charlie again, he tilted his chin. "Is that why he's still alive? I never took you for a stud dog, Charlie."

Sabrina glanced away, his brows furrowed over his eyes. "You're shirking your work. Do you know how much I've had to pick up since you've gone?" He asked, "And now that I'm here, that means the younger hounds are protecting the gate. They're barely house trained. -- You have to come home."

@purposefully-lost

[101flavoursofweird]

I have Vergier family feels again…

Inspector Vergier started working on the ‘Mystere Incident’ (or at least, he started writing about it in his file) three years prior to the game’s present time. The ‘incident’ has something to do with a string thefts of artworks and antiques, all baring the same mark. 

Constable Loic mentions that Vergier has been working on this case since Emma died, implying that Emma’s death had something to do with the ‘Mystere Incident’. This is never confirmed and as we don’t have a sequel, it probably never will be confirmed, but it’s cool to speculate. 

Who do we know who stole a load of artworks with the mark and disappeared three years ago—? Oh, hi, ISAAC!

The timing here just seems too coincidental. The fact that Charlie’s mother could have died around the same time Raphael’s dad left… hurts my heart. 

What if Emma’s death was what drove Isaac away? Maybe Isaac could handle moonlighting as an art thief while he was still living with Raphael, but being involved in someone’s death was too much for him. Either Isaac wanted to escape or he became even more embroiled with the Chevaliers because “There’s blood on your hands now, Isaac, old chap! You might as well rise through the ranks of the Chevaliers!” (My flawless Jean-François impression!)

Wouldn’t it be so bitterly ironic if Inspector Vergier lost Emma because he started looking into the Mystere Incident, but then after her death, he just dedicated his entire life to the case— pushing away the one family member he had left?

During Chapter 8, when the Chevaliers start terrorising Paris, Vergier muses about how those involved in the Mystere incident have been up to something. By ‘those involved’, he must mean Graf… who Vergier later realizes is Jean-François (not the teenage rhythm thief Vergier has been chasing with the Paris Roller Skate Brigade)…

If Emma did die three or so years before the game, this might beg the question of why Vergier carries around a family photo from years ago, when Charlie was a baby. It’s not impossible that Emma died while Charlie was very young, but then again, maybe Vergier just keeps the photo with him for sentimental reasons… and so he would always have the message Emma left him: 

‘I will keep our family safe while you keep our city safe. I know you will not let us down, my brave, noble constable.’

Vergier promised Emma he would protect Paris, while she promised to protect their family. But then, Emma died because he was trying to protect Paris… but how can Vergier continue to protect Paris if he needs to protect what remains of their family? How can he keep his promise to Emma and keep Charlie safe, while he’s grieving? This isn’t helped at all by the fact that Charlie’s pink school dress and cardigan looks so much like what Emma wears in their family photo…

As it turns out, Charlie can protect Vegier, while Vergier protects Charlie, and they can work together to protect Paris. 

Charlie didn’t understand why their father was so obsessed with saving Paris until they saw Emma’s message on the photo. In Charlie’s words, they didn’t know that was how their mother felt about their father. Upon returning the photo to Vergier, Charlie remarks, “You owe her, non?”, echoing how Charlie feels like they owe Phantom R for him saving Charlie. 

It’s not actually about owing anyone— Charlie just uses this as an excuse to keep helping Phantom R…

It’s about helping the people you care about and trusting that they will help you in return.

Both Vergier and Charlie seem to have realised this by the end of the game. They team up with Phantom R to storm the Hanging Gardens and take down the Chevaliers. In the game’s final scene, Vergier yells at Charlie that it’s the Constabulary’s job to catch the Rhythm Thief, but he’s actually smiling, so you know this is all just a game to them and Phantom R now…

During the Vergiers’ bonus episode, Family Ties, Vergier and Charlie team up to defeat some leftover Chevaliers in Les Invalides. (Chasing the harmless Rhythm Thief is fine, but not the chevaliers!)

In the opening narration to the episode, Charlie mentions that their father still refuses to discuss everything that happened with them… and later, Vergier tells Charlie that the case on the Mystere Incident is officially closed. (‘Officially…?’) Vergier tells Charlie to stop interfering… but, realising that Charlie will never listen, he just asks Charlie to stay within his sights.

Vergier then walks out, leaving Charlie alone at Les Invalides…

Inspector Vergier got some good character development… but he’s still not the best parent :’D (Still, leagues better than Isaac and Jean-François!)

[swayhere]

canon starter call - open to anyone !

i have a strong urge to write some canon muses, so if you would be interested in writing against any of the canon muses listed under the READ MORE below, please comment/IM me and i can send a starter your way or reply to one of your starters.

i do not require you to know anything about my muse's canon, but i'm more than happy to tell you about it if you ask. i'd be happy to write canon muses against your ocs! also, mixing fandoms is 100% ok with me unless your canon muse is problematic and makes me uncomfy. my canon muses do not have all their memories or relationships from their life unless we plot it, but they will have the same general personality/ambitions.

if you are willing to write against my canon muses but don't care which, just like this post, and i'll take a look at your open starters and/or send you a closed starter at random with a muse i think fits the vibe.

*please don't agree to write against my canon muses if you're one of those picky weirdos that will be up in arms if i don't write a cannon muse exactly how you would.

( if you'd prefer to write against an oc muse only, check this post. )

canon muses i'd like to write: bold = extra big muse rn. strikethrough = exclusive, so not rn.

muses from tv shows: 

911 — eddie diaz , evan buckley , athena grant , bobby nash , karen wilson

911: lonestar — carlos reyes , grace ryder , judson ryder , t.k. strand , owen strand

as the world turns — dr. reid oliver , luke snyder

boy meets world — shawn hunter , jack hunter , angela moore , topanga lawrence

chuck — sarah walker , chuck bartowski , bryce larkin 

degrassi — jimmy brooks , sean cameron , ellie nash , marco del rossi , sav bhandari , drew torres , zoe rivas , miles hollingsworth iii , tiny bell , esme song , 

gilmore girls — jess , luke

good trouble — gael martinez , jamie hunter , callie adams foster , mariana adams foster , evan speck , joaquin perez , dennis cooper 

how i met your father — sid , ian , sophie , jesse

how i met your mother — marshall eriksen , lily aldrin , victoria

how to get away with murder — laurel castillo , connor walsh , oliver hampton , michaela pratt , frank delfino 

jessica jones — jessica jones

lost — kate austen , juliet burke , daniel faraday , desmond hume , sayid jarrah , sun-hwa kwon , claire littleton , walter ‘walt’ lloyd , charlie pace , hugo ‘hurley’ reyes , shannon rutherford , miles straume 

new amsterdam — lauren bloom , elizabeth wilder , casey acosta

new girl — nick miller , winston bishop , cece parekh

one tree hill — nathan scott , lucas scott , keith scott , chase adams , brooke davis 

outer banks (obx) — jj maybank , kiara carrera

please like me — arnold 

rosewell, new mexico — michael guerin , maria deluca , isobel evans

scandal — olivia pope , prezzy fitz

scooby doo — daphne blake

stranger things — robin buckley , steve harrington , jim hopper , chrissy cunningham , eddie munson , max mayfield , eleven , mike wheeler 

superstore — jonah simms

the 100 — finn collins

the bear — richie jerimovich, carmy berzatto , marcus , sydney adamu  

the mindy project — danny castellano 

the office — ryan howard , jim halpert , pam halpert , kelly kapoor , holly flax

the politician — river barkley , astrid sloan 

the young & the restless — sally spectra , adam newman , chelsea lawson , phyllis summers , lily winters , sharon newman , chance chancellor , victoria newman , tessa porter , amanda sinclair , cole howard

younger — josh , kelsey peters

muses from books: 

along for the ride ( book version only ) — eli stock , auden west , maggie  

one of us is lying ( book version only ) — cooper clay , nate

red white & royal blue — alex claremont-diaz , prince henry , zahra bankston

we were liars — gatwick ‘gat’ matthew patil

muses from movies: 

dead poets society — neil perry , charlie dalton , todd anderson

harry potter — lee jordan

les mis — enjolras , grantaire 

super 8 — joe lamb , martin , preston

twilight — irina denali , jasper cullen