#playing with Jimmy’s glasses and telling him he’s cute

[zappedbyzabka]

[mvchmp]

Clark with a Street Racer Reader please 🙏🏼 I adore dork x delinquent trope

Clark Kent x Street Racer reader

| gender of reader isn't mentioned, 2 mentions of Y/n

- ending is kinda rushed bc ididnt know how to end it im sorry if reader wasnt delinquent enough 🙏

USE YOUR SEATBELTS PEOPLE

I had just finished dropping off my friend at her house after a long day of catching up. I had brought her to watch one of my races before ending the day. 

It was now around 8pm and since there were only a few cars on the road, I decided to drive around for a bit. 

Nights like these were happening often thanks to the safety that Superman assured. The alleys looked much safer now, and walking around in sidewalks seemed more peaceful than scary. 

Driving past the Daily Planet building wasn't all that unusual to me than it was when I had just moved to Metropolis. It's on a route I usually use to go to the races I secretly attend so I had pretty much gotten used to seeing it.

Tonight was one of those times I went that route. Though I'm already used to seeing it, I found it a habit to look over and at least glance at the building. 

Yet, this time, instead of the numerous workers checking out of the premises, one man stood there. Clark Kent. The big guy with the cute glasses. 

We had met a few times, occasionally in the elevator where he'd sometimes press the buttons too hard. Or in the hallways when he's bringing groceries inside their apartment. We'd throw some greetings like "Hello" and "Hey" in those small encounters, asking what's up sometimes.

Him and his friend Jimmy who lived with him had mentioned they were interning at the Daily Planet recently - which explained why we had been meeting more often in the morning. Though, normally Jimmy would be beside Clark. Every time they went to work, and every time they got back.

Tonight, he was alone, exiting the building. As a friend, though I don't think friends find each other that attractive, I slowed down my speed and halted in front of the guy.

"Hey, Clark! Where's Jimmy?" I ask as I roll down my window, revealing my face.  "Oh, he got sick so he had to go home early. Probably something he ate." He said, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling a bit. 

"That sounds horrible. I hope he gets better soon, I'm not used to seeing you alone, you know?" I chuckle softly before continuing, "Were you about to head home? I am so maybe I can give you a ride?" I offered, keeping a hand on the steering wheel.

Surely enough, I was a bit nervous because of the thought that I'd have to drive home alone feeling rejected by my handsome, cute but hunky neighbor. But thankfully, he did not.

"Oh, sure! Thanks a lot, Y/n." He said with the same smile on his face which I absolutely adored. "Well, get in." I said, unlocking the doors for him.

I watched as he walked around the car to open the door of the passenger seat beside me and settle there. I tapped the steering wheel gently to the beat of the song that was playing on the radio while waiting for him to finish buckling his seatbelt.

"You should wear a seatbelt too, you know?" I heard his voice start beside me. "Well, there's no cops around this time of night. No one would catch me." I tell him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yeah, but for safety reasons. That's what seat belts were made for, right?" He said cautiously, as if trying to warn me. Though his obvious concern was adorable like him, I was stubborn enough to think that I was and will be completely fine without a seat belt considering the fact that I've raced a hundred or more times.

"Meh, I'll be fine. You hang on tight, though." I smiled at him, readjusting my posture. He mumbled a yeah, grinning softly and pushing his glasses back onto his nose properly.

I start driving through the streets, humming to the song that plays on the speakers. Looking at the side mirrors every now and then. There was a somewhat awkward air between us and knowing myself, if it got awkward enough I'd start bouncing my leg up and down which would result to obviously a car accident.

Now, I'm not risking it so I tried to bring up some small talk. "So.. How's working at the Daily Planet? I bet you and Jimmy are already cooking up those stories" I blurted.

"Ah, no, not really. Actually, me and another intern there worked on a piece about Superman but sadly, the 'professional' writers got credit for it." He heaved out a sigh and shook his head, looking out the window.

"I'm sorry that happened. You guys worked so hard for it just for other people to get credited for your efforts? That's ridiculous if you're gonna ask me." I said, supporting what he must feel right now. I heard him mumble a small 'yeah' and couldn'ilt make out the other words he said.

Reaching a pretty quiet and calm road, I decided to give into my temptations a little bit and speed up for a bit of thrill. For me, it wasn't all that bad given that I had driven a lot faster than this but, Clark on the other hand, seemed the opposite. 

I laughed slightly at him saying, "Chill down, Clark. I got you, no need to be so scared." noticing he had clutched onto the seat belt and somewhere else on the car which I didn't pay much mind to. 

"Why are you going so fast?! That's dangerous! This is dangerous!" He exclaimed, receiving another laugh from me before I slowed down again, resting him from an almost heart attack. 

I chuckled a bit more before responding, "I find it fun, driving as if I'm in a Fast & Furious movie." 

"Yeah, but it's not so fun when you're not safe." He snapped back at me. I smiled at him "Okay, I'm sorry, Clark. I'll be careful." I told him. Oh, this man was beautiful. He seems like such a dork and I just love that about him. I wonder how he'd react if he found out I race cars practically as a job.

A few minutes of small talk, we finally arrived at our apartment building. I parked my car in the parking lot underground which was designated for us residents. "Here we are." I announced to him. "Yeah, thanks for the ride. I just saved myself more time rather than waiting and looking for a cab. Really, thank you so much." He said

"Anytime, I mean, it's the least I can do to help my neighbor." I smiled sweetly at him before opening the door of my car and getting out.

As he stepped out too and closed my door, I locked it with the keys. I looked at him and to my surprise, he was already looking at me. I noticed a tint of pink shade on his face as our eyes locked.

"Let's go" I said, smiling a bit at him. 

Exiting the elevator and walking through the hallway, we finally arrived at the doors of our apartments. I faced him and bid my goodbyes, "Goodnight, Clark. Send my wishes to Jimmy." I told him and turned around to push my keys into the doorknob.

I heard him call me right before I opened the door. "Yes?" I asked him. "Thank you again for the ride. I didn't mean to bother you and- stuff. If ever you're up to it, and only if you are, would you like to grab some food sometime? Just to pay back for what you did for me today." He again rubbed his nape, avoiding my gaze and the same pink on his face.

I found it cute and why would I turn down a possible date with my hot-and-adorable-at-the-same-time neighbor? "Not that you're obliged to pay me back, and believe me it wasn't a favor you have to pay back for, but I would love to grab some food with you, sometime." I said, feeling my own cheeks heat up.

"Great, that's great. Um, yes, goodnight Y/n. Have a wonderful night!" He said, entering his own apartment. 

[tubbytarchia]

UM. NEW JIM STREAM. NEW SMP. I FEEL LIKE I MISSED AN ANNOUNCEMENT OR SOMETHING.

members are fwhip jimmy lizzie mog sausage oli rendog katherine pix shubble scott eloise zombiecleo. modded smp. stream only i think. fantasy themed.

he logs in and has to choose an origin. seems very dnd-esque? but ive never played dnd so. im guessing here.

he spends 10 minutes choosing just to settle on half elf. he gets to pick 2 skills so he picks quicker regen and most movements wont trigger sculk sensors.

he spawns in :D cleo is there :D but jim hasnt set up voice mod so. they dont talk yet. cleo just starts circling him and its really funny to me

HE GETS SET UP. cleos immediately like youre not small :( (her chat told her he would be) and he was like. well being small is fun for a stream and then it gets a bit annoying doesnt it. which i have Thoughts about

they spawned in like a tower thing. cleo goes down and dies instantly to a bunch of mobs. after cleo dies jimmy goes down and also dies instantly. theres some weird spawn protection thing going on meaning they literally cant beat the mobs

jimmy experiences Modded Minecraft and gets scared. why do his buttons do things. why is there things everywhere. his keybinds have been super messed up so hes having A Time

sausage died and cuz of voice mod he screamed and cut out immediately which is my favourite thing. the entire smp is a mess theres like a million mobs. ive never seen jimmy rage this hard at dying before

fwhip joins and he chose one of the small classes. jimmy starts making fun of him so fwhip crits him like 3 times. jimmy then steals fwhips wood and fwhip tries to kill him again.

it takes establishing that jimmys a half-elf and sausage is a high-elf before the elf superiority starts.

katherine joins and shes ALSO a half elf. sausage starts calling him their daddy. its been 20 minutes

jim and oli meet up (and katherine follows) and olis like. im gonna show you my secret if u give me 6 things. so jimmy gives him 6 things and turns out oli can. go invisible????? and jim and katherine are like :o and are surprised he didnt pick bard. olis like well i already did that. im a mushroom guy now. and takes off his armour to show his skin (he says something about it being similar to his larp outfit which is cool) and jimmys like whats with the glasses. and oli full on whines and goes JIMMMMMMMH :( theyre my mushroom glasses.

they both die within a minute of exploring. cant say its unexpected. they get their stuff back easily enough though

after talking to like everyone jim splits off. he finds a zombie playing bagpipes and i lost my shit

it just played folk music the entire time he was trying to kill it

meets up with everyone. they talk for a while but nothing super notable to be said

(jimmy got up to get a snack and the stream chat started talking to his chair. it made me giggle)

he got super fast shoes. everyone is jealous of him. bitches love him and his super fast shoes.

i look away for like 5 minutes and hes now. wearing a whoopee cushion on his head. and a crown!

jimmy and sausage beat up a boss and it drops a ring. sausage picks it up and asks jimmy to marry him. jimmy IMMEDIATELY rejects him. no hesitation

^ little chicken hat :) cleo has a little pig hat and they match and its really cute.

jimmy gets a big axe and is like omg its so big!! and cleo AND sausage immediately jump on like oh tell me how you got it so big jimmy. and hes like guys. guys please.

sausage gets an ancient gong with unreadable runes on it. he obviously hits it multiple times. nothing happens at least.

they find ren and he has a little sheep hat so now 3 of them are matching. sausage feels very left out.

jimmy and oli meet up. oli does a bit of being like.. the spirit of the forest. oli gives jim a sapling and jim gives oli an invisibility cape. oli ends the bit and comes back as himself. he has a bow on his lower back and jimmys like wow you have a bow on your back. oli calls his ass big and juicy. frowns

oli tries to hit jimmy like 20 times and its just not working. jimmy is invincible i think.

oli and jim go to a village and make a bit of stealing childrens lunch money. idk why but they are. it doesnt work.

they meet up with lizzie and oli does his "spirit of the forest" bit again. he starts to give lizzie a riddle and says "what is wet and long- and not dry-" then gets confused and just. doesnt finish it at all.

lizzie mentions jims large weapon. jimmy voice "nothings too big for me" oli voice "nothings too big for jim" why have 2 separate groups made the exact same joke.

lizzie crashes and oli calls her and it goes to voicemail and he leaves a message and he ends it with a bunch of chappell roan song names. when jimmy doesnt know what he means olis immediately like THIS GUY IS NOT AN ALLY.

^ like 5 minutes after that they kiss so.

jim gives lizzie an ocean necklace after she logs in again. crazy

oli and jim are potentially basing together. we MIGHT be back.

uhhhhh stream end :p double upload on sunday (one main channel one roblox channel) not sure if im gonna summarise all these streams if only bc i have. No Idea whats going on. i dont understand modded mc at all. despite that it is a chill vod if u need background noise for anything

YAYYY JIMMY STREAM SUMMARY yeah this SMP came out of nowhere. I heard nothing about it. Fun that Rendog is here though!! And Cleo!!

"well being small is fun for a stream and then it gets a bit annoying doesnt it." OFF TO A NOT GOOD START GRRRRRRRR JIMMY..........my son..... ESMP2 haunts him... And then he goes and makes fun of fWhip LMAO. Not going to fault him but also not going to fault fWhip for almost killing Jimmy a few times, deserved

Sausage's humor making me want to end myself as usual. But Jimmy immediately rejecting his marriage proposal did put a smile on my face. If it weren't for moments like this to balance out Sausage just. the way he is. I would actually be infuriated if I ever watched SMP streams he's in. Sorry Sausage fans

"jimmys like wow you have a bow on your back. oli calls his ass big and juicy. frowns" ?????? Oli?? ok whatever its. whatecver

"Oli starts to give lizzie a riddle and says "what is wet and long- and not dry-" then gets confused and just. doesnt finish it at all." ok thats funny lmao. hurt himself in his own confusion . deserved

Omg Oli and Jim kiss though <3 and them basing together potentially yes please

Ok yeah that sounds both chill and very confusing. I also don't understand heavily modded mc. But why is their humor sense just sex jokes again can they sprinkle in some other jokes every once in awhile PLEASE IM BEGGING

[nightfang22]

Get Angry

As a special treat for my friend @p34ch-tr33 who always pulls out my best work! Enjoy!

TW:Angst,smut insinuation,alcohol,18+

A tear runs down my cheek as I blow out the last candle on the cake. 20 candles nearly completely melted, wax mixed with icing, I sat alone in the dark as I waited for him. He should've been here 5 hours ago. Kenny promised this year would be different. He promised. I scroll through my Snapchat just looking at people's stories and watching dog videos. I clicked on Stan's story expecting to see cute photos of Sparky or videos with Wendy. What I saw broke my heart. Stan's story was filled with nothing but videos of a party at Kenny's house. I could see Wendy and Bebe taking shots and Cartman and Heidi making out. Butters was hitting on some poor drunk girl in the corner and Kyle was playing video games. Craig and Tweek were watching Jimmy break dance on a cardboard box in the middle of the room. I choked back a hard sob stuck in my throat but ultimately I failed. Then I remembered what my father told me when I was little: Don't cry, get mad. And when you get mad, get even. I picked myself up and brushed myself off, tossing the ruined cake in the garbage before fixing my makeup. I grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to Kenny's house.

Ever since Kenny's dad got that oil rig job and is never home anymore, Kenny hasn't really been Kenny. We used to celebrate each other's birthdays together all the time when we were kids but he's missed the last couple of years. He always made it up to me in the end but this time he completely forgot and didn't invite me to his party! I'll show him. I pull into Kenny's driveway and get out of my car. I knock on the door but there's no answer. 'Maybe the music is too loud for them to hear anything else?' So I knock again but louder. Stan opens the door looking back over his shoulder laughing at something before turning his head to face me. His eyes widen in shock. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?" He has a glass in his hand that has a golden brown liquid in it. I relieve him of his glass and down it. 'Hm, Kenny's dad's Scotch from the fancy liquor cabinet.' "I just came to say hi to Kenny and to remind him of the date. You know, since he didn't invite me to his little shindig." I said through gritted teeth. Stan is just staring at me dumbfounded before saying, "What? Kenny told us you couldn't make it cause you were sick. Everyone was asking about you." I smile softly and hug him. That makes me feel a teensy bit better. "Thank you, Stan. Where's Kenny?" I ask, my voice now calm and soft. Stan steps aside to let me in and points over to his dad's recliner where Kenny is sat watching Kyle play Nintendo. I give Stan back the empty glass and march over to Kenny. I stand in front of him, blocking his view of Kyle's game. I see his eyes widen for but a moment before I kick him square in the junk. "KENNY MCCORMICK, YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND AND BIGGEST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER MET AND THAT SAYS SOMETHING CONSIDERING WE'VE KNOWN CARTMAN OUR WHOLE GODDAMN LIVES!" I scream at him in front of everyone. He's not wearing his parka so I have a full view of his face and just how red his cheeks are from embarrassment. The music suddenly stops and the whole room falls silent as everyone has their eyes on us. "NOT ONLY DO YOU THROW A PARTY AND TELL EVERYONE I'M SICK BUT YOU FORGET MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROW, YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT! I HOPE YOU GET TOSSED ONTO A PIKE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I THINK THAT KENNY KABOBS SOUND PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW!" And I kick him square in the junk one more time. Just for good measure, of course. "Okay everyone, let the party continue! It is my birthday, after all!" I slit my eyes in Kenny's direction when I say the word 'birthday'.

     The music starts up again and everyone goes back to partying like nothing even happened. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a heavy drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I roll my eyes sighing. Spinning around, I say "Kenny, I'm not sorry for kicking you in the balls and I'm especially not sorry for crashing your party, either." But when I spin around I am not met with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. I am met with messy black hair peeking out of a cute blue hat. "I'm not sorry you did either of those things, too. He really deserved it." It's Craig. I look up at his rather tall frame. Craig has towered over me since we were little. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kenny." He fakes being wounded in the chest. "Ouch, (Y/N). That bad, huh?" I could only laugh at his cheesy joke and brush his arm as I reply, "Nah, you're way cuter." His cheeks turn bright pink and that's when I notice Kenny watching out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around Craig's neck and pull him in. We start to makeout and he has me pressed up against the wall. I break away only to pull him up the staircase to Kenny's bedroom. I open the door as Craig takes off his shirt. I turn to him as he pins me to the door, shutting it. He pulls my shirt off and unclasps my bra. He moves me to the bed and takes his hat off, placing it gently atop my head. Removing my skirt and undergarments, Craig kisses his way up my legs before he has me pinned beneath him. I never thought that my first time would be like this. As a revenge tactic with someone I didn't love. Especially not with Craig Tucker. He's leaning down to kiss me again when the door slams wide open. Kenny bursts through the door and pulls Craig off of me by the back of his head, slamming him into the wall. I jump up to my elbows. It appears that Craig is rendered unconscious. He's still breathing at least. I can see his chest moving rhythmically. I stare at Kenny as his head turns to me, his breathing hot and heavy. I can see why. He has a raging boner in his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and crawls on top of me. We make very intense and intimate eye contact for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have forgotten." I clear my throat. "Or lied to everyone about you being sick. Can you please forgive me?" Kenny gives me his best puppy eyes, the ones that always got me to do whatever he wanted when we were little and even still to this day. "Okay, fine. I'll forgive you." He smiled at me softly kissing me on the lips. "You weren't really about to give away what's mine to Craig, right?" I shake my head while giggling. He chuckles. "Good. Now let me give you your birthday gift." He strips his bottoms and I flip him over. "Let me." I whisper. I get real close to his face before I whisper, "Nice try, asshole." I sit back up and slap him across the face. "You could never have me no matter how bad you want me, McCormick." I spit in his face as I got up, Craig's hat still atop my head. I saunter over to the door taking a final turn to look at Kenny. "You'd just die on me anyways, you fucking flip phone." Those were the last words I ever spoke to Kenny McCormick as I left him laying there confused and sexually frustrated with his cock out in a room with an unconscious Craig.

Word Count:1,358

[kai-anderson-whore]

The evans (what they're like drunk)

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤���¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

Tate Langdon:

okay so I feel like tate would be so fun to get drunk with

•until he thinks of something sad then your his shoulder to cry on

•you'll probably end up crying too

•but besides that he'll play nirvana on repeat and will make you dance with him to about a girl

•you will definitely make out at Somepoint during the night

•that's the type of friendship you both have

Kit Walker:

•now kit is a pretty relaxed when he drinks which in my mind is probably like a few beers at night once the kids are asleep

•I'd imagine him with a record on probably elvis or sinatra sitting on his chair with you in one arm a cold beer in the other

•he'd be more loving when he has a drink or two in him placing kisses on your shoulders telling you sweet nothings

•just blissful

Kyle spencer post- death:

•now as we all know Kyle is a frat boy so he'd be a mess if he's completely hammered

•but he's the responsible one so that doesn't happen often

•he'd make sure your safe and that his frat brothers don't do stupid things

•but if he get so drunk he'd be like "y/n do you know how much I love your cute face" with smoochy lips 😘😘

Jimmy darling:

•we've seen it in the show he has his moment when he's drinking

•like tate one minute he can be happy singing songs that pop into his head without a care In the would to being all sad or angry if its missing his mother or just something stupid that pissed him off

•his hands will be all over you without a doubt he's a horny drunk

•you would tell him no if you are sober but if you drank with him then your going at it all night let's just say

James patrick march:

•Now as we all know james likes his whisky and absinthe and being dead he could literally drink anyone under the table

•he doesn't get wasted probably thinks it's distasteful but he did a few times before and let's just say he's a helpless romantic even drunk

•would literally shower you with live and affection and if you don't let him he's a whiny bitch

•"darling What's the matter please hug me" "James you reek of booze" "this is an outrage"

Rory monaghan:



•Rory will bombard all his social media platforms with videos of a night out like he would post every detail of the night

•instantly regrets it in the morning when he's hungover

•will definitely do weird dad dances and would want you to join him so he's not alone

•I feel like he's the type of drunk that would need to be on one of those backpacks kids have so they don't run away because the second your eyes leave him he's off and it will take ages to find him

•he would be one of those drunks that ask so many weird questions no one knows the answer to like "how are humans actually put on this earth it doesn't make sence"

(Kai Anderson)



•Now kai would stop drinking because he needs to stay sharp for the cult but if he's having a very bad day he would drink his problems away or fuck his stress out of you

•he's an angry drunk for sure would constantly snap at anyone in sight and throw glasses in the room

•if your there you could possibly calm bim down sometimes it's a no go but you try your best

•would definitely try and get into your panties but you say no because well he's drunk but kai is consistent and will not take no for a answer

(Jeff pfister)



•Jeff wouldn't drink since he's always off his tits with the coke but he might mix them both on occasion

•he would blackout not remember a single thing at all

•probably would make out with mutt since he's completely wasted

•would wake up the next morning with mutt not remembering a thing which freaks him out because he could had probably committed a crime and he wouldn't know but you were there the next morning with a photo gallery full of videos from the night before

(Austin sommers)



•Now we all know austin likes his alcohol but he also likes to still be fully aware of what's going on around him

•but once in a blue moon he would get hammered which he would never be away from karaoke singing all the cheesy hits like cotton eye Joe or barbie girl

•once your both home he would ask you to pamper him with face masks and what not, so you both lay on the bed with a face mask on some more whisky laughing and joking (I think this could be a fic?)

[bijouxcarys]

Cherry Lips (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Summary: Our unnamed fem!OC pokes the lion and faces the consequences. 1998 Robert.

Note: This started off as a "short fic," but has turned out a hefty 3.4k words yikes.

Tags: @callmethehunter @m-faithfull @whothefuckisanja @celestial-dragoness @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @angrychicksposts @firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76 @chromations

She knew she’d fucked up. God, she knew it. But in her defence, Robert was being a dick.

She was right there, following him around like a lost puppy—for him, to support him, but no… the Golden God he’d firmly insisted was locked away in a glass box was still there. 18 years. 18 years of trying to get as far away from that strange young lad who wore jeans too tight and too low, and wailed whatever nonsense overtook him in the moment. Yet, there he was. Bright as day. In the heart of Italy. Playing the same old game. 

Girls still flocked. How could they not? He was gorgeous, despite his rapidly approaching 50th birthday. And it didn’t matter to her that she was 25 years his junior. Because she saw him for everything he was; not what he used to be.

The only problem? His weakness. The feminine energy that ran potent everywhere he went. The soul of a woman, if you may…

It was almost as if he’d forgotten that she was there as other girls of her age, give or take a few years, stood small and flustered in the presence of the once untouchable Robert Plant. Like Adam at the mercy of a cobra, he shamelessly chomped away at the apple dangling before his eyes, bypassing the security of his Eve.

It didn’t matter how often she’d hear the endearing pet names of “honey,” “darlin’,” “baby,” or “love”; they’d become mere lyrics to a song now. He sang them to thousands, night after night—wailed them through the ridges of a record in the homes of millions around the world.

They meant nothing.

Romanticisation. Just like the country they’d inhabited for the past 15 hours, the career of a rockstar was marred by an idealistic fantasy. They don’t tell you about the inferiority, the frugality. The way other girls would stare you down, head to toe, silently creating their own version of your story. The mind games that meticulously waltzed in ricochets between both parties. It was inescapable. Inevitable. Impossible to avoid.

But whilst Robert graciously played the part, sending his signature smirk in the direction of every pretty young thing that came his way, he only saw her. She was the only one, and had been for almost a year. He’d hoped that she knew that by now. Alas, he wasn’t an idiot. It didn’t take an expert to notice the way she’d become increasingly restless when playing her own role of Observing Woman. And there had been many to do so over the years. 

Robert expected this attitude from her. He knew it made her feel useless. But he’d explained to her time and time again that it was part of the gig. His job. The way he kept up appearances. Without struggle, she understood that, entirely. 

Unfortunately, Robert made the mistake of assuming her understanding meant she liked it.

Typically, she’d be able to get through a press event with him, or any other encounter they’d have with a flock or two of excited girls, with minimal irritation. But tonight, it was a little too much. Too great to completely ignore. 

Robert was particularly enjoying the attention that day as he and Jimmy went through their regularly scheduled interviews that they would have much preferred to pass up on. Unlike every other time, where he’d send her playful winks and reassuring smiles, he hadn’t looked at her once. Hell, even Jimmy had acknowledged her presence more than Robert had done. 

This time, it was a cute little redhead with big green eyes and a freckled complexion that had become the centre of his immersion. The total opposite of what she was. Redhead was withdrawn, timid, soft spoken, whilst she stood above the average female height, with a gaze that could slice a ruby in half. It was what attracted Robert to her in the first place. A straight-talking, relentlessly loyal, dark-featured Femme Fatale that he loved to overpower in the bedroom and steal the power she possessed otherwise.

The pair’s dynamic was a tantalising switch from what Robert was used to from his female companions. Between the sheets, it was a struggle for dominance, but a struggle they wouldn’t trade for anything. Either way, it always ended up with her legs over his shoulders, hips pummelling away at her like he’d never get to again. And more often than not, she’d wear his hand as her own personalised necklace, encouraging him to squeeze around the expanse of her throat with each thrust of his cock.

And that was how she liked it, and how Robert knew she kept him in a very special place in her heart.

Nobody could overpower her, unless that somebody was him.

Which was why, as he finally cast a glance in the direction of his beloved, he felt every vein in his body pulsate with emotions akin to jealousy. There she was. Tall in her platform stilettos and delicate fingers pushing a stray curl of dark hair from Jimmy’s forehead as she spoke so casually with him. 

He could see it in the way she smiled at Jimmy. The proximity that bordered on too close. The way the guitarist fell so receptive to her silky tone, eyes unashamedly taking in every movement and curve of her cherry-stained lips as she talked.

This was no accident, though. She knew exactly what she was doing. The sideways look she gave Robert was a dead giveaway, and she was stunned to see he was actually looking back. Got him.

With a restrained smirk, she flipped her hair behind her shoulder and continued her conversation with Jimmy, inching closer to him with brave intention. 

That was all it took for Robert to cut the interviews short, call a car, and drag his lover back to the hotel they were staying at. She remained steel-gazed the whole time, refusing to give him the satisfaction of breaking her that easily. In fact, as soon as the door shut behind them, she made a beeline for the bathroom, Robert following irritatingly close.

“Can’t even go to the bathroom without you lurking,” she passively hummed, leaning over the counter to double check her makeup was still intact. 

“What the fuck was that?” Robert snapped. 

She looked at him through the reflection of the mirror, the familiar clenching in the pit of her stomach at the sight of Robert’s perfectly ageing features lit up by the small room’s restrictive lighting. Like Michael the Fallen Angel: pure until pushed. Adam had become the cobra, the apple devoured and rotten in the grounds of his gallant love. And he had his sights set on his Eve.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Robert,” she sighed.

“God, you can be so insufferable.”

“Coming from everyone’s favourite Golden God,” she breathed, exaggerating the candour of thousands of girls.

“Excuse me?” Robert’s brows narrowed, casting an intimidating shadow over his eyes.

“Come off it, Robert…” She rolled her eyes, turning to leave the bathroom, but was instantly stilled by a large, strong hand wrapping around her arm. She successfully repressed the smile that wanted to plaster her face, and simply lifted her gaze to meet his. Their faces were dangerously close, and the distant buzz of the bathroom’s ventilation system became the soundtrack to an intense stand-off between two wild beasts on the precipice of destruction.

Taking a deep breath, she continued to look up at him, refusing to speak first. Though she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up. The close proximity and the enclosed surroundings made it difficult to keep from squeezing her thighs together. She cursed Robert mentally as he closed the bathroom door behind him, all whilst maintaining ardent eye contact.

“I think the door’s supposed to go the other way if you wish to leave, my love,” she provoked, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

Eyes, usually a beautiful pool of blue, darkened—with lust, frustration, carnal desire. He knew she was pushing him. He’d just have to navigate the pull in response. He came closer to her, breath mixing with hers as he made out he was going to kiss her, only to stop mere centimetres from her lips to hum lowly.

“You’ve got a right mouth on you today.” He almost spoke through his teeth, jaw clenched.

She pursed her cherry lips, challenging her older lover. “Do I?” she asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow. The grip on her arm tightened, and led her to stand directly in front of him. Her eyes remained fixed on his. “Are you just gonna stare at me?”

Within a blink of an eye, both of Robert’s hands had a hold of each side of her head, thumbs resting on her cheeks and fingers threading into her hair. He held her close to him, forcing her to tilt her head further up. She was breaking him. Bit by bit. The sudden move of dominance succeeded in weakening her resolve by an iota, and her eyes began their impulsive hooding.

Robert’s eyes darted around her entire face, taking in every curve, dip, and feature. She was otherworldly to him. An audacious succubus sent to test him in every aspect of his life. And she was all his. To do with whatever he pleased. No matter how much of a fight she put up, he’d win. Or rather, she allowed him to win.

“I really love that colour on you,” he murmured, admiring her characteristic choice of lipstick.

A satisfied smirk found its way onto her lips, enjoying the compliment, despite the current situation. She was human, after all. That, and it reminded her that he wasn’t truly angry at her, and that this was all part of the larger game their relationship had become.

“Do you?” she whispered, taking on a more timid cadence.

“Mhm.” He nodded, running a thumb delicately over her lower lip. He tugged at it, watching as its plumpness bounced back against her teeth. “But, you know…” he sighed. “As much as I love it on your lips, I think I’d rather see it around my cock, don’t you?”

There it was. The break. The moment she’d been craving. As a hand lowered to possessively wrap around her neck, she swallowed under its mighty grip, and found herself falling deeper under the control Robert enforced.

But not entirely. Not yet. Just a little extra push…

“Really?” She tilted her head to the side as much as she could in his grasp. “Because judging by your distractions, I half-expected to be leaving it on Jimm–” She gasped under her breath as she was shoved down onto her knees.

“No more about Jimmy fucking Page,” he spat, letting go of her throat and moving his hands to the belt on his leather-effect trousers. “You want to be a little slut and blow every rockstar you come across, be my guest…” He let the words hang in the air as he swiftly pulled his belt from the loops around his hips. “But whilst you’re with me,” he threw the belt to the side, the metal buckle clanging against the porcelain of the bathtub beside them, “it’s only me.” He gripped her face with one hand, making her look up at him instead of where the belt had landed. “Understood?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not the one that needs reminding of loyalty, Mr. Plant.”

Done with her backchat, he roughly shoved her face back. She caught herself on her hands behind her, her core fluttering with anticipation.

“Enough with the talking,” he firmly demanded, “You want to use your fucking mouth so much? Is that what it is?” She parted her lips to answer, but he cut her off. “I said enough with the talking,” he growled. She sighed, clenching her jaw. She hadn’t even noticed through the back and forth, that Robert had shimmied his trousers and underwear down enough to relieve his hardened cock from its confines.

Gaze meeting it, any trace of disobedience withered down to a shrub. Her breath was shaky, her mouth on the verge of watering, and her eyes glimmered with want as she looked back up at Robert.

“I don’t know what you’re gawking at, little girl, it isn’t gunna suck itself, is it?” He glared at her, before grabbing a fistful of her hair, and dragging her closer until it was impossible to avoid taking him into her mouth. Not that she didn’t want to—she was ravenous for it.

Robert made it a chore for her to efficiently take him, with how close he had her held against him. She had to move at an awkward angle to even access the red hot tip, but she achieved it with much humiliation at her struggle. He let out a heavy breath, head resting back against the door as his little succubus got to work, mouth scorching and tight, just like her cunt. As badly as he wanted to throw her onto the bed metres away from them, and devour every drop of her sweetness until she cried for him to stop, she needed this stern reminder. Wanted it, even.

“That’s it, darlin’...” he groaned, pulling at her hair and then pushing against her head, building up a rhythm that satisfied. She breathed out of her nose, hands flying to his thighs for any ounce of stability.

Minutes into the act, and she could already catch glimpses of her lipstick transferring halfway down his thick shaft, veins painted with a cherry crimson.

“I know you can do better than that.”

His gruff words encouraged her, and her nails dug into his firm thighs as a small indication of the microscopic ounce of resilience that still sat below the surface. In response, his hand twisted harshly in her hair, pulling a cry from the back of her throat that only served to translate as vibrations against him.

With another tantalising grunt, he brought her head precariously closer, leaving her with no other choice than to force the expanse of his cock further into her mouth, the tip beginning to prod at her throat. Her eyes squeezed shut briefly, winded by the sudden gesture.

“Awh, what’s wrong, baby?” Robert cooed condescendingly down at her, taking a sick pride in her labour. Teeth baring down on his lip, he reaped the benefits of his young lover’s mouth as it stretched so deliciously around his cock. Already there were tears forming at the corners of her smoky eyes. Fuck, that’s gonna look so good running down her face…

She unwillingly let out a struggled whimper, trying her best to relax her throat, knowing there was still more to receive.

“I thought you enjoyed using your mouth,” he scoffed.

He kept his comments to himself as he formed a steady pace with his hips, holding her head in place. She was certain her underwear was drenched by now. Having Robert’s warm, salty skin take residence on every taste bud available was sometimes too much for her cunt to handle. Especially when she knew the chances of getting immediate relief after the fact were short.

Soon enough, her nose was snug against the mass of hair that laid at the base of this God’s aphrodisiac appendage, the natural scent of him grounding her in the moment. She somehow willed her throat to relax enough to allow the slick and weeping tip to glide as far back as it needed as she fit every inch of him into her mouth.

Overcome with the desire to pleasure him, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder at him every time he withdrew his hips. Her lipstick was smudged, for sure. Tears had fallen, and she could only imagine how she looked for him at that moment.

“So pretty, baby…” he moaned. At one point, he ceased his thrusts, pulling her back to get a real good look at her fucked-out face. “Look at the state of you… you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you, darlin’?” he asked with a crude swipe of his thumb across her chin, effectively smearing lipstick and saliva across her cheek in a further act of degradation.

Her vision remained blurred, and she felt borderline breathless. She didn’t even fully comprehend his question. And he loved it. What he could do to her…

“Aren’t you?” he pushed.

With wide, reddened eyes, she gazed up at him and meekly nodded. Wrong answer.

“Speak, darlin’, you’ve been so good at that today.”

“Yes…” she choked out, leaning her head back into his hand, completely submitting to him in every way. She didn’t care that her knees began bearing the burden of the cold, hard tiles in this hotel bathroom. It was for him. All for him.

“Yes, what?”

God, she needed him so bad… 

“…Daddy...”

“That’s better,” he nodded his head once, taking his cock in one of his hands. He lewdly dragged his tip along her lips, the precum coating the sensitive flesh. “Wish I had that camera right now, baby… you look so pretty like this. So obedient. All fucked out…”

Her eyebrows furrowed needily, her lips parting to allow her tongue to flick against the head of his cock. Maintaining eye contact, she circled around the bulbous area, applying pressure against the underside.

“My talented little thing…” he hummed, beads of sweat adhering stray curls to his forehead. “Keep going, baby… keep taking me in that pretty mouth of yours…”

Unable to challenge him any further, she abided by the rules of their dynamic.

Sloppily, lazily, yet eagerly, she bobbed her head up and down Robert’s cock, eyes fixed on him from below. His eyes fluttered shut, and his mouth hung open, head pressing back against the door. 

Witnessing his pleasure set a fire deep within her, and she sped up her movements, hand gripping firmly at his base. Whenever she’d pull back to spit messily over his erection, a thick rope of her saliva followed suit. It made her moan. Clench around nothing. Her clit throbbed. Her nipples hardened under her blouse. Every sense tingled. All because of him.

She needed all of him. To make him come undone—erupt. Needed it so bad… 

“Fuck, don’t stop, baby,” Robert breathed, once again taking her hair into his hand, guiding her up and down his length. Her free hand came up to massage his tight, full balls. “Fuck! Yes… so, so good…” he hissed, composure slowly crumbling. “Daddy’s gunna cum right down that throat, little girl…” he rambled, teeth clenched, before he yanked her back, running his own hand along his length rapidly.

She was forced to watch, the beautiful combination of red and purple tinting the head of his cock. “Please…” she whimpered, batting her teary eyes at him. “Please, Daddy…” 

Holding her head back, he leaned over her. “Open up, baby.” She did. Tongue stuck out. Waiting for his load. “My good little girl.” He let out a guttural moan, hips thrusting into his own fist, before the hot spurts shot out onto her tongue, some landing on her cheek, and some dripping down onto her chin.

She waited patiently until he had completely milked himself to move from her position, merely acting as a receptacle. Eventually, Robert regained his bearings and gruffly ordered her to swallow everything. To clean her own face up, and to not leave a single drop.

With his granted permission, she was finally allowed to stand back up. Her knees were weak, and had to rely on Robert to help her steady herself. As she cleaned her face up at the sink, he kept his head resting on her shoulder, tucked away and in the process of calming, and his hand held gently onto her waist.

“C’mere, honey,” Robert softly said, bringing her into his arms. He planted a kiss on her forehead and held her tightly to him. “‘M sorry for ignoring you, darlin’.”

She inhaled deeply, her face fitting perfectly against his chest. “It’s okay…” she mumbled.

Robert pulled his head back and stared down at her bare face, lips now natural and swollen from her Goddess duties. “You’re so special to me,” he whispered.

Smiling softly at him, she sighed contently. “I know.”

They shared a passionate kiss, solidifying their eccentric love for one another, and the thrill of the game.

[bloodgulchblog]

Alright fuck it, s2e1 liveblog.

I'm watching this with people later so the goal is just to get through it enough to sate my impatience, so I'm back to ye olde standby of watching it at high speed with subtitles on. (...Only I guess I'm gonna be slowed down by making comments, huh?)

Spoilers and uncharitable opinions and unfunny jokes will follow.

Not going to talk about stuff in the episode opener until it comes back bc there's not enough to say anything about.

5 minutes in and we're already doing whatever this is huh?

6:30 - Alright okay, fuck, Vannak took his spine pellet out and gets to have one (1) personality trait and it's animal facts and I kind of don't hate that. TV Chief is very unlikable but characters like Kai and Vannak playing the angle of having very youthful quirks bc having emotions is new is cute.

~10:00 - I have nothing to say yet about spooky shapes in the fog but I think this shot of Chief back to back with a marine is fun. Also I wonder if Corporal Perez (this character) will still matter 5 minutes from now.

Also looks like the foggy sword fight from the trailer is here, too difficult to get any kind of cap that doesn't suck out loud. I'm thinking about how I heard someone making a big deal about how Season 2 feels "less like a video game" (whatever that means), meanwhile "fog full of stealth sword guys trying to kill you" feels very very video game level.

~13:00 - Man, and I really thought that sword fighting stuff in the trailer was a solid indicator they were dragging Thel 'Vadamee into this mess. Hey guys look, Arbiter's in this season. 4,000 of him!

Additionally, if a bunch of people decide this is a ship the fandom owes me twenty dollars.

~15:00 - Congrats to Perez for surviving five minutes. Also, we're still doing whatever this is:

16 minutes in we finally get the show's opener. (It has the Halo in it now, I don't think it was there before but let's be perfectly honest it's not like I cared a lot.)

~17:30 or something, reminded once again that a lot of people are attracted to this actor

Also guess what, Keyes is an Admiral now I guess????

Do we think he still gets to get eaten by the Flood eventually? Do we think the Flood will even be in here? Place ur bets at the counter.

Anyway, they're basically diving into a big timeskip here where a bunch of planets have been glassed since last season (including Madrigal). This whole AU is weird to the bone in terms of how its timeline is shaking out.

Anyway anyway, aww here we go

"I'm not here to replace Dr Halsey, I'm here because I believe in you!"

Ohhhhh he knows all the Spartans' names already, ohhhhh they want the audience to like this mf so bad, they want it to be such a tweest that he sucks shit-

Moving right along, at 22:30 we have the Rubble having a crowd decide whether various refugees should be spaced or taken into indentured servitude, because of course we do.

tl;dw the nebbish redhead knows where Catherine Halsey is and there's a big bounty out for her and he's trying to use it as a bargaining chip to not die and everyone thinks that's very funny, also Soren is here. I guarantee he decides to go after her, but first we have to have a scene cut back to whatever TV Chief is doing.

Man I'm really noticing they haven't shown the weird ridged rubber tech suit yet this episode, I wonder if they decided to replace it.

Anyway here's Perez, I still think they want people to start shipping:

Then Jimmy Rings has a meeting with tv show's new guy they want you to like so bad.

Also he says "The O-N-I" like a complete tool. (This is how you know he sucks.)

And while I'm talking trash about him: Ackerson stop flirting, didn't they tell you nobody's allowed to be gay in Halo? Get your shit together.

Thus ends the dream of the funniest possible universe where we just had Cortana: The Show forever. Someone get the penny whistle. My heart will not go on. 😢

Fuck, I was doing timestamps, right? I'm like half an hour in.

THEY STILL WANT YOU TO THINK ACKERSON CARES, BY THE WAY, IN CASE YOU DID NOT NOTICE

They're laying this on so thick so fast there's no way he's not a shitweasel in this AU, but also that would be the funniest possible thing to me.

(If anyone ships this, the fandom owes me forty dollars and therapy.)

ANYWAY... Action figure time. (Remember to boycott Jazwares!)

Soren's kid is playing with a MASTER CHIEF ACTION FIGURE and being weird, meanwhile Soren's wife is calling him out on shit and reminding him that refugees being turned away is, you know, bad.

Congrats to Soren's wife for continuing to be the most unexpectedly sympathetic supporting character I guess, but they made Soren so unlikable off the 1st season it's hard for me to feel investment of any kind here.

35 minutes in: the Spartans are watching a space TV broadcast. They have Ca-ADMIRAL. Admiral. Admiral Keyes presenting the Colonial Cross to Corporal Perez for blah blah blah you saw the start of the episode. The shape of the ceremony and the hovering tv drone thing are obvious H2 references.

(Does this mean Perez is our Sergeant Johnson now? Vote with your phones.)

Get your face out of here, Ackerson, I know what you are.

Oh god there's another team of Spartans (Cobalt) and having adult Spartan-IIs call each other names like children is fucking weird.

Aaaaand tumblr is capping the number of images I can post here and I'm still only about half way done. Fuck. I am not doing this this way for Episode 2 I can promise you that.

(Also hey look the tech suit is back, I guess Silver Team doesn't use it so much anymore to show you they're more human now or whatever?)

[tiistirtipii]

Vice versa episode 12 thoughts

Some people might have seen my episode 11 rant post in which I was unhappy with a lot of the episode and I was really worried about how they were going to tie it all together in episode 12. I am surprised to say that I absolutely loved the episode and I think everything was wrapped up nicely and cemented Vice Versa as a show I will continue to love. Without further ado here are my thoughts about the episode. Please note this is a ridiculously long post of every thought I had

-Talay is not the only one who knew you were acting Puen, Gmmtv really baited us with everything they had at the end of the last episode. I was so worried about them switching again and I’m really glad they didn’t

- Sure you two are being cute as hell and such put can you please put your nips away they are staring at me its scary

- Puen has art of finger guns in his room, Bi confirmed

- Talay trying to recreate the bread horns is adorable

- They’re actually too sweet I’m gonna be sick

- The ‘Thank you for taking away my fear of tomorrow’/’Thank you for being born so that I could love you’ scene is the best kiss in the series, I said it. Also ridiculously sweet

- As soon as the director guy said ‘I believe every word you said’ I was like oh shit he’s travelled too

- I’m so glad there is an Association in this universe as well, it being in the equivalent of the Friend Credits tent is a nice touch.

- 👉 ‘Nong’

- Talay being so excited about the job and Puen being so supportive, I’m so happy for him I was so worried Tess was going to irreversibly screw everything up

- Talay loves pink now 🥺🥺🥺🥺

- Puen giggling in the Friend Credits t-shirt he’s such a cutie

- The interviewer guy was being so pushy with the questions about the picture but I guess that’s his job

- Gyo is so based, yes it is his personal business, some people… should try being more like her. Supportive bestie queen

- I know manager Prikyuak is trying to do his job but they kinda have some trauma about not seeing each other dude

- I do like how Talay didn’t just immediately assume the worst or assume Puen didn’t want to see him, he was just worried

- Tup and Tou 🥰🥰🥰, them being so supportive 🥰🥰🥰

- Neo really out here playing three characters at a time and all of them are brilliant. GMMTV please give him a main role please.

- Talay even suggesting going seperate ways after all they’ve been through is absurd

- Supportive bestie is at it again with the video. Using the alpaca to get the message to him awww

- Drunk Talay is such a sweetheart

- Tell me how in the week leading up to episode 12 I literally thought nonstop about a scene where Puen is asked between work and love and I thought about how easy the answer would be for him. My actual ideal scene was for him to state to the paparazzi and people that were harassing him and Talay that if he had to pick between his work and his love he would chose the love with no question and if people were really his fans they would stop harassing them about it because the solution would be for him to stop acting. AND THEN THAT SCENE WAS REAL. I actually couldn’t believe it.

-✨✨Without work, I can survive, Without him, I can’t✨✨

- For some reason I thought when Talay and Gyo were in the car they were going to crash and get sent back through universes. I think the end of episode 11 made me super paranoid they would switch at any moment.

- I asked for a scene between Puen and Talay’s mum and they did not disappoint. He’s such a cutie who’s mum wouldn’t love him?

- ‘How old are you, eight?’ She’s such a queen I love her

- ‘Your son is stubborn’ get his ass Puen

- Talay with his glasses up, I repeat, Talay with his glasses up!! Sea looks so good

- Here for the Jimmy in glasses agenda

- An hourglass with sand that doesn’t fall 😭

- Can’t believe 2gether of all shows nearly got the last word

- Sorry it has to be said, they could have really worked on the kissing scenes.

- I love a good montage and a montage of the other universe was a great idea to fit what’s going on into the last episode without leaving too many questions unanswered

- Neo in a suit, 10/10

- Fuse and Aou 💕💕

- Aou’s face after the cheek kiss. Pity we didn’t see more of them

- Friend Credits making a Vice Versa film 🥹

- ALSO!! Tess!! If there’s one thing I want to know its how he reacted to the life he has now, I really hope he went through some quick character development and learnt to appreciate what Talay did for him

- Tun and Tess working on a movie together and falling in love? Sound familiar?

- DOL!!! Please someone write a fic where Talay and Puen get to speak to Dol again, or at least to this universe’s version of them and update them on what’s happening in their original life.

- Friend credits version 2.0 featuring Tup and Tou

- And the pink trumpet tree has been growing there the whole time 🥺

- How cute would it be if Puen’s wish said something along the lines of ‘Ever since I saw you in that airport bathroom, I have fallen head over heels in love with you’ to parallel his earlier wish and Talays wish? Lets go head over heels for each other is cute as well I guess

- Guys please don’t fuck in the Friend Credits caravan, is no place sacred?

- Thank you Lays for supporting gay rights

- Imagine if he put a ring in the Lays bag, I would’ve lost it

- Playing the Not Me trailer right afterwards was a shock to the system

If you have actually managed to read this, congratulations for making it to the end of every thought I had watching this episode. I clearly need someone to talk to about these shows. Vice Versa has been an amazing show to watch, with great acting and a lot of care and detail put into the sets, props and story. Thank you to the Vice Versa team.

[liopleurodean]

Season 12, Episode 15: Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell

Demons and hellhounds today

And Lucifer

Sheridan is WAY up in the panhandle. Near Carhenge!

Get off your phone, man

Weird

Aaand... BAM! Death

Aw, cute

No, now I don't want them to die 😭

Don't split up

NOOOOO NOT THE PROPOSAL 😭😭😭

Classic sock

Awww

Run away. Run away right now

Hellhound gone rogue?

HAH Lucille 😂

Ew

Dude, seriously, what happened to the germophobia?

I didn't want to know that

I'm pretty sure it does

Nerd

Make art, apparently

Dean, please, be true to your character

Bobo Berens save me

Nice

Dagon, probably

Are they playing Christmas music?

Weird

Conspiracy nut

A lot of things could get through that

The Queen...

Uh-huh

Poor Cas

Dude is seriously out of touch

Kelly Kline

Angel blades

He saw plenty

No, demonic

More like a hellhound

She's probably right

Poor girl

Sounds legit

I guess

Except for the fact that the hellhound is still around

Ginger Baker and Eric Clapton were members of British rock band Cream, known for songs like 'Crossroads' and 'Born Under a Bad Sign'. Eric Clapton (yes, *that* Eric Clapton) was part of the Yardbirds with Jimmy Page before he formed Led Zeppelin.

Spooky

Yeah...

Bad idea, Sam

And they let the dog in

That's horrifying

Poor girl

Well, he got it

Maybe

Ah, yes, the dog symbolism

Yummy

Unfortunately, I don't think so

Yikes

A muzzle?

Dang it, I was gonna say that

Fun

Maybe not hard to explain

Nice, Dean

Dean...

Yay!

Sounds like Crowley needs a competent assistant

"not Moose"

This is great

Oh boy

Of course not

Dean's over it

Yeah

His name is Kelvin?

Probably not

Wonderful

That might do it

Yeah, I guess

Amen

They're stupid

Huh. Slightly smarter than anticipated

Sounds like a plan

He's talking about the car

HE HAS EVERY RIGHT, OKAY

Wait oh my gosh you're saying that MY INCORRECT QUOTE IS REAL 😭😭😭

Nice, Crowley

Sure

This is really funny

Maybe

Jesus style

For who?

That's actually believable

A family that hates him? I don't know

He does not care

Yikes

Called it

He's weird

Dean in glasses you will always be famous to me <3

Yeah

Keep telling yourself that

He does that all the time

Same, Dean 😂

You don't have anything to be sorry about

Or maybe she does

Yeah

There's Marcus

Hunting

Aw, girl...

There she is

Aw, Baby!!!

Yikes

Oh boy

Nice, Sam

Ew

Knew it

Aw, cute

Hah, yeah

I think she'll be okay

Yay

What just happened?

How?

Maybe not that last bit

Yay...

Aw, Cas

Kinda

Frodo. Code for MoL?

Oh boy

They didn't do that, though!

Kind of right.

That's... true

Absolutely

Nice

[nepofm]

spotted      at      met      steps   , wearing      last      season’s      jimmy      choo     ?    i’d      leave      the      steps      in      the      next      24     hours   before      nepoupdates      catches      them      &     if      it      were      me     ,     i’d      definitely      go      back      to      the     checklist    of      golden      rules     .

james  castor   gavin  casalegno  ,  muse  t  ,  aleksander  wylie’s  childhood  bestie  wc

kiku   usui   sana  minatozaki  ,  muse  z

gavin casalegno.     he/him.     cis man.      ›spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   james   castor   ,   most   likely   listening   to   sunday   best   by   surfaces  with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty   five  gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be  -idiotic  yet   +softhearted   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you'll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   messy   blonde   curls   he   never   really   learned   how   to   tame,   a   new   dish   for   his   friends   to   try   every   thursday   night,   always   having   a   bottle   of   wine   open   and   glasses   ready   to   go,   a   loosely   fitting   silk   shirt   vs   a   crop   tshirt   you   can   take   from   his   cold   dead   fingers,   followed   by   le   labo’s   santal   33  .   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   how   he   always   seems   to   have   a   new   person   on   his   arms   and   they   can   never   tell   if   he's   dating   them   or   not  ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   .

sana   minatozaki.     she   /   her.     cis   woman.      ›spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   kiku   usui   ,   most   likely   listening   to   green   tea   &   honey   by   dane   amar   &   jereena   montemayor   with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty   -   six   gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be   -loud   yet   +selfless   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you'll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   the   cello   playing   an   extraordinary   classical   piece   in   the   center   stage   ,   pastel   colored   bows   tied   neatly   on   soft   dark   locks   in   a   neat   and   cute   way   ,   a   bite   of   frozen   chocolate   coated   strawberries   ,   liked   songs   playing   softly   on   their   airpods   as   she   flips   through   the   pages   for   an   hour   of   her   textbooks   ,   followed   by   love   eau   de   parfum   by   victoria’s   secret   .   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   musician   breaks   another   musician’s   hand   ,   causing   them   their   whole   career   just   because   they   stole   the   show   that’s   meant   to   be   theirs   ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   .

[sothisispeerpressure]

These are my unprompted ideas for Tweek and Craig centric episodes of South Park:

1. Tweek and Craig offer couples counseling to other kids at recess.

- would definitely be more of a subplot but I can totally see Stan going to them for help with Wendy

- imagine them both dressed up in button up shirts and little ties, and reading glasses, like therapists

- also had an idea where Stan goes to them because the asian girls decided to draw yaoi of him and Kyle, and he's asking them what he should do about it.

- "Here's the thing Stan. The Asian girls don't draw Yaoi of just anyone. The Asian girls observe, and draw couples, not to make you gay, but because...they can already tell that you are..." - Craig

- i just know it wouldn't ever be canon so maybe someone should write a fanfic or something

- just people going to Tweek and Craig for romance advice, even adults

2. Tweek and Craig get married

- The whole idea is that they're kids, and you know how kids will just randomly have fake weddings on the playground at recess? it's like that

- it starts at lunch, as per usual, Cartman, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Butters, Clyde, Tolkien, Jimmy, all sitting together, and Tweek and Craig just randomly walk up and invite them to their wedding

- it's very impromptu, it's literally happening right after the lunch period they're in currently, so everyone's a little surprised.

- so they all go outside and all the children gather around, Jimmy is the officiant (which, you can imagine how well that's going) Tweek and Craig are holding hands with everyone, and they're using RingPops as wedding rings.

- I think it would be really cool to make it kinda parallel to the Tweek vs. Craig season 3 episode ("so, what do we do?" "just smack each other around" "i've never been in a fight before" "awh ok postpone the fight so they can learn how to fight") ("so what do we do?" "you're supposed to kiss" "we've never actually kissed each other before" "awh ok postpone the wedding so they can learn how to kiss")

- "what about when we played super heroes and you guys' ultimate move was literally kissing" -stan

"it was pretend, we were faking." -Craig

- afterwards, the town gets wind of the wedding, and of course, since Tweek and Craig are the pride (no pun intended) of South Park, they decide that it should be more formal, they should wear suits and exchange proper vows and stuff

- meanwhile, Craig's friends are all sucking up to him to try and be the his best man, (they interrupt while Craig and Tweek are very awkwardly trying to learn how to kiss)

- this is an edit but i forgot to mention that Tweek is a total bridezilla and he's freaking out about every little detail

-eventually they actually hold a cute little wedding, not legal, just for funsies, and the whole town attends (Craig tells his friends that none of them can be his best man) They decorate the place with a bunch of Tweek x Craig yaoi art

-Craig has beautiful vows. "I never would've thought that the kid I'd have my first fight with on the playground, would turn out to be my future husband" "When the asian girls first started drawing yaoi of us, it felt like the worst week of my life, but now i think it's probably the best thing that's ever happened to me"

- Tweek's vows were also very well written, but due to nerves, all he could say was "WAAAAH"

- The whole town had a party, they ate cake and Clyde cried, Cartman probably slow danced with "Cupid Me"

- bonus idea, that Tweek's fucking parents come up to him during the reception and tell him that "now that you're married you're supposed to go on your honeymoon and consummate your marriage" because you know Tweek's dad is fucking horrid

- Tweek freaks out, Craig had a plan ahead of time for this and setup the most awesome sexless gamer heaven for their honeymoon

- they spend the next week and a half in Craig's room playing video games and hanging out together for their "honeymoon" and Tweek is finally able to recite his actual vows privately for craig

- and this is why in Post Covid they aren't legally married with rings, because they consider the little stupid wedding they planned as children to be their actual wedding

3. Bradley from S11 E2 (where Butter's goes to conversion therapy) moves to South Park (this one is probably the most developed idea)

- except that this time, he's not the same bible verse-reciting anxious kid from before, and he's completely confident in his sexuality now

- he immediately becomes friends with Butters again, who has to tell him that he's not actually bi (when Bradley immediately flirts with him), and tells him that "the only gay kids in south park are Tweek and Craig!"

- Bradley then takes a liking to Craig, and starts to hit on him, not knowing that Craig is taken, saying stuff about how "Mysterious" Craig is, and how that's attractive

- before Craig has the chance to tell him to fuck off, Tweek is already behind him, going off on Bradley telling him to "stay away from my Craig"

- Craig likes Tweek standing up for him, so he doesn't actually do anything to stop Tweek and may even sneakily instigate some of his anger just so he can watch his boyfriend fight for him

- subplot, Bradley actually moved into Stan's old house. This freaks Stan out because, as we all know, Stan hates living at Tegrity Farms, and now that his old house has sold, he feels there's no hope of him ever moving back in next to his best friends anymore.

- He turns to the only friend he knows who is crazy enough to drive someone out of town: Cartman.

- Stan and Cartman attempt to gather up more people who are interested in Getting rid of Bradley, but the only other person willing to help is Clyde. ("That Bradley kid said that Craig is the cutest boy in the school. That's not true because everyone knows that I'm the cutest! The girls said so!")

-Tweek is busy working on his own plans, and doesn't know that Stan and Cartman are planning anything

- Cut to a sleepover at Bebe's house, all the main girls are there talking about their crushes and boyfriends, and Wendy brings up how Stan is really concerned about "that Bradley kid" moving into his old house.

- pivot to Tweek, also at the girls' slumber party, hair pulled back with a headband with bunny ears and a mint colored face mask on. This man is fuming, twitching like he does and going off about how "i'm gonna fucking kill him"

- eventually there's a scene outside of Bradley's house, where Stan, Cartman and Clyde were all about to execute whatever plan they came up with to get rid of Bradley, but before they can start, an extremely violent Tweek is speed walking down the street clenching his jaw, with his trusty boxing gloves over his hands.

- Tweek beats the crap out of Bradley and Craig ends up having to break it up, deciding that he's let it go on long enough. Bradley's family does, in fact, move out of Stan's old house

if you have other ideas i'd love to know or I might post my non-creek centric episode ideas if this does well

[sweeterthanthis]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Summary: When Ransom takes you to the most expensive restaurant in Boston, he's not prepared to go without what he thinks he's owed. Even if you don't want to give it to him.

Warnings: NONCON, sexual violence, heavy knife play, mild blood play, humiliation, vaginal penetration, anal, anal creampie, forced orgasm, 18+.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is very dark. Please take the warnings seriously and scroll on by if it's not your cup of tea. I am not responsible for your media consumption. Thank you so much to @cockslut-padalecki for beta'ing this for me. I appreciate and love you! And big thanks to @msmarvelwrites and @river-soul for pre-reading and all your encouragement throughout. You're both incredible 🖤

‘How did I get myself into this mess?’

That thought had entered your mind a thousand times, from the second he insisted on ordering your drink for you. You don't even like red wine. But he  insisted. Just like he insisted on ordering you the salmon. Insisted on paying the bill. Insisted on sharing a cab home. Insisted on walking you to your doorstep. You didn't notice him wave the cab off into the night, and if you had, you’d have run inside as fast as your feet could carry you. 

You’ve been locked away in the bathroom for god knows how long, working your way through a panic, and desperately trying to figure out a way to get him out of here. Out of your house, and out of your life. 

Sure, Ransom is  gorgeous. When he’d first walked into the restaurant - twenty minutes late, of course - you were practically squirming in your seat. Bright, ocean blue eyes, chestnut hair perfectly coiffed and not a strand out of place, cheekbones that could cut glass. The man was a delight for the eyes, but it didn’t take you long to figure out that he was anything but sweet. 

He’s condescending, arrogant, spiteful, clearly spoiled rotten - and in a nutshell, the total opposite of anything you’re looking for in a potential romantic partner. You had considered, just for a moment, inviting him into your bed for the night. A one and done kind of thing. Just to test out that admittedly impressive physique. But the second he cupped the waitresses ass right in front of you, you knew that wasn’t going to happen either. 

“You’ve been in there an awfully long time, sweetheart.” His voice is muffled by the wood, the door handle jimmying as he tries to twist it free of the catch in the lock. Your hands are shaking, purse strewn across the couch, your cell phone completely out of reach. “C’mon, what are you doing in there? Didn’t even offer me a drink before you hid yourself away. Not a very good hostess, are you?” 

You clench your jaw, teeth gritted together as you ball your hands into fists; trying to rid yourself of the unbridled rage threatening to claw its way out. Nothing good will come of you losing it. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you let out a shaky breath - trying to find some semblance of calm amongst the chaos. 

“I-” your voice shaky, you grip the edge of the sink to ground yourself. “I would like you to leave. I’m not feeling well. Must have been something I ate. Maybe the salmon?” 

Silence falls upon you, and you release a breath you don’t  realise  you’ve been holding when you hear your front door slam shut a few moments later. Guess you were right about one thing. He really was an asshole. Sure, you aren’t  sick - but he doesn’t know that. He hadn’t  even bothered to ask you if you were okay, just upped and left. 

You splash some cool water on your face, brush the taste of bitter red wine from your teeth and tongue, and remove your makeup. You can’t help but huff a laugh at the thought of telling the girls at work just how fucking atrocious your date was. At least you have a funny story to tell. You’d be laughing about it soon enough, right? 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you pull the cord and turn off the light; locking the front door and hanging your keys up on the hook. You stifle a yawn as you make your way upstairs to your bedroom, pulling a sleep shirt from your dresser and tossing it onto the bed. 

You spy your reflection in the mirror, furrowing your brow and muttering to yourself, “Wasted yet another gorgeous dress on yet another asshole.” 

Reaching awkwardly to unzip yourself, you shrug out of the dress and throw it into the laundry hamper at the end of your bed. You’re about to shuffle out of your lacy panties when your eyes land on the contents of your makeup bag strewn across the floor, and your heart misses a beat because you could have sworn it was on your dressing table when you left. 

You look to the window to see if the heavy breeze knocked it over, but it’s closed; just like you know it would be. You shake your head from side to side, trying to rid yourself of all the silly thoughts flooding your brain. 

“Swear I’m going fucking crazy sometimes.” 

You sink to your knees with little to no grace, reaching for your mascara and your lipsticks, throwing them back into your cosmetic bag. You can’t shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something’s not right. You still your movements, sucking in a breath through your nostrils as you look around the room. 

Your heart stops in your chest, breath hitching in your throat when you see it. 

A camel coloured, woollen coat that you’d recognise anywhere, draped across the arm of the chaise lounge in the corner of your bedroom; and you freeze. 

You can’t move a muscle, tears pricking at your eyes. The realisation dawns on you, as if someone dumps a bucket of ice water on your head. 

He’s still here. 

“Anybody ever tell you you’re way too trusting?” His voice startles you, your body turning to face the doorway; Ransom’s large shadow illuminated by the light from the hall. His lecherous eyes wander over your body as you try to cover your modesty, standing on wobbly knees and reaching for the sleep shirt on your bed. “Oh, I wouldn’t bother with that if I were you. You won’t be needing it tonight.” 

“Yo-you need to leave,” you stutter, holding the shirt tight against your chest, your knuckles white from gripping the thin cotton material. Your gut twists when he smirks at you, one hand behind his back and the other resting on his hip. You find your voice again, a little sterner this time. “I don’t want you here. Leave or I’ll call the cops.” 

Ransom takes a stride forward as you take furtive little steps backwards, back digging into the dresser behind you. He cocks his head to the side, eyeing you from head to toe, and then back again. 

“Little lamb cornered by the wolf, huh? What did you expect, princess? I wined and dined your stubborn ass at the most expensive restaurant in Boston, and you think I’m gonna let you decide when the night’s over?” 

You’re shaking, teeth chattering together in fright as he looms closer to you; his body a few feet from yours, crystal blue eyes burning with an intensity that chills you to the bone. He reaches for the shirt in your grasp swiftly, ripping it from your fingers and throwing it back over his shoulder - your hands the only thing left to protect your modesty. 

“C’mon. Playing hard to get isn’t cute on you. Show me what I paid for.” 

Your eyes flit from left to right, brain whirring as you try to figure out a way to escape him. There’s no doubt in your mind what he intends to do to you, and the mere thought of it causes bile to rise and burn in your throat. 

“Go on. Try it,” he mocks, sensing your flight response rising to the surface. “Run. See how far you get. Maybe you’ll get a kick out of it. I knew you were into some kinky shit. Took it upon myself to have a little look-see through your bedside cabinet.” 

Heat rises in your cheeks as shame engulfs you, the thought of him prying into your collection of vibrators and toys making your nose scrunch up in disgust. The last thing you could ever want is for him to put his hands on you. 

You need to get the hell out. 

He’s too fast for you though, snatching you up in his arms the second you get close enough, your back pressed roughly against his chest as his arm wraps around your waist. You feel a cool chill at your jugular, your eyes flitting down to the shine of a blade and a sob emitting from your mouth, the tip of it digging into your throat just enough to break the first layer of skin. 

“You know, it’s a real shame it had to be this way,” he hums, breath hot against your ear as he walks you backwards a little. You want to struggle against his grasp, your mind screaming at you to act, to do something - anything. But the knife at your throat is enough to frighten you senseless. “I’m a real good fuck. Ask around, you’ll find that out. But you just had to go and make it difficult, didn’t you, princess?” 

“Please,” you whisper, fingernails digging into the cashmere sleeve of his sweater. “Please, don’t do this. You don’t have to do this.” 

He pulls the knife away from your neck just enough so his tongue can lathe at the crimson droplet seeping from the tiny wound; humming in satisfaction at the taste of your blood on his tongue. 

“If your pussy tastes as good as that, I might have to come back for seconds.” 

You’re shaking like a leaf, clinging to him to hold yourself up, his hips grinding against your ass - the prominent bulge beneath his trousers pressing into the crease of your behind. 

“Please, I don’t want this. P-please.” 

“Please, please,” he taunts, spinning you round in his hold to face him, the knife in his hand snaking beneath the lace front of your bra and slashing it open - your breasts falling free as he shoves you back against your bed. “You’ll be begging soon enough, but it won’t be for me to stop.” 

You lay there frozen, barely breathing as he pulls his sweater up over his head, his broad chest outlined in the shadow of the dim light. You must be staring, because he’s smirking again. Smirking at you as if you want this, as if you’re enjoying it. 

“You know how lucky you are that I even took you out for dinner tonight, princess? I can’t remember the last time I fucked a girl in a bed. We don’t usually make it out of the car before they’re dropping their panties for me.” 

Your eyes fix on the ceiling above you, arms resting against the mattress limply as you begin to accept it. It’s going to happen. He’s gone too far to stop now. His naked form is on top of you, forcing your thighs apart as he looms down over you. He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him as he runs the tip of the blade down over the valley of your breasts. 

“C’mon. Give me a smile,” he whispers, his mouth latching painfully onto your nipple as he sucks it between his teeth. You hiss, your legs flailing either side of his waist as you struggle. “I bet, if I slip my fingers inside that little lace number - you’ll be soaked.” 

You're crying, tears rolling down over your cheeks and onto the sheets below. You cringe when you feel the heavy thud of his cock against your lace covered core, closing your eyes and breathing in deep through your nostrils. 

"Shall we find out?" Ransom asks, but he doesn't want an answer. He's not going to give you a choice in the matter regardless of what you say. He sits back on his haunches, the flat of the blade making its way down over your stomach, dipping just beneath the waistband of your panties. "I'll make you a deal, princess. If you're not wet when I cut these panties off, I'll let you go."

You can't help but sob harshly, because you can already feel it. Your body betrays your mind, and heat spreads between your thighs, the dampness coating the gusset of your underwear. And he knows it, too. Can tell by the expression of shame on your features. 

You jolt up the bed when the chill of the blade drags across your inner thigh, slipping beneath the lace and resting against your heated core. You hate the way your pussy clenches at the sensation, cursing yourself inwardly as he chuckles. 

You feel the strain of material against your hips as he twists the blade, the serrated edge tearing through your underwear in one swift movement - leaving your cunt bare for his possessive stare. 

Ransom lifts the knife up in front of him, smirking at the sight of it, the flat edge glistening and slick from your juices. You want to vomit. You think you might when he lowers it to your lips, pressing it against them and stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb. A misplaced tenderness that you don't appreciate. 

"Looks like I was right, doesn't it?" He huffs proudly, nudging your bottom lip down with the tip of the knife. "Open up, princess. You can say you don't want it, but that pussy - oh, that pussy - she wants it."

His eyes are ferocious as you shy away, nuzzling your face into the mattress and refusing to follow his instruction. The slap of the blade on your cheek makes you cry out, dampness coating your cheek as he brings it back to your mouth. 

"Don't make it worse for yourself. Do as you're told, and I might even let you come tonight. Bet I could get one outta you in less than five minutes. Wanna make that bet? Didn't work out so well for you the last time, did it?"

"Now, stick your tongue out." You do it, hesitating a little when the tip of your tongue hits the metal - the salty sweet tang of your essence soaking into your tastebuds. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You flinch as he wipes the remainder of your slick against your cheek, the blade nicking your jawline on the way down, warmth rising to the surface as a droplet of blood trickles down to the hollow of your throat. 

"Now, can I put the fucking knife down? Been waiting all night to get my hands on this tight body."

You hesitate a little, nodding slowly and letting your tears of anguish flow freely. He tosses the knife onto the floor next to his clothes, trapping your body against the mattress with his as he forces his mouth onto yours. He kisses you with a ferocity that knocks you off kilter, his tongue forcing its way between your teeth. You fight the urge to bite down, his strength easily overpowering yours. You just want it to be over. 

"Next time I'll take my time, get to know what makes this body tick. But I think I've waited long enough to get inside that little cunt, don't you?"

Next time.

You swallow down the bile that gathers in the back of your throat, holding your breath when he reaches between your bodies and runs his fingers through your traitorously sloppy folds - pinching at your clit and making you shriek. 

"Absolutely fucking drenched. You act all demure and frigid, but deep down you're just a whore looking to get fucked." You can't hold back the whimper that escapes you when he rubs on your sensitive nub, tiny - strangely tender - circles causing you to pant. "That's it. Just enjoy it, princess. Behave, and I'll make it good for you."

You can feel that all familiar tingle rising to the surface, one hand gripping the sheets beside you and the other covering your mouth, almost as if you're trying to hold in your mewls. It's disgusting, he is disgusting - but you find yourself only a handful of strokes away from your orgasm. Ransom rips your hand away from your mouth, positioning your hands above your head and securing them both with one of his own. 

"No. I wanna hear those pretty noises. I deserve them." Ransom's ministrations quicken, your cunt clenching and releasing as you hold your breath and try to stave it off; but it's no use. "Oh, here it comes."

Your whole body jerks as you try to wriggle free of his grasp, your climax crashing over you and sending you dizzy, blood pounding in your ears and your cries ringing out in the air. Fresh tears fall at the realisation that he was right. How easy it was to send you hurtling over the edge. You're disgusted with yourself. 

"I'd hate to say I told you so, princess - actually no, that's a lie - I fucking told you so," he sneers, shoving your thighs apart once more and settling between them, your wrist aching from the force of his grip. "Now, be a good girl and beg for it."

"Fuck you," you snap, your suppressed rage bursting out of you as you spit in his face - your saliva rolling down his cheek. 

The blood drains from your face as he smirks and wipes it away with the back of his hand, reaching for your throat and squeezing roughly. He brings himself level with you, his eyes staring a hole through your skull as he seethes. "That was a mistake. I was gonna make it good for you, but now I'm just gonna take exactly what I want."

You're on your front before you know it, your body free of his weight as he leans back and reaches down over the edge of the bed. You try to scramble away when you see the knife in his hand, desperate sobs wracking your body when he grips your ankle and tugs you back towards him; his knees either side of your thighs as he presses his chest against your back. 

"Please!" you cry, shuddering as he drags the tip of the knife up over the curve of your spine. "Please, I'm begging you, you don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I do. Feel how hard you got me?" he purrs, slapping the heavy weight of his dick against the cleft of your ass. You wince and clench your thighs, but it's no use, the bulbous head prodding at your hole. "When's the last time you got fucked? Not that it matters. You've never been fucked like this."

"No!" you scream, his hefty girth splitting you open in one brutal thrust, pussy fluttering to try and accommodate him. He's huge and you're sobbing. "No, please no."

"Jesus fucking Christ, that's some good pussy," he grunts in your ear, the pressure from the knife nudging against the column of your throat. "Does it hurt, princess? I don't care."

You sigh with relief when he withdraws, but he soon punches the breath from your lungs when he fills you up again - his hips pounding against your ass, flesh rippling from the sheer force of it.

"You're gonna come all over my dick, and you're gonna say thank you. Got it?" he spits, punching into you mercilessly, fucking your frozen body into the mattress. You cry out when he applies more pressure to the blade, your pulse thrumming against the metal. "I said, got it?"

"Yes!" you howl, clinging to the comforter and bracing yourself for each violation of your soaked channel. 

You hate the way your cunt sucks him in, despise the way your knees tremble as he sets your nerve endings on fire. He can feel the way your body reacts to him, teases you with it, whispers filth over your shoulder that makes your gut twist. 

"You look so pretty when you cry, has anyone ever told you that? I think you're gonna come again." 

Every muscle in your body tenses up, his animalistic grunts vibrating against the nape of your neck at the feel of your walls clinging onto him. 

"Oh, you are. And then I'm gonna fill you up. I hope you're on birth control."

You are. Thank fucking God, you are. But the fact that he truly doesn't care makes your blood run cold. He's a fucking psychopath, and you just need to make it out of this alive. 

Ransom sets the knife down behind him, bicep curling around your throat and tugging your head back against his collarbone - devious eyes searing into yours, bloodshot and damp with tears. 

"You're a mess, look at you," he smirks, throwing his head back in pleasure when he punches against the deepest parts of you, balls slapping against the crease between your thighs. You close your eyes, try to take yourself somewhere peaceful in your head. Just want this to be over. "You can close your eyes, but your body is on fire for me, princess. I can feel it, and I know you can, too."

He's right. Your limbs are trembling, the sound of flesh smacking against flesh like static in your ears. You climb higher with each stroke of his throbbing cock against your swollen walls. 

"Oh!" you  gasp, his lips latching onto your shoulder and sucking a purple bruise into your dewy skin. You can't take it, so close to shattering that your body just takes over. "I-, fuck!"

"Thank me. Say thank you when you come on my dick. Remember who makes you feel this good. Say it."

Your eyes roll back, a garbled mess of words spilling from your lips and your head pounding. You're wrecked, pliable and fucked out beneath him - your ruined, abused cunt gripping him so fucking tight, you barely register the loss as he withdraws. Your brain is hazy, the blunt pressure of his cock pressing against your asshole making your eyes snap open in fright.

"N-ah!" you yelp, the crown of him punching through the tight ring of muscle, tip nestling inside as you tremble from the foreign intrusion. His hot, sticky spend splashes against your insides, sharp jerks of his hips sending shooting pains throughout your body.

"I said I was gonna fill you up. I didn't say where."

Ransom takes a minute, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling the scent of your coconut conditioner. It sickens you, the way he praises you as your body lays lifeless beneath him while he recovers from his climax. 

You barely move when he lifts himself off you, you don't even blink as the sound of his belt buckle clinking alerts you to the fact that he's redressing. Your mind is shot, your body is wrecked, and you choke out a sob when you feel his come ooze out and nestle between your pussy lips. 

"Thanks for the date," he leans down and kisses you on the cheek, and you recoil in disgust. "Next time you seduce me like that, you could at least buy me flowers first. Oh, and don't forget to lock up. There are some real assholes out there."

[alittlebirb]

Some humorous hubbub from the MCC 21 Purple Pandas:

-Sam admitting that he's never played with the MCC music on, and everyone immediately calling it criminal and bullying him into putting the music on right now

-"The music is like, 50% of what makes MCC good." -Scott

-HE'S NEVER HEARD THE INTRO MUSIC FOR THE EVENT BEFORE THIS IS TRAGIC

-Punz is so down for group photos

-Punz and Scott wearing matching panda socks

-"If it's a photo with you in it, it's gotta be good, Sam." -Scott

-Punz coming up with the exact same dog strategy as 5up did (vod reviewing sweats)

-"I need to relax, I'm getting too hyped up, my heart is going through the roof." -Punz

-Sam going up to the elevator zombie and saying in such a worried voice, "You lost the key, man!"

-Ponk is so excited it's so endearing ^^

-Scott immediately warning about Grian on this SG map, if you come across him just run away

-Sam and Scott saying they got edged by the music stopping -_-

-Sam and Ponk being shocked at being able to break glass, and Scott replying with just the most exasperated "Yes."

-Sam looking at a team, seeing it's Grian, and immediately turning right back around

-Sam getting up to the rocket practice area during the hub game, looking directly at the last dog, just??? not??? seeing it??? and moving on into a different area

-Scott calling the mega bunny "Cute! ^^" and Punz calling it "Creepy. >:("

-Scott planning out HITW strategies, Sam popping in that he's colorblind, then adding that it's fine though they can still see the HITW colors

"So you've given me a piece of information that doesn't change anything." -Scott

"Just wanted to make sure you knew, just that I'm the main character usually, you know?" -Sam

-Scott encouraging Punz to dunk either Wilbur or CPK in the decision dome in order to keep the 'weird dunk' meme alive

-Punz's computer literally bluescreening in GR and Ponk noting that "someone hasn't been cleaning their vents 👀"

-Punz rejoining the call and Scott updating him that "they [the players] are all calling you a tax evader now."

-Scott is personally offended that Sam has never heard how ✨ jazzy ✨ GR's music is

-Sam carrying the comms for the Saw Mill room in GR

-One of his teammates seeing Wilbur on a dog already and Scott just immediately knowing that it's his dogs Wilbur is harassing

-Purple may not have won the tournament but Sam definitely won in getting flowers from dogs

"The dogs love me." -Sam

-Sam saying confidently that they've never played RSR, and Punz pointing out that yes he did, it was his vod that they watched together

-Sam thanking Master Punz for improving his Rocket Spleef skills

-"Me and Ranboo committed a hate crime each, it was gay on gay crime." -Scott after he and Ranboo killed each other in RSR

-Sam asking if they think he has time to go to the gas station in six minutes, and Scott flatly replying "No."

"You have no faith in me." -Sam

-Scott and Sam teasing Punz for saying he's doing bad while he's literally in 8th

-"Keep the morale up, king. You look so handsome today." -Sam

"You look so hot." -Scott

-"I'm turning on my pretty privilege for the next four games." -Sam

-Punz being unable to pronounce KryticZeuz's name

"I'll just call him Zeus."

-Scott gleefully cheering on children fighting in SB

-Scott being momentarily granted The Gift Of Prophecy and predicting a BM skip this MCC

-"We go for the murder here. We have murder on our mind." -Sam

-Scott seeing that Jimmy has a dunk in the decision dome and immediately knowing that he's going to go after his team, even though Purple is in last

-Scott being called Sand Daddy by Punz and everyone treating that like it's normal

-Sam telling his chat that yes, he washed his hands after going to the bathroom, in the most exasperated voice

-Scott taking a while to get the word puzzle at the beginning, coming out of the room, and seeing the timer drop to 30 seconds left

"That doesn't sound good." -Punz

"It's fiiiine, nothing to worry about!" -Scott, sweating frantically

-Sam hyping himself up while beating up mobs in SOT

"Yes Sam, yes Sam, yes Sam!"

-Punz dying and Sam going noooo don't die king

-PONK GOING INTO THE RAVAGER PIT WITH NO FEAR AND SUCCEEDING AND MAKING IT LOOK SO EASY????

-Ponk was actually having a really good SOT before she died rip

-Scott trying to throw a tomato at Jimmy

-Flower Husbands are currently in their lover-to-enemies arc

-Sapnap spamming Sam before the last game begging him not to vote Buildmart

"Now that he said that, I kinda want to go for it just to mess with him." -Sam

-Sam giving constant excellent comms in PKT

"SAM'S COMMS ARE FUCKING HOT RIGHT NOW!" -Punz

"My comms are sexy right now." -Sam

"Honestly the best thing to happen each round would be if Sam dies first." -Scott

-Everyone in Purple is legitimately cracked in PKT...frog icons, the lot of them

-Everyone hyping up Ponk for doing so well as a runner and a hunter

-Scott once again considering the cost of postage when looking at the winning teams

-Scott asking Ponk to visit him in Brighton...he'll show them the sea 🌊

-"Bee boy is having a mental, I can tell." -Scott about Tubbo during DB

-Punz sarcastically asking if funnel aces actually count lol

-Punz forgetting how to say 'morale'

"That really got the...motive up, or something like that."

-Ponk missed TGTTOS this MCC (Yeah I bet you did you punching menace)

-Scott mentioned that SG will probably be benched the most out of all the games because it's the least unique to MCC

-"I will catch you ~handsome~ gentlemen later on!" -Scott

[your-nanas-house]

Why did yuo do that? Part 2

pairing: Jerome X Reader X Jeremiah; Jim Gordon X Reader

warnings: ???

words: 790

summary: Y/n is in hospital.

note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is part 2 of "why did you do that?".

.....................................................................................

The sound continued, steady and quiet, showing the heartbeats of the young woman who had recently awoken from her coma.

Thankfully just a few days had passed and Jeremy was safe and sound beside her, lying on the bed asleep; Y/n slowly moved her hand gently stroking his ginger locks realising they weren't alone, she looked up at Jim who was looking at Jeremy opening her mouth "thank you".

The man looked up quickly, smiling relieved "Y/n" she smiled back tiredly "Jimmy".

Jeremiah came in with some food, stopping to look at her "you're awake, how are you feeling? " he sat down offering her some food, ready to move Jeremy while Jim sighed smiling "we told him not to..." Y/n smiled looking at the small boy "don't worry leave him here, he's a little angel when he sleeps" she smiled looking at them.

It was half an hour later when Jim went to talk to a doctor leaving them alone in silence; Miah's gaze shifted when he heard her speak "thanks.... I know you probably hate us now that you're associating us with your brother but I wanted to tell you that I'm glad to have you here...it was unexpected but nice" she moved her hand over his, smiling softly with her eyes closed, not noticing the slight blush on the ginger's face who adjusted his glasses, squeezing her hand lightly "you're welcome" Y/n nodded sighing "I meant the things I said in the bunker, you have a brilliant mind, you could do great things and I hope we can become friends" the man nodded looking at her "we're friends".

Jeremy woke up slowly, yawning cutely as he shifted his gaze to Y/n smiling and giggling as he saw the young woman's finger touch his nose making a funny noise " MOMMY!" he smiled brightly "you slept so much! like the...sleeping beauty, you're beautiful as a princess too" she giggled mimicking his expression "really? "he nodded chuckling, resting his forehead against hers "nousy, nousy kiss" he moved his face and returned the eskimo kiss "I love you so much, mommy" Y/n smiled filling his face with kisses "I love you too, love" "from the moon and back?" "a lot more."

Jeremiah hinted a smile as he stood up murmuring "I'm going to go get everything and we can go...I thought you could stay at the bunker with me until they lock Jerome up" Y/n nodded watching him leave, smiling softly at Jeremy.

It wasn't long before the door opened again, closing slowly, but they didn't pay much attention to it as they continued to play the animal game that Jeremy loved so much.

The young woman imitated animal noises and tried to mimic them with her hands while looking amused at Jeremy's concentrated and fascinated expression as he guessed the animals and slapped her hand if he didn't like it or stroked it if he did like the animal.

He looked so much like Jerome in his attitudes and movements so theatrical and exaggerated but at the same time comical.

Y/n only looked up when she heard the click of the door lock clicking shut, finding herself looking straight into the deep eyes of what was the father of her child.

The two were silent for a few seconds, looking at each other, before the young woman broke the silence by opening her mouth "what are you doing here, Jerome?" the man said nothing as he walked over and sat down on the bed, meeting her y/e/c eyes again, allowing her to see for the first time a different glint in his eyes that looked like...sadness and regret.

It took a moment for Y/n to realize what he had said, it was as if everything around her was non-existent and she was in a black room with only Jerome in front of her.

She quickly shook her head to get out of the trance

"I'm sorry".

I'm sorry, one of the few phrases she had never heard the ginger say.

She felt his hand touch her which made her look up to look at him again "doll?" the young woman nodded, hinting at a slight smile "I know….don't do it again though, how could you think I would replace you so easily or kill our son?" the ginger nodded, returning to his usual smile as he stroked her thigh looking at Jeremy and her.

When Jeremiah managed to open the door of Y/n's room again, after calling a nurse, he entered to find the room completely empty, the bed unmade but without her or Jeremy, just a playing card with a Joker on it.

Taglist:

@gabile18

@mrsfullbuster500

@trainer--taylor

@elizamalfoyy

@eovjjj

[middleearthpixie]

Playing With Fire ~ Chapter Eight

Dunraven Pub - Modern AU

Summary: Thorin Durin likes his life just the way it is—his pub is successful, he’s happily playing the field when it comes to women. He wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. At least, not until he meets Leda Andrews, who stops to help him when his car dies on the side of the road.

Leda is new in town, and late for a job interview when she stops to help a guy with his broken down old car. The last thing she expected was for him to be the same guy who owns the pub where she’s applied to be a bartender, never mind to be one of the hottest men she’s ever seen.  

Sparks fly, and while Leda’s got a few ground rules that Thorin is more than willing to abide by, neither one of them expected their fling to turn into anything more serious, or that they would be faced with a situation neither one is prepared for. So, what happens when a no-strings-attached affair teeters on becoming the real thing… 

Summary: Leda and Thorin check out Thorin’s competition and Leda comes close to breaking another rule… 

Pairings:  Pairing: Modern!Thorin x OC Female

Characters:Thorin, Leda, Jimmy, Zana, Dwalin 

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,792

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @rangerofthewestt

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

The Dunraven was crowded for a Sunday but Leda figured that was because it was the New York Giants Opening Day and the televisions were all tuned to Fox Sports, which was televising it.

Leda leaned against the bar, peering over her shoulder as Jimmy yelled, “God damn it, Jones! Hold on to the fucking ball!”

“Easy, Jimmy,” she said as she turned back to him, shaking her head. “There’s other people in here.”

“Oh, right…” He looked from his left to his right and offered up sheepish smiles to the woman to his left and the two guys on his right. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? Don’t be sorry.” The woman shook her head. “You’re right. This guy is a joke.”

Jimmy turned back to Leda. “Huh… look at that. Can I get another Bud?”

“Sure.” She reached into the cooler to pull it out and popped the cap to pour it into a fresh glass. “I never would’ve taken you for a football fan, Jimmy.”

“Me? Oh, yeah. Did I ever tell you I scored a walk-on try out with the Jets?”

“What?” She set a napkin on the bar before him and the beer atop it. “Get out of here.”

He nodded. “Swear to God. I made the team, too. Safety. I was good.”

“Are you screwing with me, Jimmy?”

His dark eyes grew more serious than she’d seen in the short time she’d been there. “I am telling you God’s truth, Miss Leda. I got into a car wreck halfway through preseason and they cut me.”

“Oh, that sucks.” She leaned an elbow on the bar. “I’m so sorry, man.”

“Ah, it was a long time ago. I got over it.”

“Tell you what,” she said, tugging another bottle from the cooler, “this one’s on me.”

Jimmy’s eyes softened and he ran a hand through his spiky dark hair. “You serious?”

“I’m serious.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

His gaze met hers. “Hey, you want to go out sometime? I mean, I’d really like to take you out, if you—if you’d like to.”

“Oh, Jimmy…” She reached out to cover his hand with hers. “I’m sorry, but—”

A hint of a blush came along his sharp cheekbones. “Yeah, it was a long shot. Cute girl like you wouldn’t—”

Now it was her turn for her cheeks to grow warm. “No, it’s not that. I try to make it a rule to not date guys I see at work. It can get awkward if it doesn’t end well.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it could.”

Thorin came around the corner from his office and around to the bar. “You giving my bartender a hard time, Jimmy?”

“No, sir. I’m trying to get her to go out with me.”

Leda wondered if Jimmy saw the glint that came into Thorin’s eyes at that. “Oh, yeah?” Thorin replied, glancing at her. “What did you say?”

“She turned me down. Said she doesn’t date guys from work.”

Her belly actually flipped at Thorin’s slow smile, at the low growl of his voice as he said, “Yeah, it’s probably a good rule to have.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling and moved down the bar to a couple who’d just come in. She hadn’t expected Jimmy to ask her out, and that he did left her momentarily flustered, which didn't often happen to her. 

Thorin came up to lean against the bar alongside her. “Did he really ask you out?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He did. Did you know he almost was a Jet?”

“Yeah.” He glanced over her head down at Jimmy. “He wrapped his car around a tree, spent a month in the hospital and when he got out, team cut him. Damn shame. He was pretty good in high school, but never made it to college.”

“Is that why he—” she let her voice trail off as he nodded. “That’s a damn shame.”

“Yeah. One moment of shitty luck and everything changes.” Thorin sighed softly. “Hey, if you’ve got nothing going on after we close, want to hit Mandy’s with me? I want to see them for myself.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yes and no. I’m asking you if you want to go with me since you’ve been there before and you’re good company, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’ll see if Zane or Lacey wants to.”

She nodded. “I’m free, so if you want my company, it’s yours.”

“Good. I’ll meet you there after I finish up here.”

“Works for me.”

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly and by closing time, Leda was ready to just get away from the Dunraven. She looked forward to the next two days off, as she still had a bunch of boxes needing unpacking and her cable needed to be hooked up and all that. 

Zana came around from the bar, keys in hand. “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

She shook her head. “Wednesday. I’m off Tuesdays.”

“Okay. Enjoy your days off.”

“You, too.” She smiled as she lifted her helmet from the shelf on the bottom of the bar. When she straightened up, Zana and Lacey were gone. Dwalin was over by the pool tables, rehanging the cues.

She crossed over to him. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Take it easy, Leda.”

She bobbed her head and moved down the hallway to Thorin’s office, where she poked her head in. “You still planning on heading over to Mandy’s?”

He looked up from the stack of invoices h’d been thumbing through. “Yeah. I should be finished here in fifteen—twenty minutes or so.”

“What are you working on?” She came complete into his office, setting her helmet on his desk. 

“Just getting a few bills paid.”

“Are we in trouble?”

He set down his pen and his chair squeaked as he leaned back. “Revenue was down this month. Not by much, but after what you told me, I’d be an idiot if it didn't concern me.”

She skirted the edge of his desk and sank into the chair across from him. “How much is not much, if you don’t mind my asking?”

He met her gaze. “You don’t have to worry about it, Leda.”

“Thorin.”

“Really.” He tapped his pen against his thigh. “But, I should probably think about some kind of promotions. I don’t want to lose customers to a fucking poetry slam.”

She grinned. “You could always bring in live music, maybe pool or dart tournaments, things like that. There’s probably a lot of bands around here who’d be happy to play here, and those tables are always busy.”

“Yeah. I could ask around. Zana’s son would probably know.” The pen went still. “What else did you say they had?”

“Poetry. Open mike night. Live music, but I don’t know what kind.”

“Okay, let me finish up here and I’ll meet you there.” 

“I’m going to go home and change first.” She plucked her tee shirt away from her chest. “I don’t want to give away that I’m spying.”

“Ah, yeah, good idea. Okay, tell you what? I’ll swing by and pick you up instead.”

“Careful, Thorin,” she stood and scooped her helmet off the desk, “I might think it’s a real date.”

“I thought you said that was okay? In fact, I believe your words were, I like to have fun. You want to go out and catch a movie, shoot some pool, I’m cool with that.”

“Okay, yeah, you got me. A date is okay. What time you think you’ll be by?”

“Give me half an hour.”

“You got it.”

The dull thud of Thorin’s boots on the stairs outside her apartment sent a flutter through Leda’s belly that made her roll her eyes as she tried to ignore it. She waited for him to knock and when she opened the door, her mouth actually went dry at the sight of him.

Her mouth might have gone dry, but that wasn’t what happened to other parts of her. 

Still, who could blame her? He was just absolutely fucking gorgeous and she’d have to be blind to not appreciate it.  Never mind that he looked almost edible in a wheat colored henley and faded Levi’s, and he smiled as he said, “You ready?”

“I am.” She grabbed her wristlet from the coffee table and followed him down into the parking lot. His Mustang was still running. “Are you afraid to shut it off?”

“Yes and no. She gets temperamental when the weather gets cold and it’s getting a little chilly out, so I thought I’d just keep it warm for you, but also to make sure she’s still willing to run for me overall.” He moved around her to tug open the passenger door. 

She sank into the low slung seat. A hint of sage touched her nose and she smiled at the small air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. It had been a long time since she’d been in a sixty-seven Mustang and she’d forgotten how spacious they really were on the inside. 

The car’s interior was blue and white and spotless. The AC unit was mounted beneath the dash and looked almost big enough to cool a room instead of a car’s interior. The gearshift knob was wood, as were the accents on the dash itself, and he’d had a satellite radio installed, tuned to Ozzy’s Boneyard, and she smiled at the guitar solo from Iron Maiden’s Wasted Years playing softly. 

He came around to sink into the driver’s seat as she fastened the lap belt about her hips. The interior light went off as he closed the door. “I promise you, it won’t break down. At least,” he amended, “it shouldn’t.”

“Well, talk nicely to it because I really don’t want to have to walk home from the other side of town.”

“Mandy’s isn’t too from my place. If worse came to worst, you could come home with me.”

“And we could have a sleepover?”

He winked as he shifted into reverse. “I thought you weren’t into spending the night with anyone.”

“Well. I’m not into middle of the night booty calls, either, and yet, I broke that rule. What’s one more if the circumstances are right?” She winked back.

“Careful,” he warned as he angled out of the parking lot, shifting into first, and pulled out on Main Street, “I might think you want to be more than fuck buddies.”

“Hardly. I’m not looking for anything more than that.”

“Good. Me, neither.”

She glanced down at his hand, resting casually over the wooden gearshift knob. He had beautiful hands, really. Absolutely beautiful. And skilled. And gentle. And—

She straightened. Easy, Leda. Don’t get carried away.

“So, how was your niece’s birthday dinner?”

“It went well. A little too much family, but Moira liked her gift, so thank you very much.” He looked over at her and smiled. “And her father only freaked out a little.”

“Good. I was glad to help.” 

He shifted into second. For a fifty-five year old car, the Mustang ran fairly smoothly. “How long have you had this?”

“The car?” Thorin glance over at her again. “Twenty years. Most of the numbers match, but I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t give a damn any more. I’ve been thinking about taking it off the road for a while and getting something a bit more… recent. Recent and reliable. I’m getting too old to worry about it dying and stranding me somewhere. What about you? You own the bike?”

She nodded. “I love my Harley and you can have it when you pry it from my cold, dead hands. I lived down at the short for the last ten years and so much is in walking distance, I never needed a car. But,” she looked out at the store fronts as they rolled past them, “I might have to take the plunge if I’m staying here for any length of time. The closest grocery store six blocks away and I’ll go broke having everything delivered.”

“We’ll car shop together. You know what to look for and I’ll keep them from fucking you over.”

“Thorin, a salesman would wet his pants at the sight of you.” She looked over at him. The streetlights glinted off the silver cube at the end of the braid at his right temple. “Why do you wear those?”

“Wear what?”

“Your braids.” She reached out to catch said braid. “What is this at the end?”

“That? It’s a rune. It says Irak-‘adad.”

The rune looked to be crafted of silver, and like his tattoo, the words didn't look like words at all. “What does that mean?”

“It means uncle. Fíli wove it in when he was just a little boy.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Remember I told you about where my family is from?”

“The land far, far away.”

“Right. The language we speak is called khuzdul. And that’s what this is, what my ink is. There aren’t a lot of us who still speak or read it, but we’re trying to keep it alive, trying to keep our customs alive as well. And one of those customs is braiding.”

“Where is this land far, far away?”

He hit the turn signal make a right and as he did, an orange light recessed into the hood flicked as well. As he angle into Mandy’s lot, he said, “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It looks beautiful and impossible to read, so I’m impressed that you can.”

He chuckled, easing the Mustang into a slot, shifted into neutral, and reached under the dashboard to grip the emergency brake handle and tugged it out. Then, he turned to her. “I’m from a place called Erebor and as I said, it no longer exists, but was conquered by a neighboring country.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Few people in the West have. It was a small, inconsequential municipality and only a few of us made it out. And here we are. Me, my family. Dwalin, Nori, Dori, and a few others. We are all that’s left of a once-proud race of people.”

“Oh, that’s awful, though.”

He shrugged. “We survived and that’s what matters and now, let’s go in and see if I’m about to start hosting fucking poetry nights at my pub.”

She wanted to ask him about his braids, to find out the custom behind them, but he didn’t give her the chance as he tugged the keys from the ignition, shoved open his door, and climbed out of the car. 

Her door creaked softly as she did the same and as she pushed it shut, he came around to her side. “Lead the way, Ms Andrews.”

As they neared the front door, she stopped, snapping her fingers. “Fuck, I forgot. We need a reservation if we want a table.”

“We can just sit at the bar. Unless you prefer a table.”

“No, bar’s fine with me.”

“Then lead on.”

She held the door for him, only to have him reach over her head to take hold of it. “Thorin.”

“Just go.”

With a sigh, she passed through the doorway and into the bar. It was no warmer or more welcoming than it was the other night, and the people already at the bar looked up, eyes widening at the sight of them and several of the women at the far end of the bar did a double take, which made Leda grin.

She sank onto a black leather and chrome barstool. “I think they’re checking you out, Mr. Durin.”

He glanced at the women in question, then leaned over to whisper back, “I think I’ll stay right here.”

“Well, since you’re my ride home, I appreciate it.”

He smiled down at her and to her surprise, leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of her head. 

“What was that for?”

He shrugged as the bartender approached. “I felt like it.”

“What can I get you folks?”

Thorin looked up at the mirror mounted on the wall between the shelves of liquor, where the beers on tap and drink specials were scrawled in elegant hot pink ink. “Do you have Blanton’s bourbon?”

The bartender shook his head. “No, we don’t, I’m afraid.”

“What abut Bulleit?”

He nodded. “That we have, sir.”

“I’ll take a Bulleit Manhattan.” 

“And for you, miss?”

Leda looked over the drink specials. She didn’t want a beer, like the last time, but also didn't know what she was in the mood for. “Actually, that sounds good. I’ll have the same.”

“Of course.” 

As the bartender moved down to make their drinks, Thorin said, “I never would’ve taken you for a bourbon drinker.”

“I’m not, really. But I don’t know what else I feel like, so… a Manhattan it is, I guess.”

“What’s your go to usually?”

“I like a good girly martini, but they’ve given them such stupid names here that I can’t see me asking for one. A Mandytini? Really? Just call it what it is—a clementine martini.”

“You don’t like the cutesy names?”

“Oh, dear god, no. They’re so stupid. Just tell me what kind of martini it is. It doesn’t need a cute name. That doesn’t make it taste any better. It’s just an excuse for them to charge more for it.”

The bartender returned with their drinks and Thorin held his up. “To spying, I guess.”

She winked. “To spying.”

“And maybe a little something more later.”

She held his gaze. “Are you going to try to get me drunk, Mr. Durin?”

“Why would I do that? I don’t sleep with drunk women. Besides, I want you to remember a night with me.”

“As if anyone is going to forget that,” she told him with a laugh. “Trust me, Thorin, no woman alive will forget sleeping with you.”

His smile grew almost feral. He brought the rocks glass to his lips, saying, “Told you I was amazing in bed, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. All guys think that.”

“Yeah, but in my case, it’s the truth.” He winked and took a slow drink. Then, lowering the glass, he leaned close once more to ask, “Am I having a nightmare or is this live music a fucking jazz band?”

“It’s a jazz band.”

“I am not hiring jazz bands.”

“Oh, thank the gods.”

He set the glass down and spun about on his stool to take in their surroundings and she did the same. The lighting was soft, but cool, and the black and silver theme played out from the taproom toward the dining room in the back. The waitstaff wore all black.

Jazz music threatened to put her to sleep.

She set down her empty glass and Thorin said, “You want another or do you just want to go?”

“You haven’t finished your drink yet.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you want to go, we can.”

“This place makes me so uncomfortable. It’s so… sterile looking.”

“All the chrome it hurting my eyes.” He grinned and signaled for the bartender. “We’re going to cash out.”

“Okay. That’ll be twenty-five even.”

Thorin tugged his wallet out and as Leda unzipped her wristlet, he said, “I’ve got it. Put your money away.”

“Thorin.”

“What?” He handed over a platinum Amex card. “Put it away. I said, I’ve got it.”

She tugged a five from her wallet and set it on the bar. “At least let me get the tip, then.”

“Fine.” He winked as the bartender brought back the card and bill. Thorin signed it, took his copy, and tucked both back into his wallet, then eased down from the stool. “Do you want to check any other places out?”

“I’ve only been to a couple and this one seems like the biggest threat.” She eased off her soon as well and teasingly nudged him with her elbow. “Maybe you should bring in a couple of beatnik poets and see what happens.”

“My customers would revolt, that’s what would happen.”

“Ah, you never know. Might bring in some of those Lexus owners.”

“Maybe,” his hand came to rest at the small of her back, “but I like the ones I have now. I don’t give a damn what kind of car they drive.”

Heat from those fingers against her back sank into her. That heat swirled thorough her slowly,    and when they pressed into her, she almost shivered. Damn, she couldn’t remember the last time a man had this powerful an effect on her, but every touch was almost a rush for her. 

They stepped out into the cool night. A hint of dampness hung in the air and Leda looked up to see the thickening clouds blotting out the moon and stars. Leaves rustled over head as they reached his Mustang and she leaned up against the fender. “So, what did you think?”

“I think I could have trouble,” he said softly, moving to stand before her. “So, I guess I start looking into some new things for the Dunraven. I’d hate to have my ass kicked by this sterile wannabe bar.”

“So, want to check out any others?”

His eyes glinted in the light cast from overhead and her mouth went dry as his hands came to rest on her hips and he stepped closer still. “I think there’s something else I’d rather be doing instead.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

He bent to her, his lips coming softly against hers. His fingers tightened against her, drew her into contact with him. She smiled against those lips, easing her arms about his neck. She let her fingers brush the back of it, stretched them up into his hair, which was soft and cool against her skin. 

She parted her lips, her back bowing slightly at the silken glide of his tongue against hers. He pulled her closer still, tugged her flush again him and she shivered at the solid ridge of his erection as he rose to meet her. His hands slid around to her back, slipping beneath her pale gray light sweater to skim along her back. Just the brush of his fingertips against her was enough to start the slow melt inside her, was enough to make her nipples tighten and to bring a hint of dampness between her thighs. 

He kissed his way over her chin, and down along her neck and as her head did a slow spin, she whispered, “Right here?”

“Back seat is big enough for two.”

“Thorin!”

He drew back, a wicked smile at his lips. “Come back to my place and let’s see what trouble we can scare up.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Fifteen Part One

Table of Contents 

Word Count: 4.6k

It’s Gwen’s birthday! Just a cute little chapter before Bron Yr Aur. Enjoy...

-

My eyes open and I am greeted with the sight of the boathouse, the place I have been staying for the last four months. I have come to know it as home. My apartment stays cold and desolate, a place I do not wish to stay. Although it was ultimately nicer and prettier, cleanlier too, I like to stay here because it reminds me of him.

I turned over in the nest of the bed we built and see him. He was smiling already, cheeks red, and sent me a silent wish with his eyes. They were twinkling and bright.

"Good morning, my love." His face was pressed against my chest, sweet and child-like I gave him a giggle as he looked up at me with his drooping eyes, laden with thick sleep. He looked like he had a good rest, one he needed desperately.

He was home for just a short time. Soon he'd be off to Bron Yr Aur. He'd been home for a week now and I was enjoying our quiet bliss. I didn't think I would have been so relieved to see him, but I was.   "Good morning, my little Jimmy." "Happy birthday!" "Thank you." I bloomed like the flowers outside our windows. The Spring air was in full effect, Summer on its way. A thin melon-slice smile played on my face. Today would be a good day. It would be the first good birthday I'd had in many years. I knew this because he assured me and I had no reason to not believe him. "Do we have any plans for today?" "As you've requested, it shall be just us for most of the day. But the guys wanted to stop by to see you for a little bit and wish you a happy birthday." "Awe, that's so sweet!"

I played with a loose thread on our sheets. The sun was coming in from around the edge of our drawn curtains, painting shapes on the carpet.   "I am going to give you your first of many presents today." He reached over to the side table and produced a joint. It wasn't wrapped very neatly, so I could tell it was done by him. Robert had better rolling skills than either of us. "Oh, thank you!" I took it from his hands and admired his poor craftsmanship. It was sweet that he tried.

We shared the joint, passing it back and forth until there was nothing but a smoking stub left. He pressed the remainder into an ashtray that was perched on his bedside table. It was a marvelous way to start my birthday. When the ashtray was firmly tucked away on the bedside table, next to the tiffany lamp, he turned to me and spoke, "Now we have breakfast." "You've prepared breakfast?" "Of course. It's on the table, all ready for us." His smile was sweet and rested comfortably on his face. "Well, we better make sure Lucy doesn't gobble it all up before we get down there."

We made for the stairs. We walked together, his steps trailing behind me, and soon reached the bottom of the steps. When we got down to the kitchen the meal was pristine and untouched. Lucy sat on one of the white chairs, her front paws on the edge of the table, creeping her way onto the cloth.

She was quick, but not quick enough. I scooped her up before she could snatch anything up.  

"When it's your birthday, we'll make you breakfast. Not today though." I held her in my arms long enough for her to start purring. The rumbling radiating from her body was sweet and made my heart swell. I placed her on the ground and sat at the table, ready to eat. "This all looks so good!" He made a wonderful spread of all my favorites. Waffles topped with whipped cream and fruit, eggs, a breakfast sausage I did not know the name of, and fruit juice. It was plated nicely with chocolate syrup on the side for my waffles and flowers placed in the middle of the table in a vase. He told me they were for me.

The arrangement was beautiful. Blooms of purple, yellow, and pink were spread evenly in the glass vase. I tapped my fingers against the sturdy container, listening to the twinkling sound it produced.   The herb was working its way through my system to full effect, causing me to devour my plate. I was gluttonous and greedy on my special day. I didn't care for table manners. I sang in pleasure as I ate. The fruit was so sweet and soft, tasting as if it were a perfect Summer day in July. I was curious how he got berries that tasted so delightfully. They couldn't have been normal fruits, they must've been picked from wavering trees in the backyards of gods older than the sun. I thought maybe he had gathered them himself, fighting through millennia of carnage to retrieve the fruit. What could he have encountered on this journey for my breakfast? Perhaps ancient and sentient beings much larger than him, things unfathomable by the human mind. I thought of him moving through space and time to join me here, with his great gifts. He returned at just the right hour to celebrate my birthday, bringing with him wonderful news and of course, the magical berries. Forever the memory of the sugary delights would stain my tongue. I fear the magic of fruit would be tainted, no Summery gift being as wonderful as this one. I pushed that thought aside and ate my eggs and sausage. "So, how was it?" He asked when I was finished.

"It was great, thank you. Just what I needed." I said as I sat my fork down. I was full and longed for a nap.

He stood from the table and collected our plates, planting a kiss on the crown of my head as he went.

-   After breakfast was finished and our plates were clean we sat back at the table to read. He was reading A Sicilian Romance by Ann Radcliffe. It was gothic horror, combining psychological terror and poetry to create a chilling tale of death and betrayal. It seemed to be Jimmy's kind of book, a real page-turner. It was published in 1790, as old as he seemed to be. I was not too fond of reading novels as I found my attention span hard to suspend. But this book I had was special. I was reading I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, a recently published autobiography, written by a new writer named Maya Angelou. She was a black woman from San Fransisco who had a penchant for storytelling. I found the book excellent so far. Ross, a dear photographer friend from California, had given it to me as an early gift. I received it in the mail just two days ago. The kitchen was quiet as we sat in chairs next to each other, our knees pressed close together. The sun was shining expertly, the only way it knew how to, and illuminated our books. I could hear the occasional turning of a page from Jimmy and the waves down below the boathouse. I was filled with an aura of peace, perhaps tranquility. I had never known such a sweet silence. Lucy joined us, starting first by wrapping her soft body around our legs and then jumping up on the table. She took a seat in front of me and began chattering to get my attention. When I only gave her a passing glance and a pat on the head she turned to Jimmy. She sat in front of him and started chattering once more. She was a loud cat, often alerting me to her presence when I got home from work. My day was never complete unless I heard her cries for attention from the next room. He laughed and sat his book down, placing a mark on his page, then picked her up. He held her like the baby she was and scratched her under her chin. She threw her head back in simple pleasure, the kind only a cat could experience. We smiled at her cuteness, fawning over the creature was saw as our child. She really was, so desperate for our love and always hungry, just like a baby. I feared her toddler years of destruction and energy. "So cute," He murmured as he set her back on the table. She jumped down, contented with the love she had received and went back to wherever she wanted to be. We returned to our reading and remained that way for almost another hour. When I finally grew tired of reading I sat my book down and yawned, leaning my head on his shoulder. He mirrored my actions and sat his book down, turning his attention to me. "Robert and Jonesy should be here soon." "Can we put on some music and prepare the tea?" "I've trained you so well. I can hear the accent coming in already." He wiped nonexistent tears from his eyes and feigned a sob. "It's fookin' tea time!" I belted, slamming my hands onto the kitchen table.

He did not find my impression humorous. But I threw my head back and cackled, tickled by my own joke. He simply rolled his eyes and walked to the other side of the kitchen. "Oh, c'mon, it's my birthday, give me a break! I can't help that I wasn't born into this feeble nation." "I'll let that one slide since it is your birthday," he turned to me, hand still on the cupboard, "but I'm getting sick of your cheeky impressions." He ended with a toothy smile. I grinned back, barring my teeth the same as he. Robert and Jonesy did come by soon enough. I was a little embarrassed that they had brought me gifts, no matter how small. When they presented their boxes I covered my face and laughed into my hands. Robert told me not to be so meek, prodding at me until I dropped my barricades. He had given me a simple present, a bag of magical herb wrapped in a pretty package. It was tied with a curly red ribbon. Jonesy was less dissolute than the singer, opting instead to gift me with a book. It was a collection of poems by Emily Dickinson, a portly, pink volume of her completed works. I hugged them both and thanked them repeatedly, delivering kisses to their faces. I felt like someone's garish aunt, delivering sloppy smooches in a tight grip.

I hadn't read much Emily Dickinson. I was pleasantly surprised with the large edition, it must have been expensive! The binding was thick and the ink was regal. I brushed my fingers over the golden imprint on the cover, which sported the title and author. It was the nicest poetry book I'd owned. The guys must be making good money from Zeppelin with these gifts. Robert gave me a half, I can't imagine how much that cost!

I thanked them both a thousand times and rambled on and on about how much I loved their gifts. I must've sounded silly. They just laughed and shook their heads, telling me it was no trouble. I wondered where Bonzo was, but I chalked it up to us not knowing each other as well as the others. I took to Robert and Jonesy immediately and the friendship just stuck. What can I say? We were compatible! They didn't stay too long after they finished their tea. They said their goodbyes and took their voices and mirth with them. I was left in the living room with Lucy while Jimmy gathered the tea tray and took our discarded dishes to the sink. I absentmindedly pet her while I thought about how I'd spent this day in the past. One year stood out in particular. On my 14th trip around the sun, my first with my father's new family, I was still very scared of the new home I inhabited. It was not memorable for the lack of events or being misremembered. I had a party, and that was the issue. My step-mother treated it as a celebration of Summer, a time I just so happened to be born in. My cake, which I didn't eat because she chose vanilla knowing I hated it, didn't even have my name on it. I remember the feeling of sadness that filled me. I thought having a real party was going to be wonderful. I'd never had one, after all, unless you count the nights of my mother stumbling in late at night coming home from a party, smelling like alcohol. But even the downcast glances and displaced cheer were much better than spending my day alone wiping away tears. The day wouldn't have been too special to any other child, just another birthday spent by the pool if it hadn't been my first one with this new family I was forced into. I remember feeling so small and scared, so tempted to hide in my bed and shut the world out.

My step-mom was always so spiteful about me. I suppose being forced to raise a thirteen-year-old that was a long-harbored secret was not a pleasant ordeal, even if you could afford it. There were times that I had wished my mother would've just kept me, even if that meant I was left on my own often and with very little money. I thought, sometimes, that it would've been better than feeling like a floundering fish hoisted onto the scorched deck.  

This was a similar feeling to my first birthday with my first love, Dominic. He wasn't one for big displays of affection but my birthday was a different story. He had thrown me a party which was quiet and elegant. He was not the type to throw a raging drug fest, unlike many of the parties happening in the early '60s. It was more of a cocktail party complete with formal wear and champagne. I felt saliant having such a fancy party thrown in my honor.

He invited the few friends I'd made during my first year at Berkely and some of his. I didn't like his friends too much, they were all snobby and intellectual, something they could tell I wasn't. I never felt quite good enough for Dom, and his friends were part of the reason.

My friends were the opposite. Carolyn, nicknamed Care, was an art major and a known socialite. I felt lucky to be so close to her. She'd taken me under her wing, one could say. She helped me slip into a friend group with people like Frankie, short for Francesca, and Liz, obviously short for Elizabeth. They were also art students but focused more on pottery and sculpture. They were kind to me from day one. I still miss them sometimes.

I found it hard to make friends with the people in my department. The psychology majors were largely male and horribly white. They were entirely obsessed with Freud's approach to academia, making it inacesseabile to the undereducated and non-white, which ironically made up most of the country. I suppose Dominic saw the disinterest in me for this line of thought and that's what attracted him. He was into all of that pan-Africanism and returning to the mother country stuff. It all sounds like a crusade to me now, a noble one, but a crusade nonetheless. As the night wained on he brought out a large white cake. It said "Happy Birthday Guinevere" in purple frosted lettering. After I blew my candles out he swiped a thick glob of frosting off the cake and dotted it on my nose. I giggled and wiped it off with the sleeve of my cardigan.

At that moment someone took a flash photo of us. It was taken on my polaroid camera but I never saw the photo. I felt like we were getting married. I was a beautiful bride on my birthday and he was a terribly dressed groom. I wonder where that photo ended up. I imagined it sitting in a shoebox in someone's attic or a landfill. I hoped for the former. I laughed at this memory. Never did I think I would have a day like this, spent basking in the warmth of someone I truly cared for. We gave equally, I got back what I put in. I'd never had that.

The memories of my first birthdays were lined up now, at Dad's, with Dom, and now with Jimmy. Of course, this day was the best I'd had, spending it with someone I felt truly understood and accepted me, but I couldn't help compare it to the first one at Dad's. It wasn't great, as I've already mentioned, but a wonderful thing happened to me that day. My step-mom, even through her cruelty, and dare I say wickedness, had gotten me my first camera that day.

I remember pulling it out of the box and being amazed. I had never really interacted with a camera of that quality. Mom only ever had enough money to pay the bills, buy food, and party away what was left, so I never got new things. I never got nice birthday presents, and we definitely didn't waste time pining after luxuries such as cameras or televisions. I had a record player, a tape recorder, and a library pass to fill my time.  

I took hundreds of photos that Summer. Sophia, my step-mom, was not happy with the six rolls of film I devoured in one month, but I didn't care. I had a new lease on life, it seemed. I had a purpose. As long as I had that camera, I had a reason to get out of the house and talk to people. It was my way of sinking my teeth into the outer world around me, a way to escape from my head and drab room. I would ask people walking down the street if they could pose, I would ask them about their day and what they were up to and snap two or three photos in the process. It was my first introduction to the art of photography. And it was all me.

Out in that bustling town in California is where I attempted and perfected the techniques I still use today. I could loosen up strangers into telling me their business and posing for me. I learned very quickly how to get people to open up. Most people don't like having their photos taken, but they love to talk about themselves. So I combined the two and the result was lovely! "You ready for your gifts?" Jimmy asked, bringing me back to the present day. The memories faded. The faces of strangers and the lilting voice of an angry Sophia Banks washed away. She shouted something about "wasting money and film on people you don't even know" as she went. He had already brought out three boxes. I buried my face in my hands once more.

"Oh, don't do that, this is your special day. I want you to be happy." The boxes were stacked in his hands, resting innocently as I grinned.

"I know. I've just never had someone make me feel this special before." My face was hot and red. "Well I'm your boyfriend and I want to make you feel special on your special day." He sat next to me on the couch and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I was glowing at his insistence on our relationship.

"Say that one more time." I insisted.

"What? Boyfriend?" He smirked, looking at me from the corners of his almond eyes. They were glistening with vitality even from the side.

"Yeah."

"I'm your boyfriend."

I scrunched my nose and giggled. He was, wasn't he? My very own. Just mine.

"Go on, open 'em up!" He cried, watching over me as I picked up the first box. I unwrapped it with care, trying my best not to seem eager. I was pleased as punch when I finally pried the top of the gift box off.

Inside was a pair of white loafers with a heart on the back of each shoe. They were sturdy and well made, maybe the best pair of shoes I'd ever had the pleasure of holding. I slipped them on and they fit perfectly. Once again, I felt overwhelm by the simplicity of his care. It wasn't a grand display of cheerful romance but it wasn't underplayed either. It was small but incredibly wonderful.

"These are nice. I've never had shoes this nice. Wow! Thank you." I sat back down and hugged him. I had opened one gift and I was already wrought with emotion. I felt like crying. The second box was smaller and wrapped in turquoise foil. "These are wrapped very nicely. Lovely paper." I commented. He smiled a toothy grin and told me he'd done them himself. He was much better at gift-wrapping than joint rolling.

Inside the box was a beautiful ring. It was gold-banded with a glittering green stone. I slipped it on immediately. It fit on my middle finger snugly.

"Oh my god, you are like the best gift-giver!" "Go on, open the last one."

The final gift was my favorite. It was a painting, a messy landscape of the Thames. There was a scene with a picnic blanket on which two figures were seated. One had flowing red hair and the other had curly black locks. The dark-haired person was playing guitar and the other was listening intently. It was our first date.

"This is beautiful. Jimmy, you're gonna make me cry." I put my face back into my hands and leaned into his shoulder. He was a pillar of mushy emotion. I could practically see the pink love hearts bubbling around us. "I did that myself." He was proud with a smile resting on his face. "You made this? Oh my god, I'm really gonna cry." I put the painting aside and buried my head in his chest. I couldn't keep the tears from coming. After a few escaped the floodgates had opened. I kept my face in his chest for a few minutes, wetting his shirt with my well of flowing emotion. He pets my hair and rocked me side to side, letting me enjoy a peaceful moment where I felt loved. "This is the best birthday I've ever had." I wiped the tears from my face and laughed. I laughed so I wouldn't cry again. I didn't expect such a visceral reaction, but I also didn't expect such lovely gifts. It wasn't the idea of money spent or the gesture of gift-giving, it was the time allotted to the careful search and execution of each present that made emotion well within me. "I'm glad I could make it so good for you. You made my birthday wonderful and I was returning the favor. You're such a lovely person, you deserve it." "I couldn't ask for someone better."

-

He made dinner for us that night. It was a nice spread of pasta and homemade garlic bread, another one of my favorites. It was the same meal he made for our first date. I don't know if that was on purpose, but I loved it either way. Lucy joined us for this meal as well. She cried for attention the whole time we ate. This chorus was a wonderful soundtrack for my birthday meal.

Because he let me pick our activities, we were going on a walk after dinner. I decided a walk would help our food digest and tire me out before bed. The streets of Pangbourne were illuminated wonderfully by the moon and the temperature was nice. It was the perfect night for a stroll.

I allowed Lucy to come with us as well. I had to hold her but it was worth it. She loved going outside. I held her under my arm as we walked, keeping her tight in my grasp even when she squirmed around. I have taken her on walks before but she had a leash then. It was at my apartment with the rest of her things.

"You're so peculiar with that cat. A real witch."

"I think it would be better if she had black fur." I retorted.

"Nonsense! She's perfect just the way she is." He feigned open-mouthed offense.

"Oh, yes, yes, that's true. But I meant I would be more witchy."

"Don't let her hear you. She'll curse you." He covered her little ears. She squirmed again, trying to wriggle herself free from our hands.

"I don't think cats can do that."

"I don't want to find out." His tone was dramatic and he shook his head. He was always acting silly like this, making me laugh.

The smell of a campfire was thick in the air. I imagined a group of people surrounding the glowing pit, a circle of friends and relatives. I hoped it was a time of serenity and memory-making. I was in such high spirits that I wanted to spread that joy, even on a molecular level.

We walked along for a little while longer, just enough time to be refilled by the sweet blowing wind and gaze at the moon. We had gotten our fill of fresh air and made our way back to the house. I wore my new shoes, which were already giving me a blister. I would have to break them in before wearing them out of the house again. They were so lovely that I didn't mind.

It was time for cake now. He was in front of me and it was the most unusual cake I'd ever seen. It didn't have candles, instead incense sticks stuck out of the top. I furrowed my brow and looked at him from across the table.

"Did you not have any candles?"  

"No. Now blow them out before the ash drops into the icing."

"There should be twenty-six sticks."

"I didn't have that many."

I couldn't blow them out, obviously, so I just lifted them out of the cake. I sat them aside and made a wish in my head. The wish was for happiness, just as I had thought on Mabon. I knew I would get this wish, for it was already happening. It was Jimmy. He was my happiness.

And happiness had never looked so beautiful. He rested his chin on his hand, looking intently at me as I worked carefully to remove the incense. A soft smile sat upon his features. His hair looked wonderful today, and his eyes were shimmering in the reflection of the kitchen light. I leaned over the cake and kissed him, a special thank-you for all he had done today.

"What was that for?" He asked.

"For being the best boyfriend."

He kissed me, "That's for being the best girlfriend." It was terribly cheesy, a banal display of romance but I didn't care. For once, I was happy with cliche. Life had been endlessly disappointing and out of the norm, I could handle some decorum.

"This is so good!" I sat back in my chair, eyes closed, and savored the sweet taste. It was the best I'd gotten yet. It was a chocolate cake with green frosting. He had listened to me when I told him in passing that I didn't like vanilla. Another small detail he hadn't spared.

We ended the night in bed, where he sang me a soft song, his voice low in my ear. Lucy was cuddled between us and I drifted into a peaceful sleep, feeling more loved than ever. It was certainly the best birthday I'd had yet.

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Taglist: 

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @jimmypages , @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmys-zeppelin​