#Anyways if nobody gets my my man Lord Peter gets me

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I was surprised when I first heard people say the first Lord Peter Wimsey novels were too caricaturesque, because I don't remember a time I felt more identified with a character that when Lord Peter gets so focused, worried, and disturbed by his discovery of the nature of the crime in "Whose Body?" that he goes on a full blown PTSD attack. And then he is so very tired. And needs several days of rest to recover. But he's talking it in the exasperated philosophy of "going on a stupid little walk for my stupid mental health". Extremely relatable to me, whatever that says about my mental health state.

[demaparbat-hp]

Are you writing Cutthroat? I’m curious about more. Are you making a fandom wiki or family trees?

Hello!

I am currently working on refining some aspects of Cutthroat before beginning to write the actual beast. To be honest, I hadn't thought of making a Fandom wiki for it. The blood relations between some of the characters are quite complicated, and building Family Trees might help me out a lot, so thanks for the suggestion!

I'll include a summary of the AU under the cut, so you can get a general idea of what it's about.

Cutthroat AU:

Harrison Silas Sayre doesn't hate Wool's Orphanage—that is Tom's, his brother's, job. Tom Marvolo Riddle hates Wool's as much as he hates his dead mother, which is saying a lot. Unfortunately for them, they seem to gravitate around the Orphanage. Though that might have something to do with the ritual they performed there fifty years ago.

Exactly seven months after Tom Riddle's birth, a baby arrived at Wool's Orphanage with a single letter stating his full name and date of birth: Harrison Silas Sayre, July 31st, 1927. The two boys were different from other children—special, as Tom often said, so it was no wonder they found solace in each other while growing up as brothers.

The Wizarding World had no idea what it signed up for the day the twins' Hogwarts letters arrived.

During their seven years at Hogwarts, they became close with the Black sisters: Dorea, a Slytherin like Tom, and Cassiopeia, who was in Ravenclaw with Harry, though in different years.

Cassiopeia was creepy. She worshipped Tom, though that might have something to do with the rumors about her weird Visions... Tom was a natural, charismatic leader, though he only had a meaningful relationship with his brother. Harry, instead, formed a close friendship with Dorea right from the start. They were always seen with each other, much in the same way Cassiopeia could always be found trailing Tom.

I could say a lot of things about them, but I think the most important event is the ritual Tom performed at 18—a ritual Harry was forced to participate in. Ideally, the ritual would allow them to live forever, an anchor of one another, until the end of times... But vital blood was needed.

Fifty years later, Lily Evans' and Regulus Black's research took them to a set of Caves near an abandoned Orphanage. They had spent years after James' death looking for any clue about the mysterious dark lord who was steadily taking hold of the Wizarding World from behind the stage. Only few were aware of his existence, except for his followers (Peter and the Mark in his scalp was a somber reminder of that fact), but nobody knew a single thing about the actual person.

In the Caves, behind a blood protection that Lily was surprisingly able to pass through, there was a black crystal coffin. Within, a sleeping young man had a snake resting on his chest. The snake watched as Lily and Regulus got close and, slowly, began to eat its own tail.

Ouroboros, they recognised, and the boy woke up.

His green eyes were exactly like Lily's, and there was a gruesome scar decorating his throat, as if it was sliced open once upon a time...

Like I said before, I could talk about Cutthroat all evening. It's very, very extensive and writing a summary for it is a difficult task for me. You can, however, ask questions, in case you're curious about something specific. Or if you want to know more about some characters, or their family trees or the plot...

Anyways, hope this was not too boring to read, and not too long of an answer. Thank you for asking! Knowing there's someone interested in this AU makes me motivated to do my best and keep working on it. Hope you have a good day!

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

I think my ask didn’t go through right-

This one here-

“Can I have “I’ll take care of it” for Peter as well please? For both of mine, s/o is comforting him bc Lord knows our short king deserves TLC. However, if you want it the other way around for one, that’s fine too. I will accept it bc whatever you end up making will be awesome anyway.”

Did Tumblr do something?

this is the only one of this particular request I have yeah

so Tumblr probably did something, ruuuuude

... but! agreed! our short king deserves TLC, he needs it <3

105 Comfort Prompts

12. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

It’s not your fault that you and PETER typically only get mornings together without much interruption, but you cling to him pretty fiercely during those mornings. Some small, deep part of you fears he’ll vanish if you don’t keep a good grip on him.

The morning is hazy, although the circus is already bustling. You can hear the sounds of life going on beyond the flimsy walls of the tent you share with your lover and his sister. It’s almost comforting, in a way; lying here with the man you love, listening the world turn just a stone’s throw away.

You let out a soft hum and cuddle into Peter’s shoulder. Maybe you can get a little more sleep, right? You’re fairly sure Peter isn’t awake yet. These early-morning moments are some of the best.

Not a full minute later, however, you hear Wendy stirring in the bunk above you. She yawns and stretches and then reaches down to knock on the wood, presumably to wake up her brother. “Peterrrrrr… it’s our turn t’ go ‘elp with breakfas’…”

“Fuuuuuck breakfas’,” he mumbles, and you think he’s just barely conscious. His arms circle around your waist to pull you closer. As if he thinks he needs some kind of excuse to not get out of bed. “It’s too damn early.”

You can hear Wendy roll her eyes. “Ain’t nobody arguin’ that point, Peter. But breakfas’ needs makin’.”

He lets out a sound which is dangerously close to a whine, prompting your heart to melt. You shift around so you can press a kiss to his cheek. “Stay there, love. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. You keep sleeping and I’ll take your place helping with breakfast, alright?”

All he gives you at first is a grunt. You can tell he’s tempted, though. “Nah… can’t…” He pauses to interrupt himself with a yawn. “… Mmh, can’t let y’ do that, precious… I’m gettin’ up…”

“Oh, yes, y’re gettin’ up,” Wendy snickers. “Y’r eyes ain’t even open yet.”

“Oi, they’re gettin’ there! Gimme a bloody minute, would y’…”

He trails off into a series of unintelligible murmurs, and you snatch the chance to push yourself up into a sitting position. Your hand runs through his hair. “Honestly, Peter. You just stay here and get another hour or so of sleep. You’ve been tired lately.” You look up toward Wendy. “I’d offer to take your place, too, but…”

She shakes her head, tying her hair back. “They’d notice if one person showed up instead’a two. ‘S alright. I think I slept better’n Peter las’ night, so I’m fine.”

“There we have it.” You lean back down to give him a kiss, this time on the forehead. “I’ll be back to get you once the food is actually ready.”

“Mh…” He barely moves even as you pull the blanket back up over him. “Y’ sure…?”

“I’m sure, sweetheart. Get some rest, and I’ll come fetch you soon.”

He lets out a soft sigh. “Alright. Don’t let Wendy burn nothin’.”

You smirk as you stand up. “Oh? Can I burn something, then?”

“Sure…” He curls up, grasping parts of the blanket in both hands. “Jus’ as long as y’ don’t feed it t’ me.”

[marabaker]

It had been blisteringly cold in Cripple Creek for nearly a week, so cold that David felt his eyelashes freezing together when he made his way to the store in the morning. Paddy had told him that if it kept up this way for another day or two he could just stay home - he believed half of the town would’ve frozen to death anyway, by then. No sense coming in if nobody was going to buy anything. But mercifully, by Valentine's Day, the cold snap had broken, and though it was still mighty cold, David could walk out the front door without having the wind knocked out of him. It was still cold enough in the store to keep his gloves on. Paddy was crouched by the fire, squatting on his heels and shaking his head. "Never been this damn cold here for this damn long, Davey. I'll tell you the birdies are frozen to the branches." That was a grim image, and probably a true one. Poor little birds, stuck fast to trees, flapping their wings to no end. David took a sip of much too hot coffee, burning his pipes all the way down to his belly, before flipping the front door sign to "open." Robert Dawes came in almost immediately, looking pink and crazed. "Mister Dawes!" Paddy said, finally standing up (his knees popped and groaned.) David stood up straight, ready to take his order. Robert Dawes was one of the wealthier men in the county, and though the rumor was he'd gotten his money through claim-jumping, Paddy had always said it was no business of theirs. He was a paying customer, that was that. "Good morning to you, Mister Dawes," Paddy greeted him, taking a place besides David at the counter. "Suppose you made it through this cold snap, t-" "No time for it, Catlick, may God bless you. I need some things." "Of course." "Have your boy-" David had never been addressed by Robert Dawes directly. "-fetch me a length of rope, a hammer, and a hatchet." David, puzzled, began collecting the items without a word. "-and an apple."

David took a moment, and grabbed the shiniest apple they had, about the size of his fist. He placed it on the counter in front of Robert Dawes, looking him right in the eye. Robert Dawes looked right back at him. David could see white around his entire pupil. "What drives you to need all these in such a fuss, Mister Dawes?" Robert Dawes's eyes whipped back to Paddy, and he smiled. Since the last time David had seen him a few weeks ago, he was newly missing a front tooth. "I've a madman after me, if you must know the why of it." He let this hang there for a while. "A madman?" "A madman, Paddy, mad as a dog. It's this cold drove him to it." "But why after you, especially? Who is he?" "Peter Sullivan. Headed west from Baltimore in '49, got stuck here. Worked for me a spell. Thinks I owe him money. He spent a year out there in the woods and now he's plum crazy. This here cold brought him back in. Thought he'd get my goat, take my home, stay warm. Hah!" David jumped at this theatrical laugh. "He crept into my house like a thief on cat-paws. Took my kettle and whacked me across the chops, a man in bed! Leave it to a cowardly bastard like him. I got him good, knocked him off his feet, socked him in the eye. I hollered 'Out with the vagrant! Out with the no good sinner!' and threw his hinders out into the snow. Sure enough, next day, there he was again. Told me 'Robert Dawes, I shall have my avenge on you!' Durn fool doesn't know what he's saying. I said 'You mean revenge, you ignorant son of a gun!' And he said 'Any word for it suits me fine!' and came at me with fury. Well thisa time he knocked my tooth out -" He pointed to the gaping hole, as if David and Paddy hadn't already noticed it. "-and that got me steaming mad. We tussled a bit, I got a few good knocks in, and threw him out in the snow again. Told him if I saw him again I'd send him to the arms of the Lord. Or to Beelzebub. Whoever he's made his peace with."

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 403

John 1:4

UNDERSTANDING PROPHETIC MANDATES 37: TYPES OF PROPHECY 3

Amo 3:7 CERTAINLY, THE ALMIGHTY LORD DOESN'T DO ANYTHING UNLESS HE FIRST REVEALS HIS SECRET TO HIS SERVANTS THE PROPHETS. GW

The intruiging factor about Prophetic Mandates through Direct Experiences is that you may not see much of it related in Bible.

There could be some similarities but not your direct experience.

Joh 14:25-26 I AM TELLING YOU THIS WHILE I AM STILL WITH YOU. But when the FATHER SENDS THE SPIRIT OF HOLINESS, the One like me who sets you free, HE WILL TEACH YOU ALL THINGS IN MY NAME. AND HE WILL INSPIRE YOU TO REMEMBER EVERY WORD THAT I’VE TOLD YOU. TPT

The Scripture above is loaded with depths of meaning.

Jesus was saying that not all you need is written. The Holy Spirit will remind you of what has been said - or written - but also show you, what hasn’t been written but meant for you [only].

Hence your “Personalized” experiences.

Act 9:15-16 But the Lord said to him, “Go, because this man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before Gentiles and kings and the people of Israel. FOR I WILL SHOW HIM HOW MUCH HE MUST SUFFER FOR THE SAKE OF MY NAME.” NET

God was talking about Paul to Ananias, who was afraid to approach the newly apprehended soul.

God didn’t show Ananias what Paul would experience because it was going to be Paul’s personal experience and they were going to be many.

We all read later most of all he indeed experienced in his Ministry.

Now we also know that Peter had the same experience, don’t we?

Joh 21:18-19 I AM TELLING YOU THE TRUTH: when you were young, you used to get ready and go anywhere you wanted to; BUT WHEN YOU ARE OLD, YOU WILL STRETCH OUT YOUR HANDS AND SOMEONE ELSE WILL TIE YOU UP AND TAKE YOU WHERE YOU DON'T WANT TO GO." (In saying this, JESUS WAS INDICATING THE WAY IN WHICH PETER WOULD DIE AND BRING GLORY TO GOD.) Then Jesus said to him, "Follow me!" GNB

In Peter’s case, we read the particular experience Jesus foretold of him but we can be sure that the details were mostly communicated to him spiritually, later in his ministry.

Suffering for Christ is generally predicted to happen to most Christians anyway; it is part of our Commission.

Luk 21:16-17 EVEN YOUR PARENTS, BROTHERS, RELATIVES, and friends will turn against you. They will have some of you killed. EVERYONE WILL HATE YOU BECAUSE YOU FOLLOW ME. ERV

Many of us are unaware of our Mandates by the Prophetic “angle” or ignored the personal directives God gave us about them. Hence we get confused when such experiences come our ways.

It is thus important to keep reminding and encouraging brethren where they suffer.

1Th 3:2-4 and send our friend Timothy to you. He works with us as God's servant and preaches the good news about Christ. We wanted him to make you strong in your faith and to encourage you. We didn't want any of you to be discouraged by all these troubles. YOU KNEW WE WOULD HAVE TO SUFFER, BECAUSE WHEN WE WERE WITH YOU, WE TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN. AND WE DID SUFFER, AS YOU WELL KNOW. CEV

While some Christians seem hedonistic in concept and would forever detest, reject and contend against suffering of any kind, they only end us preaching heresies when they insist on their philosophies.

Nobody can change the inherent and inevitable details of Prophetic Mandate.

Php 1:29 Because TO YOU IT HAS BEEN GIVEN in the cause of Christ NOT ONLY TO HAVE FAITH IN HIM, BUT TO UNDERGO PAIN ON HIS ACCOUNT: BBE

“...to you it has been given…” also implies that the Grace and POWER to withstand and persevere in suffering is also part of the “Package”.

Did you know that?

2Ti 1:7-8 God didn't give us a cowardly spirit but A SPIRIT OF POWER, love, and good judgment. So never be ashamed to tell others about our Lord or be ashamed of me, his prisoner. INSTEAD, BY GOD'S POWER, join me in suffering for the sake of the Good News. GW

There are scriptures that many Christians hinge upon to defend their resistance against pains on account of the Gospel.

We are all too familiar with such verses , aren’t we?

Pro 16:7 When a man's ways are pleasing to the Lord, HE MAKES EVEN HIS HATERS BE AT PEACE WITH HIM. BBE

The problem is that we want to make such verses ABSOLUTE & DEFINITE for all.

Indeed, while you go through Trials, enemies may be set to help you, but we must embrace the fact that the Gospel is intrinsically offensive to satan and his kingdom.

You simply can’t alter that, can you?

Luk 2:34 Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, “Listen carefully: THIS CHILD IS DESTINED TO BE THE CAUSE OF THE FALLING AND RISING OF MANY IN ISRAEL AND TO BE A SIGN THAT WILL BE REJECTED. NET

May God give us grace to embrace our Prophetic Crosses, IN JESUS NAME.

Come back on Monday, for more of this insightful and enlightening Sub-Subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Friday, September 08, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[dolche-tejada]

Ohh it's going to be fun :D

"Immediately justify Tony trying to kill Bucky because they think that if they put the "understandable" there nobody will notice them justifying a brutal and sustained attack on an unarmed man with intent to kill"

Reminding that Tony didn't go after Bucky just because he's some "cunt" who allegedly does "horrible shit" all the time isn't the same as justifying why he did that, you dimwit. Even less so when I also reminded that Tony was obviously wrong for trying to kill him but I guess that reading more than fifteen words in a row was too hard for you ?

"Except like, T'Challa when his father's killer confesses in front of him and - doesn't try to kill him. Despite the fact his father literally *died in his arms* two days earlier."

No shit, he had two days to calm down past the shock + the time to process that he almost killed an innocent man by trying to get his revenge, how is that remotely comparable to Tony's situation ? And even so, how does it refute my point ? Because if you want to play that game, I could quote Star-Lord killing Ego for his mother or Peter trying to murder the Green Goblin in retaliation for Aunt May.

"Miriam Sharpe? Doesn't try to murder Tony."

It's not like she could even if she wanted to and she's likely aware of that so this example is stupid but please, go on.

"Steve: Purely trying to defend himself from the guy attempting to murder both him and his adoptive bother"

Firstly, same Steve who could have killed a kid earlier that same day if the latter wasn't luckily strong enough to carry the loading dock he dropped on him.

Secondly, Tony never tried to kill Steve, the fuck are you babbling about ? He clearly used non-lethal force against him and literally held back from using his missiles and shit against him in favor of hand-to-hand combat. If Tony wanted to kill Steve, their fight wouldn't have lasted more than a minute.

"Natasha: doesn't try to hurt Melina for betraying her mother."

Should I teach you the difference between killing someone and betraying them or I'm allowed to hope you have enough functional neurons to do that on your own ?

"Clint when he kills multiple SHIELD operatives under mind control all of whom had families: nobody objects or holds it against him."

A) Biased assumption. Since this issue is never addressed onscreen, you have zero proof of that.

B) What their families could do to a fucking Avenger and high-ranking SHIELD's agent anyway ?

"Hmm,,,, maybe throwing homicidal temper tantrums isn't quite so normal and Tony Stans are actually in the wrong for saying that level of violence against the guy who was literally being controlled by someone else is in any way normal or justified?"

Hmm what a shame I never precised that Tony was wrong for trying to kill Bucky.

Allow me : "At this point Tony just didn't care anymore and while he was obviously wrong for trying to kill Bucky, it's not like he had no understandable reasons to go after him."

Highlighting the part you missed since you apparently struggle with your illiteracy issues (no need to thank me ♥️).

"Read: tried to make everyone feel better about Tony selling them out to a still most likely HYDRA infested government and forcing them all to sign the MCU equivalent of the Nuremberg Laws?"

Read : Tony tried to avoid conflict and talk with Steve instead of telling 119 countries to fuck off just because he don't like taking orders and "he's muh friend", in addition to avoiding lethal force against anyone (except Bucky at the very end) while Cap and his team almost killed him and his coworkers at multiples occasions (like Wanda crushing him under cars or Sam shooting at Peter).

As for your comparison between some accords to regulate the job of super-soldiers doing whatever they want without any supervision, accountability or proper training (accords they aren't even forced to sign unless they stop their heroic activites) to literal antisemitic laws, go fuck yourself.

It's so blatantly moronic and disrespectful to Jews that I won't even bother wasting more time on this shit.

"You mean the fight Tony Initiated at the behest of Ross? The guy fond of conducting illegal human experiments hunting Bruce Banner and ordering Extra-Judicial Executions"

Same guy Tony double-crossed by hijacking the Raft's security to help Steve stopping Zemo ; and betrayed later by letting Wanda, Clint, Sam and Scott break out after seeing how horrible their conditions of incarceration were.

"And his best friend for injured as a result of the shot Rhodey himself ordered Vision to make despite the high likelihood of friendly fire?"

Which wouldn't have happened if Cap and his team didn't escalate this situation into a brawl in the first place.

"Oh so attempted double murder"

Nope, he didn't try to kill Steve.

"and aggravated assault with a weapon all whilst letting the actual villain escape because someone lied to your over your fascist- collaborating daddy is fine I guess."

Saying it was understandable still isn't the same as justifying it, sweetie. If this is too much to process for you, don't hesitate to take a sit while your neurons (neuron ?) cool down.

"You know what he also didn't have authority to do my love?**Execute people without due process***"

Never said the opposite + unrelated to the point I've answered to. So that's another fail for you but don't worry, the essential is that you keep trying :)

""Oh but muh he didn't care anymore"- all the more reason for him to be incarcerated then- because a man in a flying tank who tries to commit murder when he is upset is clearly a threat to society"

Cool so going by that, Bucky and Steve should be locked up in the adjoining cells, right ? Because a man ready to punch at full force a kid with his superhuman metal arm (which would have killed him if Peter wasn't that strong) sound just as dangerous.

But at least not as much as the another one who could have also accidentally killed this kid, in addition to tell 119 countries to fuck off because only one government he knew was corrupted by Hydra and that he don't like taking orders, even if it can avoid massive casualties 🤔

"Oh but muh he was having a really bad day!" - oh so its fine to try and murder someone if you are having a bad day I guess?"

Retorting that much shit on an imaginary point I've never hold would be almost adorable if you were a kid but past 18 (I guess), it's kind of pathetic ngl.

"Just like those Afghan villagers he "saved from terrorists" by *checks notes* blowing up stuff in a civilian settlement where there could have been any number of civilians hiding in the houses"

He literally spot a terrorist completely hidden behind a wall earlier in this same scene, you moron. Going by that, it's logical to assume he can detect people hidden in those settlements, including eventual civilians.

"(and let's be real the terrorists probably got their weapons from him in the first place)"

It was revealed that Obadiah Stane sold them those weapons but sure, keep yapping.

"Also Tony Stans: "Bucky deserves to DIIIIIIIEIEEEEEE! So his torture-initiated mind control is totally an utterly irrelevant he WAS STILL RESPONSIBLE"

"Also Tony Stans ACSHULLLY Tony is not responsible for anyhing he did ever because he once had a bad dream and also trauma and also his daddy was mean to him!"

Hey look, another one ! Fallacies must have been on sale today for you to base your whole argument on them :D

"fucking- ronic that Tony stans whine about unjust blame when they are fine and dandy with Tony trying to brutally murder the person who was mind controlled"

You're over 18 in theory, right ? Because it's fucking hilarious that at your age, you're still unable to see the distinction between claiming an attempted murder was justified and saying the motive and context were understandable.

"and used against his will to kill his parents instead of the people who actually **planned the whole operation and gave the order*"

Tony tried to kill in a fit of rage the person who, while indeed brainwashed and a victim, still physically murdered his parents.

Wanda saw his name on a mortar shell and spent over a decade planning her revenge against the guy who designed and legally sold weapons to his government, when she had all the time in the world to think about it rationally.

Usually I let my interlocutor realize by himself how stupid his comparison is but since I'm dealing with a dunderhead who can't even tell the difference between contextualizing and justifying a crime, it's surely too much to ask.

"Duh! Man who makes things designed to kill people indicriminately and then Tony Stans be like: You Make bomb. Bomb designed to kill. You do not get to pull surprised Pikachu face when bomb is used for purpose for which it was designed."

Almost as if the weapons he sold weren't supposed to be used against civilians since it's a war crime, something he didn't expect and tried to make amend for at the instant he learned about it in his first solo movie ?? Watch out sweetie, you were so close to be on something.

"Why she blame guy who made bomb and works for American government who dropped bomb? Yeah....why would you EVER blame the person who designed, sold and was a lapdog to the people who destroyed your home? Hmmmm SUCH A MYSTERY!"

Oh I know why, don't worry. It's just that targeting him, especially in this context, is fucking stupid.

"First off why did none of the other Avengers build weapons of mass destruction as result of thier bad dreams? Maybe because Tony is the only one who made instruments of death as a hobby which makes him a liability."

Which wouldn't be a liability in the first place if Wanda didn't mindraped him and fucked up with Ultron's conception.

"No, not like Tony had encoutered the Mind Stone before in Loki's Scepter and had witnessed firsthand what it could do to a person."

You mean mind control stuff working only on humans and totally unrelated to whatever the Mind Stone somehow did to his AI ?

"Not like he totally knew it was dangerous to tinker with it. That he was an adult and was capable of realizing something might go wrong. Not like all his team mates *warned him* not to do it."

Maybe because a certain someone mindraped him and played on his fears and paranoia earlier that same day to openly cause something awful ?

"Really? You are really going to persist in this utterly pathetic excuse when as has already been shown"

Yup I sure will, why I shouldn't when Wanda herself admitted manipulating him into using the Mind Stone to cause something horrible that could kill him. If you have a problem with what the film literally stated, cope harder.

"Tony already knew what the Mind Stone could do"

Lmao show me one evidence that Tony knew the Mind Stone could make an hardly designed AI sentient and turn it into a genocidal murder bot ? Go on, I feel like I'm going to laugh again 🙃

"Found them both on a HYDRA base which should have raised alll kinds of red flags."

For its ability to control people's minds through the scepter, which had no chance of happening here based on what he knew of the Stone. Not for its sudden and unknown ability to make barely designed AI sentient.

"Tony is nearly 50. He is responsible for his own actions."

Indeed, for his own actions. Which does not include what Ultron became then since that's on Wanda manipulating his fears, his paranoia and admitting that she knew letting him with the Mind Stone would screw things up.

Nor does it include Ultron's mass murders since AGAIN : Ultron was sentient and took his own decisions ✨

"Grow fucking up"

Coming from the clown whose "arguments" rely only on strawmen and child-like media literacy skills, that's not short of irony.

"and stop infantiziling him."

I didn't, the movie itself stated it was Wanda, I explained furthermore why he isn't irresponsible and you failed to retort at least one solid counter-argument.

"Yeah hmmmm This man who literally helped create the superweapon system which the Supernazis which his father enabled to inflitrate his organization used to try and destroy the world two years earlier"

What a dumbass analogy, it's not his weapon system in itself that go wrong, it's due to Hydra infiltrating the government and SHIELD to hijacked its use to their profits, that's where the problem lies, not with Tony.

In addition to that, he created JARVIS, another AI and guess what, it didn't turn wrong. He also created FRIDAY, no problem either. And same thing for the rest of his creations, literally none of them has gone off rail due to Tony.

Weird, it's almost like Ultron's case only happened because Wanda fucked up with his mind like she literally explained herself ? 🤔

Next time you want to yap in mentions, at least use canon arguments, m'kay ? Otherwise I'll probably just laugh at you or block you, depending of my mood 😘♥️

So I wanted to point out the usual nonsenses coming from Tony Stark antis and luckily enough, one of them made a post quoting pretty much most of their popular "arguments" (if I can refer to them as such), so let's take a look at this user’s main points and see how solid they are.

"Let's talk about the horrible shit Tony has done in the MCU"

Please keep in mind the "horrible shit" term all along during your reading.

"MCU Tony has mortared a city full of civilians"

Okay so first point and it literally never happened. USA's government did that to Wanda and Pietro's town, not Tony so I hope it wasn't too painful to pull this nonsense out of your ass.

"Been a complete dick to all of his teammates"

Oh no... he was mean to Steve and his coworkers during their first movie ? What a complete tragedy, what a heartless monster. Please stop the violins, otherwise I might weep.

"Made multiple misogynistic comments about women mainly Natasha (looking at you prima nocta scene)"

Okay so you gave only one example to back this up and it's when he was obviously joking with his friends. Even if that joke may be in very bad taste, that doesn't make him a horrible person like you tried to demonstrate, you're just nitpicking.

"Manipulated a 16 year old into getting into a war with his former teammates"

A) "a war" please don't make me laugh. For most of the only fight Peter take part in, both sides were joking with the other while fighting and weren't even fighting seriously, they were just trying to incapacitate each other. Things only get messy after Tony ordered Peter to step back.

B) Tony didn't manipulate shit. He hid no vital informations to Peter and while bringing a 16 year old to an arrest was indeed a stupid decision, he knew Steve wouldn't harm him and that Peter was strong, competent and equipped enough to deal with him.

"Thought he was completely justified for trying to kill Bucky for something Bucky did unwillingly cuz he was fucking brainwashed"

Why the fuck are you lying ? At no point Tony justified himself for this. He tried during the whole Civil War plot to ease things with Steve and this even after his best friend got disabled for life because Steve escalated the situation at the airport, only to learn then that his friend lied to him all along about his parents' death.

At this point Tony just didn't care anymore and while he was obviously wrong for trying to kill Bucky, it's not like he had no understandable reasons to go after him. Brainwashed or not, most people would try to obliterate their parents' murderer if he stood right in front of them.

"Repeatedly mocked Bruce Banner who was filled with self loathing and even tried to kill himself because of how much he hated being The Hulk"

Firstly he joked with him, not about him. Secondly, Tony was the only one who respected Bruce from the start and never treated him like some ticking bomb ready to explode.

"Created most of the villains in the MCU (Mysterio and Co., Vulture, Aldrich Killian, The Maximoff Twins, Justin Hammer, The Flag-Smashers etc)"

Okay, where do I even begin on that.

Quentin Beck was a narcissistic asshole who got mad because his boss called his invention "B.A.R.F", that and Tony tossing it aside because this tech was way too expansive for its very limited applications. So not Tony's fault if Beck had an ego more fragile than a soap bubble.

Hammer tried to destroy Tony's image and Stark Industries first, so Tony defended himself by revealing he crippled a man by trying to replicate his tech. Hammer fucked around and found out, not Tony's fault if he's an hypocritical idiot.

Concerning the Flag Smashers, the reason they became terrorists wasn't caused by Tony bringing back half of the universe, it was due to the Global Repatriation Council's disastrous resources management.

About Toomes, Tony had no prior knowledge of the contract he signed with NY and even if he did, leaving dangerous alien tech in the hands of random people is quite a moronic idea, as evidenced by what they did with this tech for years. Not Tony's fault if Toomes is delusional and sucks at his job.

Aldrich Killian ? Be fucking real, he became a super-villain just because Tony ignored him, an archetypal greasy-haired nerd who literally drools as he talks, for a pretty chick on New Year's Eve.

Like obviously, when a serial killer stab someone to death, the most logical reaction is to blame those who assemble knives at the factory rather than the murderer himself, makes perfect sense to me.

The Maximoff Twins, my god this argument again... Yeah let's blame the guy who designed and sold weapons to his government rather than, oh I don't know, the fucking guys who used them against civilians ??

"Which also means he's also had some hand in the deaths caused by all these characters"

Literally none of the characters you quoted became super-villains because of him.

"Created Ultron"

He intended to create a security system against other alien invasions and it resulted in a genocidal robot, which only happened because Wanda mindraped him some hours before. Tony is responsible for Ultron's creation, Wanda for what he became.

And I don't want to see anybody whining in my mentions that he already planned to design Ultron prior to her mindraping him, not when she had this fucking grin after seeing Tony taking the Mind Stone with him.

Let alone when she threw this line, later in the movie : I saw Stark’s fear. I knew it would control him, make him self destruct.

She knew letting him take the Stone would cause something awful that might also kill him and she used her powers to make him even more paranoid. She's responsible for Ultron going from "A suit of armor around the world" to "Genocidal Murder Bot", not Tony.

"Thought it was a good idea to have a newly created AI be exposed to The Mind Stone which caused Ultron to kill JARVIS and go rogue

A) Which again wouldn't have happened if Wanda hadn't mindraped him the same day.

B) He didn't consciously exposed Ultron to it, the Mind Stone corrupted the AI on its own, something Tony and Bruce had no way to predict.

C) Still not his fault anyway. Ultron is sentient, he takes his own decisions. Tony being his "father" doesn't change anything to this state of fact.

"Profited off of war by making weapons of mass destruction and selling them"

Something he's spent over a decade to make amend for, notably by closing his weapons division and dedicating his life and resources to helping people and saving the world.

"Bought illegally obtained vibranium stolen directly from Wakanda by Klaue"

False too. All we know is that they met each other at the time Tony was still designing weapons ; and that Klaue told him he was looking for something new. At no point was it implied Tony illegally bought vibranium from him.

"Technically responsible for more vibranium being stolen from Wakanda by Klaue due to Ultron"

This vibranium was already stolen by Klaue when Ultron met him.

"Being responsible for everyone who died in Sokovia's death because he made Ultron"

So following your reasoning, I guess Jeffrey Dahmer's parents are responsible for every murder their son committed from his own free-will ? Did I get that right ?

"Being unwilling to help Steve and the others fix the Blip cuz muh daughter"

My god, how dare he... being against playing with time and rather trying to accept what happened while taking care of his family.

And this when we know screwing up with time can cause world-ending events.

Truly a proof of how horrible of a human being he is, indeed.

Btw I like how you ignored that Tony changed his mind and helped them afterwards.

"Supported The Sokovia Accords which need I remind you all Tony is technically responsible for The Accords being made because A. he's the one who killed Wanda's parents (blah blah blah, a lot of false attributions later...) causing her to kill Crossbones and a building full of people"

Still isn't him who dropped those mortar shells on her house. Just like it's not him who pushed Crossbones to go suicide-bombers, wrote the Sokovia Accords and incited 119 countries to sign them.

"and B. he is literally responsible for what happened to Sokovia BECAUSE HE MADE ULTRON"

Already answered to this shit, let's continue.

"Referring to Wanda as "a weapon of mass destruction" in Civil War"

Lmao because she isn't ? No one forced Wanda to join a terrorist organization, pal. Just like no one pushed her to act as a weapon of mass destruction, by using her powers to send Hulk on a rampage across Johannesburg or by enslaving Westview.

"meanwhile HE is the REASON SHE has her powers in the first place"

Sure, Tony whispered in her ear every night to go serve as a guinea pig for Nazis in order to get her revenge on him. I forgot this part of Wanda's backstory, silly me.

"Falsely imprisoning the heroes that didn't sign The Accords because he's a cunt"

Tony don't have any power or authority to imprison people, and the heroes he stopped got incarcerated because they indeed broke the law, you jackass.

"Being technically responsible for all the deaths caused by Wanda in Wandavision and DSATMOM because if he didn't kill her parents with his mortar..."

I don't think you know what "technically" means.

"then her and Pietro wouldn't have went to Hydra thus not getting their powers from The Mind Stone"

You know what would have actually prevented all the deaths Wanda caused ? Her not willingly joining Nazis to get her powers and going on a murder spree.

"And you are probably thinking "But he sacrificed himself at the end of Endgame !""

To save the whole universe indeed. That and quite a few other things, such as :

Outright refusing to help terrorists and getting tortured as a result.

Risking his life to save Yinsen.

Saving Afghans villagers from terrorists.

Saving Pepper and SHIELD's agents from Obadiah Stane.

Actively saving people on a daily basis, and this for a decade.

Developing a shit ton of armors to protect people more efficiently.

Saving New York and the world overall from Chitauris.

Stopping Killian from taking over the USA.

Curing Pepper from the Extremis treatment.

Designing Veronica with Bruce.

Fighting Hulk to protect Johannesburg.

Saving the world once again, alongside the Avengers.

Awarding promising students with the funds to develop their own projects and inventions.

Granting his tech to Peter and designing for him two suits that allowed him to save many lives.

Saving Stephen's life from Ebony Maw.

Helping the Avengers to travel in other timelines.

"Let me ask you this : If Strange had hold Tony that the only way to defeat Thanos is if Tony sacrificed himself would Tony do it"

It's literally what happened during Endgame, you fucking bozo. What do you think was the meaning of this scene ?

And it's not like it was something new, he was always ready to die for others' sake, right from the start, did you even watched the first Avengers movie ?

No wait, even better : Have you at least watched the beginning of his first solo movie ?

I wasn't expecting anything from Tony antis but sucking that hard at watching a movie is quite impressive ngl.

"Bottom line is MCU Wanda sucks and Tony Stark sucks"

Yeah no shit, that's pretty easy to say when you're making up lies to support your hate boner.

So in conclusion, this dude has no idea of what he's talking about and neither does Tony antis in general for using these bs as arguments.

[starbuckie]

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

challenge: time travel challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld​

prompt: “we’re divorced?” 

pairing: sirius black x reader

words: 5.7k words

warnings: FOURTH WALL BREAK!!(sorry im very excited about that), lots of angst, almost smut(hehe), sirius lowkey has a breeding kink, sirius is an asshole for a bit, the smallest bit of fluff, fix-it, and the same time travel theory as back to the future

summary: an unnatural occurrence lets a woman go back in time to try and change everything she’s known for the past twenty years.

a/n: wow, i normally don’t write for harry potter so this was a nice change. anyways, this is for yvette’s time travel writing challenge, and everybody say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YVETTE! i’m so sorry this is late, it got deleted and i needed to re-edit, but i truly appreciate your friendship and your lovely, amazingly beautiful self, and I’m so so glad that we became friends :)  this fic is not beta-read at all, so if you see any mistakes tell me, but otherwise i really hope you enjoy this fic<3

main masterlist || harry potter masterlist

It still wasn’t over. After all she had lost, more specifically everyone she had lost, and the shitty cycle that she had to call her life, it still wasn’t over. The people she had watched the life drain from, the screams of those suffering from the loss caused by the Dark Lord, and yet life still hadn’t had its fill of torturing Y/N. Grimmauld Place felt empty without the kids, without the Weasleys, but they had gone back to their home and soon enough she would have to as well. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore, though she’d argued to hold onto him just a bit longer after-

After Sirius had died. 

Time had passed, maybe two or three weeks, but no matter what the woman couldn’t bring herself to get out of Sirius’ old bedroom, simply staring at the ceiling with her tears at bay. Her and Sirius had been a complicated thing, to say the least, a topic nobody had brought up since 1983, when she had banned it. Not as if there was much to talk about after the divorce and Sirius going to Azkaban. After Lily and James had died, after she had fought with Dumbledore for custody of Harry, after she had become a professor at Beauxbatons and moved to France without a second thought. Sirius had been locked up after he’d hurt her in the worst possible way, and Y/N’s heartbroken soul found no other reason to return to England. 

But, she pushed those bad memories to the back of her mind. It seemed so trivial, looking back on it. Not the broken house, of course, that had been his own mistake. But Y/N had many regrets, all of them seeming to revolve around the mischievous black-haired man who she had fallen in love with as a teen. The night it went down, the night their relationship had fractured at the seams and fallen down, was her greatest one however. It had been so stupid, so, so stupid, but they’d both gotten caught up in the moment, and Y/N had let him die without knowing how much she was sorry for that night that they let their fears consume them. 

The cries that she had tried so hard to contain finally broke free from the restraints of her heart. “I’m so sorry, Siri,” she whispered into the air, “I couldn’t save you this time.” As the hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks, Y/N shuffled across the room, letting her feet drag her to the old Black family room, the dark green walls embracing her rainy emotions. 

A little gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the portraits among the wall. The Black family tree was faded along the age-old wall, but what she was really looking for was the burned out image of her raven-haired love. There, right next to Regulus, was a black spot, scorned and scarred by the prestigious family for being a blood traitor. Y/N smiled and traced the burn with her finger, remembering their fourth year when she had accompanied him home for the holidays so he wouldn’t be completely alone in the hellhole he had to call his house. Sirius had snuck them up to this room and spent the night talking in hushed whispers sworn secrets. “I’ll be yours forever, Siri, and I’m sorry for fighting with you. I wish-” she sniffled, glaring at the spot in the wall as she tried to garble out her words, “I wish, I could go back in time, and just fix it. Just me and you, and that stupid night, with the bloody fight about children because you deserve it all, darling.”

“Ah, I think you can.” 

Y/N turned around, her eyes wide with fear. That was not Kreacher’s voice. There stood a younger woman, around nineteen, a scroll of paper and a quill in her hand. There was a whisper of a smirk on her face, brown eyes glittering even in the dimness in the room. “Who the hell are you?” Y/N looked at the door, which was still closed as she left it. She cast her wand out, pointing it at the stranger who did nothing but smile. “How did you get in here? Are you with the Lord?”

“With Voldemort?” The woman simply laughed. “Dude, I’m not with ‘the Lord’,” she added with air quotations. “Also I’m not really even here, so don’t you worry about that. My name’s Malia.”

Malia held her hand out, but Y/N kept her guard up. “You’re American. What brings you here? Are you a muggle?”

“Oh, nope, not a wizard, I’m just the author of this story.” Malia confided. “I’m here to tell you that you can fix this.”

“Fix… what?” Malia just rolled her eyes and sighed, staring up towards the ceiling as she spoke.

“God, did I write you to be hard of hearing now, too? I ought to fix that when I get back.” The woman blankly stared at the strange girl, wondering what the actual fuck she was talking about. “I can give you the chance to go back in time, Y/N. It won’t be for long, it’s really not gonna be interesting for more than two hours at most, but that should be enough time to tell the gang about what’s to come with Voldemort.”

“Like... time travel?” Y/N asked. The only way she knew how to time travel was the time turners. “But all of the ti-”

“Time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve read Harry Potter more times than I’ve said ‘I love you’ to my parents.” Malia smiled. “I’m the author, I make the rules, and my rule is that I’m giving you two hours in 1978 to talk to Sirius so he can fix the emotional fucking mess left behind by J.K. Rowling.”

“Who’s J.K. Rowling?” Malia shuddered at the name.

“A raggedy-ass, transphobic bitch who wrote y’all into existence, but she’s not of importance right now.” She checked the small, rectangular box in her hand, which glowed and provided little light in the darkened room. “Let’s see, it’s currently eleven-forty, so you have until one-forty to find the Marauders and fix this future. It may not be fixed in the books in the future, but if you are able to do it here that’s all that matters.” Malia’s brown eyes were downcast, her bright and loud personality dimming for just a moment before returning to Y/N’s confused gaze once more. “Try not to screw up too much while you’re there, just enough that you defeat the Dark Lord the first time. Tell Sirius all you know and that should be enough for him to fix all the mistakes, but do not under any circumstances let him or anyone else know who you are. I wish you luck, Y/N, it was nice to meet ya in person.” 

And with a peace sign in front of her face, she disappeared into a flash of neon pink light. 

“Bloody hell! Fix my future? Talk to Sirius? If this even is time travel, then how am I supposed to get there- AH!” Y/N’s body felt like it was turning inside out, her guts being torn from her stomach and back into it again. A delirious giggle arose from her lips in the black void she was pulled into, and a soft chatter could be heard, like voices at the end of a tunnel. 

“Blimey, looks like we got ourselves a nutter on school grounds.” Y/N’s arms flailed around, desperately seeking some sort of grounding surface to hold on to when her back hit a rough surface. There was an audible crack somewhere in her body, but she felt so sick that she couldn’t tell where. 

“Are you okay, ma’am? You just appeared from the sky and hit the ground.” Warm, brown eyes met Y/N’s, a familiar mess of black curls resting atop of the boy’s head. Large, rounded glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose, and an impish smile, one she used to know so well before he died, met his lips. 

“James,” she sighed. The boy stared at her strangely, and only then did she notice the three other boys and girls each behind them. Remus, Peter, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, and Alice. 

Sirius.

The sight that met her eyes made her nearly emotional. It had technically been only three weeks since she had seen him, but here was the young boy she had fallen in love with. The one who charmed her with his smart words and witty retorts to her brush-offs, who used to hold her in his arms in the most intimate and gentle ways. His grey eyes sparkled with curiosity, the infamous Marauder mischief swirling within the silvery pools.  

Seeing him so young tugged at her heartstrings, and though she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and never let go, a small, niggling feeling at the back of her head held her back. Was there something wrong?

“You know me?” Oh right, she was currently thirty-five. Looking around she noticed that she was outside the quidditch pitch, and there were other students, staring at her with widened eyes. No one knew she was Y/N L/N, their fellow schoolmate and probably one of the very few of them that survived the Death Eaters attacks. None of them were aware how it ended, or how it was currently going for them back in 1996, and in this time there was the first Wizarding War going on and they had every right to be terrified for their lives.

James now took a more defensive stance, standing tall and holding his wand out. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t give him the answer, instead letting her mouth gape open as she stared at him with wide eyes. Y/N looked across the grounds for the nearest exit, which was down by Hagrid’s hut and into the Forbidden Forest. It was her only choice at this point, to hide in the dark, creepy space, maybe just until the students went away so she could find Sirius and talk to him alone. It’d be hard to separate him from the boys, but if Lily were occupied with James it sure would be easy. 

Her younger, seventh-year self didn’t seem to be in the audience, thank Merlin, and with that knowledge, she got up and ran, ignoring her screaming muscles. That time travel really did a number on her. 

As she ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, she heard the students mutter, too much in shock and disarray to stop the crazy, old woman who knew James Potter.

“This is dodgy.”

“Someone ought to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“She kinda looks like Y/N L/N.’

“Don’t insult the poor girl like that, that wonker is ages old.”

“Come back here! Who the bloody hell are you?” Y/N’s heart beat quickly in her chest, threatening to burst out. Only three minutes in the past and it was all going straight to shit. “Stupefy!”

Shit. “No, James, please don’t-“ Her body hit the ground and her eyes closed, the last thing she saw being the pumpkin patch by the hut.

-

“I see you’re awake now, Ms. L/N.” Dumbledore stood above Y/N in the hospital ward bed, his grey beard dangling in front of her face. Her first instinct was to start blaming him for everything that had happened, starting from Lily and James’ deaths to Sirius’, already opening her mouth to call him an old, senile cow, but then she realized that Harry hadn’t been sent to the Dursleys yet, much less been born yet, so none of it would have an effect on him. Y/N’s second instinct was to question how Dumbledore knew who she was in 1978, but her former Headmaster started to speak before she could do so. “I must admit, it’s very courageous, that stunt you just pulled. I don’t think Ms. Louie will be too happy about that.” Y/N sent him a questioning stare. “Malia, the girl you met earlier. Malia Louie.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how did you know it was me?” She was dressed in a white gown that went to her knees, and behind him she could see her blouse and jeans folded and clean. Ah, the Hospital Wing. She had brought the boys here more times than she could count in her years at Hogwarts. “I don’t exactly look as young as I used to.”

“Ah, don’t worry Ms. L/N, you’ve kept your good looks quite nicely, even in your older age.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his wrinkled eyes sparkling with joy. “And speaking of young, if you are still worrying yourself about your younger self, you can put that to a stop. I am aware that you are not able to tell anyone who you are, and time travel is exceptionally dangerous if you are seen by the other version of yourself. I’ve already told the students that you were just a stray witch, misguided in your ways and that you were well taken care of. However, I think that brings us to the question of what your intentions are in the past, Ms. L/N.”

“Headmaster, I don’t think I can tell you about my business here. I’ve already messed up by letting the school see me by letting everyone see me, I don’t know why that girl even sent me here, it’s clear that this was a mistake.” Y/N sat up on the headboard, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. The tall arches of windows let the sun in the room, and she could see the specks of dust swirling around in the golden light. It had to be close to the end of the year for them, maybe sometime around April or May, near the end of N.E.W.T.s at least. She could imagine that it’d be easy for her to get out of Hogwarts for the day, with all the students studying for the stressful exams in the library, maybe she'd make her way to Hogsmeade and walk around or visit Hagrid under a false name to have some tea. He was always open for a nice cuppa with strangers on any free day he had. “Thank you Headmaster, for your kindness, but I really ought to be going. I-it was nice to see you.”

Y/N started to help herself out of the bed, swinging her feet over to touch the cool stone ground. Bones cracked with pain and fatigue, her muscles stretching sluggishly. Merlin, that she was not expecting that much hurt from the fall, but she should have never underestimated James Potter. No one ever should if they want to keep their good mind and sanity. 

Dumbledore handed her her clothes, cracked lips set in a straight line as he nodded solemnly. “I hope you accomplish whatever it is you are here to do, Ms. L/N, but I have no doubt that you will.” With a sly wink, he added, “You were always one of our most ardent and bright students.”

Y/N let herself smile, and with a wave, swiftly brought herself to the door. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

After slipping outside, she ran down the corridors, echoes of her feet ringing lightly behind her. The courtyard proved to be empty and she quickly ducked behind a column and tugged her jeans on hastily, making sure that no professors came walking past. Though the sky proved to be bright and cheerful, a slight breeze carried through, making her fall off balance and fall on the cemented ground. 

“Are you okay, darling? You look like you’re in need of a little help.” Y/N looked up to the speaking figure, one that she both loved and dreaded to see. 

She gathered herself quickly, her mind running fast and heart beating out of her chest as she tried to get out. “Yes, I am okay, thank you for asking. I think I’ll just get up and going now, I don’t need to take time out of your day like this-”

“I know who you are, Y/N.” 

Y/N came to a full stop, going against her brain that screamed at her to run away. Sirius looked downtrodden, his grey eyes watering despite the small hint of a smirk on his face. Though he was always one for playing around and not taking anything seriously, she knew when it was time to stop pretending and get real. “How’d you know it was me, Sirius?”

“You really don’t look bad for your age, darling.” He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it graciously, eyeing him nearly guiltily and forgetting about her promise to Y/N. But that was useless now, this moment with her first love was much more important. “Also you have the tattoo on your chest. I knew it was you the moment you landed on school grounds.”

She traced his gaze to her left collarbone, where a paw print, just barely visible beneath her low-cut blouse, sat. It was his, or Snuffles’, paw print, and at this point in time they had probably gotten it done about three months before. He had one for her too, a horseshoe for her horse patronus, right on his left side of his chest too. So they’d always be right next to each other’s hearts, as cheesy as it seemed.

But they were dumb, lovesick teenagers, and they acted the part well too. Their love was all-consuming, shagging in under the bleachers at the quidditch pitch and making out under the stars. It was fast, everything was fast, decisions, ideas, classes, all of them under the impression that they had to do everything right then or they’d be dead before they got to actually live. They had dreams of marriage, and a big, big family, obviously so far away from his family so they could never hurt their children’s lives the way they had hurt his. 

They were fantasies, Y/N had known that well enough when she and Sirius got divorced, but it was something that eighteen year-old Sirius Black held close to his heart. No matter how shitty his life got, he was always a firm believer in a happy ending. In their happy ending. 

“How am I right now?” They now stood over the Black Lake, staring into the glittering depths of the water where some mermaids could be seen sneaking peeks at the handsome boy and the strange lady who had fallen from the sky. 

Sirius stared at her questioningly for a moment. “How are you doing right now? I mean, I believe that I should be asking you that ques- oh, Merlin, I’m such a git, you meant your younger self.” Y/N laughed at that, her heart lifting with the goofiness of the old Sirius relieving an ache in her heart that she had had for so long. Not that old (it felt weird to say that) Sirius had been anything less than silly and snarky, but it was never directed towards her. It was nice to have the resemblance of their old relationship back, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. “I suppose that you’re okay. You didn’t see, well, your big moment on the field, but at this point Lily has probably opened her big, fat mouth and told you. N.E.W.T.s are just finishing up, so you’re much more light-hearted than during the study season.”

“I really did have a stick up my arse during exam time, you always told me to loosen up-” 

“Y/N, cut out the small talk, I think it’s okay for me to ask how and what is happening.” Sirius cut in.

So she told him. Y/N had always been upfront with people about everything. Or rather, she had learned how to be upfront with people after her and Sirius’ divorce. Without details of the deaths, she explained how she was sent back into the past to fix it in some conceivable way. However, she did tell him about the fall out. Maybe she wanted him to understand her pain, even though it was a younger him, but she had to admit to herself that it was because she just wanted Sirius, in whatever form life gave her to hear out her grievances and apologies. 

Since her Sirius was dead before she could.

“We’re divorced?” Sirius looked about ready to break down into tears, almost as if the concept of them breaking up or separating was foreign to him. “What exactly did we fight over, Y/N? That doesn’t seem normal for the two of us.” Sirius asked.

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a normal predicament for us. either…”

Sirius slammed the door shut, efficiently pinning her against it with his white button up ruffled up, navy tie hanging from his neck loosely. Y/N’s arms were held down tightly against the oak wood, the sensation of the cold door burning into her rather warm skin making her squeal. Her husband’s tongue worked its way through her parted lips, low groans rising from the back of his throat from the way she moaned in tandem with his hips pushing into hers. Legs wrapped around his tapered waist, the pink, floral skirt Y/N wore rising high on her thighs, revealing more of her flesh to the lust-filled man. Both of their giggles echoed off the hallway walls of their small cottage home, just four miles west of their best friends’. 

As the twenty year-old man threw his wife unceremoniously on the bed, he shed himself of his shirt and swiftly unbuttoned his slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room. Merlin, Y/N looked ethereal laying spread out on the bed, panties around her left ankle, swollen lips parted with short puffs of air leaving them. “You just get right down to business, don’t you, Black.” 

Crawling over his body, his hot breath hit her neck as he growled against her skin. “Could say the same thing about you, darling.” Sirius’ lips made their way down every inch, every curve, nook, and cranny of Y/N’s body, smoothly slipping her clothes off as he did so. Her sweet gasps filled the bedroom, back arching off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight, sweetheart, we’re-”

Y/N sat up straight, her eyebrows trained in confusion at her husband. “What? A baby?” 

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest. “Yes.” He remarked in a clipped tone. “Is that not what you wanted?” 

Her mind recalled her words from earlier that day, as she chatted happily with Lily about the news of her pregnancy. “Siri, I said I may one day enjoy having a kid of my own. Not right now, of course, but later. After all, we only got married a few months ago, don’t you think we should hold off a bit on that? We’re twenty years-old, Siri, there’s so many years for that.”

Rage filled Sirius’ blood like a spreading fire. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much about his anger as it was his hurt and fear. Fear that she had realized how fucked up he truly was, fear that she realized what he had known all along- that she deserved better than him. “So you don’t want a baby with me?”

“I never said I didn’t want that, Sirius, I just said that I’m not ready!” Y/N yelled back. At this point both of them stood on opposite sides of the bed, faces hot with tears. “We’re in the middle of a bloody war, people we know, people we love, have lost their lives, and it is not the ideal environment to raise a child, Sirius! Just because James and Lily are ready to have one doesn’t mean that I am too!”

“When will you be ready, Y/N? When will it ever be enough time for you? When will I be enough for you?” The heartbroken girl tried to interject, but her voice was cut off by her husband’s quickly enough. Sirius climbed onto the bed, holding her chin harshly with one hand. “Tell me, did you ever want to be with me in the first place?”

“Yes, Sirius, of course I wanted to be with you.” His heart hurt looking at the love of his life in tears, but even that was able to melt his cold facade. “I love you more than anything in the world.” 

“Then fucking prove it, Y/N.” With that declaration, he removed his hand from her face and gathered his clothes, slamming everything in their shared room as Y/N quivered, knees ready to buckle on the spot. “I’m going out, don’t wait up for me.”  

As soon as the front door shut, she fell to the ground in tears, the laughter that once filled their home replaced with the sound of her shattered heart. 

Y/N had done her best to not tear up during her explanation of the events that had taken that night, but Sirius' eyes watered, refusing to believe the truth. “No. No. I didn’t do that. Y/N, tell me,” he gripped her biceps with trembling hands, “please tell me I didn’t really do that. I can’t believe that I-I, that I-”

“You were drunk, Sirius, I don’t think you truly knew what you were saying at the time.” She sighed, “But people always say that drunken words are just sober thoughts.” Y/N rubbed her arms, just shivering slightly in the Scotland breeze. “You came back two hours later punching the wall and breaking it, and that’s when I knew that we wouldn’t last.” 

The raven-haired boy’s head started to shake, even more mortified of the actions that his future self, the man he’d be in just two years' time, had done. “I packed up my things, not that there were many, we’d only moved into the house a month before, left, and I sent the divorce papers a week later. It was probably better that way, you would’ve divorced me if I hadn’t done it first.” Y/N had gotten used to telling her sob story to colleagues at Beauxbatons, to her family, but it felt different with pre-divorce Sirius. Of course, she had never thought she’d be in this citation either, so no one could really blame her for feeling weird. “You signed them easily, and my lawyer made sure that I never had to see you again.”  Until Lily and James died.

“Until…” Sirius led on.

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius, you’ve always been able to read my mind. Shouldn’t have doubted it for a second.” He smiled at the sentiment, gesturing for her to continue. “I can’t tell you, Sirius, I hope you can understand that.”

“Why, Y/N, what happens that can be any worse in the future?” Oh dear, Sirius, you really do not want the answer to that question. She needed any way out of this conversation, after all running away was what she did best, and her eyes already searched for several routes to which she could run. Not that Y/N could ever outrun Sirius in his animagus form, but it was nice to have the belief that she could. The boy sensed her distress and grabbed hold of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, darling, but I have to admit that I am a bit worried, just in the slightest.”

Y/N let herself calm down, squeezing Sirius’ hand and noticing his watch. She had actually given him that watch, gold-plated and dark grey metal, but it wasn’t the beauty of the gift that caught her eye, but rather the actual time on it. One-thirty. 

How had that much time gone by so quickly? She was going to be sucked into the black void of time travel again in ten minutes, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to unload nearly twenty years worth of history onto Sirius. No, he would go insane from that much knowledge, which was exactly against what Malia had advised. 

“I don’t have enough time to tell you everything that happens in the future, Sirius. But what I am about to tell you is vital, absolutely vital for the good of all of us in the future.” Sirius nodded with a serious sort of smile on his face. “Don’t let Peter be Lily and James’ secret keeper. When the time comes that they move away, I’m not going to tell you where yet, do not under any circumstances let Peter be their secret keeper. I know he’s one of our best friends right now, and do not tell anyone about this, but he’s going to betray us in the worst way possible.” 

While Sirius was shocked, he nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his long hair. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. Can I fix us, Y/N? I don’t know if you should be letting the key to a happier future rest in my hands.”

“I full heartedly trust that you’ll do some good, whatever the outcome may be. As for fixing us, I hope you can, but depending on what happens we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sighed, “If you want my opinion on it, I think that we both should have waited longer to get married. It was right after James and Lily got married, but we aren’t and never will be them. We both had a lot of growing up to do, so I would take it slowly. Communicate your wants and needs in the relationship and in the end it may not even be us together. But I know you, Siri, don’t let this get in the way of your entire life. The most important part is that you tell James and Lily about Peter.”  

She glanced back up the school grounds where students could start to be seen leaving their classes. “You better get back to the castle, Sirius. McGonagall is going to come for your arse and this time the boys aren’t going to be able to cover for you.”

“If they knew where I was, darling, I don’t even think they’d believe me.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. “You can do this, sweetheart, and even if you can’t, it will not stop me from loving you any less. Maybe the future wasn’t meant to be changed, but regardless of whether that is true or not, I know that you will try your hardest, Sirius. Just try not to die, okay?”

The boy was still clutching onto her tightly, his tears soaking her rose-colored blouse. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

With one last kiss on the forehead, she smiled at him. “I know you will, Siri.” 

-

Y/N’s arse hit the floor once again, her spine cracking once again. “What’s the year?” She yelled out, reaching for the walls of the black family room. 

But it wasn’t there. Upon opening her eyes, she saw James, Lily, and Sirius sitting at a wooden table in her old white cottage. A nice tea set, her grandmother’s as she realized later, sat in the center, along with a large stack of letters. “Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you, I’ve been worried sick!” 

Her red-headed best friend scurried over to her, brushing invisible dirt off her shoulders and pulling her up abruptly. James fixed the glasses on his nose, cleaning them off with his striped jumper. “You look a little disheveled right now, Y/N, what ran you over?” 

“You know who she reminds me of right now, Jamie? That crazy witch friend of Dumbledore’s that made her way onto campus back in seventh year.” Lily giggled as she hugged Y/N.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re right!” James walked over to the woman of the hour, ruffling her hair with a smirk on his face. “If you were about twenty years older I’d have no trouble believing you were the same person.”

While Lily and James recalled their memories from the strange woman all those years ago at Hogwarts, Sirius pulled Y/N aside, an arm wrapped around her waist. The warmth radiating from his body was nice, embracing her in a comfort she hadn’t felt in so long.

“I’m going to go ahead and believe that I did something right?” Sirius grabbed her hand, and only then did she notice the coolness of metal sitting on her left ring finger. There sat the single band of gold, a small ruby encased in its plating. She had once joked that diamonds were too overrated, and he went out and got her the most vibrant gem he could find, claiming that it was just like her. But regardless of its shape, size, or type of gem, it was there.

“Yeah, Siri,” Y/N replied with tears in her eyes, “you did good.” 

“Oi, Blacks, stop making out and get over here, we got a letter from Minnie!” James yelled, making both wives chuckle. “Harry’s gotten himself in detention for punching Malfoy again.”

“Oh, thank Merlin, the boy deserves a few more good hits.” Sirius laughed. 

“McGonagall still talks to us?” Y/N asked in amazement. “You’ve got to get me caught up.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Sirius gently placed his lips onto hers, and for once in nearly twenty years, Y/N felt at peace. There were no more hasty warnings of the future, no psychotic old men coming after her family, no young girls rushing in to tell her how to fix her screwed up life. Cracked, pink lips moving against her own, his tongue delving into her mouth, and Y/N knew she was finally off the clock.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Have you ranted/expressed your thoughts on Peter Pettigrew yet? If not, then I'm sure we'd love to hear it!

I don’t think I actually have yet.

Wow, this brings us to the last of the Marauders. What an age.

Peter, what to say about Peter?

Well, I guess to start, for me he’s actually the closest to what JKR intended to write with him. He’s the sniveling cowardly character who sells his very soul if only to save his own life and reaps the rewards for it. This is a rare experience for me, as shown by my many rants, I rarely agree with what JKR actually intended.

In fact, it gives me this strange surreal feeling inside that I’m not sure what to do with. Peter wasn’t secretly good? He wasn’t secretly a coward? He wasn’t somehow 10,000x worse than what I already thought he was? I mildly agree with JKR? What is this?

But yes.

I see Peter as the fourth guy in the dorm room and somebody who’s distinctly aware of it. When it came to James, Sirius, and Remus he’s the friend that nobody likes and in his desperation to not be that friend he just makes it worse. He happened to be sorted into the same year, into the same room, and because of that he was included in on things. I imagine him laughing way too hard at Sirius and James’ jokes (therefore making them awkward and not funny anymore), probably subtly bribing his friends with expensive things/food by picking up the bill at the Three Broomsticks or buying the fanciest gifts, trying to make his own jokes that are probably just as bad as James and Sirius’ but they just look at him and say, “Dude, you can’t say that”, and always nearly being left behind or left out of the adventure of the day (and when he’s brought along it’s probably because James and Sirius’ know he’ll give them so much grief if they leave him behind).

McGonagall talks briefly about Peter in “The Prisoner of Azkaban” and notes that even the professors didn’t really like him. He was this whining, obnoxious, fat kid who was always hanging on to James and Sirius while everyone wondered when the pair would dump him. So, basically, no one likes Peter and he’s trying way too hard and is desperate for friends.

Then the war happens and shit gets real.

All his friends immediately sign up to be a part of Albus Dumbledore’s secret guerilla army. As Peter always does what his friends do, and would probably lose all his friends had he not signed up, he signs up too. He then realizes that Dumbledore’s serious about sending untrained school children into combat. Peter, I imagine, barely squeaked by in Defense Against the Dark Arts and is probably an awful duelist. He, in fact, is probably an entirely useless member of the Order and is there for moral support. Well, several members of the Order of the Phoenix are entirely useless, most of them actually... I think Dumbledore just kind of likes telling people what to do and then making them babysit Harry and only ever giving real work to Snape who is both a) competent b) is kind of forced to be loyal to Dumbledore.

BUT ANYWAYS.

Shit’s getting real, I imagine Peter starts shitting bricks. He wants out but if he gets out then James and Sirius will never speak to him again. And here’s where I start headcanoning things. I think Peter’s betrayal was fairly late in the game.

Here’s how I imagine it goes. The order starts suspecting Remus of being a traitor not because information is necessarily leaking but because he’s a werewolf and has literally 0 reason other than his gratitude to Dumbledore and his shitty one-sided friendship with Sirius and James to be loyal to the ministry. This is a government that will keep him homeless for the rest of his days and with a snap of their fingers might send him to a penal colony simply for existing if not murder him. When they realize that Voldemort’s made an active alliance with the only really organized werewolves in the country, Remus, just by sitting in the Order, looks really really really bad.

I imagine this gets Peter thinking. Before, hypothetically, he could simply leave. He won’t because James and Sirius would call him a miserable coward, but he could. Now, what if Remus is a spy? What if Remus starts leaking names? Peter would have to leave the country, and even that might not be good enough, the Dark Lord could probably track him down anywhere and when he does... Peter will wish he had never been born.

I think that’s when Peter gets the idea. Remus might not be a traitor now, maybe, but he probably will become one. Worse, the war’s not going well at all, the aurors are completely useless and the government’s virtually run by Voldemort already and the only thing seemingly in its way is this collection of school children and housewives called The Order of the Phoenix. Some of whom, I imagine, have very loose lips and could make it all too easy to find out who these people are.

Peter has to beat Remus to the punch. Peter decides to become a mole for the dark lord. Now, canon implies that Peter was a spy when Lily and James go into hiding. Personally, I don’t buy it. I think it’s more that they were convinced Remus was a spy and that James was such a loud mouth he was probably awful at keeping anything secret, Voldemort didn’t really need spies. 

Because Peter has no skills to offer Voldemort other than an ear in Order meetings. He’s not a good duelist, he’s not like Snape where he’s a potions’ master, he doesn’t appear to be particularly good at anything. He’s just nicely slimey.

So, I imagine he is the one to convince James, Lily, and Sirius to make him secret keeper so that he has leverage. He becomes a Death Eater, is offered protection and security, and in return he gives the dark lord the Potter’s location. He sells out his best friend’s family to save his own life.

Only, it all goes horribly wrong. The Dark Lord dies, Sirius immediately comes for Peter and he has 0 protection, the fight happens and then Peter Pettigrew must disappear. And he finds himself stuck as a rat for over ten years.

He probably debates whether or not he could miraculously come out of hiding or not. Except too much time passes. How would he explain where he went and why he didn’t show up immediately? What if they interrogated him with veritiserum? What if they went back and actually questioned Sirius? What if some other vengeful Order member figures it out and tries the same thing Sirius did?

Peter is so debilitated by terror that he chooses every day to live as Scabbers. And he grows used to it. Just, god, the level of sheer slimy cowardice to live as a rat for the rest of your life eating god knows what and sleeping in the pocket of little boys. God, Peter’s such a great awful character. You beautiful, terrible, man.

The rest is history: Peter’s found out, has to flee back to Voldemort, and then spends the rest of his days in surreal hell as he has to nurture devil baby Voldemort back to health, cut off his own hand, and probably wishes he was never born but is just too cowardly to die with any honor.

Peter’s in this hell ride until the very end and it just keeps getting worse.

What a legend.

[heldtheline]

alistair + amell | an unhappy ending

Spotify link (25 songs, 1:37); it was them against the world and the world won.

This playlist was inspired by a DAI playthrough I did a few years back. It was based on my canon DAO/DA2 world state, where Alistair is King, Amell is his mistress, and mage rights for everybody. I was about a quarter of the way through when I realised that my Amell & Alistair couldn't last. So I was inspired to tell their story.

tl;dr version: Amell & Alistair are super naive about the realities of ruling a kingdom, Amell is stridently 'mage rights or mage fights', lots of political bullshit, loving people is hard

worship; years & years. my longing drives me crazy for you | my kingdom for your graces | i'm not gonna tell nobody | i'm not gonna tell nobody 'bout you

The Landsmeet has ended. Alistair now has a kingdom, a Queen, and a mistress. But he's still the same ol' Alistair.

sinners; lauren aquilina. and let's be winners by mistake | the world may disapprove | but my world is only you | and if we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me

Amell has never really liked playing by other people's rules.

bedroom door; broods. so shut up the bedroom door | and shut out the world some more | i know your head gets sore when you're not near me | and drop your clothes on the floor | you've had a hard day I know | i've had a hard day too | i can forget with you

The Arlessa and the King spend some time together.

save tonight; eagle-eye cherry. tomorrow comes to take me away | i wish that i, that i could stay | girl you know I've got to go, oh | lord i wish it wasn't so

And in the morning they must both return to their duties.

don't let me down; the chainsmokers + daya. i think i'm losing my mind now | it's in my head, darling, i hope | that you'll be here when i need you the most | so don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down

The mages were promised their independence. Amell would like to know when it is coming.

take on the world; you me at six. and just say the word, we'll take on the world | just say you're hurt, we'll face the worst | nobody knows you, the way that I know you

The Vigil has fallen & now Anders is missing. Alistair reminds his love that she always has his support.

secret love song, part ii; little mix. why can't i say that i'm in love? | i wanna shout it from the rooftops | i wish that it could be like that | why can't we be like that? 'cause i'm yours

This arrangement was her idea in the first place, but Amell didn't realise that it would be so ... restricting.

sleep it off; niki & gabi. let's call a truce inside each others arms | cause it's a lie to think we're better off apart

The burdens of leadership are taking their toll on our dear Wardens.

half light; banners. when you're in the half-light | it is not you i see | and you live a half-life | you only show half to me

Amell is working on something. Alistair is worried about her.

the other side; ruelle. i don't want to know | who we are without each other | it's just too hard

Amell is suffocating in Denerim. She plays the part of the Hero because she loves Alistair but she is meant to do so much more.

are you with me; nilu. so wake up and stay with me | cause i'm starting to think | that i never actually had you

Amell wonders where she features on Alistair's list of priorities these days; not as high as she once was, she suspects.

armor; landon austin. after the war is won | there's always the next one | i'll do what it takes to make this right

Alistair recognises the part he has played in the plight of mages in Ferelden. He can't make things right but he wants to try.

worst of you; maisie peters. so give me your worst excuses, any reason to stay | give me your lips that taste of her, i'd kiss them again | i'd rather you walk all over me than walk away | give me the worst of you | cause i want you anyway | so take me to every party and just talk to your friends | why don't you let me down, i'll let you do it again

Amell shares the man she loves with his wife. She lives in luxury while her childhood friends have been killed or, worse, made Tranquil. Putting Alistair on the throne was supposed to change things for the better, but it's made it all so much worse.

oceans; seafret. we hide our emotions | under the surface and try to pretend | but it feels like there's oceans | between you and me

Things are fine. Absolutely fine. Things between the King and the Warden are absolutely not strained. (And the Hero of Ferelden is absolutely not using her wealth and position to undermine the Chantry. Absolutely not.)

fall for you (acoustic); secondhand serenade. the best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting | it couldn't be that we have been this way before | i know you don't think that i am trying | i know you're wearing thin down to the core

They have been in love for nearly a decade but relationships are hard, even without the weight of a crown.

battlefield; jordin sparks. i never meant to start a war | you know i never wanna hurt you | don't even know what we're fighting for

Alistair has returned from Kirkwall and his reunion with Amell is a bit rough. She is tired of fighting about mages; he is just tired.

which to bury, us or the hatchet?; relient k. this didn't turn out the way i thought it would at all | you blame me but some of this is still your fault | i tried to move you, but you just wouldn't budge

In the middle of yet another argument, Amell reveals something that Alistair has long suspected: she only convinced him to take the crown because she thought it would be better for the cause of mages. That's going to take some time to process.

landfill; daughter. don't you dare look back | walk away | catch up with the sunrise

Kirkwall's chantry lies in ruins. Amell has become politically expendable, much to the relief of Eamon & Anora. Amell dares Alistair to walk away.

killing me to love you; vancouver sleep clinic. it’s growing faster than you’ve grown | now you’re stronger than yourself | i’m fighting for you | i’m hiding for you | but it’s killing me to love you

The war that Amell has been wanting is finally on the horizon but Alistair feels like he's been fighting it for years.

monster; dodie. we shout in our heads, "are you still in there?" | well, this ends bad then, we knew it would | so we won't eat our words, 'cause they don't taste good

Amell & Alistair argue about Anders, mages, and freedom. Sides are chosen, words are said... hearts are a little broken.

already gone; sleeping at last. remember all the things we wanted | now all our memories, they're haunted | we were always meant to say goodbye

One of them was supposed to die in the battle ten years ago. Maybe their love truly wasn't meant to survive for as long as it did has.

who knew; pink. when someone said count your blessings now | 'fore they're long gone | i guess i just didn't know how | i was all wrong | they knew better, still, you said forever | and ever, who knew?

Their relationship survived time, political scheming and even an Archdemon but it couldn't survive them.

capsize; frenship & emily warren. up at night i'm awake cause it haunts me | that i never got to say what i wanted | oh my god, oh my god | i’m not the same as i was with you

The Warden has gone missing.

hymn for the missing; red. why did you go? | i had to stay | now i'm reaching for you | will you wait, will you wait? | will i see you again?

The mage rebellion takes shelter in Redcliffe. Most posit that it's due to the town owing its survival to the Circle. The truth? The King had hoped that this would be enough to bring the Warden back home.

you and i; pvris. i know it's warmer where you are | and it's safer by your side | but right now, i can't be what you want | just give it time

Once again the Warden's home is the road; alongside a few treasured companions, she travels in search of answers to a variety of questions regarding the Calling, but also about the nature of spirits. When she has the answers she needs, if Ferelden still welcomes her, she will return.

[anbudrky2021]

The 𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢 Sound of 𝒯𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 │ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕟

Ch 1: a god, a boy, and my dead mom.

Smut warning. Please click here for series description and TWs. 💕

“Thor!" I yelled from my mom's basement. No response. I turned around and sighed. "THOR!!" I yelled louder.

"Woah, there. No need to yell, I'm right here," Thor came around the corner of the stairs and crinkled his nose at me as he slightly mocked me.

"I've been calling you down here for like ten minutes. I could have been dying." I took the bottle he was holding in his hand and took a swig. "Gross." I said, taking another sip.

He smirked at me and took it back. "No. You just have bad taste." He cocked his eyebrow. "And you're not dying or dead. So what did you need?"

I pointed up at the box on the top shelf. "There. The black box. I need it. It has the key I was talking about." My brightly painted finger nails glistened as I pointed.

He reached up, hoisting the box down with one hand. "Y'know. I love your nails. Nat and I always talk about how much we like them." He set the box down.

"Uhh....ok....." I looked at him confused.

"Well she doesn't get hers done and she comments on them. And I just like the different colors. You know what-never mind." He rolled his eyes. "Just get the key." He kicked at the box and walked away.

"Aw. Thor. I'm sorry. Thank you for the compliment. I appreciate it. Just kinda random. Especially from you." I said, thoughtfully, as I opened the box.

Papers, receipts. Awards and photos. I dug through them all, ignoring the sentimental value until I got to the smaller box inside of it.

"What? A grown man can't compliment a lady on her nails?" He rolled his eyes and finished off his bottle. "See that's why you're single. Your standards are low..." he mocked a bar on the ground.

"Obviously. It's so low I have resorted to fucking Pet-" I stopped myself. I turned red as a tomato, shut the big box and fiddled with the small one.

"Uh, since when?!" Thor was almost giddy with excitement. He grabbed the box out of my hand and pried it open. He handed me the key and put both boxes up as I pretended to ignore him.

"No, no. You have to answer me." He snatched the key and held it above my head.

"Thor. No. Now give it to me!" I jumped up and couldn't reach it.

"Give it to you? Oh, is my name Peter now? I can just see it..." he pretended to have Peter's webs and shot them at me. In the process I grabbed the key and stomped up the steps.

He followed after me, using a high pitched soft tone, moaning "Oh, Peter! MY spidey senses are tingling toooooo!!!"

I halted on the step, causing Thor to almost crash into me. "Just because you didn't want to fuck anymore doesn't mean you can make fun of me. Or Peter. Peter raises the bar if he does anything to it. He's kind and GIVING. He DOES raise my standards. Better than the likes of you." I flicked his nose and turned up the steps. We made it back to the car without him saying a word.

After a few minutes on the highway. He finally spoke.

"Y/N I'm sorry..." Thor said quietly. His generally booming tone was soft and solemn.

"Thank you, Thor. That's really mat-"

"THAT YOU HAD TO RESORT TO BASICALLY FUCKING A BOY AFTER BEING WITH A GOD!" He laughed hysterically, tears in his eyes.

I slammed on the breaks and careened into the shoulder. "You. ASSHOLE!!!!" I punched his arm and smacked his cheek. "Go ride your goddamn hammer home you jerk!" Tears fell from my eyes as I yelled at him. "You're the meanest, nastiest..." I sobbed. "I hate you."

He was quiet again. This time the silence was different. "Y/N...please don't cry. I hate when you cry..." he tried to wipe a tear but I swatted him away. He sighed.

"Listen. I know...we ended things on a weird note. But I want to be friends...I do. I just don't know how..." he fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

"For starters. Stop bringing up our past. Secondly stop making fun of me and thirdly DON'T CHASTISE ME AFTER WE LEAVE MY DEAD MOM'S HOUSE!!" I paused. "And don't make fun of Peter. He's so sweet and good to me." I looked up at Thor. He had his serious listening face on.

"Yes, ma'am. Promise me you won't bring up who you're screwing... I can't handle it. Not yet." He looked out the window.

"That's rich..." I scoffed, pulling back onto the highway. "Me not tell you??" I shook my head and laughed. "Mister go out every night. New lady friends waltzing in and out..."

He blushed. He ran his hand through his hair and then cleared his throat. "Anything to numb the pain, right?" His words stung. I had said the same thing to him almost two years ago. The first time we hooked up, we were trashed. My mom had just died.

"Tony is gonna be so mad..." Thor whispered-yelled as we got into the back of his new Audi. We both laughed as he pulled me in on top of him. His hands rode up my skirt and got lost under the fabric, gripping my ass.

"Mister Odinson...my lord...how scandalous." I giggled in his ear and my hips involuntarily rocked against him. I could feel his cock grow under me. He gripped me harder and rocked me against him again. I moaned in his ear. I pulled away from his face just for a moment.

My hands went for his head and neck, lacing with his thick hair. We kissed and I felt my whole body melt. I needed him right then. Our kisses became rushed and his hands roamed my body like there was an emergency.

I reached down and unbuckled his belt, jeans, and unzipped them. He pulled them down just enough to reach into his boxer-briefs. His cock was as thick and manly as he was and I could feel my cunt begging for it.

I pulled my panties to the side and sunk down onto him. We both moaned out in what seemed to be perfect unison. It took a minute or so of laughter and adjusting but we found a good rhythm and angle.

"Oh, yes..please just like that." I moaned as I rode him. He had begun to use his thumb to rub my clit as I rocked into his cock. It was grazing the perfect spot inside of me. I gripped the headrest of the nearest seat and quickened my pace.

"That's my girl. Cum on me. I wanna feel you grip me." He was panting. I could tell he was close, too.

"Thor, Thor I'm gonna cum." My eyes slammed shut, my lip was stuck between my teeth. My fingernails dug deep into his shoulder and into the headrest. I felt my back arching and then complete collapse. My forehead pressed against his. I rode him more, focusing on his pleasure, trying to manage the sensitivity of my pussy but it was overwhelming.

"Don't give up. Ride me. I want to fill up your cunt. I've wanted you since the day I met you." He gripped my hair and pulled my head back, revealing my neck. His tone, his words, the grit in his voice. I felt the heat building. Nobody had ever said anything like that to me. I did as I was told and kept riding him.

Thor sucked on my neck and gripped my hips. He guided me to the pace he liked and met my hips with his own thrusts from beneath me.

"You're going to cum again" He commanded me. I had never done that before either. I'd always been too nervous because I was so sensitive after the first time.

But the tension inside of me built as I rode him and he bucked under me. The sweat started to form on my neck and back. My breathing matched his in their ragged and uneven waves.

"I'm going to cum inside you and I want you to cum immediately. You'll love it." His grip on my hips tightened. I was sure I would bruise. And he came. Just like he said. And I did as well just as he said. I could feel the new sensation along with my second orgasm and that was enough to send me into overdrive. My legs shook and my screams were obscene. Thor held me in a gentle and balancing manner for a moment before placing a kind kiss on my nose and forehead.

“Now...Y/N. I know we're drunk. But don't tell me you haven't wanted that since you met me, too..." he winked. He helped me off of him and handed me his shirt to clean up with.

"Uhhh what will you wear?" I asked, almost ashamed.

"Like they haven't seen me walk in shirtless before." He rolled his eyes.

"Uh...and to answer your question. Honestly at this point...anything to numb the pain." I flung his shirt back at him.

Back then I hadn't noticed the hurt on his face but now...recalling that moment and seeing him in the present. I could see it.

"Thor..." I started to apologize but Peter's name popped up on the incoming call screen. I gave him an "I'm sorry" look and answered.

"Pete. Hey buddy!" I said trying to sound chipper.

"Buddy? That's not what you were calling me las-"

"Speaker." I nervously laughed. "You're on speaker phone..." the line was silent. I could imagine Peter just tapping the phone to his head mouthing "stupid, stupid, stupid..."

"Right. Uh. Well. Ok. Ummmm...."

Thor rolled his eyes.

"Peter?" I inched.

"Yeah. Uh. Tony wanted me to check in with y'all. He said something about not trusting you two in a car? He said something about a detail bill that still needs to be paid?" He sounded confused. Tony was such an asshole sometimes. He knew about me and Thor. And me and Peter. But Peter didn't know about my history with ole' thunder boy. I know Tony loves Peter to death but...he doesn't know when to stop sometimes.

"Anyway." Peter said. I could hear laughing in the background. "How's it going?"

"We got they key. Headed home. No issues." Thor said, hanging up.

"Thor!" I almost yelled. "That wasn't nice..."

"Yeah and Tony making jokes at his expense was?" He shut his eyes, crossed his arms, and stayed silent the rest of the way home.

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 24

February 29th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was laying in her bed looking at her phone.  

A special Blueprint had been uploaded to the Leafs’ official YouTube page and their official website titled “Family Birthdays”.  Filmed perfectly.  Cut perfectly.  Produced perfectly.  It was only two minutes long and featured all the guys.  But the main feature was her.  

The video began as Sheldon’s speech did, except the camera wasn’t on him – it was on Brendan and Aberdeen watching him intently.  When he called out Jason’s name and Jason walked in with the cake, Aberdeen watched her own face drop and change and contort.  The camera cut to some of the guys singing – Willy and Tyson and Auston, then Zach, then Travis – and then back to her once they began cheering.  Brendan started his speech.  The camera cut to some more players.  Then it showed her speech.  The last thirty seconds of the video featured snippets of afterwards – the music playing and the guys dancing, most of them with cake in their hands; Auston shoving a giant piece of it into his mouth; Tyson grabbing Aberdeen and dancing with her to the more upbeat song like they were in the 1950s and at a party.  The closing clip was one of Aberdeen smiling from ear to ear, then one of Brendan smiling from ear to ear too as he stared directly at her.  The Blueprint logo came up on the screen.  It was over.

Aberdeen had never appeared prominently in a video from the Leafs before.  She was in the background of some of the Blueprints, usually always with Brendan and once with Kyle and Peter, but she was mostly anonymous.  Now, with this video, she was known: she was named, shown, shown dancing, and it was clearly evident she’d been with the organization for a while and that the team loved her.  To anybody watching, she seemed ingrained within the institution that was the Toronto Maple Leafs.  The fans seemed to love it – the team had won the game, after all, and had a successful Florida road trip because they also won against Florida on Thursday 5-3.  The fans thought it was cute.  She thought it was cute, too, but wondered now if people, especially people throughout the NHL, would actually recognize her instead of just walking by and ignoring her unless she stood beside Brendan.

Regardless, she went about her morning routine – washing her face, brushing her teeth, doing her hair, putting her moisturizer on.  She fed Minerva and applied her makeup.  It was a Hockey Night in Canada tonight against the Vancouver Canucks, but Brendan was letting her leave after the first period for her birthday party.  A bunch of friends were coming over for pre-drink before they left for Toybox, the nightclub where she’d be having the party (everyone she knew and loved would be there except for Siena, who couldn’t come because of school).  There would be at least twenty of them.  They’d all pitched in to get a table and bottle service.  It would all be very fun, and considering Aberdeen’s clubbing days would probably come to an end soon (serious job, serious boyfriend, serious ambition to be a writer), she wanted it to be very fun. 

Lou was taking Brendan to a dentist appointment that morning, so Aberdeen was planning to just walk to work herself.  She could get in a little later than usual – around 9:45 or 10 – since Brendan wasn’t going to be in either.  So she took her time.  She made herself breakfast.  She turned on the news.  She cuddled with Minerva.  She admired the birthday gift that arrived from Willy last night when she got home from work – he had somehow managed to track down and buy a first edition copy (literally a la 1895) of The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, her favourite play.  He did good.  He did damn good.  Between the ring at Christmas and this, Aberdeen couldn’t believe he did that good.  

She took out her phone.

Hope you have a good practice this morning ❤️

thank u minskatt

Are you still in bed lol

love u and yes lol

love you too

don’t judge me

After a while, with time going faster than she liked, Aberdeen put on her coat, hat, scarf, and boots and made her way downstairs.  When she opened the doors of her building, she noticed a guy in a grey Canada Goose jacket and a tan messenger bag smoking almost right outside the door.  She’d never seen him before.  It was entirely plausible that he lived in the building, but he wouldn’t have come down to have a smoke.  She figured he was probably waiting for someone, and went on her merry way.

As she walked down the street, she texted on her phone and made sure to avoid any ice on the sidewalk.  The cold air gave way for a quiet morning – there weren’t a lot of people out walking.  It was also because it was later than usual morning “rush hour”.  From behind her, she heard someone cough extremely loudly – one of those loud smoker’s coughs that could be heard from a mile away.  She looked behind her.

It was the guy from outside her building.  

She felt a shiver run up her spine, and it wasn’t from the cold.  Okay.  Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt.  Maybe he had finished his cigarette and was walking the same way she was to his work.  Maybe they had the same route.

Maybe she should take a detour, just in case.  

She turned a corner.  It was technically the wrong way – well, not a wrong way, but it was less direct and a route that made her commute maybe five minutes longer than usual.  She waited about a minute before looking back again.  He turned the corner too.  She felt the shiver run up her spine again.

She turned another wrong corner onto Wellington Street.  Waited a few moments.  Looked back.  

There he was.  

She felt her heart beat increase rapidly.  She was being followed.  She was being followed.  She was freaking out.  She had no idea who this guy was, what he wanted from her, nothing.  She had no clue.  She increased her pace and looked for a storefront amidst all the bank buildings, and she thanked the Lord when she saw a Starbucks.  She climbed the steps and went inside.  It was pretty busy, but not busy enough that she’d be lost within the crowd.  She waited to see whether the man would just walk by or stop.

He stopped in front and lit another cigarette.  

She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.  She tried to steady her breathing as much as possible as she took out her phone and called the one number she thought to call.  

“Minskaaaaaatt, what are you—”

“—Willy?” Aberdeen asked frantically into the phone.

William noticed her tone immediately.  “What’s wrong?”

“Willy I think someone’s following me.”

“Following you?” his tone was dead serious.  

She arched her neck to look out the window and saw the guy was still there, pretending to type away on his phone.  “I—I left my apartment this morning, and I noticed this guy standing outside with a messenger bag smoking and—and I didn’t think much of it, but then I started walking down the street, and he started following me.  And so I started to walk down a different route to work just in case but he—he kept following, and now I’m in the Starbucks at York and Wellington and he’s standing outside pretending to be on the phone but he’s waiting for me and—”

“Stay right there.  I’m going to come get you.”

As if her heart wasn’t already beating rapidly out of fear, now the pace increased tenfold.  She’d called him because he was her boyfriend, because he was the first person she thought to call, but now she realized how much of a grave mistake that was.  “No – no – Willy, you can’t.  Brendan will know and—”

“Stay there and don’t leave.”

“Willy—no, Willy—” she tried, but he had already hung up the phone.  She couldn’t think straight.  She was freaking out, and not just because she was getting stalked by someone.  She should have called Brendan first.  Or Jason, or—

Well, she could text them.  She pulled up Brendan’s number first.  She hoped he’d see it before Willy could do anything.  I’m at York and Wellington Starbucks.  I am being followed by someone.  Can you please come and pick me up?  She pulled up Jason’s number, too.  I’m at York and Wellington Starbucks.  I am being followed from my apartment.  Please get someone to help me.

As she waited, nobody texted her back.  She started to become nervous.  She even sent a few more texts to Willy about getting someone to help him and calling Brendan to help deal with it but he wasn’t responding, and it just made her more nervous.  Jason – never one to leave her on read, even for the simplest of messages – hadn’t responded.  She wondered if he was already driving to practice.  Or with Jen.  Or with his girls.  Or at their school.  Or—

The man still wasn’t leaving.  

Aberdeen gulped.  She didn’t know what to do.  She couldn’t stay in this Starbucks forever even though it seemed this guy would wait that long.  If she left and continued her walk to work, should she acknowledge him?  Should she ignore him?  Should she call him out for following her?  And besides, how in the everlasting fuck did he know where she lived?!  She felt a pit forming in her stomach.  

But she went outside anyway.  Before she did, she started a video on her phone.  As she pushed open the doors from the Starbucks, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he saw her and locked his phone.  As she walked by him, he kept it in his hand.  She began to walk away, down the steps and onto the sidewalk, and she pretended to adjust her hair in her hat.  She saw he’d taken a step forward.  Her heart was racing, but she stopped walking.  She turned towards him boldly, cradling her phone against her chest so it wouldn’t seem like she was recording him.  

When he noticed that he’d been caught, a smile adorned his face.  It was probably nice in everyday life, but considering the circumstances, it was the creepiest thing Aberdeen had ever seen.  “Hey,” he greeted her with a friendly, pleasant voice.  “You know, I saw you in that Blueprint video where the Leafs bought you that birthday cake – you’re Aberdeen Bloom, aren’t you?  Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant?” the man asked.

Aberdeen found it extremely weird that this man knew her last name.  “How do you know where I live?” she demanded.

“I just overheard the guys talking about it one night and made an educated guess,” he shrugged his shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world.  It made Aberdeen’s blood run cold.  “You must recognize me from the media scrums.  I was wondering if you’d like to answer a few questions for me.”

She didn’t recognize him from the media scrums, although she was sure he was there.  Having probably exhausted his good rapport with the players due to his actions (if they were anything like this), the next best thing for him was to terrorize her.  “No.  I don’t speak to the media.  You need to go through—”

Suddenly, a car pulled up to the curb, the tires shrieking against the pavement.  Another car followed just as quickly, shrieking against the pavement as it also grinded to a halt.  From the second car, William barely waited for it to stop before he got out of the passenger’s seat.  Jason followed him from the driver’s seat.  “Get in the car,” William said firmly, not even looking at her.

She noticed Brendan get out of the backseat of the first car, and came to the realization that it was the town car – Lou was driving, waving at her to get in.  “Aberdeen, get in the car,” he echoed William’s sentiments.  “I’ll deal with this.”

She ran towards the town car, opening the door quickly and stuffing herself into the backseat.  She stopped the video on her phone as she watched through the window as Brendan approached the man, who had his hands up and was shaking his head like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes.  “Are you okay, Miss Bloom?” Lou asked from the front seat.  

“I’m okay,” she said.  “Just a bit spooked.”

“Mr. Shanahan freaked out when he got your text.  Almost had a heart attack, I think.”

Aberdeen nodded absent-mindedly, still watching through the window as Brendan looked like he was berating the man.  William looked exactly like he did the night she got hit by the glass – so angry but unable to formulate words – and she couldn’t tell if the redness on his cheeks was due to the cold or his anger.  Jason looked equally as angry, his head moving between Brendan and the man like he was watching Djokovic verses Federer.  When Brendan, William, and Jason dispersed back towards the cars, the man who had followed her was calling out towards Brendan in objection.  Brendan ignored him, and so did William and Jason.  He kept screaming, and Brendan kept ignoring.  

Aberdeen watched through the side mirrors as William and Jason got back in their car.  Brendan opened the backseat door and she turned her head to look at him as slipped in.  Lou began driving the second the door was closed.  “When did you notice him following you?” Brendan asked immediately.

“He was outside my building,” she revealed.

“Outside your building?!” he demanded.  He pulled out his phone.  “I—I’m calling Steve.  No media availability for practice.  None.”

“Brendan—”

“This motherfucker,” he seethed, ignoring Aberdeen’s voice.  “This motherfucker is never getting into our locker room again.”

“Brendan, I don’t care about the locker room,” Aberdeen chastised him.  “He knows where I live!”

“I already called the police.  They’re meeting us at practice,” he revealed.  “I already told them we’re drafting up a peace bond.  And if that fucker even thinks about contesting it, I’ll be out for blood.”

Aberdeen was trying to make sense of what he was saying, but it wasn’t registering in her head.  She’d heard Siena talk about peace bonds before in relation to something she was learning in law school, but Aberdeen couldn’t connect the dots right now.  “What—what’s a peace bond?” she asked.

“It’s essentially a restraining order,” he explained.  “Some of the players actually have them for some people or fans but we’re not going to get into that right now.  All you need to know is that he won’t be able to be anywhere near you, your apartment, work, nothing.  I’ll push for an entire kilometre away from you.  I don’t care if the fucker has to move.  He won’t get anywhere near you ever again.”

Aberdeen calmed down considerably as Brendan spoke, though she was still on edge.  “We…we can do that?”

“Yes.  It’s the—fuck!—it’s the same old story with some of these fucking clowns.  Can’t get what they want in the locker room so they go after office stuff and see which one breaks first.  It’s never enough – whatever we give them is never enough.  All for some inside scoop.”

Aberdeen saw how angry Brendan was about this.  It was like the Ethan situation all over again.  It was different in that, with Ethan, Brendan was calm but she could see the rage inside of him.  Now, she saw the rage both inside and outside.  “I just want to make sure I’ll never have to see him again,” Aberdeen said.

“You won’t,” Brendan seethed.  “I’ll make sure of it.”

***

Aberdeen didn’t exactly like talking to cops – she didn’t think anyone did – but there were two waiting at practice when she and Brendan got there.  They waited for William and Jason to get there, and once they arrived, they all went into a private room to give statements.  Aberdeen showed the cops the video she took.  It played at least seven different times, and each time, she watched William across the table getting redder and redder.  Except this time, he was more vocal.  “Is it possible we can do more than just a peace order?  I mean can’t we press charges?”  “This guy is an obvious threat to the team’s safety if he’s approaching office staff to try to get exclusives on us.”  It was all very…clinical.  She didn’t know the word to describe it.  But Brendan was adamant on the conditions of the peace order, and was adamant that they go even a step further than what some of the guys had because she was a young female.  What surprised her the most was when Brendan called up the guy – literally right from his phone – and the cops read out the peace bond.  This was still in front of William and Jason.  The guy fought back a little bit but Brendan was having none of it and threatened him with court.  The guy had no chance but to accept the conditions of the peace order.  He agreed to sign it.  He agreed to every condition.  The cops would take care of him signing it and filing the peace order with the RCMP.  

It was barely noon.  

When the police left, Aberdeen thanked them politely and watched as Willy and Jason did too.  She noticed William’s eyes on her as she heard Brendan thank them and offer to walk them out.  Then she saw Jason was looking at her too.  “Can I talk to you?  Alone?” he asked.

“Yeah.  Of course.”

She followed him to an empty hallway – one she had walked down hundreds of times while working the practices.  Jason made sure nobody else was around before he started speaking.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded her head.  “Just a bit spooked, as you can imagine.”

“Listen, I know you’ve got your parents’ place but my door is always open too if you or Kasha don’t feel safe in the apartment for the next little bit,” he offered.  God, she still needed to tell Kasha.  She still needed to call her fucking parents.  They were going to have a fit.  “You know Jen wouldn’t mind.”

“You’d add another girl to your house?” she tried to joke.

“Don’t joke about this,” he said, his voice so serious Aberdeen almost felt back for cracking the joke.  “Do you want to stay at my place?  Do you feel safe?”

“No.  And yes,” she said.  “No I do not want to stay at your place, but thank you for the offer.  And yes, I feel safe.  I mean, I feel safe right now, knowing that if he breaks that peace bond, he can go to jail.  That’s what’s making me feel safe right now.”

“It should.  It’s serious business.”

“Do you understand how lucky I am that the cops took it seriously and got it done within hours?  Because I guarantee you if it was just me filing the complaint, they wouldn’t have taken it seriously,” she said.  “They only took it seriously because of Brendan and him going apoplectic, and you know it.”

“I do know it,” Jason nodded his head.  “I’ve known it every day since my old teammate’s girlfriend had to get the exact same thing down in Dallas against a group of crazy girls who wanted to sleep with her boyfriend and threatened to show up at their house and suffocate her in her sleep.”

Okay, so apparently this was pretty commonplace.  Well, at least in hers and Jason’s lives.  While it wasn’t a crazy fangirl, he at least still understood where she was coming from.  “I guess I’m lucky he only wanted an inside scoop, I guess.”

Jason shook his head.  “I almost had a fucking heart attack when I saw that message.  You don’t even understand.  I was walking and I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around and started running to my car.  That’s when I saw Will.”

Ah, yes.  William.  She wondered where he was right now.  She’d have to find him after this conversation.  “Yeah.  I was shaking so much that for some reason, his name was the first to pop up.”

Jason stayed silent, nodding his head.  She could tell he was biting his tongue, wanting to say something, deciding whether or not it was worth it.  “Listen…I know…I know I shouldn’t even be asking this, but there’s nothing going on between you and Willy, is there?”

Aberdeen held her breath.  She had to lie to Siena.  She had to lie to Kasha.  Now, she had to lie to Jason.  It would have been inevitable, but she wished she didn’t have to, mostly because she respected him so much and knew how much he cared about her.  “No.  I just…we’re close – kinda – and listen – his crush isn’t exactly a secret, but it’s not like I’m doing anything while I’m working here,” she said, stumbling over her words a bit.  “I would never jeopardize my job or my career like that.”

“Right.  I know.  Sorry,” Jason kept nodding, now a bit bashful that he even brought it up.  “I just…you let him know, you know—”

“Because we’re close,” she reiterated.  “We’re practically the same age.  And because he’s the only guy around my age on the team who has even just some of his shit together because of the way he grew up.  I mean, I didn’t call Auston or Kappy for a reason.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, of course,” he actually cracked a smile.  “I just—sorry, Aberdeen.  I didn’t mean to be—”

“It’s okay, Jason,” she wished he’d just dropped it, because the more he dragged it on, the more she had to lie to him, and the more it killed her.  

There was a moment of silence before Jason spoke again.  “Kappy would have probably taken you to an oyster bar,” he quipped.

Aberdeen snorted.  She began laughing one of those silent laughs as she shook her head.  “You’re probably right.”

***

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:  Earlier today, a member of the Toronto Maple Leafs organization was followed from their residence to 50 Bay Street.  It is of the utmost importance that members of the Toronto Maple Leafs organization are allowed privacy in their personal lives and are not stalked, followed, and harassed on their way to employment.  Due to the unacceptable actions, we have terminated the media credentials and locker room access of the individual involved in the incident, and they will never be allowed back into our locker room.  We encourage those in the media to review the acceptable guidelines policy given at the beginning of each season.  Legal action has already been taken against the individual.  We will not be answering any further questions.

***

“She what?!” Zach Hyman was in disbelief at what William announced to the room.

“Who was it?” John asked.

“Are they pressing charges?” Tyson demanded.

“There’s already a peace bond – it’s like a restraining order,” Jason explained.  “He can’t get within, like, a kilometre of her or the arena without her pressing charges and him going to jail.”

The locker room was in disbelief at the news that Aberdeen had been stalked on her way to work that morning.  They knew the media could be crazy, they just didn’t know they could be that crazy.  To target a young female member of the office was unheard of.  Usually they were the ones being stalked, not the office staff.  “Is she okay?” Zach asked.  

“She’s doing fine.  She’s Aberdeen.  For what it’s worth I think she’s keeping it all in, just like last time, but that’s neither here nor there,” Jason said, alluding to the Ethan situation.  “It all happened so fast this morning.  That’s why nobody had to do media after practice today.  Brendan suspended it.”

William watched as Auston shook his head.  “That girl’s being put through the fucking ringer, dude.  First the Ethan thing, then that scar, now this?”

“I’m surprised she stays with us,” Tyson commented.

“I don’t.  She loves us,” Mitch spoke up.  “Just like we love her.  This is just…a series of unfortunate events.  Like that book series.”

“You read books?” Auston quipped.

Mitch punched him in the arm.  “So I get why she’d text Jason,” Mitch continued, looking at William.  “But why you?”

William shrugged.  “How would I know?  She was probably shaking and her hand slipped while typing.  Would you be calm in that situation?”

Jason had heard that before.

***

“You’re not scared?” William asked over the phone, sitting alone inside of his car, still in the parking lot after practice.  Everybody had left long ago, but not him.

“A little bit, but I’m not letting it take over my life.  I can’t let it take over my life,” Aberdeen replied, her voice calm.  She was probably talking to him from the employee washroom back on Bay Street.  “If I let the fear take over, I wouldn’t do anything.  I wouldn’t be able to do my job.”

“But this isn’t that type of fear.  This is someone stalked you on your way to work fear.  This is someone hit you with a glass because they hated your boyfriend fear.  This is—”

“—that was a freak accident—”

“—This is a different type of fear, minskatt.  I can’t stand seeing this happen to you.”

“Willy, I couldn’t stand to hear those guys in the bar chirping you, either,” she said.  “You have to trust me when I tell you that it freaked me out and scared me but there’s a peace order now and it’s been dealt with.  I’m not going to let it take over my life.  Remember what you told me?  I’m not what happened to me.”

William took a deep breath to stop himself from getting emotional.  His girlfriend was handling this much better than he was – that was very clear.  “I just love you so much,” he whispered.  Aberdeen could swear she heard his voice crack slightly.  “I don’t ever want to see anything bad happen to you.  It kills me because I can’t help you right then and there.  I can’t even touch you.  It’s hard.  We have to do this instead.  This is the hardest part of keeping this all a secret.”

“I know.  I know,” she agreed with him.  “But you have to trust me.  You trust me, right?”

“With my whole heart,” he responded.

“Then you need to trust that I’m okay.”

***

@reporterchris:  The member of the Leafs organization who was followed from their residence was a woman.  Shanahan, Dubas, & co. are taking this extremely seriously.  Rumours are the team is quite upset too.

@reporterchris: Organization is not naming names for obvious reasons.  But they do tell us the member is doing fine, was not hurt or injured, and continues to perform her full duties with the team.  Org is treating this as a one-off scary episode, but did not want to take chances.  

@reporterchris:  Team is a bit standoffish tonight, with good reason.  Though the culprit is not in the room, players coming out for media availability aren’t as forthcoming as usual.  

***

“Oh my god, there is literally no room to breathe in this thing,” Aberdeen said as she sucked in her stomach as Kasha zipped up her jumpsuit.  She looked at herself in the mirror and had to admit the jumpsuit looked phenomenal on her.  It was skin tight, hugging her body in all the right places and actually made it look like she had some semblance of cleavage, and showed off just the right amount of skin for a February night.  Her long hair cascaded down her back, her makeup was immaculate besides the patch near her scar where she couldn’t put any on, and her heels gave her that extra bit of confidence to pull off the look.  

“You’ll be able to get some alcohol in,” Kasha joked as she finished zipping.  “Or else bottle service was a bust.”

“Bottle service is never a bust,” Aberdeen said.  “I’m just gonna make sure the pre-drink is worth it too.”

Aberdeen had decided against telling Kasha tonight about the stalking earlier in the day.  It just wasn’t the right time, because she knew Kasha was incredibly excited for tonight, and because Aberdeen didn’t want to think about it either.  Much like the Ethan situation, she didn’t want it to creep up in her mind when she was supposed to be having a good time.  She’d tell Kasha tomorrow, when she was hungover.  She’d also tell her parents tomorrow, because if she told them tonight, they’d probably show up to the pre-drink and lock her in her room.

As their friends began arriving, the drinks started flowing.  People brought their own, and of course Kasha and Aberdeen had some booze in stock, and Kasha made sure to take pictures – “thirst trips, Aberdeen, thirst traps!!!!!” – before things started to get too hectic and too alcohol-fuelled.  Evan came, and Masani came, and Tom, and Christian and Gavin and Zach, and Delilah and Ariana and Sloane, and Jude surprised her by coming in from McMaster, and she was surrounded by so many friends and posing for so many group photos that her mind really didn’t think of what happened earlier, and she was happy, really happy, and wanted to have the best time.

They practically fell out of their Ubers and into the lineup outside Toybox, but Masani spoke with the bouncer and he let them all in and they made their way to their reserved table.  Kasha pulled her out onto the dance floor and Aberdeen began moving her body to the beat of the music.  She’d look over her shoulder every now and then, making sure nobody was him, but after the first few times, she came to the realization he wouldn’t be there, and she really let loose.  Kasha was telling everyone who would listen that it was Aberdeen’s birthday so they’d buy them drinks.  Aberdeen accepted them.  Most people asked about her scar.  She told them.  A few guys flirted with her.  She shot them down.  Many more stared at her in her jumpsuit, their eyes filling with lust.  

Then one pair caught her eye, because she could recognize those baby blues anywhere.  

He was across the dance floor, staying a safe distance away from her and her party, but he was still keeping a watchful eye.  Not possessive, not domineering, not jealous or envious or untrusting – just watching.  She wanted him around her; she wanted him behind her so she could grind on him; she wanted him in front of her so she could dance with him; she wanted him close to her so she could wrap her arms around him; but she couldn’t.  He was there and she was here, and that’s where they had to stay.  

Don’t even hav to drunkt text you tonigt when you’re alreadfy here she texted him, downing the last of her vodka soda.  She looked towards him to see him taking out his phone.  It was only then that she noticed Rasmus approaching him with a drink, Kappy too already sipping on his own.

just wanted to make sure everything was ok after what happened today

omg is that rasmus isn’t hew like 12 how didf the bouncer let him inm who did youi pay

u look so sexy

do you know this placve can we sneak away

don’t think that’s the best idea

why not

kasha kappy rasmus

Oh right.  Kasha.  They needed to keep this a secret from Kasha.  And Kappy.  And Rasmus.  Aberdeen’s drunk brain wasn’t thinking very straight right now.  Would Kasha notice if she snuck away for…however long?  Would Masani?  Would any one of her friends?  Were they already too drunk to notice, too drunk to care?

“Who are you texting?” Kasha asked.

“Nobody,” Aberdeen answered absent-mindedly.  She typed out her last text message before locking her phone.

i want your fingers inside of me

“Let’s go back to the booth,” Kasha whined as she grabbed Aberdeen’s hand.  “My feet huuuuurt.”

They made their way through the crowd and up the steps.  Aberdeen looked back to see William looking down at his phone, biting him bottom lip.  He locked his screen and put it in his pocket with an irritated look on his face.  She got him.

The rest of the night was fun.  William stayed away, which meant none of her friends interacted with him or Kappy or Rasmus – even Masani didn’t see him, which was good because if she did she most certainly would have bullied him into giving her Alex’s number since she’d been calling him “the best lay of my life thus far” since June.  She danced some more with her girlfriends, drank some more, got some more drinks bought for her, got asked about her scar some more, and took more pictures in the booth and on the dance floor.  The announcement for last call was the only reason they left, stumbling out of the club at 2am like good twenty-somethings having the time of their lives.  Aberdeen drunkenly hugged every one of her friends before they left in their taxis or Ubers, even placing a huge kiss on Jude’s cheek for coming in all the way from McMaster to join them.  She, Kasha, and Evan got into a taxi together, with Kasha even taking some last-minute pictures of her posing in the back of the taxi, even though Aberdeen thought she probably looked like a mess.  

When she got her phone back, she opened the front-facing camera and used her arms to push up her boobs, snapping a quick picture of her cleavage and herself biting her lip before quickly sending it off to Willy.  Kasha was too busy on her own phone to notice, and Evan was trying to make friends with the driver.  Almost immediately, she saw the three dots pop up.

the next time i see u alone, ur gonna pay for this

😇

 do you wankt sokme more

are u comfortable with that?

She posed again, doing much of the same, except this time she made it a video.  She pressed send.

fuuuuuuck ur so fucking sexy

im sry i do not have boobies

😂

u have beautiful boobs 

perfect for my mouth

Aberdeen smiled.  She held her breath.

i love yourf mouthj on my boobs i love your mouth onb my pussyt

i love my mouth on ur pussy too

where is rasmus is he in bed

FOCUS ABERDEEN

“ABERDEEEEEEEN!” Evan called out loudly, drunkenly.  It was only then that she realized that the taxi had stopped and that Evan and Kasha were already out of the taxi, waiting for her.  “Let’s goooo!”

Instead of just opened her door, she crawled across the backseat like a baby giraffe just finding its legs and got out that way.  She thanked the driver and told him it was her birthday before she closed the door.  Evan made sure they got into the elevator.

minskatt?

in elevator no shawarma this time when i gety backj into my room i willk send more pics

😍

do you like my butt

yes i do

i like my butt toop do you wankt pics of my butt

i want whatever u will give me

Evan also made sure they got into their apartment just fine.  Aberdeen immediately kicked off her heels and escaped to her room, closing the door.  The feel of her feet out of her strappy heels and on the laminate floor brought her so much joy.  She faced her full-length mirror and took one last picture, posing with her ass out before she sent the picture to William.

for you and only for you

fuck baby can’t believe how hot u look

let me take off my jumpsuit i have sexyt underwear onm

Aberdeen put her phone down and somehow, someway, got the zipper on her back down low enough that she could shimmy out of it.  The second the skin tight jumpsuit was off, she felt an even bigger sense of relief and comfort than she did when she took off her heels.  Every organ in her body felt like it was settling into their rightful place and not squeezed in by the jumpsuit.  It felt nice.  It felt so nice that she sat down on her bed.  And when she sat down on her bed, the comforter felt so soft against her skin.  Then she saw her pillows.  She fucking loved her pillows.  So she lay her head down on them.  Her eyes became heavy.  Her breath steadied.

that’s so hot baby do u wear them at work too Aberdeen? minskatt? hahahahahahaha goodnight minskatt

[halstudandruz]

Watch My Lips (NSFW)

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Antonio steps up to teach the reader a few things

Warnings: Smut (18+), swearing

A/N: I took a small page out of the Peter and Gabby book (I really miss Mills) anyway I don’t in any shape or form speak Spanish so blame google translate if anything is wrong, what they’re saying will be in English in parenthesis after just in case.

“Dawson, we need you.” Hailey yelled coming out from the back. Looking up from his desk he gave Jay a questioning look, “he only speaks Spanish.” Upton explained. Antonio nodded closing his file before locking his gun up and following her back. You contemplated between continuing to work or going to watch your partner question the suspect for a few seconds before giving into yourself. Against your better judgment you saved your file on your computer getting up to walk back as well. Kim catching your arm as you passed her desk amused smirk covering her face,

“What?” You asked.

“Where are you going?” She wondered.

“Just going to watch.” You shrugged making her smile grow wider,

“And is there any particular reason you’re going to stand back there and listen to people talk in a language you don’t understand?” She raised an eyebrow at you making your face blush a deep shade of red shifting on your feet,

“Shut up!” You begged looking around to make sure nobody was watching, making her laugh loudly.

“Hey I ain’t here to judge just here to enjoy the show.” She winked, turning back to her computer. Sighing loudly you shoved her in the arm taking the steps to head back to the room opposite of Antonio.

So, Kim may have been your best friend and might have known about your crush on Antonio. Of course taking any opportunity to tease you about them as if she wasn’t doing the same things with Ruzek. Antonio was hot any day of the week, but add on him speaking a different language, being able to watch the way it rolls off his tongue, and the confidence he has while doing it, had you sweating, heat rising in your body.

“Hey.” Jay spoke coming up behind you, making you jump a mile as he laughed out loud. “Looking a little flustered there [Y/L/N].” He smirked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Halstead.” You huffed.

“Yeah, okay. You keep telling yourself that. You might want to pull yourself together before Voight comes in though.” Jay winked, an accusing smile on his face.

————

You were a little zoned out heading back to the district later in the day. Antonio was talking your ear off, but your mind kept drifting. You were normally really good at keeping your thoughts and feelings at bay, but looking at him today for some reason caused a wetness to pool between your thighs. Could’ve been his new haircut, could’ve been the way his jeans fit him just right, or maybe the v-neck he was supporting that day because damn you weren’t sure how his arms even fit in it to be honest fighting the urge to reach out and squeeze them.

“Earth to [Y/N]?” Antonio cleared his throat making your eyes shoot up to meet his face immediately turning red.

“Yeah? Sorry what were you saying?” You swallowed, turning to look away from him.

“I’m just saying someone is going to have to learn Spanish before I retire.” Antonio pointed out.

“Yeah cause lord knows that’ll be sooner rather than later.” You teased, stealing a glance as his eyes focused on the road.

“Haha, very funny.” He shook his head hiding a chuckle, “I think you’re going to have to be the one to step up though,” he continued making you laugh,

“Yeah let’s pretend that would happen.” You rolled your eyes, but the smirk on his face never left making you suspect he wasn’t joking, “Antonio, no. I’m not taking a Spanish class.” You crossed your arms against your chest.

“You don’t have to, I'll teach you.” He shrugged, putting the car into park after reaching the district’s parking lot.

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to hire someone who speaks Spanish?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah. Probably. This will be more fun though. Come over to my place at 7. I’ll even make you dinner.” He smiled getting out of the car.

“Antonio! I don’t-“ You started to protest before he closed his door cutting you off and heading back into the district without you. Sighing you followed him knowing it was going to be a long night ahead of you.

——————

“This is so a date.” Kim giggled helping you with your makeup.

“It is not!” You retorted for the thousandth time.

“No? Then why are you so concerned about how you look?” She questioned.

“Maybe cause I never get to look nice and for once I’d like to take advantage of it.” You shrugged knowing deep down she could see through you.

“Sure. Okay. We’ll go with that.” She nodded an obvious smirk on her face. “You’ll tell me how he is thought, right?” She continued after a few minutes, making you groan, covering your face with your hands.

—————-

Walking up to Antonio’s door your heart was in your throat. This was nothing new, being at Antonio’s house. He was your partner and you were together regularly even outside the job, but knowing you were going to have to listen to him talk to you in Spanish all night while simultaneously keeping your composure already had your knees weak and your head doubting yourself.

Dinner was good. He had always been a good cook and you enjoyed watching him. You had talked mostly about work which wasn’t a surprise. Eva and Diego coming up frequently too as they were his pride and joy. Which you admired even more. You loved watching him with them even on the bad days the love you could see in his eyes was more than any words he could ever string together and that had you falling even deeper every time.

You were now seated on his couch nursing a glass of wine as he sipped a bottle of beer. Seated just close enough to him that your knee would slightly bump against his every so often.

“You know it’s really not that hard.” He teased.

“It’s your first language! I’d say the same thing about English.” You retorted.

“Do you know anything?” He chuckled, resting his arm against the back of the couch which caused his hand to land against your shoulder. Taking a deep breath you tried your best to ignore it before answering,

“Uh no not really. Just the real basic stuff we have to know. I didn’t even take it in high school. I took French.” You shrugged while taking a drink.

“Yeah? How’d that work out for you?” He asked, amused.

“I don’t remember any of that either anyway.” You chuckled. It started off simple naming things around his house. Following his lead.

An hour later your body was starting to heat up from the wine and listening to Antonio’s hidden accent come out even more prominently had a certain impact as well. So, whenever he started rolling his r’s you could hardly contain yourself wondering what it’d feel like against your own tongue.

“Come on try it again.” He laughed setting another empty beer bottle aside.

“Tonio, I can’t.” You whined setting your almost empty glass on the coffee table next to you.

“One more time. For me?” He smiled brightly at you as you huffed giving in. “Just start slow. Por favor (please).” He repeated and you could swear you heard a whine slip through your own mouth, breath starting to get heavier as you listened to his smooth words flawlessly falling out of his mouth. Taking a deep breath you tried again,

“Por favor.” But it ended as ungraceful and clunky as all the other times, making Antonio laugh loudly. “It’s not funny! I told you I couldn’t do this.” You frowned laying your hand on his knee.

“Alright just watch my lips.” He tapped his mouth, and he didn’t have to tell you twice. As if you hadn’t been already. Nodding you chewed at your bottom lip, inching just a little closer unintentionally. “Por fa-“ he started your lips cutting him off without a second thought. You didn’t remember leaning in, you didn’t remember your mind telling you to do it, but now your lips were tangled with his, hands fisted into his shirt. Antonio didn’t move, didn’t react to your lips on his. Which had you pulling back, your mind catching up to what you were doing.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry.” You begin to apologize, backing away from him, going to stand up in a rush, panic beginning to set in as you realized what you did. Before he grabbed your wrist pulling you back down to him, but this time closer.

“You sure?” He asked.

“Am I sure about being sorry? Yes, I di-“ But he cut in.

“I don’t believe you.” He smirked one hand landing on your waist, the other on your neck. You gulped not saying anything making him smile and lean into you this time. You gladly welcomed the feeling of his lips on yours again this time relaxing into it. Noticing how he smelled even better this close, how soft his lips were, and how smooth his hair felt as you threaded your fingers through it pulling him impossibly close. He picked you up, sliding you into his lap effortlessly. Pulling back to get a breath before moving to your neck.

“Antonio. Are y-oh,” you moaned feeling him nip behind your ear trying to compose yourself as you continued, hands grasping at sleeves of his shirt, “are you sure about this?” You eventually got out between a few deep breaths and whines. Antonio kissed your shoulder gently before leaning back to look at you, hands resting on your hips.

“Completely. Are you?” He answered.

“If you think you can keep up, old man.” You teased. Laughing he pulled you back to him, tongue immediately sneaking into your mouth, beer taste still existent, but you couldn’t have cared less, hands slipping under his shirt to feel his stomach and you were pleasantly surprised at the hardness. Curious now to see what was underneath up close you tugged at his shirt breaking to pull it over his head when he lifted his arms. Throwing it to the side, hands returning to his abdomen to admire his broad shoulders and perfect chest. “Oh hell yes.” You gaped causing him to chuckle below you.

“What are you thinking?” He asked as you traced your fingers over his scars, leaning down to answer,

“Lots of bad, bad things.” You replied nipping at his ear lobe which earned you a growl from grinding against him at the same time. He moved to pull your tank top off leaning down to leave gentle kisses across the neckline of your bra once it was tossed to the floor. Slowly unclipping it behind you and letting it fall between the two of you. Watching his eyes roam over your body had you immediately self conscious which he sensed.

“Hermosa.” He whispered, hands moving up your body.

“What’s that mean?” You asked.

“Beautiful.” He smiled, taking your breasts into his hands, moving his thumbs over your nipples as you sighed loudly. Closing your eyes tight when his mouth attached to one. Trying to keep from making too many sounds so early on you bit your lip feeling his fingertips digging into your hips encouraging you to move against him again. Gladly you moved your hips teasingly slow against the stiff cock pushing evidently against his jeans earning you a hard bite on your chest that without a doubt would leave a mark. “You want to tease now?” He looked up at you, cockiness in his voice, lips swollen from yours. Lip still trapped between your teeth you nodding looking down at him to see the lust in his eyes grow by the second. “You know I’m not stupid, right?” He chuckled moving to unbutton your jeans, “I could feel your eyes on me all day baby. Even in the two-way glass. I couldn’t see you, but I knew you were watching me.” He leaned up to kiss you reaching his hands under your thighs to pick you up and move you to his bed. Laying you down gently when he reached the edge, “Admit it, [Y/N]. Tell me I’m not wrong.” He pushed one hand holding himself up as the other cupped your face looking down at you.

“You’re not wrong.” You admitted flattening your palms against his chest and slowly moving them down. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you no matter how hard I tried.” You swallowed hard one hand moving to cup him and push against his jeans making him gasp eyes closing tight for a second as he pushed against your hand.

“I wanted to take you in that car today. So bad. Feeling your eyes all over me. Trying to be inconspicuous. I’ve wanted to do this for so long, [Y/N].” He confessed rubbing a thumb against your cheek staring hard at you.

“Me too.” You agreed smiling up at him.

“That’s all I needed.” He smiled back giving you a quick kiss before leaning up to slide your jeans and panties down your legs, humming in satisfaction when he leaned up to look over you, “you’re even more gorgeous than I imagined every night.” He winked, kneeling down landing on his knees before pulling you closer to the edge of the bed moving your legs so they rested on his shoulders. He kissed from your ankle to the top of your thigh before stopping and moving to the other leg leaving sloppy kisses and bite marks along the way of each. No doubt purposely avoiding where you needed him most. You could feel yourself growing wetter every second at the anticipation, starting to drip onto your thighs absolutely in awe at the sight of a shirtless Antonio in between your legs.

“Antonio...come on, please.” You whined wiggling closer to his face and feeling the huff of his laugh hit your core causing you to buck your hips unintentionally.

“That’s not what I taught you.” He teased leaving tiny kisses closer and closer to your center.

“Baby..” You huffed running your fingers against his hair.

“Just like I taught you, princesa (princess) and I’ll make you feel so good. I promise.” He bargained moving his hands to hold your hips down.

“Antonio...” you cried before seeing he wasn’t gonna give in sighing you tried, “Por favor.” coming out better than before but still not perfect.

“Good girl. I don’t think you’ve ever been sexier.” He winked before moving his mouth to connect with your core, a moan immediately escaping you as your head fell back. If you thought he was good with his tongue before you had absolutely no idea. It took mere minutes for you to be a moaning mess shoving his face deeper into you and thank god he had your hips pinned down or the man wouldn’t have been able to breathe.

“Yes baby that feels fucking incredible.” You croaked. Your head was swimming as his tongue covered every inch of your pussy in the most amazing way possible. Summoning all of your strength to push him away seconds before you came. You watched as he backed away using his shoulder to wipe his mouth off leaving it glistening as he came back to his feet. Leaning down again to kiss you,

“Sorry I was too close.” You apologized once you broke apart.

“That was the goal.” He joked kissing your cheek and standing back up to undo his belt stepping out of his jeans and boxers and kicking them to the side. Whistling you moved up the bed some pulling him back down on top of you catching him by surprise.

“Ugh. Careful love.” He laughed adjusting himself.

“What? Am I gonna hurt you or something?” You teased moving your hand down to wrap around his shaft. Pleasantly surprised to find how thick it was in your hand.

“Yeah you wish.” He groaned when you started moving your hand. “Fuck.” He cursed.

“What?” You asked.

“I don’t have condoms.” He sighed, closing his eyes as you started to speed up your hand.

“What? You didn’t plan for this?” You joked.

“Maybe in my dreams.” He smirked thrusting into your palm.

“I’m on birth control. So as long as you're clean...” You trailed off letting go of him to lick the precum that had leaked out onto your hand.

“Of course I am.” He looked down at you in disbelief.

“Hey, shit happens.” You shrugged.

“You think the hottest detective in the city wouldn’t be a little careful about who they jump into bed with?” He joked.

“Well you know Halstead isn’t always the brightest.” You shot back.

“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes. You shrugged, grabbing ahold of him again and guiding him to your entrance wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer., shivering at the feel of his cock rubbing against your clit for the first time. Using the tip of his cock to your advantage you moved it through the lips of your pussy adoring the way his dick slid perfectly between them, mouth parted soft sighs escaping every time the head brushed against your clit. Enjoying every second before you had enough of your own teasing moving your hips up to let him slide in, “Tell me one more time.” He looked down at you nervously.

“I want you, Antonio.” You reassured him. Sighing in relief his palms landed on each side of your face before he started to push himself in. Breathing through the slight sting your nails dug into his back pulling him closer. Enjoying the pain more than you ever had in your life. Each inch clenching him even deeper. He wanted nothing more than to thrust into you as hard as he could but he talked himself through his impulses stopping every few seconds for you to adjust until he finally bottomed out. Breaths heaving in your ear. He started slow obviously trying to keep his control, only pulling out slightly before pushing in. Just worried about loosening you up first or he was going to lose it before it even started, but as you started to feel the pleasure taking over it started to get agonizing, never having felt so full in your life, just wanting to feel him pound into you already. You had never been so happy to be on birth control giving you the ability to feel every throb, every twitch, every inch of his dick inside of you and that thought had you moaning out loud.

“Oh my god, baby.” He groaned against your neck at the sound and feeling of you.

“Come on handsome. I’m ready. Give it to me.” You encouraged holding his face in your hands. He moaned louder at your words, closing his eyes to avoid looking at you as he started to move faster and with each thrust the more you both lost yourselves in each other. In no time Antonio rested one of your legs on his shoulder giving him even deeper access than you ever thought possible, filling you to the absolute brim. His groans and sounds from his thighs hitting yours filled the room with each thrust making it even hotter. Shuddering his hips forward caused you to scream, hitting your sweet spot dead on. With his free hand he captured your wrists holding them tight above your head. You couldn’t believe the pleasure that was coursing through you was even possible before he leaned down capturing a nipple in his mouth and you swore you blacked out for a second screaming Antonio’s name. “Nobody has ever fucked me like this baby. You’re mouth, your tongue, your cock my god. You love making me scream from it all don’t you?” You got out between a series of moans. Antonio couldn’t answer you fully only able to get out a loud,

“Fuck, [Y/N].” You could tell he was close. From his sloppy thrusts and his moans to his cock starting to throb in you. You were close too right on the edge ready to fall any second. Moving your eyes up from where you two were connected up his body that was glistening from sweat rolling down from his chest, to his face where his mouth hung open groans and curse words flowing from it without shame and when you met his own eyes completely full of lust staring down at you that was the end. Stars clouding your vision as your eyes closed tightly, mouth falling open in a silent scream, hips bucking up, and thighs tightening around different spots of Antonio. You came back just in time to feel Antonio’s cock twitch, his body stiffening, nails digging into your wrists, and head falling into your shoulder muffling a moan that would’ve been sure to wake up the whole neighborhood as he spilled himself into you completely. Eventually the room was silent besides your heavy breaths. Antonio eventually pulling out slowly and rolling off you. No words were spoken or movements made for a few minutes until you decided to break the silence.

“Every night huh?” You smirked turning on your side towards him making him chuckle.

“Maybe not every night.” He smiled pulling you to his chest.

“But close to?” You continued.

“Damn near.” He kissed the top of your head.

“I might have to send you some material then.” You looked up at him wiggling your eyebrows.

“Cannot say I’d be opposed to that.” He kissed you gently before standing up and walking into his bathroom carrying a cloth and water with him when he returned handing you the glass and nudging your legs apart to clean you.

“Well aren’t you a gentleman.” You took a drink before setting it on the night stand.

“I made the mess might as well clean it up I guess.” He shrugged kissing the inside of your knee as he did, before laying back down beside you gladly letting you cuddle back into him.

“You know that was like really incredible right?” You laughed looking up at him.

“Yeah? Not so bad for an old man huh?” He smirked.

“Yeah...young enough for round 2 yet?” You joked kissing at his chest squeezing his biceps.

“Only one way to find out I guess.” He lifted you back into his lap pulling you towards his lips. Later that night you would be sure to send Kim plenty of thumbs-up emojis (and maybe a few eggplants.)

[chickpeatalia]

I heard "working class!Arthur" and I can't think of anything else yes please!!!

Anon, I know you didnt exactly ask for it, but now that you have put the words “working class!Arhur” into my ask box, you have practically opened pandoras box so I’m just gonna go ahead and talk about it anyway. *mwua*  First things first, I shall note that I am not in fact British, so I might not get a few things right. Second, what we’re gonna talk about today is a rather specific human AU that lives in my head.  Third, this ended up being....incredibly long, I’m sorry. The rest is under the cut!

So, why is working class Arthur splendid?

Obviously, there are many different version of how to do a human AU, and oftentimes fandom likes to go down the rich/royal/elite!Arthur route. Which, in fact, is super valid and oftentimes quite fun too. I like these versions too. However, I think oftentimes a working class background is favourable because 1) it makes more sense, to me, on a meta level  and 2) it has a certain charm to it.

Lets consider the meta level first: - despite stereotypes, Great Britain does not consist of aristocracy and royals alone. What are 600 arstocratic families to 60 million of the rest of the population? - the Industrial Revolution started in Great Britain - factory work, steel mills, textile and most prominently, coal mines in the North of England were all operated by the workers. I feel like in Britain, social classes matter way more than on continental Europe, and also to me personally the working class seemed like a particularly important one, historically speaking. Okay, enough history for now, so lets get into the human AU: - Arthur, who grows up in a large family with four brothers (Alasdair & Dylan who are older. And Sean & Peter who are younger) - his parents had Alasdair very early on and you know how it is. With a baby on the way, you got to make the best out of it and take the first stable job you get. (Which was in Glasgow at the time). - but unforntunately high unemployment rates hit the country, especially the working class (thanks Maggie T</3) and what to do if you lose your job and no new work is to be found? Well, you just go and look somewhere else. In the Kirklands’ case, that somewhere else is Cardiff, Wales where Dylan is born. - So they end up sort of moving quite a lot, practically in every part of the UK, in hopes of finding stable jobs for a bit. - Eventually they settle in a suburb of Manchester, England at long last.

- And life goes on

- They recycle so much clothes between the brothers. A good 40% if not more of Arthur’s clothes used to be either Alasdair’s or Dylan’s. - In turn, Sean and Peter also get Arthur’s old school uniforms. Theyre not particularly nice after all these years, but look, they have five kids. They simply don’t have the money for new ones. ( “Says much about the efficiency of a system when it forces you to wear school uniforms in order to avoid social stigmatisation and yet makes you buy the uniforms yourself, as if richer people couldn’t afford the better ones anyway.” Arthur would say darkly) - lots and lots of second hand shopping. (this is where Arthur got is first leather jacket and Doc Martens from, and yes, this is also when his punk phase has started) - thus his outfits tend to look quite ...interesting. A various mix of old jumpers from the 90s, Dylan’s old plaid shirts and some band t-shirt he got for £5. - one year, he and his brothers were looking for a gift for their mum’s birthday. Arthur didn’t have any cash anymore (yes, it was after he bought the Doc Martens, sacrifies had to be made), so he suggested he tried to bake her a cake. Much cheeper than any other gift. Obviously his brothers mocked him for it (until they actually tried the cake and found out that it actually tasted quite good). Since then Arthur took up baking here and there, and his brothers while not encouraging, do not mock him anymore. They do hope he makes the lemon cake again for Ma’s next birthday though

- SCHOOL ho boy... so the thing is, Arthur is rather clever.

- Academically, he was above average. Acing it in subjects like English and History, being quite good in French (no, he does not bring this fact up often...or...at all), and getting decently by in the rest. Except that one time in PE when he got rowdy with the other boys during a football match (no, not our boy’s brightest moment). - He is intelligent, he even understands subject that he doesn’t particular like, like chemistry. He is quick-witted and sharp tongued and has a natural talent for words and writing. Even rather sophisticated articles and topics do not resent a challenge for him. - Naturally, Arthur toys with the thought of going to university and immediately wants to slap himself for that ridiculous idea. - The thing is, nobody in his family has gone to university so far. Like, he has no, absolute no frame of reference what it entails. - Being from a working class family and then going to university is a scary thing, man. - also, being £30,000 in dept by age 18 is a terror of its own kind - Eventually, he contemplates applying maybe perhaps for the local university and that information seeps through to Alasdair who found it to be a rather ridiculous endeavour. - “Look, you’re shitting your pants about this application one way or another, so why not just go immediately for the top universities instead. If you get rejected, well, at least you got rejected by one of the top universities in the world. But if you get accepted....” “Aw, are you saying you think I could get accepted by one of the best universities in the world?” “I’m not saying anything, you wee little shit. Don’t put words in my mouth. But......being the overachieving know-it-all that you are, you might have a chance.” - For as long as he lives, Arthur’s never gonna admit it but this conversation might have really been the most meaningful thing Alasdair has ever said to him. - And yes, he does apply and yes he does get accepted.

FURTHER HEADCANONS:

- he toned it down by now but the punk never died in him. lots of LGBT+ pins on his jackets too. - that being said, he hates it when people think punk is an aesthetic rather than a political stance (”You cannot be bloody punk and right wing. You just cannot!”) - genuinely likes the taste of beer. Or it might be that it was the cheepest alcoholic beverage he could manage to buy. Situation unclear. - is so prone to get into bar fights oh dear lord when he says “fight me”, he genuinely is 100% down to throw hands even if you beat him bloody - obviously, always votes Labour - will call you a cunt if you’re a Tory - unrelated to anything, but I think he’d wear earrings regularly and they’d be cute - also, has a tendency to dye his hair in crazy colours when he is under pressure - one last thing: oftentimes, Arthur strikes people as incredibly cynic or gloomy or ‘overly engaged in politics’, but growing up the way he grew up, facing so many hardships through the years of which many were directly caused by careless conservative politics...its just hard not to be cynic. My final words here are: this is most definitely not what you were looking for when you sent that ask, anon, but I seriously needed to get this out of my system. If anyone wants to ever talk about my favourite boy Arthur, my ask box is always open.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk<3

[mitsususu]

I give my hand to you with all my heart. I can’t wait to live my life with you, I can’t wait to start. Steve and Bucky are getting married! Below are my Top 5 Favorite stories:

“We didn’t need this to love each other, but I’m glad we get to do it anyway” (T, 1k) by AidaRonan

In an alternate universe where they never go to war, Steve and Bucky live a whole lifetime together.

They're near the end of the line now, but there's still time to make it official.

Or the one where same-sex marriage finally gets legalized in NY and two very old men do the thing.

+ Modern AU. They got to grow old together! Courthouse weddings and heartfelt vows.

-☆-

“My Big Fat Wolf Wedding” (T, 12k) by AggressiveWhenStartled, galwednesday, quietnight, silentwalrus, skellerbvvt

“MARRIED?”

“Basically married. Permanently engaged anyway. Weres have their own deal.” Natasha sounds much, much too gleeful about Steve’s rapidly expanding personal hell. “So you better wake your blushing bride and tell him the happy news: that it was an accident and you had no idea what you were doing.”

“I,” Steve says, strangled. “I can’t do that!”

“You can’t?”

“He thought I was proposing! And he accepted!”

“Wow, maybe he’s just as dumb as you are,” Natasha says thoughtfully.

“I can’t just promise him a ring, take him home, drink from him three times in a row and then wake him up the next morning to say oops, just kidding!” Steve casts around, looking at his wreck of an apartment. “I don’t even have any good champagne!”

+ Modern AU. Vampire Steve and Werewolf Bucky. Mistaken identity, accidental proposals, wedding planning, family gossip, and idiots in love. This was published a few days ago and if you haven’t read it yet, you MUST

-☆-

“just goddamn marry me already, for fuck's sake” (E, 6k) by newsbypostcard

"Do you," Steve says, fingers newly tugging Bucky's underwear until it starts to slide off his hips, "want to marry me, or not?"

Bucky sighs. "You know, in some circles people would consider this interrogation under duress."

+ Post CW. They’re practically married already, but Steve wants to make it an official forever. Lovely wedding vows in Central Park

-☆-

“All the things yet to come are the things that have passed” (T, 9k) by sangha

Peter gets underestimated. Everyone calls him “kid,” as if he’s not part of the Avengers. Well anyway, contrary to what the others may think, he does notice things. Being in high school is good for something. Noticing when people have crushes, for one.

Nobody else seems to notice the way Captain America looks at the Winter Soldier. Peter is still not sure how to act around Cap. He’s a little intimidating, not a very approachable guy. He always looks very severe and serious and to be honest, Peter’s arms still hurt when he thinks about the fight at the airport. But when Steve’s looking at the Winter Soldier, he looks a lot more approachable. Softer, somehow. Peter likes him better that way. Not that he’d ever dare say that to Captain America’s face. He’s not in any hurry to die again. Anyway, the point is, Cap clearly has it bad for his best friend.

+ Post CW. Very cute. Peter and Bucky friendship, proposals, and a simple wedding.

-☆-

“Brookland House” (E, 8k) by Ark

“You seem distressed, my angel. Are you not pleased with the match? The word from court is that Lord James Barnes is an upstanding gentleman, not given to the wild circles around the Prince Regent. And Steve, it was he who asked for you. The young man has kept you in mind all these years -- despite our circumstances.”

+ Historical AU. Arranged marriage, childhood friends, and a long awaited wedding night

-☆-

-☆- And a freebie! -☆-

“les voleurs de mariage” (G, 988 words) by silentwalrus

Anon asked:

Sorry if this is too much. I've been obsessed with better than to bend since I read it. I can't help but imagine if Steve was found earlier, Bucky was rescued and Steve married both of them like he wanted and lived their lives. Do you have any headcanons on this version? Details!! I want them to be h a p p y and it's too much to ask for in canon. And! In ITHLYN does the team ever find out Steve's relationships with both? I'd LOVE to see you write out their reactions. Only if you want to. Thanks!

+ Post WW2. Bucky gets rescued and marries Steve in France. Crackfic, Outside POV. Tagged for Steve/Bucky/Peggy but there’s no Peggy romance actually in the story

-☆-

+ Previously rec’d Wedding stories (x18) here

[poopunderstander]

i am probably the 5000th person to write Dean teaching Cas to drive but i did it anyway and i'm here to make it your problem

"Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous."

2.4k words, destiel, PG/teen&up, no warnings except for a lot of geology talk at the start

link on ao3

Approximately 550 million years before what Castiel currently knows as the present day, two enormous sheets of earth collided in a dying ocean. The continent of Laurentia met with an arc of volcanic islands, and, finding itself unequal to their fury, folded downward beneath the sapping crust of the Iapetus Ocean. Over millennia, as Heaven watched, the earth and water consumed each other, leaving a thick scar of mountains, to be worn away in turn by new millennia of wind and ice and fire.

That was the Age of Fishes. Later, much later, humans climbed into the valleys in between the hills, to fish and hunt and build, and when they buried their dead they painted the graves with red earth, infinitesimal new scars over the old tectonic suture.

Castiel remembers all this—can feel it in the ground under his vessel’s feet, here in what Dean Winchester calls central Maine. They’re standing on glacial till deposited in the last ice age, and below them are the grains of sand from the Iapetus Ocean that became mudstone and siltstone, then pelite and shale and Silurodevonian granite. Twenty-five miles beneath Castiel lies a layer of Precambrian gneiss, a sheet of ancient dust pressed into solid stone nearly four billion years ago, when the ocean was wide and God himself wasn’t that old. That stone, Castiel knows, is Earth’s oldest shield: the last solid barrier between humanity and the planet’s molten core. He thinks about this as he watches Dean load guns into the trunk of his car, his boots planted in soft red earth carried here 10,000 years ago by a river of ice.

“Ready?” Dean says, turning back to face Cas.

Castiel thinks about the God who watched the continents form, who watched the planet eat itself a thousand times and heal a thousand more, the God who Castiel knows once wasn’t dead. He looks at Dean, who knows none of this and came with him anyway to trap an archangel on earth, and thinks: How could I be?

“Yes,” he says.

<>

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

They’re sitting in the empty parking lot of an ice cream shop, across the road from St. Peter’s Hospital. Dean drove them here after they left the house of prostitution, to wait for the sun to rise and the meeting with Raphael to “go down.” Castiel, still caught up in the pangs of regret and panic he brought away from the bar, has spent his last hours on earth contemplating the profound and mundane limits of his earthly knowledge.

“I thought she would appreciate the information,” he told Dean, trying to create in words a world in which he didn’t ruin Dean’s terrifying act of kindness, and Dean laughed and said, “Oh, dude, big mistake.”

“I don’t think I understand women,” Castiel said then, and Dean threw back his head and laughed, and Castiel felt a portion of the darkness inside him evaporate.

Dean started quizzing him after that, asking about things he’s done, talking about something he calls a “bucket list.” Castiel doesn’t know what the bucket is for, but Dean’s apparently contains people and places and food: a musician named Springsteen in Concert, the Chevrolet Hall of Fame in Decatur, the 1,800 pound burger at Mallie’s Sports. He asks Castiel if he’s ever been to the Grand Canyon, and Castiel tells him he witnessed its creation. Dean says okay, but did you ever hike it, and Castiel has to shake his head.

It’s in this way that Dean learns that Castiel has never driven a car—a fact which Cas thinks shouldn’t surprise him, but it does. They’re sitting on the hood of the car together, gazing out across Highwood Avenue at the glowing windows of the hospital, and Dean twists his whole body around to face Cas, telegraphing his shock.

“Why would I,” Cas points out. “I’ve never had the need.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “but—dude, what if somebody, like, zaps your wings? What’re you gonna do, huh, take a bus?”

Cas shrugs. “Probably. I think it’s far more likely that Raphael will kill me outright.”

He sees a flicker of pain cross Dean’s face; this conversation made him uncomfortable before. Castiel wonders about that. “I’m not talking about that,” he says. “I just meant—hypothetically. In a hypothetical world where you get your angel mojo un-mojoed, or whatever, you’d just—buy a bus ticket?”

Castiel isn’t sure what he’s admitting to, here. He thought bus travel was common. “I suppose.”

“Jesus,” Dean says, turning back to face the hospital. “That’s just wrong.”

They’re silent for a moment, spinning in their own private worlds. The lights are off inside the ice cream shop—it’s nearly dawn, and nobody buys ice cream at dawn—but the lamps above the Dairy Queen sign are blazing, and Castiel is watching the yellow light flow over Dean’s head and shoulders as he leans back on the hood of his car, still warm from the engine’s labor. Even now, looking at Dean’s body is like looking at a miracle. Castiel wonders if he’s aware that he’s the only thing in Waterville, Maine born entirely of God’s will.

“Listen,” Dean says suddenly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know what it’s gonna be like in there. I know you said—well, I know what you said. But I think,” he says, puffing up with that bizarre confidence he always seems to pull from nowhere, “I think we’re gonna make it. And if I’m right, if we do—” He turns to look at Cas again, a grin dawning across his face. “If we do, I’m gonna teach an angel of the lord to drive stick.”

Castiel has no idea why—he’s not quite sure what those words in that order mean—but this thought seems to give Dean hope. Castiel doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t have a human soul, that thing that seems to trap hope so unfailingly it feels like a flaw in the design.

The sun is feet from the eastern horizon.

“Okay,” he tells Dean.

<>

Twenty-five miles north of Waterville is a town called Canaan. When colonists first settled on the banks of the Kennebec, they used the native word for the place they built: Wesserunsett. Not long after, though, deciding that that long name was not worth the labor of speaking or writing it, they looked at the bright green fields laid all around their stolen home, imagined a similarly verdant place of rest waiting for them at life’s end, and named the new town after the Promised Land.

Canaan, of course, looks nothing like Heaven, really. Heaven is vast and multidimensional; Canaan is a ten-room motel, two grocery stores, and two churches along the length of US Highway 2. But outside Canaan, between the highway and the lake, is a wide field of grass and purple violets, which Dean pronounces “perfect.” He pulls off the road into the field, and Castiel feels the solid, assuring weight of asphalt give way to the uncertainty of earth.

“Okay,” Dean says. He gets out of the car, and motions for Castiel to do the same. Cas does, turning cautiously to scan the field around them.

“There’s no road here,” he points out. He’s never tried it before, but he always assumed that a road was essential to driving.

“That’s the point,” Dean says. “You can’t start on the road, you’re gonna get yourself killed. Gotta start where there’s nothing to run into.” He gestures at the expanse around them. “Like so. That’s how my dad taught me.”

Dean doesn’t talk about his father. Castiel has noticed. He’s never seen John Winchester; tries to imagine Dean as a child, standing in a field like this with the man who withstood one hundred years of Hell. He can’t picture it. But then, imagination has never come easily to him.

“Come on,” Dean says, waving a hand for Cas to come around the car. Castiel obeys, walking around to the open driver’s seat as Dean circles to where Cas just was. They both sit down inside, pulling the doors shut, and Dean says, “Okay. So. Let’s start at the beginning.”

He talks Cas through the controls of the car, laying his hand on the dashboard as he talks, identifying the levers and pedals and dials with gentle, nearly reverent touches, watching Castiel’s face to make sure that he’s taking it all in. Castiel tries to concentrate, thinks he understands what he’s being told, but he has no place to anchor this information. That’s the clutch, Dean says, and Castiel nods and thinks, clutch, and thinks about gripping Dean tight. The clutch.

“You got it?” Dean asks. Castiel doesn’t feel he has anything.

“Of course.”

Dean beams. Cas can’t find it in himself to regret the lie.

“Go ahead and put your hands on the wheel,” Dean says. This turns out to be more complicated than Castiel anticipated. He does it wrong, apparently, the first time, because Dean frowns and says, “No, you gotta—ten o’clock and two o’clock, Cas,” and when Cas asks what that means Dean says to picture a clock, and Castiel doesn’t see what relevance that has to driving a car. In the end, Dean takes Castiel’s hands in both of his, and puts them onto the steering wheel in the right position. He sits back in satisfaction, nodding.

“Okay. Okay.” Castiel’s heart is pounding like a hummingbird’s. It’s not the same fear he felt last night. He doesn’t know what it is. Dean tells him where to put his feet, says okay, clutch first, keep it in neutral, and Cas pushes down with what was once Jimmy Novak’s left foot and then his right, feels the engine rumble to life, and lets go when Dean says okay, now.

He breaks the car. Or, that’s what it feels like at first: a heavy, surely cataclysmic crash of machinery that throws both of them back against the seat. He sees Dean grimace and gets ready to apologize, but Dean just says, “Okay, kind of rough start, but that’s fine—try it again.”

“I’m not sure I should,” Cas says. It sounded like the engine cracked. He thinks Dean may have underestimated his ignorance here. But Dean says no, try again, so Cas puts his feet back on the pedals and focuses every particle of his celestial consciousness on easing the pressure on and off in perfect unison the way Dean tells him, hands rigid at ten and two on the clock-wheel, and the four thousand pounds of steel beneath them roll approximately ten inches over the grass before Castiel’s focus falters, and the engine grinds to another explosive, neck-wrenching halt.

“You suck at this,” Dean says. His patience as an instructor, apparently, has been exhausted.

“Of course I suck at this,” Cas says, hearing the panic in his own voice. “I’m an angel.”

He expects the lesson to be over then—clearly, he isn’t going to learn this—but Dean just chuckles instead, caught up in another burst of unearned optimism, and says, “Try it again, little slower this time.”

For half an hour, Cas jolts the car in short, violent circles around the field, struggling to follow Dean’s directions and feeling sweat build up on his palms and the back of his shirt. The longest he’s able to drive in one smooth line lasts about one minute and forty-five seconds, long enough for Dean to lose his look of consternation and break out in a grin, raising his hands in celebration just as Cas accidentally pushes down on the wrong pedal and sends them screeching to a halt.

“Hey,” Dean says, once he’s recovered from the physical shock, “at least you’re getting better.”

“I’m not,” Cas tells him. He can feel an odd, nauseous constriction at the back of his throat; he wonders if it’s possible for a being that doesn’t eat or digest to vomit. “I’m not good at this, Dean. I won’t be good at this.”

“Listen,” Dean says, “if Sam could learn, so can you.”

“Sam’s very intelligent.”

“And you’re not?”

“Sam’s human.”

“Since when does that matter?” Dean asks.

Cas stares at him. Of course it matters. It’s always mattered. “I don’t know how,” he says. His hands are shaking.

“Hey,” Dean says, “hey.” He reaches over and lays his hand over Castiel’s, still on the steering wheel. His skin is warm and callused. Castiel feels the blood vessels in his cheeks and neck dilating.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Dean. He knows, without quite understanding, that what they’re doing is important to Dean, somehow, and he’s fucked it up. He did the same last night, with the woman whose name wasn’t Chastity, whose father loved her in the same unknowable way that Dean’s father loved him. He didn’t want to do it again. Cas, who is living after death in the body of a man so devout he offered his whole self to the possession of God’s soldier, knows that the machine he’s sitting in is a part of the strange, ardent little faith Dean practices, a religion with three apostles, a virgin, and no god. Sitting here with Dean’s hand on his own, sweating and shaking at the helm of this unholy ark, he feels blasphemous.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You can do this, Cas,” Dean says. “Look, I get you’re, like, superpowered, or whatever, I know you don’t need to. But did you ever think—maybe it’s just been a really long time since you learned something new?” He pauses, frowning, searching for the right words. “I don’t care if you can’t drive, man,” he says finally. “But I know you can learn. Right? I believe in you, Cas.”

Twelve hours ago, Dean stood side by side with Cas in the light of Raphael’s wings and heard him say that God died centuries ago. Dean heard it, and told Cas to go looking anyway.

Cas looks at him, at the freckles scattered over his nose, the serious little pinch between his brows, the soft ghost of a smile on his face even though Cas has surely damaged his car by now, even though God is dead and his neck must hurt and Sam’s taking a vacation from being Dean’s brother, the other half of his world. Dean looks back at him, raises his eyebrows, and grins.

“One more time?”

[maryellencarter]

anyway so I've been rewatching sg-1 again, picking up where i left off a few years back. neither of us had a hammond voice ready to hand for that stargate fusion we've been posting, so i rewatched "message in a bottle" (figuring that since it was a bottle show it would have a good modicum of hammond, which it did), and then i was like "i forgot how much i love this show" and started going again. so i have some brief notes / thoughts.

* serpent's song: s2 ep18, the one where apophis dies (mostly). the big plotty goa'uld-y episodes usually bore me, but this one was pretty well done. the apophis actor is really good. (i cannot seem to remember his name, because it's something like peter williams and my brain autofills peter wingfield, whom he is definitely not.)

* one false step: that one with the naked androgynous humanoids in white body paint, with the infrasound stuff and the yodeling. this was one of the very early ones i saw by chance, so i don't actually have much of an opinion on it, other than that sure was an episode of sg-1 that exists.

* show and tell: the one with the reetou, the invisible insectoid race. there are a lot of episodes where some kid bonds with jack, because rda is one of those rare actors who are absolutely delighted to be handed a scene with a kid or a dog in it. these eps usually live or die by the quality of the child actor. this one was no great shakes.

* 1969: a classic episode for a reason and a motherfucking delight. launched a thousand time-travel stories. the actor who plays baby hammond, except for his eyes being brown and him being a little taller i would still swear they actually went back in time and got a young don s davis to play himself. also teal'c in disguise and just everything. except possibly daniel's german accent. i'm not sure if it was specifically regional (my own german accent is heavily austrian, my portugese accent is from sao paulo, it's a thing) or just very bad. but everything else.

* out of mind: sg-1 was commissioned for four seasons at once, so they had the luxury of doing those cliffhanger season endings without getting cancelled on them. this one is mostly a clip show. and it brings back hathor, whom nobody really missed. good cliffhanger though.

* into the fire: s3 opener. much badass, very wow. jack gets goa'ulded, hammond gets to be teal'c's gunner, everything is epic.

* seth: in which sg-1 infiltrates a cult led by stargate's version of set. lots of uncomfortable (for me) thematic stuff about You Should Reconnect With Family. didn't enjoy it.

* fair game: the one where those three goa'uld system lords come to earth for treaty talks with the asgard, and there was that one promo photo that definitely looked like a pitch for a wacky sitcom.

* legacy: fucking ma'chello. even dead, he can't stop causing trouble. this is the one where daniel is Temporarily Schizophrenic Because Of Reasons and we have the evergreen trope of the Psychiatrist You Want To Punch. :P

* learning curve: another one where jack makes friends with an alien kid. felt like it ran way too long and nobody actually asked questions to understand the situation, but the heartwarming ending did stick the landing.

* point of view: the quantum mirror one where we establish that you can't have two of the same person alive in the same parallel reality or the secondary one will start to die of extremely '90s cgi. also one of the ones that really started to push the sam/jack. (i have complicated feelings about sam/jack. some other time.)

* dead man switch: the one where an annoying alien bounty hunter captures sg-1 and tries to make them do things. notable mainly for establishing the phrase "pain in the mik'ta". (Jack: "Neck?" Teal'c: "No.")

* demons: really fucking obnoxious episode that tried to have villagers whose culture came from medieval england believe the sg-1 team were demons. like, i can understand having an axe to grind against christianity, but this was just fucking stage christianity tropes, the fat corrupt churchman with the ring and the skinny good friar in a ratty robe, and a lot of blithering about demons and not even getting the damn St Michael prayer remotely right. Also the writer seemed to think trepanning would always kill the subject, and had *Daniel* of all fucking people be the mouthpiece for that one, when Daniel should know better than anyone that trepanning has been a valid medical procedure for millennia! (Also who the hell tries to treat chicken pox with trepanning I swear to god. This was a bad episode and it should feel bad.)

* rules of engagement: didn't remember this one at all. in which apophis had set up a mock sg team boot camp for his soldiers to practice infiltrating the sgc. no strong feelings.

* forever in a day: the one where sha're dies. actually very well done, but i'm glad i checked the summary or all the out of order stuff would have confused me a lot. sets up the search for the harcesis child, or however you spell that, the captions are not reliable because they appear to believe in the word "asguard" as opposed to "asgard".

* past and present: you know, i wouldn't have said the return of linnea would interest me at all, but it was actually very well done. wrapped up nicely.

* jolinar's memories / the devil you know: a two-parter i definitely didn't remember, in which everybody is good under torture, we seem to have taken care of sokar for the moment, and apophis returns, now with a phantom of the opera mask.

* foothold: never got to see this one before. wanted to. it's good. the sgc gets taken over by aliens impersonating all their people except sam and teal'c. badassery ensues. also maybourne gets to be a halfway decent guy for a flickering second.

and that is as far as i have gotten! season three is being kind of boring. seasons four and five have many more of the episodes I'm looking forward to.