#Adam (Client No 5)

[percontaion-points]

Client No 5 chapters 13 & 14

This book review contains discussions of sw; reader discretion is advised

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Chapter 13

New York was a wonderful place to be in when you were in love. I wondered if Scott and I would fall in love, if we would even make it that long. I tried not to get my hopes up.

The worst part about this relationship is that Ally is already quitting it before it even began. No matter how much that she might change over the course of the next ~100 pages, I can’t take her relationship with Scott seriously because of this. 

“I’m trying to warn my roommate that I’m about to come in. She often does things in the living room that should be kept private, if you get what I mean.” That was only part of the reason. A sinking sensation had settled in my stomach, and I was trying to buy myself some time to think of a way to get Scott away from there. 

His eyes went wide. “And you’re okay with that?”

I shrugged. I usually just ignored her, but I had a feeling that it would be too confronting for Scott.

Once again, this relationship is doomed from the get-go. Ally tried to tell Scott that she wasn’t girlfriend material. That she lived in a world that revolved around her fucking other men. He said that he didn’t care, and pushed her to accept anyway. 

I kind of want the second half of the book to be nothing but their relationship falling apart and Ally moving on with her life. 

“But you guys don’t still…you don’t still fuck now, right?”

“He wishes!” I said, laughing, then realized he probably wouldn’t find that funny.

He’s literally dating an escort; he’d better get used to it if he wants this relationship to last longer than this hour. 

“And if you were to count up all the clients, what would your number be then?”

[...]

“I’m fine. I’d like you to answer my questions, please.” 

“Does it matter?” I asked. 

“No. I’m not going to judge you. I know it’s going to be a high number. I’m just curious.”

He said that her being an escort wouldn’t bother him. Not even an hour later, every single aspect of her career is bothering him. 

“How would you feel about coming to Miami to visit me?” 

“I’m sure we could arrange it. I’d have to let Todd know some dates so he can schedule around them.” 

Scott frowned, but didn’t say anything. I wondered how hard it was for him to pretend like my job didn’t bother him.

He seems upset that she can’t simply drop everything and go to Florida. But it would be the same with literally any other job. 

I opened my mouth to share something I’d never told anyone—how I had been irrevocably broken.

Chapter 13 summary: Ally literally never takes guys to her home, but she decides that Scott isn’t a client, he’s her boyfriend now. They go to her apartment, only to find Jamie and Adam going at it on the sofa. Scott seems put off by that. 

In her room, Ally explains about her relationship, past and present, with Todd. Again, Scott is really put off by it. He asks her how many people that she’s slept with, and she only says 4. That clients don’t count. He wants to know how many clients that she’s serviced, and is again, really upset by the entire thing. HE’S DATING AN ESCORT; HE DOESN’T GET TO BE WEIRDED OUT BY HER HAVING FUCKED 2000+ MEN! 

Since Ally had said that she’d literally never fucked a single person on her bed before, Scott suggests that they should break it in. Things start to get hot and heavy, but then Ally starts to have second thoughts about the entire relationship thing. She tells him that this isn’t going to work out, and says that she doesn’t deserve any of this. Scott isn’t buying the idea that she doesn’t deserve love, and asks her what happened to make her like this. 

Chapter 14

Scott pulled me into his embrace again and hugged me close. “How do I put you back together?”

Look, I’m all for a good HEA. But a girl who has 2 different boys cheat on her, and then she decides to give up on love and become an escort… needs something a little bit more than the love of a steadfast man. 

Scott pulled me into his embrace again and hugged me close. “How do I put you back together?”

Chapter 14 summary: We get a flashback to when Ally was in college. She was in a 2 year relationship with a guy, Nick, and thought “tonight’s the night! He’s going to propose!” Only when she got home a bit early from class, she literally caught Nick balls-deep in some hussy. 

She ran through the rain to Zach’s apartment, but he was in class. Todd was there, and he comforted the crying Ally. First with alcohol, and then with his body. After they’d finished, he told her that it was so good, she should go pro. 

Back in the present, Scott tries to tell her without outright saying that what she’s doing isn’t healthy. However, rather than to recommend actual therapy, he recommends his penis. 

[msgexymunson]

The Ink Shop Part 2

Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.

A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 

❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️

7k words 

Masterlist Part 1

For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 

Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 

“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 

“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 

Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 

Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.

The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 

“I see London, I see France…” 

You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 

“Eddie!” 

He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 

“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 

His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 

“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 

“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 

Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 

“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 

Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 

You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”

If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.

Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 

But that just makes his smile wider. 

“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 

“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 

“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 

“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 

You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 

At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 

So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 

As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  

“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 

You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 

“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 

“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 

“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 

Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 

“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 

“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 

“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 

In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 

Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 

“Good girl.” 

Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.

For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 

The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 

Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 

Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 

“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 

“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 

“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 

“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.

You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 

He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 

Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”

“May I have a beer, please?” 

“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 

Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 

Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 

As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.

“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 

“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 

“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 

“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, shoot.” 

Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 

Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 

“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 

Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 

“What? What is it?” 

Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 

“What, like, kissing?” 

Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 

Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 

Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 

His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 

“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 

“Oh.”

Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.

“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 

“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 

“Liar.” 

Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 

“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 

He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 

“I know that, I mean…” 

For a second he just gapes at you. 

“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 

Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 

Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 

“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 

Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 

“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 

He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. ��I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 

That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 

“Please?” 

“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 

“Fine. Right now.” 

“Oh I didn't-” 

“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 

Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 

“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 

‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 

“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”

Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.

“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 

For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 

“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 

He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 

You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 

“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 

“Eddie!” 

He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 

“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 

Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.

“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 

“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 

“No, no, it's very… you.” 

“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 

“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 

“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 

“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 

You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 

Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 

The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 

“You can sit down, princess.” 

Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 

“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 

“No I- I was- maybe this-” 

“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 

“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 

“But i haven't showered-” 

“When did you last?” 

“Well… this morning.” 

“You're fine. Trust me.” 

He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 

“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.

He'll break your heart. 

“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 

A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 

“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 

Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 

“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 

He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 

Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 

“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 

He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 

Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 

Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 

Staring at you, he shakes his head.

“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 

You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 

It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.

“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 

It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 

His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 

“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 

“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 

He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 

As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 

“Fuck, look at you.” 

The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 

“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 

You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 

“Say it. You need to say it.” 

‘Yes, please Eddie.” 

That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 

“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 

“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 

“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 

Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 

The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 

He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 

Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 

“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 

“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 

You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 

Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 

Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 

“You OK princess?” 

OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 

“Think you can go again?” 

That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 

Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 

“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 

Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 

“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 

This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 

You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 

“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 

With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 

After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 

“So? Good?” 

It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 

For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 

“That's not part of the deal.” 

Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 

“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 

“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 

“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 

“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 

“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 

“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 

“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 

“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 

“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 

“Night Eddie.” 

When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 

Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 

Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?

After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 

Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 

As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 

There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 

Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.

You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 

A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 

Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 

Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 

It looks like it's going to be a long night. 

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

“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 

It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 

“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 

“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 

The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 

“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 

“Morning, can I help you?” 

“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 

Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 

“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 

He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 

“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 

Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 

“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 

When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 

“You're not my 10:30.” 

The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 

“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 

Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 

“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 

Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.

“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 

He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 

Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 

There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 

Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 

“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 

“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 

“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 

Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 

“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 

Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 

“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 

“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.

You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 

“So, as I was saying-” 

“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 

“I was only-” 

“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 

You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 

When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 

Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 

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

It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 

By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 

He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.

The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.

“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 

He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 

“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 

“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 

“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 

“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 

You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Really?” 

Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 

“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 

Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 

His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 

“Of course I would. You got their number?” 

He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 

“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 

He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 

“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 

Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 

“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 

Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 

His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 

“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 

You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 

He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 

“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 

“Eddie I already owe-” 

He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 

You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 

“Who the fuck is Barb?”

“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 

He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 

Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 

Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 

“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 

Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 

“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 

“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 

He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 

He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 

“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 

“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 

He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 

“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 

He smirks at you in response.

“You free tonight? I can show you.” 

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi

[holylulusworld]

Indifferent (5)

Summary: Your father wanted a bond between you and the Barnes Empire. No matter what.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, arguments, mafia au, strong reader, jealousy, teasing, language

Catch up here: Indifferent (4)

Indifferent Masterlist

Bucky was always a mother’s boy. He loved to bask in her praises and all the things she did only for him. He was her firstborn and always had a special place in Winnifred’s heart.

Now everything has changed. His beloved mother ignores him to spend time with his wife and he can’t take it. Bucky sulks in the corner of his dining room, watching his mother and wife conspire.

In truth, you are talking about cutlery, wine, and flowers. Bucky only imagines you conspiring with his mother to make his life harder.

He harrumphs and crosses his arms over his chest. Bucky watches you giggle at something his mother said with angry eyes. “How much longer will this take? I’m hungry and this is the dining room.”

“Shush, Jamie,” Winnifred coos. “We are close to choosing the flower arrangements. Your wife has a good eye for decoration and flowers.”

“She sure knows how to spend money for useless things,” Bucky huffs and points at the vase filled with lilies standing on the dining table. “She is wasting my money on shit like that every day.”

“She has a name—” Winnifred snaps at Bucky. She narrows her eyes, and huffs. “If you don’t make her gifts, Y/N has to buy the things she likes. Do you want to deny your wife even the simplest things?”

Bucky inhales sharply. He holds back comment, and rather huffs. Bucky can’t believe you wrapped Winnifred around your fingers. How can his mother be on your side? He still doesn’t understand what he did wrong.

“I’ll be in the kitchen, eating dinner like an animal on the kitchen counter,” he snarls, before leaving the room. He can hear Winnifred chuckle about his outburst. “Yeah, laugh about me.”

“Jamie, stop making a fuss. You’re not a child anymore. Can you act like a grown man for once? I’m not going to baby you.”

Bucky throws something against the door of the dining room. He curses loudly before storming off, earning a chuckle from you and his mother.

“He was such a sweet boy…”

Bucky follows an odd noise toward your wing. He frowns, as you moan loudly. “I knew it,” he snarls before breaking your adamant rule to not enter your wing of the mansion. Bucky almost rips the door out of its hinges, storming inside to find the source of your pleasure.

“Right there, Thor,” you whimper, and moan. “Yes, oh God…yes. Please, harder.”

Bucky gets his gun out. If you bring that masseur slash secret lover to his home, he has the right to kill him. He unlocks the gun and kicks the door to your bedroom open.

You shriek in terror and immediately snap your head toward the door, or what’s left of it. Bucky stands in the doorframe, a gun aimed at Thor, and his chest heaving.

“Did you lose your mind?” You cry while Thor’s hands are still on your shoulders. The blonde giant tuts and goes back to work. It’s not the first time a husband or boyfriend misinterpret his profession. “Get out!”

“I won’t let that giant touch my wife!” You huff at Bucky’s words, but your eyes are still glued to the gun in his hands. “Take your hands off my wife!!!”

“Sir, I must ask you to not stress my client,” Thor doesn’t sound scared at all. He continues kneading the knots out of your shoulders. “She was about to relax before you ruined my hard work.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bucky puffs out a huff. “I’m aiming a gun at your head, and you still touch my wife?”

“She pays me for a full hour, Mr. Barnes.” If not for the gun aimed at Thor, you’d chuckle at his response. “If you’d excuse us now. This is not a show, but a private session.”

“Punk, do I speak unclearly?” Bucky grunts, while stepping further into the room. “This is a gun, and I’ll use it if you don’t take your dirty hands off my wife!”

“Mr. Barnes, I can assure you my hands are clean and disinfected.” You can hear the smirk in Thor’s voice. “Hygiene is an important part of my job. I’d never touch your lovely wife with dirty hands.” Thor replies lowly. “Only if she wants me to, though.”

Bucky fires a bullet into the wall next to Thor. The blonde doesn’t even flinch. “Your accuracy is not the best. Do you want me to train you?” Thor laughs at Bucky’s pissed expression. “I’m an excellent trainer.”

“You think you’re funny, huh?” Bucky sounds beyond angry. He’s close to losing control, you can see it in the way he clenches his jaw. “What if I give you a brand-new haircut? One bullet and your locks are history.”

“Christ, Bucky,” you whisper Thor’s name, asking him to stop. He immediately steps away from the massage table to give you space to sit up. “Can you not act like a goddamn caveman?”

Bucky wilds his gun, growling and snarling at you. “You brought that man into my home. I told you to not do such a thing. But here we are.”

“I needed his help,” you bite back. “Every time you are around, my back locks up, and I have kinks in my neck. Thor’s hands are magical.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. He inhales sharply when you keep on praising Thor’s hands.

“You!” He points his gun at Thor. “I give you ten seconds to haul your ass out of my home. If I ever see your bleached hair ever again, you are dog food.”

Thor eyes your husband warily, debating if it's worth it to get shot.

Bucky steps closer to grab your upper arm, dragging you off the massage table. “And you will come with me. I’ll show you what happens if you ever let another man touch you.

Tags in reblog.

[mx-your-name]

His Goddess - 2

Possessive!Adam x Goddess!Reader

Warning: Yandere theme, Possessive Adam, minimum Obsessed Adam, mention of willing to kill angels and sinners, Adam trying to fight a literal GOD, slight mention of sized and mommy kink, a weird ass dead Angel willing to do anything for you that goes by the name of fucking ADAM!

-Like any normal day you were awake doing business whether it was watching over the mortal world, heaven, or hell

-Just then you had to get called into a meeting making you even more annoyed while you were trying to maintain all three places which were all chaotic.. Lute was a mess after Adam’s death with Sera and Emily trying to cheer her up or something, hell was hell, and Earth was just a mix of heaven and hell that was 10x worse than both

-And to your no amusement only to find out that the meeting had lasted for three hours!

-Not only did you miss out on normal day activities you do but Adam was also panicked on where you were at

-He had woken up and went to the normal spot to find you NOT there so he thought you were in your library or something? Nope! Garden? Not there either! He had looked everywhere only to find no one, not his goddess in sight

-Adam knew he shouldn’t worry since you were not only a HOT GODDESS but one that is more powerful than the other four

-Including your hot and sexiness

- *s i g h s in d i s a p p o i n t m e n t*

-Image him calling you tall milf or Mommy cause how you always towered over him.. yeah weird motherfucker but we still love him

-You see how cocky he is about himself just wait until he tells you all the cool stuff that he had done for you to fall more in love with him but fails miserably, you already saw everything he had done from the start of time itself

-Size kink, you can’t tell me otherwise! Whether it’s you or him that’s taller! He’ll still have a size kink no matter what!

-Still calls you a bitch but instead he says, “milf bitch,” or “tall bitch,” or “hot bitch,” or even “mommy bitch,” He’s still coming up with more nicknames for you till this day, yeah weird motherfucker am I right?

-I regret doing this but I love him sfm…

-Has told you multiple times that you belonged to him and him alone which is like 5 or 6 times PER DAY sadly..

-Of course he trusts that you’d never leave him for someone else like who would? He’s Adam! The first man! The dickmaster! He just doesn’t trust that goody tooshoo Cupid guy that talks nonstop about love this and love that

-Yeah.. he definitely had to tell himself that he was the only one made for you and you alone. He fucking CACKLED for the past 5 10 minutes about that

-Meanwhile you were super bored in the meeting which was talking about what to do with certain IMP’s in hell that were going back up to the human world messing with the people and killing them after getting more calls from clients and shit about that

-You were really wishing you brought Adam in here to make it entertaining and have some views from a person that knew sinners personally that just wanted to kill them

-Now when you were looking through the eyes you have everywhere and saw Adam laughing to himself then leaving to grab a drink and sip on it, maybe it was in fact the best idea to not have him come to this Gods meeting

“I say we just go down there and handle them ourselves! Sooner or later they are gonna need to learn to not FUCK with the human world and just stay in their damn place! Maybe we should even give Stolas a visit about him letting those IMP’s use his book that was passed on through his family from us!” Demeter shouted slamming her fist on the table now standing up from her chair knocking it over making it tumble onto the ground. The vines alongside the wall as decoration grew bigger fast from her anger that was swelling up inside of her.

“Not only that but they are messing with nature! The nature that I took my time growing! The nature that I took my time out of my schedule to plant in the place that was needed and thought out only from it all gets mostly destroyed by.. fucking IMP’s!” Her shouting was heard throughout the entire room and through the giant down for all of your 40 foot tall frames. The vines growing faster and faster the more her anger boiled, Eros shirking down a bit muttering how this didn’t feel like a lovely conversation anymore.

Themis sat there, her hands intertwined neatly on the table, staring at Demeter through her blindfold over her eyes with a straight face. Ares felt the anger that was all so familiar that he knew during the wars he went through time and time again for humans only that was never really appreciated or respected anymore nowadays. You knew every emotion that everyone was feeling, you sat at your seat in between both sides. Resting your face in the palm of your hand that stood up on the arm of your chair wanting this meeting to be over since you still had stuff that you needed to get down.

For example like making sure that Adam hadn’t gone mad when finding that you were missing and leaving your place without him. It was always important to him that when you left you had to take him with you since he was always feeling like you were just cheating on him with that Cupid guy which Adam refers to him as. Yeah you had to tell him just because you're leaving without him doesn’t mean you're doing any of that with Eros after all he wasn’t anything more. That but also because Eros already basically had two wives since he is Cupid.

You also had to remind Adam that you two weren’t dating, which Adam acted so dramatic about crying that you didn’t love him anymore. He had crocodile tears going down his face, sighing as you lifted him up in your hands telling him to stop crying. When he thought you weren’t looking he had a smirk on his face knowing that he won the conversation. He “always” did, instead you only let him since Eros told you over and over that he could feel Adam’s love for you raiding off of him, but told you privately that the love Adam had for you was more toxic and possessive but still said it was so cute to see the love between you two!

“Demeter, please calm down. We’ll get this whole situation sorted out in no time and you know revealing ourselves to anyone besides to the certain people that know about us would mess up everything and would cause chaos to arise. We’ll all come up with a plan on what to do, maybe we could speak to Stolas about the matter after all he knows of our existence because of his family.” You told Demeter, breaking through the tension between everyone once snapping out of your thoughts about the matter you're gonna have to deal with when getting back to your place.

“I sincerely apologize, [Name]. I’m just a bit mad for what those IMP’s are doing to my amazing plants down on the planet Earth.” She explained, her vines shrinking back down with a swipe of her hand. Her once chair that laid on the ground was now sat back up thanks to her plants that sprouted from the bottom of her feet. Demeter sat back down in her seat with a swift motion, Eros now sitting back up in his pink chair that had hearts on it that was designed that was to his liking.

-After that whole thing the meeting went completely normal figuring out ideas and coming up with a way to get what Demeter wanted without breaking any of the rules

-Never have you been so thankful in your life when the meeting finally ended letting all five of you go back to what you were doing before the three hour long God and Goddess gathering

-Snapping your fingers you were easily back at your place, Adam who was watching television with a slurpee in hand sipping on it

-Your once 40 foot tall height shrunk down to ten feet that was still taller than Adam since you didn’t feel comfortable being short cause it didn’t fit you, that’s what you’d always say

-Once you sat down beside him on the couch expect him to immediately cling onto you like you were a jungle gym or something

-For a warning he ain’t ever gonna let go until he feels that he can but will still cling to your side wherever your heart leads you to

-Threatening anyone that he deems competition that’ll try and fight for your love

-Yes he HAS in fact threatened the other gods even the goddesses about staying away from you his lover

-Oh my YOU! He almost died a second time thanks to Ares but it was stopped by you. Adam knew that you’d protect him but didn’t show it telling you that he could’ve handled it on his own

-no… just no-

-Adam so wished Lute was here so he could show you off to her and say he had hit the jackpot on finding the one that was always meant to be his lover from the start

-He does miss Lute most of the time feeling a bit lonely without his best friend by his side but at least you're here with him! Not like you're ever gonna leave. He wasn’t able to die again with him by your side and you wouldn’t be able to die since you are a LITERAL goddess

-Had tried to convince you to bring Lute up here multiple times but you told him that you weren’t able to do that for the sake of the rules that were written down for you, you did tell him that if she did die that she would come up here and could stay here with the two of you if he wanted. Adam agreed with little hesitation because he realized that he might get you all to himself but if Lute was her she could protect you like your bodyguard

-As if you were gonna need one! If anyone tried attacking you they’re flicked away and if they did manage to after trying to get to where your at

“Oh come on Sugar tits! You will live Lute and we both could get what we want! I can have my best pal with me and you could have another person to add to this house that could pretty you!” Adam tried convincing you, walking side by side in the garden of flowers that Demeter had set up for you since she said your house was a bit dull m, that was but it wasn’t anymore when Adam arrived here and moved in total with your permission.

“I had already told you Adam, I’m not aloud the only way she could come up here is if she dies WITHOUT it being caused by me or any of the others.” You told him for the second time in the past two minutes man. Wait sugar tits? Oh great another nickname for you, guess it was a bit better than bitch mommy, gross. “Oh don’t be like that babes, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just one person!” Adam said, slurping on his slurpee in hand, his golden wings resting behind his back. He no longer had his weird looking mask since he had died without it on.

“You ask one more time and I’ll take you going on walks with me in the garden away no scratch that, I'll take you sleeping with me away for a whole damn week if it makes you be quiet.” That had gotten Adam to shut up rather quickly huh guess that’s one of the things he doesn’t wanna go a week without or even a single day. He had bugged you so much one time so you kicked him out of your room for a whole night, he slept outside the door and apologized for what he did later that morning. He couldn’t even stand the feeling of sleeping without you in your big giant bed together.

Nodding your head as you continue your way through the garden admiring the flowers that Demeter had made for you. It was rather normal for all the gods or in other cases goddesses to give the others housewarming gifts. Demeter gave all of you plants and flowers, Eros had gotten any pink and pastel colors to represent love. Ares had gotten all shades of red and some black ones that often had both colors mixed to represent the war for him which he loved gladly.

Themis had gotten just blue that were all shades since she only wanted blue and some were white as an exception since Demeter said it was too bluey for the whole garden. You had gotten all kinds of colors since you were creation and creation could make any color and another part of the garden had darker shades of colors including black, all shades of gray, brown, and etc to represent the destruction.

Ares gave every person some knight armory stands along side the outside or inside of the huge like places you all live at to represent the protection of knights that could come to live from his power to protect the place it guards if anything tried to ever attack which was very unlikely but better be safe than sorry. Eros gifted everyone scented candles with your favorite scents and always gave you all new ones every once or two weeks cause the old ones melt away but that’s okay!

Themis gifted everyone scale if anyone needed an option on anything if you don’t ever make up your mind or see where a person should go to be either reincarnated or whiling them from the face of the entire existence. Your gift to everyone was to make anything they wished for since you had creation letting you create anything with the power of your magic that didn’t break a single sweat from you.

“How does a nice dinner and a movie tonight sound to you?” Breaking the silence with ease as your hand held the flower between your fingertips, the beauty is always surprising on how pretty and amazing things can look if you just focus on the present instead of technology, staying inside all day, or just not giving a single care about the world at all. “That sounds awesome, sugar tits.” Adam quickly agreed, grinning ear to ear, and there that nickname was there again.

Not able to hold the smile back from appearing on your face, letting out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids open up revealing [color] eyes that had a star in the middle of it as the pupils. What made you even more beautiful to Adam in the scenery was your smile that would be worth a thousand or even more words that he spent in a heartbeat. But also because of the way you looked at him with pure eyes that seemed to easily overpower anyone if they tried to fight you, yet again they held both the sunset and sunrise you would always want to see with your significant other every day at any given chance that was open for free.

The sun shining brightly behind you making your appearance glow brightly made Adam feel like he fell so much harder for you than he already was. If he thought he was already deeply in love with you, this one handed split second had sealed the deal on his love that he felt for only you. And the way you were looking at him with laughter and a smile he knew you must love him back. If it wasn’t his cockyness talking he would say that he was glad you were starting to love him but maybe not as much as he loves you but that’s okay cause he could love you with all the love he’d offer. Maybe even kill sinners and angels combined to see you give him that smile every day.

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

Guilty

[Pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

[Summary]: The some-what peaceful summer break of you and your friends is over when you're arrested for a murder, you didn't commit.

[Warnings]: talks about murder, my writing, not proof read

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

2023  July 26th, 4:23 pm

“Your honor, I can confidently state that my client is innocent” 

Your lawyer speaks seriously, standing up and looking the Judge in the eye.Your leg shakes as you fidget with the rings on your fingers anxiously.  

“She is a cold-blooded killer! She murdered 3 people!” The lawyer of a family member from one of the victims’ families says almost aggressively, standing up too.

“Okay. If you could please sit down, Attorney Lee.” The Judge speaks calmly, looking at the lawyer. She sits down and the Judge turns back to your lawyer “please, continue” 

And while your lawyer speaks to the Judge, trying to prove your innocence, Tara Carpenter, you dear beloved, is also anxiously waiting for what’s next, her heart racing and her blood rushing through her veins as a few drops of sweat litter her forehead in the hot July afternoon. Beside her is her sister, Sam, her leg bouncing as she bites her fingernail while her gaze is focused entirely on the Judge and your lawyer. Their friends, Mindy and Chad are also there, leaned forward in their seats, worried eyes burning holes into the back of your head.

—---------

2023 June 4th, 3:45 pm

You are sitting on the couch in the Carpenter apartment, watching a movie while Tara and Mindy are trying to cook something, Sam is shouting at them for almost burning the kitchen down and Chad is sitting beside you, the loud sounds of shots fired in the game he's playing adding to the chaos. 

Groaning when your head starts to hurt from both the loud noise and the heat in the apartment. So you pick up a magazine from the coffee table and start fanning yourself, sighing when your body is no longer on fire. 

Soon, you hear a small scoff from the kitchen then loud steps approaching the couch and in a moment, Tara is seated on the other side of your body. 

“Hey, Tar. What’s up?” 

She groans and leans her head on your shoulder, which causes you to scrunch your face up as her sweaty forehead touches your bare shoulder, but you don’T say anything. “Sam’s annoying as always.”

You chuckle and nod. “What are you watching?” She asks, her eyes on the TV screen, tying to figure out what’s playing. 

Your eyes widen and you turn to her “Are you serious? “She nods, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion “The Expendables, of course. How do you not know that?” You say, rolling your eyes, before mumbling “Or at least trying to” You side eye Chad who’s too invested in his phone to notice it. 

“I’m sorry, the what now?” Tara sits up, looking at you. 

“See, this is why you need to watch movies from other genres, not just horror!”

Tara laughs sarcastically while you scoff and look back at the screen. Your little bickering is however interrupted by loud banging on the front door of the apartment. 

Suddenly, everything is quiet and Sam slowly heads to the door, opening it only to be pushed aside roughly by a large man in a police uniform. Everyone stands up in confusion as two other men barge inside. As soon as the first one makes eye contact with you, he shouts and points at you, making the other too run towards you as you’re frozen in place and grab you, cuffing you. There is a loud ringing in your ears that muffle Tara’s confused screams as Sam holds her back. The first man steps in front of you, an emotionless expression on his face as he speaks.

“Y/N L/N, you are under arrest for the murder of Adam Cooper, Lucas Murphy and 11 year old child Thomas Jones” 

—-------

2023 July 26th 5:12

You zoned out for almost an hour while the Judge spoke to both of the lawyers and the jury. It’s when you hear the sound of the Judge’s hammer hitting the table that you pick up your head and the judge speaks. 

“The judgment is final. Y/N L/N has been proven guilty and will serve time in Folsom State Prison….for life”  

Your eyes fill with tears and your breathing is unsteady as you stand up when guards approach you, cuffing you and dragging you slowly out of the courtroom. Your lawyer puts his head in his hands and sits back down, Sam, Mindy and Chad stand up and start protesting. Tara already has tears streaming down her cheeks as she starts running towards you. 

“NO!No! You can’t take her! She’s innocent!” She sobs while Sam rushes to her and holds her back.

And there’s that. On July 26th, 2023. Your life was officially changed. But a little bit, deep down, everyone in that room knew that the real killer was there, watching and sitting quietly with a barely noticeable smirk on his face. 

As soon as you’re dragged out, he stands up, buttons his suit jacket -that he chose to wear even in the hot afternoon- and proudly walks out of the courtroom, noticed by no one, because the chaos has settled in.

A/N: again, it's very short but i'm getting back into it.

[effy-writes]

Striker x GN! Reader: Killin’

requested from Wattpad

i SUCK at writing fight scenes 😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Striker was very adamant about killing his client's targets. Very, very adamant. He always gets the job done.

But he's been sweating over this one target. His client was a dangerous one, an already killing machine. But why would this killing machine higher an assassin to kill somebody else?

Striker was supposed to kill you a week ago, but you didn't know that. He's been extra loving though. Bought you flowers, bought you cologne/perfume, spending a lot of time with you. At first you didn't think much of it, but with him spoiling you it's been worrying you.

You guys been dating for 2 years so at first you thought he was going to propose, but you didn't really think that. He looked too nervous.

"You doing alright?" You rested your hand on his knee.

"Fine."

"You'll tell me, right? I care about you."

He looked into your eyes, "I'll tell ya'. Don't worry."

The next morning you two got woken up by a bullet piercing through the bedroom window, completely shattering it. You picked up your dagger while Striker hurriedly grabbed his gun.

"I know they're in there Striker!"

You never saw Striker this scared before, "Striker?"

"Get down,"

"Huh?"

"I said get down! Get under the bed." He yelled right as another bullet zipped through the glassless window.

Without questions asks you got underneath the bed with a dagger held close to you.

You saw Striker leave the bedroom and heard the front door open, "I ain't killin' them!"

“What the fuck is going on?” You mumbled.

The sounds of bullets shooting through pierced your ears. You wanted to help, but you know Striker means business whenever he yells. He hates yelling at you and never does it until your life may be in danger. And today was one of those days.

But you wanted to help him, you can't bare to see him injured or even worse, die.

You crawled from underneath the bed and sat down underneath the shattered window. You were planning on jumping out to catch this guy off guard, but you know it's reckless.

The fighting didn't seem to go away which is worrisome for you because Striker is an amazing assassin and you wanted to help him out.

In a swift second you felt someone grab your collar and pulled you through the open window.

"Get your hands off of them!" Striker tried running towards you but since the client shot him in the knee he collapsed back on the ground. You let out a loud scream and used your dagger to cut his wrist.

The client dropped you and you quickly turned around to get a good look of his face and why he wanted you dead, but you didn't recognize him. Once you saw that the client pointed his hand gun at you, you crawled through the broken window again but you felt an intense burning sensation on the back of your thigh. The bullet got lodged in there, completely shattering your femur. You shouted through the pain as he dragged you right out of the window again.

During this, Striker scooted on the ground, sticking his arm out as far as he could to retrieve his gun.

The client ran back to get Striker before he could get his gun back. The client was a lot bigger than Striker, towering him by 5 feet and the width of him could easily crush Striker. He struggled as the client held him in a choke hold.

You held the bullet wound, trying to keep the blood from spewing out. You tried climbing back inside the house but the pain was overbearing.

"I paid you to kill them!" The client growled as Striker took the clients hand gun from his holster. "And you're gonna do it."

The client pointed the hand gun towards you while pinning Strikers hands and finger onto the trigger.

"WAIT," Striker yelled as the client pulled Strikers finger, resulting in the gun firing off, directly into your head.

Striker yelled in sorrow as he watched your body go limp. The client laughed in a menacing manner, dropping Striker and the gun.

Striker reached for it but the client swiftly picked the gun up. "I paid you to do the job but you failed."

"Why did you want me to kill them?" Striker gritted his teeth, not processing on what just happened.

"I didn't know who they were, I just knew you were dating them. I wanted to make you suffer for killing my girlfriend."

"It's my job!"

The client crouched, "And yet you refused to kill your own significant other. Enjoy suffering for the rest of your life."

The client kicked Strikers stomach before driving off. Striker crawled to your lifeless body. His shattered knee didn't matter to him anymore.

"Y/n?" He shook you, "Y/n, please wake up." His voice shook.

Striker sat up and rested his back against the house wall and pulled you into his arms, the blood of your head covered his hands and body. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

[humbledragon669]

Script to Screen comparison: Episode 5 – The Doomsday Option P1 – large changes and deletions

Standard Intro

Having followed the episodes through with the Script Book, I've tried to break the differences between the original script and the end result on screen into a couple of different categories:

Large changes (whole scenes/multiple lines of script.

Things that are in the original script but not in the finished episode (I'm calling these deletions). This blog post will cover these and large changes only (for brevity) – additions and amendments will be covered separately.

Things that aren't in the original script but are in the finished episode (I'm calling these additions).

Things that have been changed (I'm calling these ones amendments).

Not all of the changes fit neatly into one category or the other (there are shades of grey...). The first three of the differences will be presented within bullet lists, with a description. The last of the categories will be presented in a table. I'll make comments about anything I find particularly notable after each category.

Large changes

The opening shot of the first scene has changed – the script had Crowley driving towards the camera, angry and scared, amongst a cacophony of fire engines and police sirens, instead of an overhead shot of the Bentley driving through the streets of London.

The opening to scene #503 has changed – a shot of Crowley in the Bentley driving past a hive of activity outside the bookshop is missing entirely, and instead of seeing him drive the car up onto the pavement (or sidewalk if you prefer) with a dramatic brake screech, we have a simpler shot of his exiting the already stationary car.

Scene #506 changes:

The opening of this scene is missing, which would have showed the bookshop collapsing, the police doing some crowd management and a firefighter telling his colleagues how he tried to stop Crowley from entering the building.

The voiceover speech from God has been repositioned (it would originally have been heard as Crowley departs Soho).

There is a line from God’s speech that has been cut (“He had nowhere to go.”).

The stage directions suggest Crowley should have looked a lot more dishevelled than he does in the finished episode.

There should have been a number of onlookers at the scene, all of whom are scripted to look at Crowley but not really see him. They even move, silently, out of the way as the demon returns to his car.

Crowley’s sunglasses were originally scripted to go into a bin.

The stage directions have the Bentley reversing from the scene.

The explosion that takes place as Crowley drives past the window of the bookshop is additional to the script.

A conversation between a firefighter and a police officer about Crowley’s departure is missing.

There is a shot of Madame Tracy answering the door to Shadwell, including an obviously rehearsed welcome speech for her clients, that has been cut.

A chunk of conversation between Madame Tracy and Shadwell, where he hints at the devastating power he now believes he has, is missing from the finished episode.

A handful of lines from Adam where he appears to be talking to Dog about the events that are underway have been cut.

Scene #514 (Madame Tracy brings a sleeping Shadwell a cup of tea) has been cut.

A couple of lines between Newt and Anathema about the morality and their capacity to kill a child have been cut.

There is a sentence from Madame Tracy where she tells her clients to hurry up and get inside owing to the terrible weather, which Mrs. Ormerod’s responds to. Both of these lines have been cut.

A few lines between Madame Tracy and her clients as they are welcomed into the flat are missing from the finished episode.

An exchange between Madame Tracy, Julia and Mrs. Ormerod about their donations has been cut.

Scene #522 (an exterior shot of the café car park showing Famine’s bike parked up) has been repositioned. It was originally scripted to take place after Famine’s entrance into the café, rather than before it.

A chunk of dialogue between Famine and War about them not having birthdays and the weather, including scene #524 (an exterior shot of the café car park showing Pollution parking their bike up), has all been cut.

Scene #528 (an establishing exterior shot of Shadwell’s flat) and the dialogue at the beginning of scene #529 that immediately follows (where Madame Tracy issues séance instructions to her clients) have both been cut.

A chunk of Madame Tracy’s lines, where she initiates the séance proper, is missing from the finished episode.

Mrs. Ormerod’s initial questioning of Colleen about Ron being with her originally included a much longer speech, where she lists out some of the things she wants to tell him.

A couple of lines between Madame Tracy and Mr. Scroggie about his supposed spirit visitor have been cut.

The final interaction between Madame Tracy and Mrs. Ormerod, complete with a pathetic threat from the latter, is missing from the finished episode.

An extension to the scene in the kitchen, where Madame Tracy actually makes two cups of tea, taking Aziraphale’s preferences into account, has been cut.

Most of the content from scene #531 (Crowley stuck in the traffic jam) is missing. This includes a conversation between Crowley and Beelzebub via the car stereo. The following scene (a police officer in their car talking to the dispatch room as a rain of fish starts to fall) has been cut entirely. The final cut to this sequence is a single line from the beginning of the next scene, where the radio announces the M25 traffic jam to be the worst in history.

Scene #534 (the shot of Crowley in a muddy field, repositioning markers) has been repositioned to interject scene #127 (Crowley giving a talk about the M25). The script also gives quite a bit more in terms of stage directions for this shot, all of which is missing, along with the only line Crowley says for this scene (him telling the M25 that it is both a motorway and the sigil, Odegra).

Shadwell’s awakening in Madame Tracy’s flat is different – he was originally scripted to wander through the flat, flattening himself against the wall before he enters the kitchen, holding his hands in front of him in a childlike “gun” arrangement.

An interaction between Madame Tracy and Shadwell, where he refuses to listen to what Aziraphale has to say, has been cut.

We were supposed to see the scene in Shadwell’s flat where Aziraphale and Shadwell discuss the arrival of the Antichrist on earth in two separate POVs (one from Madame Tracy, the other from Shadwell), rather than the standard narrative-type position we see in the episode.

A chunk of dialogue and its accompanying establishing shots about Madame Tracy’s available transportation, including one of the two/three of them mounting the scooter and leaving the flat, has been cut.

The stage directions have Crowley’s Bentley covered in dust and already stationary, incorporating a police roadblock, and some sort of special effect to give the impression of “evil energy”. The dust, roadblock, and special effects are all missing, and we actually see the Bentley come to a stop, which forms the only content for this scene.

A large chunk of the beginning of the scene where Adam eventually releases The Them has been cut. In it, we would have seen Adam forcefully levitating Brian, Pepper, and Wensleydale several hundred feet into the air, much to their fright.

The Them having a reunion at the end of the scene on the cricket green has been cut.

Scene #557 (which essentially consists of a bunch of double entendre comments from Madame Tracy whilst she and Shadwell try to get comfy on the scooter) has been cut.

Scene #563 (The Them coming together in Tadfield on their bikes) has been repositioned. It was originally scripted to take place after the Horsemen get the directions from R.P. Tyler, instead of immediately after the cricket green scene.

A chunk of dialogue between Newt and Anathema about how Agnes’s prophecies work in practice is missing from the finished episode.

Scenes #560 (a conversation between some scientists and the police officer that saw Crowley driving through the wall of flame) and #561 (an establishing shot of Madame Tracy and Shadwell flying through the sky on the scooter) have been cut.

An exchange between R.P. Tyler and Pollution, following the latter’s littering in the middle of the street, is missing from the finished episode.

Scene #564 (Heaven preparing to advance) has been cut.

Scene #565 (Hell preparing to advance) has been cut.

The beginning of scene #566 (Newt and Anathema driving to the airbase) has been cut. Mostly this consists of more scene setting for Agnes’s prophecies.

A handful of lines between Newt and Anathema (about the prophecy they’re working with and what her family thought of it) have been repositioned. Originally, they were scripted to take place after Newt’s concerns about being waterboarded rather than before.

A shot of the Horsemen on the other side of the airbase entry gate, becoming four individuals again, concluded with a “creepy” wave from Pollution to the guard, is missing from the finished episode.

Scene #570 changes:

All of the dialogue, which mostly consists of comments about the location that Armageddon is taking place in, has been cut (or repositioned – see amendments).

The setting for this scene was originally scripted to show the Horsemen walking through the airbase, rather than seeing them pull up to the bunker and dismounting.

An interaction between Dog and Shutzi, with accompanying lines from Adam, has been cut.

A speech by War about the human desire to kill is missing from the finished episode. It was meant to be preceded with a shot of Pollution hitting some keys on a keyboard, causing wisps of smoke to appear from it; this is also missing.

An exchange between Death and Pollution, where they explain to him what they’re doing, has been cut.

A handful of lines between War and Famine about Death are missing from the finished episode.

A chunk of scene #575 (two army men in a nuclear bunker), in which the commander and the crewman are trying to complete a crossword, has been cut.

Scene #578 (Madame Tracy/Aziraphale and Shadwell getting directions from R.P. Tyler) has been cut.

The opening to scene #585 has been changed – the shot of Madame Tracy arriving on the scooter is additional to the script, and the whole thing was supposed to be shot as if from the Guard’s POV.

A couple of lines between Death and War about the world being theirs are missing from the finished episode.

A handful of changes have been made to the middle of the scene on the tarmac:

Adam was originally scripted to tell the soldiers the reason that they had to go to sleep (“So you don’t get hurt.”).

There was supposed to be a shot of the lead solider looking at him incredulously.

Pepper had a line, which was ignored, where she asked Adam how he did the things he does.

In episode 4, I noted how much the finished episode differed from the original script by way of amendments. In this episode, the same is true, but this time it’s the amount of material that has been cut that’s notable. Entire scenes (sometimes more than one in a sequence) and speeches have been cut away, seemingly quite brutally. There is also, for the first time in this script-to-screen journey, the first instance of a note-free page in my Script Book, that is to say that particular page is exactly the same between script and screen (it’s page 328 if you’re interested, part of the conversation between Aziraphale and the Quartermaster).

I feel like most of these large changes have been pretty expertly implemented. There are a few of them that would have felt entirely at home in the earlier episodes, where the tone was less urgent and doom-laden (like the scene with the Commander and Crewman completing a crossword), but don’t really have a place this late on in the series – their presence would have slowed the pace, dampening the sense of urgency, and wouldn’t have offered a great deal in return. I feel like it probably takes a very savvy production team to read a series in that multi-layered way, and make the (probably painful) cuts that are needed to maintain the tone they want to achieve.

There is only one large change on the list above that I feel like I miss. It’s the handful of lines between Anathema and Newt where she confesses she wouldn’t be able to kill a child, even if it was to save the whole world. Had those words been present in the finished episode, it would have really highlighted the journey that both Aziraphale and Crowley have made towards becoming human, seeing as they have both admitted the same thing.

Deletions

The stage directions state that Crowley is angry and scared, but this is not apparent in the finished episode.

A line from the firefighter about appearances being deceptive.

An exclamation from the firefighter in an attempt to stop Crowley from entering the bookshop.

The stage directions suggest we should have heard “rumblings” inside the bookshop.

Crowley was scripted to call Aziraphale’s name once more after being knocked over, and then putting his glasses back on.

A line from Shadwell about the events that have happened not having any place on Earth.

A couple of sentences from Madame Tracy, where she assures Shadwell that Newt can probably look after himself.

An interjection from Shadwell where he attempts to reject Madame Tracy’s offer of help.

The stage directions have Heaven with an open roof, and in a state of chaos.

The model of Earth was supposed to be contained within a glass box.

Adam originally brought back the mouths for the rest of The Them with a verbal cue (“Mouths back.”)

The stage directions have a tear running down Brian’s face whilst he grins maniacally.

A line from Anathema about the earth moving during her escapades with Newt.

A line from Anathema about the storm dying down.

The stage directions have Anathema picking up the prophecy cards in the bedroom after she tells Newt to get dressed.

A couple of words from Anathema where she stipulates her doubt is specifically focussed on what they do about Adam (“I don’t know about that any more.”).

A couple of sentences from Crowley’s drunken soliloquy (about how he and “the guys” were going to ask about job conditions and career progression opportunities).

The stage directions have the entire bar taking on the impression of an old polaroid after Aziraphale’s arrival.

A line from Crowley about him trying to get drunk.

We were supposed to see a shot of more of Aziraphale’s notes (not just the map).

Mrs. Ormerod was supposed to be carrying an umbrella that had blown inside out. She was also scripted to make reference to it as “cheap rubbish”.

A shot of War dismounting her bike and entering the café.

A shot of the café door opening for Famine’s entrance to the café.

Famine offering War a greeting (“Hello”), rather than just greeting her by name.

War was scripted to express the length of time it’s taken for the four of them to get together (“finally”).

A line from Famine where he expresses relief that a thunderstorm is on the way.

The stage directions state that Madame Tracy is irritated at Mrs. Ormerod’s interjections as she “goes under”, but this is not apparent in the finished episode.

A few sentences from Julia where she expands upon her mother’s death.

A line from Madame Tracy as Aziraphale starts to take possession of her body where she announces that something is “coming through”.

Aziraphale was originally scripted to ask if Madame Tracy’s clients spoke English in two languages in addition to German – French and Mandarin.

A couple of extra words from Mrs. Ormerod as she expresses her shock than Ron is actually there in the room with her.

A sentence from Mrs. Ormerod where she comments that she was sitting down at the wedding.

The stage directions have Madame Tracy’s eyes rolling up as Ron prepares to lose his temper.

A line from Ron about him not caring about kimchi.

The lights were originally scripted to be turned back on by Aziraphale (as Madame Tracy) snapping his fingers.

The kettle was supposed to be whistling as we join Madame Tracy in the kitchen, making tea.

Crowley was supposed to mark the changes he made to the design of the M25 on the diagram as he gave his speech.

A line spoken by the audience of Crowley’s speech.

A second shot of Aziraphale’s reflection in a mirror as Shadwell enters the kitchen.

We were supposed to be able to hear people shouting in the background on the M25.

A line from Crowley where he talks himself through the route he needs to take to get to Tadfield.

The stage directions have rain flooding down the windows at the call centre (there aren’t even any windows in the finished episode, let alone rain).

According to the script, we were supposed to have a panning shot of the cubicles with their occupants in the call centre.

The script has the lights getting darker in the call centre as Hastur materialises out of the phone lines.

There was supposed to be a shot of Aziraphale (as Madame Tracy) crossing his fingers when he tells Shadwell how many nipples Adam has.

A line from Crowley about not having to complete any compliance paperwork anymore.

A line from Hastur about him not liking jokes.

The stage directions have a police roadblock on the hard shoulder that Crowley has to drive around.

Hastur’s hands were supposed to catch on fire before he tells Crowley to stop.

The stage directions have the flames dissipating inside the car after he gives the Bentley a pep talk about it not burning.

Crowley’s suit was supposed to be “interestingly ripped” during the extended close-up of him in the burning Bentley.

Buddy Holly’s “Everyday” was supposed to be playing as Crowley drives through the wall of fire.

The script had a moment of very eerie silence immediately after we see all four of the Horsemen proceeding down the highway, towards Adam’s voice.

A couple of sentences at the end of Adam’s speech about which parts of the world each of The Them will get to rule over, mostly just expanding on what they’ll all do.

The stage directions have Pepper stroking Dog after Adam’s speech about who gets which bit of the world to lord over.

A line from Adam that spells out more distinctly where his territory will be, which sounds suspiciously like the territory he gave to Anathema when he first met her.

The stage directions have Dog whining in a very distinctive way just after Pepper tells Adam they don’t want to go anywhere.

A line from Adam where he points out that The Them are now able to talk after he tells them they can go anywhere they want.

A line from Brian where he asks Adam what’s going to happen next after Adam tells them all he doesn’t care.

The stage directions have a loud crash noise that announces Adam’s presence as he hangs over The Them on the cricket green.

The script gives a description of Adam desperately looking from one member of The Them to the next, getting increasingly panicked.

Dog shaking his head when Adam begs them all to come back.

The stage directions have Hogback Wood shaking during Adam’s inhuman scream.

Pepper demanding that Brian hit Adam with the cricket bat before he can fully awaken.

Pepper signalling that Brian should in fact not hit Adam with the cricket bat after she sees Dog licking his face.

According to the script, we should see Anathema packing up her cards and the elusive bread knife as she’s getting ready to leave Jasmine Cottage.

A line from Aziraphale about how fast Madame Tracy’s scooter is (not) going.

A line from Madame Tracy about the speeds her scooter is actually capable of achieving.

The stage directions have the scooter wobbling as immediately before it is encompassed in the blue light that signifies Aziraphale’s miracle.

According to the script, we should have seen R.P. Tyler leaving his house with Shutzi.

A sentence from Anathema where she gives Newt directions to the airbase.

The stage directions have War giving a cursory glance around her surroundings before she becomes so dismissive of them.

According to the script, we were supposed to see Anathema becoming more “witchier” in appearance once she and Newt arrive at the airbase.

Anathema’s acknowledgement of a broken security camera, which has been crushed by the fallen tree.

The stage directions indicate that a long shot of the weather during the exchange between The Them and R.P. Tyler would have been desirable.

The soldier repairing the computer was supposed to be doing so lying on the floor.

A shot of the Horsemen looking less human immediately following God’s voiceover speech about them initiating worldwide nuclear war.

There are console lights described in the stage directions for the scene that takes place in a North American nuclear bunker.

According to the script, the commander in the North American bunker was supposed to tap the control panel after the switches had flipped.

A montage of missiles launching immediately after the Commander asks to speak to Stratcom cyber command.

The stage directions describe a “SUDDEN CRASH DOWN” as the Bentley comes to a stop.

According to the script, Agnes’s book was supposed to be little more than a blackened lump of charcoal by the time Crowley arrives at the airbase.

The airbase alarm was supposed to be triggered during a shot of the Guard hitting a red alert button.

A shot of the guard raising his gun at Madame Tracy/Aziraphale and Shadwell.

A line from Famine about the tardiness of the Antichrist.

A shot of The Them dismounting their bikes as they arrive at the communications bunker.

A line from Brian about how they always lose whenever they go up against adults.

The stage directions have an alarm and a red flashing light being heard/seen across the airbase compound as the soldiers approach The Them on the tarmac.

A shot of the Horsemen responding to Adam’s announcement of his presence.

“Everyday” rendition leading us into the end credits.

As with the large changes, I think all of these cuts have been pretty expertly made. I mostly don’t feel like their presence would have given us anything that would we haven’t gotten from elsewhere, despite them all feeling like they are in keeping with the general tone of the show. I have two exceptions to this. The first is the description from Adam about what his territory is going to be. True, it’s an exact repetition of what he describes as his “world” to Anathema in episode 3, but isn’t that kind of the point? He could have the entire world, but all he wants is this little patch that he thinks he’s already king of. The notion that he truly loves his little life is something that gets hammered so hard in the book, but I think is significantly underplayed in the show, and this would have gone a long way to rectifying that.

The second of my two exceptions is Crowley calling Aziraphale’s name after he’s knocked down. Not the part where he puts his glasses back on – I think it’s desperately important that we see his eyes during his ragey speech. But the part where he calls out Aziraphale’s name? That would have broken my heart, in the gloriously safe angst-y way that this show does so well. Don’t get me wrong, David does an exceptional job in that scene: it must have been incredibly difficult to deliver that heartfelt speech with everything else that was going on at the time, and my heart is breaking by the end of it anyway. There’s just something about the idea of him calling Aziraphale’s name one last time, mostly in despair but with a little bit of dying hope. Aaaand I’m crying. Actually crying as I write this. THAT’S why I miss it.

That’s it for this part. Additions and changes coming up in Part 2! As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you in the next one!

[offender42085]

Post 1033

“You bragged about the guns being hidden in the walls of your home.” --Judge

Adam Montgomery, New Hampshire inmate 66018, born 1990, incarceration intake in August 2023 at age 33, scheduled for parole consideration December 2036, with conditional release scheduled for December 2051

Theft of Firearm, Receiving Stolen Property, Armed Career Criminal. Firearm Possession

On August 7, 2023, Adam Montgomery, 33, the father of long-missing and presumed dead 5-year-old New Hampshire girl Harmony Montgomery, insisted he did not murder his daughter during his sentencing hearing on several firearm-related offenses.

“I did not kill my daughter Harmony,” the defendant said when asked if he would like to address the court. “I’m looking forward to my upcoming trial so I can refute those offensive claims.”

New Hampshire Superior Court Justice Amy Messer, for her part, said the court was not going to consider the murder case – before handing the defendant a sentence in excess of 32 years – at the bare minimum.

In June 2023, Adam Montgomery was convicted on two counts of theft by unauthorized taking for stealing a rifle and a shotgun from a friend’s home in Manchester. He was also convicted on two counts of receiving stolen property for retaining the guns and a count each of being an armed career criminal, for possessing the rifle, and for possessing the shotgun. An armed career criminal is defined as having been convicted of three or more qualifying felonies.

The judge gave the defendant 15-30 year sentences for each armed career criminal offense – and ordered that those sentences will run consecutively, or, one after another. The court also imposed lesser sentences of 7 1/2 to 15 years for each of the two theft charges – which will run concurrently to one another, or, at the same time, but consecutively to the armed career criminal offenses.

In sum, Adam Montgomery could spend just shy of 90 years in prison, altogether, for gun crimes.

Two lone bright spots for the defendant were noted by Justice Messer. He will be credited 580 days in prison for the time he spent in pretrial detention, and five years of his theft sentences could be suspended if he maintains good behavior in prison.

The state did not seek prison time for the receiving stolen goods charges.

The defendant originally faced eight gun-related offenses in an April 2022 indictment that stem from the theft of the two guns in question.

Defense attorney Caroline L. Smith implored the court to impose mandatory minimum sentences of 10 years for the armed career criminal offenses.

“Here the crime as presented by the state was a crime of opportunity, it did not involve violence, although anyone would say theft is a level of violence, but we don’t have an assault of anybody, we don’t have physical harm to anybody,” the defendant’s attorney argued. “This is a crime of opportunity based on an addiction and to fuel that addiction.”

Smith went on to say that her client did not commit a crime that involved an attempt to steal guns and fire them on someone else but, rather, in order to sell them for “money for drugs or for drugs themselves.”

Those efforts, in the end, did not pan out.

Adam Montgomery’s defense attorney also took note of the murder trial looming in the background.

“It plays a major role and it shouldn’t,” she said – arguing that even the basic fact that her client was facing gun charges was because law enforcement may have been looking for “leverage” against the defendant and/or his estranged wife.

Justice Messer sought to ease those fears before issuing her formal ruling.

“The state is not requesting that the court consider your other pending charges here,” she said, addressing the defendant directly. “I want to tell you that the court is not.”

“But the court notes that there are a significant number of aggravating factors here,” the judge went on. “These predicate offenses are particularly egregious. The guns were stolen, there was a child in the house, the guns were maintained while you yourself had children in the home.”

There was buying and selling back and forth of guns, the court added, including to a convicted sex offender.

“You bragged about the guns being hidden in the walls of your home,” Messer continued – rejecting the defense’s contention that this was just a case of drug addict gone bad. “The gun violence has taken a toll on our community, particularly the young people here.”

Adam Montgomery was also ordered to have no contact with the people he stole the guns from.

Before the sentence was issued, a prosecutor chimed in to say that the state also looks forward to Adam Montgomery’s upcoming murder trial.

3g

[hauntedlovewasteland]

The first time I came out was in 2009/2010, I was 11/12 and came out as a lesbian (I was born a female at birth) I knew from a young age I was attracted almost solely to women and not men and from a young age I knew I was different from my peers. I have always been someone that has been outspoken about myself and sure of who I am. I was also struggling with my gender identity for a long time. I was more boyish than the other girls I knew. On most of the major holidays and birthdays from age 5-9 i exclusively asked my parents to call me a boy name I had chosen. My mom had no problem with doing this, my dad on the other hand not so much. I remember that from between the ages of 10-16 I had at least 6 different conversations with my dad (mom died in 2007) about how I felt more like a boy, I didn’t like looking like a girl and I hated my birth name (my birth name was Candace Michelle) I didn’t feel like my name fit me. I didn’t feel comfortable in my body and I hated it. It wasn’t until the year 2014 that he finally accepted that I wasn’t just a tomboy, that I was transgender. I struggled with my mental health for many years, I struggled with suicidal ideation and more. It was January of 2015 the first time I went into the mental hospital because I was so close to ending my life that is what pushed my dad to somewhat accept me. We did research, found a therapist who was a gender identity therapist who would take me on as a client. We found an endocrinologist in my area that would accept someone under 18 to medically transition. I didn’t start my medical transition until 9/15/15, I was 17 and I was in my senior year of high school. It was one of the hardest bust most important year of my life. For first part of my transition and prior to it my dad was adamant about not legally changing my name for me. He said I would have to do it myself when I turned 18, but luckily my doctor who was helping my transition kept pestering my dad about how with my name still legally being a “girls name” the blood work I was getting done would be tested the way a woman’s would be and not the way a man’s would be and that was a no no, it wasn’t until January of 2016 my dad finally caved and helped me legally change my name to Isaac Michael. I think he did it in part of being annoyed by the doctor. I remember when we discussed changing my name legally I asked him if he wanted to choose my name, he had told me that it was my choice to choose my name that felt most me but he had asked me to make my middle name the male version of my birth name because had I been born biologically male that was more than likely going to be my middle name. So I did just that, I let him choose my middle name and luckily it went pretty well with the first name I chose. I was so grateful for this because this way I was going to be graduating as Isaac instead of Candace. Today I have been on Testosterone for 8 years and 9 months. I am so proud of myself and the journey I’ve been on. I am comfortable with my body for the most part and I’ve loved seeing how masculine I’ve become and being able to smile looking at myself and not hate what I see in the mirror. Here are some photos of my childhood, my teenage years before testosterone and than each year anniversary of being on testosterone

[abysswatchers420]

1. saburo likes celeste for her honesty and bluntness

2. chantal loves neil breen movies

3. chan works roughly ~50hrs a week, but she doesnt notice bc shes in the net 75% of the time playing w virtual pets

4. cel has committed vehicular manslaughter maybe 4 times, but its usually a goon she runs over so. no real loss to the earth

5. cel asked adam to open a jar of marinara sauce for her, and when he tries, he shatters it. cel just smiles :^)

6. a client once pissed cel off so bad, she soaked a bunch of cottonballs in a bag of rancid milk, then took tweezers and strategically placed them around their vehicle so they couldnt be found. IN the dead of summer

[percontaion-points]

Client No 5 chapters 11 & 12

This book review contains discussions of sw; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 11

“What do you want, Todd?” I snapped.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to remind you how good we were. I helped you that night.”

For sure the relationship between Todd and Ally is filed under “he might not hit you but…” Yes, Ally is working under him of her own free will. But look me in the eye and tell me that Todd constantly pushing her to have sex with him, to go meet more clients than she wants, to go see a client that she’s said she will not be servicing again… Is a healthy relationship. 

I smiled. My friends were certainly unconventional, but I loved them for it.

Chapter 11 summary: At home, Ally tries to sleep but can’t. So she gets up to get some warm milk, and finds Jamie dressed to go out. She says that she’s going to a party with Amy, Todd, and Adam, and that Ally should come along, too. That it would help get her out of her funk. Ally agrees, and gets ready. 

When they arrive at Adam’s apartment, the other three had already started. What happens next is… well. It’s a goddamned orgy. I don’t know what anybody was expecting. 

But then Todd tries to fuck Ally, and she has a nervous breakdown. She runs into the bathroom, but Todd comes to try and talk to her. 

The two of them end up fucking in the other room. Ally uses Todd to get over every bad relationship that she’s been in. The guy named Nick who broke her heart. Widower Robert. Scott. When they finish, Ally feels more like herself, like her mask is back in place. 

She looks at herself in the mirror and decides that she’s ready to face Scott in the morning. He called her a whore, because that’s what she is. 

She slips out, leaving the others to their fun. 

Chapter 12

He dipped his fingers into my [vaginal] wetness and swirled them around. He pumped them in and out a few times, and I moaned to give him a show. 

Then, to my surprise, his fingers moved higher and he started spreading the moisture over my anus. It appeared he did want ass after all— literally. 

I wasn’t opposed to anal sex. I’d done it plenty of times before; I was just surprised because most guys would start with the girly parts and move to the ass after they were worked up. 

“I’m going to fuck your ass.” 

Thanks for stating the obvious! I pushed my butt a bit higher to give him better access and moaned. “Mmm, put it in me.”  

Anal sex was probably a good option for Mr. Quickie. I’d found through experience that guys could go a long time in the pussy, but anal sex was usually over much faster. I guessed that the extra tightness and pressure was too stimulating for guys to hold out for long. 

He pushed inside me slowly and I relaxed my body, letting him in. 

SHE’S LETTING HIM DO ANAL WITHOUT LUBE?! DEAR LORD, DOES THE AUTHOR KNOW HOW MUCH THAT FREAKING HURTS?!

He took my hand as we left the 21 Club, fingers laced together. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I suddenly had a boyfriend. Who was I, and where had Ally gone?

Chapter 12 summary: Ally is getting ready to go meet with Scott when Todd calls to tell her that she has a last-minute client. She’s upset, but he points out that she’s got 2 hours before that, so she has plenty of time.

So she goes to meet the guy, who wants anal. Ally thinks that the guy is a closeted gay but is too embarrassed to hire a gay escort. She thinks about asking Todd to find another guy who’ll do that, as she doesn’t think Adam is into guys like that. Not even gay for pay. 

That appointment made her a little late for her meeting with Scott. Exactly as everybody had predicted, he’s there to beg for her love. But he doesn’t want her to be an escort anymore. Ally obviously says no, that she’s doing this because she loves to fuck, and not because she’s hard-up for money or a job. 

It really boils down to the fact that Ally is scared of being hurt again. In her opinion, you either have a messy break-up, or one of you dies. And either way, the only thing that’s left is so much pain you wish you were dead. 

Despite Ally wanting to leave, and to never see Scott again, he somehow convinces her to be his girlfriend. And that she shouldn’t take any clients when he’s in town. Ally doesn’t like that last bit, and points out that he’d simply move to New York full-time and force her to stop working if the two of them want to be together. He insists that he wouldn’t do that. Ally does agree, but inwardly winces over how she’s going to have to pick up the slack during the rest of the week. 

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch2 (JJK, KNJ)

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: M (18+) whole fic, this chapter PG-13 (I guess)

Warnings: some swearing in this chapter, nothing explicit

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Unfortunately, you have developed a massive crush on your new boss. Even more unfortunately, your equally attractive coworker is also harboring massive crush on your boss. AKA Jungkook and reader both pine for big, sexy brain Namjoon. 

A/N: Aaand here she is! Chapter 2! It took me a while to finalize this draft, mostly because I was on a trip with my bff, but also because I was, well, procrastinating. I don't do well without a deadline, so I'm going to try to post a chapter every week on Saturday until the fic is done! Look out for Chapter 3 in a week :)

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6

Your newest client sits across a large conference room table from you, Namjoon, and Jungkook, flanked by two impossibly large bodyguards holding equally tiny dogs. She’s one of the most popular singer-songwriters of the moment.

An indie artist filed a lawsuit claiming that your client copied lyrics verbatim and stole the melody from a song of his after attending an intimate showcase. To your ears, the songs sound vaguely similar, but you’re no music expert. 

In the press though, the indie artist has spun it as a David and Goliath story. The court of public opinion is firmly on his side already. 

“It’s a bullshit case,” says your client, rolling her eyes. “There’s only so many ways you can string the words ‘I,’ ‘love,’ ‘you,’ ‘so,’ and ‘much’ together in a song. And everyone knows that all modern pop songs have the same four chord progressions anyway.” 

Namjoon nods, taking notes on his legal pad. “We’ll take the case, but there’s no guarantee the judge is going to rule in our favor. These plagiarism cases can be very unpredictable.” 

“Right, but you guys are the best right?” She takes one of the fluffy dogs into her lap and starts petting it. The dog makes direct eye contact with you as it starts to pant.  

Namjoon lets out a little laugh. “We are, but we’re not miracle workers. We can’t guarantee a win even in the simplest case. But we do guarantee our best with some of the best lawyers in the field.” 

He caps this off with a little smile, one that makes his eyes look kind and his dimples pop. 

The songwriter melts a little and she honest-to-god starts twirling her hair around her finger.

“Well, if it looks like we’re not going to win the case, I’m not above settling with this guy.” 

You look over at Jungkook in confusion. She was adamant that she wouldn’t settle at the top of the meeting. He mouths back, The Namjoon Effect.

Ah. Yes. You can relate.  

“Understood.” Namjoon gives her another smile as he closes his legal pad. “And unless there’s anything else you would like for us to take into consideration…?” 

“I think that’s it.” 

She gives him a coy smile as he gestures her out of the conference room. "Thank you so much for your time."

Namjoon turns to you and Jungkook once she's gone down the hallway.

“Right. What’s our angle?” 

You and Jungkook look at each other in surprise. High profile cases usually go to Namjoon and you assumed this one would too.

You only ever play the “What’s our angle?” game when the case will go to one of the junior associates. The game is simple. Whoever has the best pitch gets the case. It's a brilliant move on Namjoon's part, really. It taps into you and Jungkook's natural competition and it makes you think out of the box to win cases. You’re keeping an informal tally in the back of your planner and so far, it’s an even split. 

This time, Jungkook beats you to the draw. “We still have contacts in the music industry who can be expert witnesses. With these two songs, it’ll come down to the specific instrumentation, composition, and lyrical flow.” 

You can feel the case slipping through your fingers — you haven’t been at Bang & Associates long enough to have a long list of contacts yet and Jungkook minored in music composition in college. He has all the advantage here and he knows it. He smiles, like he’s already gotten lead on the case. 

You shake your head anyway and speak up. 

“That’s an important component to the case, definitely, but it’s not the determining factor. There’s been an increase in these types of cases, with two high-profile cases in just the last six moths and countless others that flew under the radar, and the trend I’ve seen is that the outcome depends on precedent and how IP laws fit around the specific musical particularities.” 

Jungkook clenches his jaw, his tongue playing with his lip ring. Both of you wait while Namjoon deliberates. It’s all part of the game, one that Namjoon takes seriously. He considers every facet and it takes him unbearable minutes to make a decision. You've learned to not second-guess your pitches and to be comfortable in the silence.

This time, though, you don’t have long to wait. He nods and points at you. “Good thinking. You’re taking lead on this case. Jungkook, I want you on support. Normally, I’d take this case, but I have the class-action suit on my plate, and I can’t spare Jimin or Hoseok. Bring me your complete plan by COB tomorrow. Send me a calendar invite for a time that works for both of you.” 

You want to grin and do a little victory dance, but you nod instead, in a way that you hope looks level-headed. 

“Will do. Thanks, boss.” 

Namjoon's eyebrow twitches at the title and he gives you a look you can't fully parse. He leaves the conference room with a strange two finger salute.

Jungkook gives you a disgruntled look as soon as Namjoon is out of sight. You give him a smug grin in return. This is the second case in a row you've won, and you can officially tally yourself ahead by one.

“Congrats, I guess,” he says as he goes to leave.

You reach out a hand to stop him, your fingers brushing his sleeve. He looks down at your hand like it offends him and all his ancestors before him. He's sulking again.

“Do you have any meetings now?” It's impossible to deal with him when he's like this, but you have a quick turnaround on this case, so it leaves you no choice.

“Nothing on the schedule,” he says.

“Let’s meet now, then. Come to my office.” 

He follows you and sits in one your guest chairs, slumping down, spreading his legs long and wide. One of his legs bounces up and down. He doesn’t meet your eyes.

You lean back against your desk instead of sitting behind it. 

“Given you’re the music expert here, what’s your opinion on the songs? Do you think we have a good chance of winning? Just based on the songs themselves.” 

He shrugs. “Right now, it’s a toss-up. I’ll have to take a closer listen to really be able to say. But I have a couple of friends in the music industry who we’ve used before as expert witnesses. They’ll break it down to the nitty gritty.” 

“Great, get me those names and the specifics of how they can help with the case by the end of the day. Contact them if you can to see if they're willing to be our witnesses. I’ll take a closer look at the caselaw and the suit itself and get the memo for Namjoon together tomorrow morning. Unless you can think of something from the precedent perspective?” 

“Seems like you’ve got that part covered.” His tongue pokes out into his cheek, still not looking at you.

“Okay, then. I think that’s it. Maybe we can chat tomorrow before lunch to make sure we have all the bases covered.” 

He doesn’t respond, just gives you the barest of nods and gets up to head towards the door. 

“Jeon.” 

He turns in your doorway to look back at you. You’re still leaning against your desk, arms crossed. He takes you in, his eyes trailing from your heels all the way up to meet your eyes. Your breath hitches as his expression shifts to something darker. Hungrier.  

“Should I let you win next time so I don’t have to deal with you acting like a whiny little baby?” 

He huffs out a little laugh and rolls his eyes. The look from a second ago is gone. 

“If you did, I’d call Area 51 to make sure there was no extraterrestrial activity in the area because you’d for sure be an alien in disguise.” 

He leaves, the sound of his soft chuckle trailing behind him. It takes a second for your breath to return to normal. 

You and Jungkook go to court after a couple weeks of trying to negotiate a settlement, armed with files, documents and expert opinions. Namjoon takes time from his class-action suit to supervise. 

The case drags on for a week. Photographers swarm the court. They snap a picture of you, Namjoon, and Jungkook on the way to the courtroom the third day and the picture goes viral. It’s the first time any of your cases have been in the public eye like this. Even though you’re the defense, the internet goes crazy, with endless “Mommy? Sorry, Mommy? Sorry? Daddy?” memes. 

Whenever you’re in the office, you get playful comments from your coworkers. Jimin swears he didn’t mean to include the firm-wide distribution list in his email to the PR team about the photo. You don’t believe him, but you can’t really be too mad at him. 

It’s one of the best pictures you’ve ever seen of yourself. The three of you look like a promo picture for a legal drama on cable TV, with you in the middle, holding your own between your stupid-hot coworkers. 

Jungkook looks like a federal agent, his all-black suit fitted in the right places. He carries a shiny leather briefcase and the glimpse of the tattoos on the hand holding the briefcase is primarily what has the internet in shambles. 

Namjoon, in a navy suit and tie, looks like the hottest politician you’ve ever seen. His brown hair sweeps away from his face, lethal in wire-frame glasses. 

“Damn, girl, you look hot.” Your best friend, Nina, looks at the photo on her phone. You’re at brunch at your favorite cafe the weekend after the trial ends. “Aren’t you glad I convinced you to get that suit?” 

The court ruled in your favor, and your client — graciously — didn’t counter-sue the independent artist. Instead, she offered to have him feature on her latest single, so the royalties can cover the legal fees that he’s now responsible for paying. 

You’re sitting in the patio, an umbrella shading you from the unseasonably hot late fall sun. The rickety patio table groans under the weight of poached eggs, bacon, smoked salmon, fruit, and the best pancakes in the city. The mimosas go down easy. Life is good.

“I was running on so little sleep that day. The suit was really the saving grace.” 

You bought it on a whim on a semi-drunk post-brunch shopping trip with Nina a few weeks before you joined Bang & Associates. You balked at the price, but Nina reminded you of the massive pay increase you were about to get, and you caved. The suit fits you perfectly, with the skirt hugging in all the right places and the cropped suit jacket adding the illusion of height to your frame. You feel invincible every time you wear it. 

It’s thanks to Nina that you’re breaking out of the boring black and grey suits. She’s a local fashion influencer and runs a trendy boutique in the artsy part of town. 

“Nah, girl. The suit is the added bonus. It’s you in that photo totally rocking it.” 

“I wanna get that framed.” 

Nina laughs and clinks her glass against yours. You’re both a little drunk on mimosas and sunshine. “I’ll do it for Christmas.” 

You’re pleasantly buzzed when your post-meal lattes come out. Nina chokes as she goes to take a sip, her eyes wide. 

“Is that…” 

She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. You follow her gaze and thankfully, your cup is firmly on the table because you would have otherwise snorted coffee out of your nose. 

A sweaty and glistening Namjoon and Jungkook cross the wooden patio to go inside the cafe. They must have been running in the park across the street because they're dressed in exercise clothes, both in sleeveless tops and shorts that leave little to the imagination.

Namjoon is practically glowing. His shirt clings to his chest, outlining muscle you didn’t know existed until this moment. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair as they walk across the patio, biceps flexing. 

Your mouth hangs open. Muscle definition, on top of everything else?

Jungkook’s tattoos are on full display. You’ve seen part of them before, when he rolls his sleeves up at work, but you had no idea he had a full sleeve, bold and colorful. His sweaty hair sticks to his face, the waves even more pronounced. 

The spell breaks as soon as they disappear into the cafe. You and Nina exhale at the same time. 

“That’s indecent,” you breathe. 

“Holy mother of God,” she mutters. “How do you get any work done around the office?”

“They’re usually not prancing around half-naked.”

“I want to put my hands on their chests and squeeze.” She puts her hands out and makes grabby hands. 

You let out a squeak and swat her across the table. “Nina! Why would you put that image in my head? How am I going to get through meetings? I’m not gonna be able to look them in the eye.” 

“I would ask why you haven’t slept with them yet, but I know you’re too proper to shit where you eat.” She shakes her head. “College you would have been all over that.” 

“Namjoon is practically a monk,” you say morosely.

Nina chokes on her coffee again. “Oh my god, you actually like him.” 

A tiny, pitiful wail escapes you. “I mean, you just saw him, Neen. He looks like that and he’s nice and smart. It’s like if a man like Namjoon exists, he ruins all other men, really.” 

“What about e-boy?” 

You snort. “He’s cute, but he’s in l—“ 

“Cute?” Your friend looks at you incredulously. “That’s the understatement of the year. I want that man to pin me against the wall and — shit. They’re coming this way. Quick. Pretend we’re talking about my shop.” 

You swallow your coffee nervously. “Um. Tell me about the clothes you set aside for me?” 

“Oh!” She perks up, eyes shining. “Remind me to send you pictures. I just got the most gorgeous dress that would be great for your holiday party!” 

“Already? It’s not even November yet.” 

Nina rolls her eyes. “Your firm’s holiday party is the event in the law world. I’m not even in law and I’ve known about it since grad school.” 

You hear your name called, and your heart rate picks up. Your coworkers walk towards your table with iced coffees in their hands. From what you know about their usual coffee orders, Namjoon’s is an iced americano and Jungkook’s is some ungodly sweet concoction involving every syrup they have available. They look less flushed now coming out of the air conditioned cafe. 

“Come here often?” 

You roll your eyes. “Terrible line, Jeon. Working out?”

“Yeah, I live a couple blocks down and Namjoon wanted a running buddy today.”

“Sunshine is good for your health,” says Namjoon. “God knows we don’t get nearly enough when we’re in the office.” 

You wouldn’t know it from the way his skin glows golden in the sun.

“Oh, we must be neighbors,” you say to Jungkook before you get stuck ogling Namjoon’s exposed skin. “I’m a few blocks that way too.” 

You can feel Nina’s eyes boring hole in your skull. “By the way, this is my best friend Nina. Nina, this is Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon’s my boss, and Jungkook is the other junior litigation associate.” 

“Oh yeah, I thought I recognized you,” says Nina.

“The picture?” asks Jungkook. 

“The picture,” you confirm. “I kind of want to get it framed so I can show my grandchildren someday.” You put on an old lady voice. “‘Look kids, granny used to be a hotshot lawyer.’”

A thrum of satisfaction runs through you when they laugh at your joke. Namjoon’s eyes push up into half-moons and Jungkook’s nose scrunches in the most adorable way.

“Anyway, we won’t keep you.” Namjoon places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and steers him toward the exit. Jungkook inhales at the contact, and his cheeks redden a shade. You wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t watching him. “Have a great rest of your weekend.” 

“Enjoy the sunshine,” you say with a wave. 

“See you at work!” Jungkook calls over his shoulder. 

As soon as they’re out of view, you and Nina slump over. 

“Enjoy the sunshine? Really?” You bury your face in your hands. 

Nina pickup her coffee cup and puts it back down without taking a sip. “Why doesn’t my boyfriend have dimples. Why do I even have a stupid boyfriend?” 

The following week, you find the photo framed on your desk, wrapped in a simple ribbon.

So you can show your future grandchildren, reads the note. There’s no signature. 

It can only be one of two people and you decide not to say anything to either of them, you just simply put the picture up in one of the empty spots on your bookshelf. You don’t want to know how you would feel if you knew for certain who gifted it to you, and what it would mean for those hypothetical and very unprofessional feelings you definitely aren’t feeling already. 

That doesn’t stop you from tucking the note in the back pocket of your planner anyway. Just in case. 

A few weeks later, you’re wading your way through a series of ownership bylaws for the city’s pro basketball team. You lost the “What’s our angle?” game, and the case went to Jungkook. He actually fist-pumped in victory when he got lead. This means you’ve been sitting on at your desk for the past week, with fuzzy slippers and yellow-light glasses on as you scroll through endless PDF’s to find your client an out from ownership without having to pay a massive fine. 

A knock on your office door breaks your concentration. It takes your eyes a second to focus on something further than your computer screen. Namjoon leans against the doorjamb, coat on.

“Had lunch yet?” 

“No, I was going to wait until after our meeting.” Your computer pings helpfully with a calendar reminder and your stomach follows up with a growl. Breakfast consisted of a sad piece of toast and a latte too many hours ago, and you were too nervous for your performance review to even think about a snack. 

Namjoon chuckles. “Let’s do this over lunch, then. I’m starving, too.” 

You draw your coat around you when you step out of the office. The temperature has dropped decidedly in the past few days. No more sunny autumn days, just the impending chill of a snow-filled winter. You wrap your arms around your stomach in the pretext of warding off the chill.

In reality, you stomach is doing flips, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re hungry or because you’re nervous for your performance review. Objectively, you know you’re doing well. You’re efficient and ruthless in court, but when it comes to performance reviews, you’ve been blindsided before.

It’s almost inevitable that you end up at Cat’s Pajamas. It’s close to the office, they serve delicious food, and the owner, a slim, quiet man named Yoongi, is a longtime friend of Namjoon’s. You’re in there at least once a week, whether for a client meeting or just as an excuse to get out of the office for lunch. Whenever you’re there with your coworkers, you get a little treat sent from the kitchen, usually one of the cookies that Jin, Yoongi’s business partner, makes fresh every morning.

Yoongi stands at the host stand and greets Namjoon with a handshake. 

"Just you two today?" he asks, eyes flitting between you and Namjoon.

Namjoon nods. “How’s business?”

“I think your firm is keeping us afloat,” says Yoongi with a serious face. You think he’s joking.

He leads you to the back of the restaurant. It’s unusually crowded today, with office workers sheltering from the first cold snap of the season. 

Namjoon gestures for you to go first. You don’t know if it’s your imagination, but as you walk through the restaurant, you think you feel a whisper of a touch against your upper back, fingertips gently guiding you through the maze of tables. A shiver runs down your back, and you keep your eyes forward as you walk. You don't look back to confirm.

You're off balance already, and knowing that Namjoon is the type to guide you with a gentle touch would tip you over into the deep end.

Yoongi seats you in your usual booth. This probably means good things for your review, you tell yourself. The booth is secluded enough, but if there was anything serious to discuss, you would hope your boss would have the sense to have this meeting behind closed doors. You place your orders as you sit.

Namjoon takes out a paper form from his briefcase when Yoongi walks away. You must look worried because he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Just an HR form to document the performance review. It’s dreadfully overdue, but it’s my fault, and I apologize for that. This was supposed to be your three-month review, but we're now at what, five months?"

He makes a face and starts filling out the top of the form. Your heartbeat speeds up and you play with the hem of the tablecloth under the table. Does that face mean good things or bad things? 

He looks up at you with a smile. Good things? 

“Unless you have anything to bring up with me, this is going to be quick. So far, I’m pleased with the work that you’re doing for the firm. Even though you’ve only been with us for a few months, you’ve integrated excellently with the rest of the team. Everyone has nothing but great things to say about working with you, so we can mark all these boxes as exceptional…”

You let out a sigh of relief as he concentrates on ticking boxes and filling out comments. All the tension you had stored up in your shoulders releases as you get the verbal confirmation that your performance has been up to par. 

“And I think that’s it. Anything you want to say to me on the record?” 

An image of Nina making grabby hands rises unbidden, and you have to fight to keep a straight face. 

“I don’t think so. I’ve been happy working here. The work is rewarding and I like your management style. I appreciate that you let us junior associates take ownership of our work and empower us to make our own decisions and mistakes.” 

“Ah, that’s too kind,” he says with a bashful smile, waving away your comments. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your time here." He pauses. "Is that all? No HR complaints to be filed against Jimin?” 

You laugh and shake your head.

“If anything does come up, you know my door is always open.” He looks at you with a serious look. “And I mean that. If you ever need to talk about anything, you can come to me.”

“I appreciate that, boss.” 

His expression flickers at the title, but he gives you a wide smile as he lifts his water glass in a toast. “Then, here’s to a successful working relationship and more wins in court.” 

You clink your glass against his, unable to stop the grin that spreads across your face. 

Lunch arrives soon after and you spend the rest of the hour chatting about an exhibit you both attended at the modern art museum. You get the sense that’s where his passion lies by the way he lights up when he talks about the artist’s specific choice of material for her sculptures and what that conveys about her underlying message on global warming. He makes you promise that you’ll go to the artist’s pop-up exhibit during the Christmas markets. 

You're amazed that he has time for anything outside of work. You barely do, and he’s at the office just as much as you are these days. 

It strikes you that this is the first time you've sat down with Namjoon for a one-on-one meal. Every other time has been a client meeting or after-work drinks with the team. The conversation flows easily and you feel like you could keep talking to him forever.

By the end of the meal, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and your heart hurts a little because why did you have to meet Namjoon at this stage in your life? You excuse yourself to the restroom, but head to the host stand instead to pay the bill. 

Yoongi waves you off before you can say anything, not even looking up from what he’s writing. “Namjoon’s already paid for it. You’re all good.”

“Oh.” You’re elbow deep in your bag searching for your wallet.

“You know, he’ll never say anything because he’s your boss and all, so you’ll have to make the first move.” 

“Excuse me?”

You freeze before you can extricate yourself from your bag. Is it your imagination, or did he really say what you think he said? You don't know, your heartbeat is so loud in your ears.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up from his notebook, eyebrow raised, looking at you like you’re an idiot. You can feel the tips of your ears turning red. “It’s obvious he likes you. I've seen the way he looks at you whenever you're all in here. And you like him, if I’m not reading you wrong. All of his coworkers are head over heels for him. So you have to make the first move unless you want to be in this—“ he gestures vaguely at you “— forever. He’s a brilliant lawyer, but an idiot when it comes to relationships.” 

“I’m really not sure what you mean.” Your voice comes out in a squeak. You clear your throat and change the subject. “Where’s the restroom?” 

“I think you’ve been here enough times to know where the restroom is.” 

You can't even come up with a retort, you just walk away, cheeks flaming. If Yoongi can tell, everyone probably can.

And yes, you do know exactly where the restroom is.

A/N: Ok my friends! Remember when I said it was slow burn? Fun things should start to happen next chapter 👀 Again, I don't know anything about The Law, so if you do and you see something wrong in this fic, no you didn't, it's my fictional universe and yes this is how the The Law works in my fantasy land thank you. This is the energy I'm bringing to this fic and all my writing, so... yeah, I’d love feedback if you have any, but feel no obligation. Hope you like it ~

©sowoozoo-7 2023

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[evilwriter37]

(Book details under the poll.)

Having a lot of trouble choosing which book to read, but these are my top 3. Help me out!

They Both Die at the End

Author: Adam Silvera

Summary: On September 5, a little after midnight, Death-Cast calls Mateo Torrez and Rufus Emeterio to give them some bad news: They’re going to die today.

Mateo and Rufus are total strangers, but, for different reasons, they’re both looking to make a new friend on their End Day. The good news: There’s an app for that. It’s called the Last Friend, and through it, Rufus and Mateo are about to meet up for one last great adventure—to live a lifetime in a single day.

You Came Back a Stranger

Author: Allen Moya

Summary: If life becomes unbearable, the Permanent Companionship Service offers a second chance.

The Permanent Housing program consists of a long-term training where the trainee will learn how to satisfy whoever buys the rights to their personhood in exchange for a life full of luxury and leisure, rid of any type of responsibility and any memories of the life before the program.

P.C.S. guarantees clients their products have signed and consented to be an active and willing participant of the program. But reality isn’t as marketable as fantasy.

Albus Serra, a 17-year-old boy, surrenders himself to the program in hopes he will be able to forget and leave his tragic life behind. However, life won’t allow him to run away from his sins that easily.

Cottonwood

Author: R. Lee Smith

Summary: They never meant to come to Earth. They were never allowed to leave...

(Can’t find much of a summary anywhere, but I heard it’s alien/human erotica.)

[nibblette]

My Favorite Pynch fics

Inspired by @kelliealtogether, 10 of my favorite TRC/Pynch fics (and some honorable mentions) for TRC making it to 10,000 fics posted on Ao3. I didn’t realize until I made the list how many BDSM Pynch fics I really knew and loved. So be warned, lol.

1. Like @kelliealtogether my favorite pynch fic of all time is “we all fill up with time”

by Interropunct. Such great writing and emotions! The BDSM scenes are so creative and well written, just amazingly constructed! And hotttttt!!!Consent is emphasized! Ronan lives in a named building (the Brownstone) with Chainsaw the chicken in NYC! Adam has made it as a big shot lawyer with the dustless modern apartment, with its secret bedroom full of plants! Gansey, Ronan and Noah have a super strong friendship bond! Highly recommend this fic!

2. Another Interropunct fic, the SW AU, “The kids aren’t alright.

Part 1 is “blessed be the boys” is young SW Adam’s POV where Ronan becomes his main client. Part 2 is “put your curse in reverse” from client Ronan’s POV. The writing is just so great and I marvel that Interropunct published these fics in 2015 before The Raven King even came out. The morphing of Adam’s and Ronan’s relationship from anonymous transaction to boyfriends is so delicious! Ronan’s angst over his dreaming is what draws him to visit a SW and continue. (CW though since later in the fic it’s revealed by Adam that he was only 17 yo when he started SW on his own)

3. Man of Masks by EtoileGarden

(CW for SA) A very inventive take on the slow burn where the kink/sex comes before the romantic relationship. The feels! The scenes! The longing! (All the characters are aged up) Ronan comes to Adam after being assaulted by Kavinsky during their meeting for drugs/sex/Ronan’s punishment. Adam convinces Ronan to come to him for submisssion/pain/“punishment” instead. Adam surprises Ronan by setting boundaries and emphasizing consent. Ronan is already in love with Adam but it takes a while for Adam to realize his feelings for Ronan, despite the increasingly sexual and emotional nature their kink relationship takes.

4. And the Forest Began to Sing by rootingformistopheles.

A short and sweet and hot smut fic. Cabeswater merges with Adam to physically please their Greywaren. Includes vine tentacles and bondage!

5. “In a hurry” by PennyByTheBlock

Adam and Ronan have a Sunday morning quickie at the Barns before work and church, respectively. It’s so hot, I’ve read it like 20 times already. It really captures the Adam/Ronan dynamic.

6. There’s No Place Like My Room by Lil_Redhead

[aces-and-angels]

5, 7, 11

hello hello beloved human🖤 a thousand thanks to you for sending these in

answers below cut:

---

5. how many wips do you have? what fandoms/pairings are they for?

currently, i'm rocking with three wips: 2 for the windverse (one of them with a sprinkle of martin x wind) and 1 for it lives within (abel x mc; i'm so sorry to this beauty that's been shelved- the loa phase is working its magic on me rn)

7. post a snippet from a wip

bc you asked about enid earlier, it's only fair that you see what i've been cooking up for her. here's the opening to 'the tale of enid'

Park & Davis; Manhattan, New York; one year ago… Every day was like clockwork. Up at 6:00 AM. Out at 7:00 AM. On the A train by 7:30 AM, iced chai in hand.  There were several stories to be told crammed inside one subway car. Epics of wannabe musicians desperate for someone to listen to their latest EP. Chronicles of broke college students rushing through assignments splayed over their laps. Legends of wide-eyed tourists ready to explore the big city. And sitting just by the sliding doors was the greatest of them all- the tale of Enid Mendoza, attorney at law.  The official workday didn’t start for another hour, which gave her just enough time to prepare for yet another deposition. The client: Randall Guzman, a 49 year old Hispanic male and owner of Guzman’s Jewelry. Over $40,000 worth of product was stolen from his shop last month, making him the latest victim of a string of armed robberies centered in the Bronx area. Not Enid’s usual clientele, but a favor is a favor.

11. do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

i'm going in order; there are times where i wish i could jump to a scene that i want to write about at that moment, but the thing between my ears is adamant that i lay out some proper groundwork first 😭

at most- i'll jot down a line/dialogue that i know i'll want to include and then start from the beginning of whatever fic i'm working on

ask game

[semper-legens]

58. How Was It For You?, by by Eve Smith

Owned?: No, library Page count: 294 My summary: Dungeons, whips, and dildos - the world of a sex worker is associated with the seedy underbelly of society. Enter 'Eve Smith', current dominatrix and former brothel worker, with her candid views on her part in the world's oldest profession. Tangles with the law, good and bad clients, and unusual requests; Eve tells all in an eye-opening view on the realities of sex work in the modern world. My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

Sorry about the fact that I keep taking unplanned hiatuses here and there - I've just got a lot of things going on, so I don't always have the time to write up books for this blog. Anyway, I'm back now, and with a really fascinating book to boot! So I saw this on the shelf at work and, with this fantastic cover design, I couldn't help but pick it up and take a look. While I, personally, am not interested in sex, I still have a bit of a fascination with the sex industry, both historical and modern. It's a backbone of society; one that often gets derided as being seedy or sleazy, but sex work is work the same as any job. My politics very much align with Eve's on this - while people can be exploited in sex work, that's the same as any other job, and the answer to it isn't to blanket criminalise sex work. If someone's been trafficked into sex work or is being exploited, they deserve the ability to go to the authorities without themself being at risk of arrest or imprisonment. With decriminialisation would come regulation, and more checks and balances to protect sex workers from harm. Anyway. Eve is a very eloquent lady, and here's her take on her experiences of sex work!

Eve is loud, opinionated, and articulate - and I don't mean any of that as a bad thing. It sounds like she's had a bad time of it in life, although she doesn't want to be viewed as a victim, which I can understand. The book is told in two alternating narratives - one, the story of her past, how she got into the profession, and her background; two, the more current story of her pregnancy up until the birth of her daughter. She met her boyfriend, 'Adam' (as she's still an active dominatrix, all names used as pseudonyms for privacy purposes) in a brothel and has now settled into what looks very much like an ordinary, mundane existence, aside from her job.

Eve lays it out clearly - she is passionate about the rights of sex workers and wants to have the same protections at work that others enjoy. She has brushed up against the law, having been arrested for her brothel work and had a sum of money essentially stolen from her by the police, and has a criminal record. Specifically for a sexual offense, too, which means she can't do most of the 'legitimate' work that she was doing - she wanted to be an actress, and has done work in children's theatre and with the elderly before. Her story highlights how backwards the law is when it comes to sex work. All it's really interested in is criminalising and punishing sex workers, not in protecting vulnerable people from oppressive forces. Why? What, fundamentally, is wrong with sex work? Nothing, is the answer. And yet, here we are. Eve's account is eye-opening and an argument very well made, and I'd recommend this book to anyone interested in the profession and its modern-day implications.

Next, the Simpsons and the apocalypse.