#He didn't have to/shouldn't have done any of this

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

stitches. l Joel Miller

before Jackson

Summary: the moment Joel thought he might lose you

Warnings:  angst, blood, weapons, Ellie is in on it, tears, rough night for Joel, some swearing

A/N: this is before they appear in Jackson. the idea for this chapter was given by the wonderful @underneath-the-sky-again . thank you so much! i hope you like it, sweetie. ❤️

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"Take Ellie and try to get out of here."

You looked at him with fear but also determination in your eyes. He had expected the words that left your lips "I won't leave you, Joel."

"But you have to, if you want Ellie to be safe." You nodded "I'll find you. We'll meet outside the city. Remember that red brick building? We'll meet there."

You didn't ask any more questions, just grabbed Ellie by the arm and led her out the back door. Once again, for a moment, you turned to look at Joel.

"Go. Now."

He should have been less harsh. He should have done a lot of things, and he definitely shouldn't have led you there. The road through the city was definitely shorter, and you could find the supplies you needed for the rest of the journey. 

You were all tired, and Ellie was grumpy. She was tired of sleeping under the stars, and when you got soaked one night, she was even grumpier than Joel.

"Something warm, a piece of dry floor. That's the basics!" she said and finally Joel gave in.

These people were probably thinking the same thing. They knew someone was in the building, but they didn't know how many people were there or whether they were armed, that was to your advantage.

Joel reloaded his gun. Maybe you could get out without being noticed? But he had to distract these people, let them think you left the city a different way. His thoughts ran to you and Ellie once more, he knew you'd be fine.

The moment he entered the red brick building on the outskirts of town he knew something was wrong. It was already dark when he entered and secured the door.

"Ellie?" he called out in a muffled voice "Ellie!"

He almost had a heart attack when the girl appeared at the end of the corridor with a flashlight in her hands. Her eyes were wide, she was shaking.

"Are you okay?" he asked, quickly approaching her "W-What is it? Blood?"

Ellie's hands were covered in blood, some of it smeared on her cheek. She was pale as a sheet. Your name barely escaped her lips, and Joel felt as if his legs were giving out under him.

"That guy appeared out of nowhere!" the girl gasped, "She's bleeding terribly."

Joel rushed into the room after her. He knew one thing, he would never forget this sight. You were lying on the floor. Ellie had somehow managed to take off your jacket, but your shirt was soaked in blood on one side. The old towel that Ellie used as a dressing was already covered in blood.

"Fuck!" Joel hissed, falling to the floor next to you. "What happened?"

"There was a guy..." you replied quietly, you were breathing as if you were fighting for every breath, your eyelids seemed so weak. "A few streets away..."

"And you made it all the way here? In this condition?!"

"What was I supposed to do?!" Ellie groaned, sitting on her heels on the other side of you. "She didn't say anything. It wasn't until we left the city..."

Joel's hands easily removed yours, he lifted the towel and uncovered your side. The red mark from the knife ran almost from your hip to your bra. The wound was bleeding badly, although not as intensely since you moved less and pressed the towel that Ellie gave you.

"She'll be fine, right?" the girl's quiet voice focused Joel's scattered thoughts. "Hey! I'm asking you something!"

He nodded. That was all he could do, because he was afraid his lips would betray him. They would betray his fear, worries and uncertainty about you. It looked like you had lost a lot of blood. How much? He wasn't sure.

Focus! Focus!

"There's water in my backpack. Give it to me!" he ordered.

Ellie quickly rushed towards the backpack and after a moment pressed a bottle into his hand. He poured it over your side to clean it a bit.

"Joel? Joel..." you sighed.

"I know, give me a moment." he mumbled, but your hand lightly grabbed his. "My backpack... Ellie knows."

He looked at you, confused, and then at the girl. She didn't wait. She ran to your backpack lying against the wall and started looking through it, finally pulling out something that looked like a makeshift first aid kit. She threw it towards Joel.

A small bottle of alcohol, some bandages, antibiotics that had long since passed their expiration date. It looked bad, but it was all he had.

"I'd have to stitch the wound up." He said more to you than as if he was planning on actually doing it.

You nodded. Your eyes were closed, your breathing shallow. Despite everything, when he poured the alcohol on your side, you hissed loudly in pain.

"Fuck! I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry..."

"It hurts her." Ellie groaned, her voice shaking as she sat down next to Joel.

"I know, but it'll hurt more."

Ellie's small hands pressed a spool of thread and a needle into his palm. Without a word, she walked to where your head was, took your hands, and squeezed them tightly. She knew what had to be done, and so did you. She laced her small fingers with yours and nodded at Joel.

He couldn't remember the last time he was so scared.

Joel opened his eyes and lifted his head. He shouldn't have fallen asleep. He couldn't.

It was starting to dawn. Ellie was curled up next to you, her bloody fingers still tangled with yours. She had spent the whole night watching over you and it was only a few hours ago that he had finally managed to convince her to go to sleep. The night watch belonged to him.

After you had passed out while he was stitching your body, you hadn't opened your eyes yet. Joel knew that this night would haunt him for a very long time. 

Ellie's pale face, her tears running down her cheeks, your blood on his and her hands. He only hoped that he had done everything right. He couldn't lose you, not now, not ever.

Ellie stirred and rubbed her eyelids.

"She's not awake yet?"

Joel shook his head. "You should still be asleep, kiddo." he muttered.

She sat up and rubbed her face with her hand. Her eyes were puffy with tears.

"Do you think she'll wake up?" she asked.

God, she has to!

"If she doesn't wake up on her own, your talking will do the trick" he said, relieved to see the shadow of a smile on Ellie's lips. "You were brave, you know. If it wasn't for you..."

"You sewed her up like a rag doll." she said. "I wouldn't know what to do."

"You would know. You knew she had a first aid kit with her. Good job."

"Yeah, she showed it to me a while ago. She said it was just in case." Ellie stood up and stretched. "I need to find the bathroom. Will you watch her?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled and quietly left the room. Joel leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His whole body ached. Warm coffee would be something he would give a lot for.

A thought flashed through his mind - how long will you have to stay here? Is this place even safe enough for another night? What if he did something wrong?

"J-Joel..."

It was quieter than a whisper, but he still heard it. He opened his eyes and saw you looking at him, your eyelids still heavy, but you fought them.

"Hi, darling." he greeted and stood up to crouch next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Ughh...horrible..." you sighed.

His hand touched your cheek and forehead. You saw the worry written on his face combined with the sleepless night.

"You had a small fever last night. I gave you antibiotics."

"Shit..." you groaned. "You wasted it on me?"

"Best decision ever."

You wanted to smile, but the muscles in your face were strangely numb. Meanwhile, Joel lifted the jacket you were wearing and glanced at your side. The wound was still red, but it wasn't anything to worry about. The most important thing was that you weren't bleeding. And you were conscious.

"Where's Ellie?" you asked.

"She's looking for the bathroom. She sat with you all night." He looked at you with sympathy and worry. "How did you manage to get here? When I showed up, you looked terrible."

"Yeah... That guy, I wasn't expecting him. I didn't want to shoot... That would draw attention."

He nodded. Damn, he knew you were strong and resilient, but he was still full of worries about you. 

Your presence was soothing to him, and the relationship you had with Ellie... The girl would break down if something happened to you. So did he, although he didn't want to admit it. 

You, on the other hand, twitched strangely, making a movement as if you wanted to get up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Joel covered you with his jacket again "You're staying like this."

"We can't stay here. These people..."

"We'll stay another night, or as long as we have to." he declared. "You won't be able to move around yet."

Footsteps in the hallway distracted you, because you clearly wanted to argue with him. Ellie's face lit up when she saw you and a moment later she was sitting next to you.

"Fuck! You scared us so much." she said. "Joel almost had a heart attack!"

The man threw her a look and shook his head. He listened to her babble as she told you in detail about the night, about everything that had happened. He smiled the moment he felt your fingers clumsily find his and squeeze them lightly.

A quiet "Thank you," that he appreciated more than anything. You were alive. Still. Soon you would move on. Slowly, but still, the three of you.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

[staranghae]

the perfect way to spend christmas

summary. jihoon really wants his first christmas with you to be perfect

pairing. loverboy! l.jh x fem! reader genre. new relationship, fluff, crack warnings. seokmin being seokmin, jihoon threatens them but its lighthearted(?) wc. 786 a/n. my first work on here after a while for @k-films advent calender event. also, my first (and possibly only) work where profanity isn't a warning lmao. anygays, enjoy down bad loverboy jihoon <3 mwah mwah merry christmas and happy new years. p.s: check out the masterlist for the event here!

the last thing soonyoung expects to see when he enters his shared apartment with jihoon are christmas decorations.

jihoon putting up a plant smack dab in the middle of the kitchen, to be exact.

"when i told you to decorate for the party, i didn't expect you to go all out like this!", soonyoung exclaims, while placing the bags of food and alcohol on the counter.

"well, this is my first christmas after getting with y/n so it's only appropriate i go all out, especially since we're hosting."

jihoon replies, almost shyly, as he continues taping the mystery plant to the ceiling.

soonyoung merely laughs at his friend. in all honesty, he was somewhat of a cupid in getting the two of you to go out with each other, owing to his balbbermouth tendencies when drunk, exposing jihoon's long term crush on you.

"well. make sure you don't end up putting any mistletoes in there lest seokmin tries to make out with you."

"again." soonyoung adds after a beat.

jihoon's face scrunches up at the thought. they really did not need a repeat of the great disaster '22. he's about to retort when the doorbell rings, signalling the first guest had arrived.

soonyoung gets the door as jihoon cleans up in the kitchen. he can tell by the chaos happening in the doorway that seokmin and seungkwan were the first two to arrive.

he finishes up and goes to greet them. seokmin immediately tackles him into a hug which he reciprocates while the other two tease him about how he broke seokmin's heart by going out with you.

amidst the teasing, the doorbell rings a second time and jihoon finds himself hoping that's it's you behind the door.

the door opens to reveal mingyu and minghao and jihoon is almost disappointed when he catches sight of you behind mingyu's broad frame.

he doesn't even stop to consider the consequences when he shoves walks past mingyu to, quite literally, engulf you in a hug. he only registers what he's done when he hears the hooting and cheering of the members behind him and sees the shell shocked face of seungcheol who had walked up right behind you and mingyu.

he retreats from the hug, embarassed. meanwhile, you were left with a lingering warmth that had gone as fast as it had come.

"well, at least someone exists here who can make the lee jihoon himself lose control." jokes seungcheol as he enters the apartment.

"we'll give you guys some privacy for now," says minghao, leaving you the two of you in the doorway, red faced and flustered.

jihoon breaks the ice first,

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-"

"it's fine, hoon. really. it was actually kinda cute."

"of all the things you could've called me, cute?!" jihoon feigns offense. you giggle at his antics and jihoon swears he could die right now. he notices the bag in your hands and gives you a questioning look.

"cupcakes, for the party." you clarify.

jihoon thanks every being in the universe for giving him the oppurtunity to say what he did,

"let's go to the kitchen and open them, they smell delicious."

you nod excitedly and walk towards the kitchen as jihoon follows.

unbeknownst to you, he silently threatens to do unspeakable things to his friends if they so much so as looked at the two of you while you were in the kitchen

you hum to yourself as you start to open the box of cupcakes when jihoon walks up behind you. you're about to tease him about being oh so obsessed with you when he utters a single word while pointing upwards

"mistletoe"

you look up at the ceiling and sure enough, a dainty little mistletoe is taped to the surface, albeit a little haphazardly. you look back at jihoon. your eyes flit between the mistletoe and jihoon's face.

jihoon can see the gears turning in your head about the possibilities of one of his idiot friends walking in.

"relax, none of them are coming anywhere near us, i assure you."

the tone he uses leaves no room for any buts or what ifs. so you don't ask any and instead opt to kiss him as hard as you can.

he stumbles back a little because of the impact but gains his footing fast enough to wrap his arms around your waist to kiss you back with the same fervor, if not harder.

the two of you end up so lost in each other, you don't even hear the other three holding seokmin down as he yells "me next".

'what a perfect way to spend his first christmas with the woman of his dreams' is last coherent thought that flashes through jihoon's mind before he loses himself in you again.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 5]

He should have never got on that broom.

He shouldn't have tried, he shouldn't have done it inside the Drake manor, he shouldn't have chosen the day when his parents were hundreds of miles away.

He should have at least told Minky. Or Tiksy. Or any other house elf, he should have followed Danny's mother's advice and had an adult around, why is he so bloody stupid, he is such an idiot, he-

"Young Master!" Minky's voice comes from his right after a loud crack of apparation, and Tim almost chokes on another one of his jagged, broken sobs. Everything is blurry, and his eyes and cheeks are wet, and Tim really tries to wipe the tears away, but they just appear again, no doubt making him look as even more of a mess.

"My leg hurts," he tells in the direction of the blurry, brown and white blob that is supposed to be Minky if he could just stop crying for one moment. Then, he sobs again, holding his hands to just above his knee, "Get someone."

He doesn't specify who. Because, and Tim knows it, there's no one to get - his parents are far away, he remembers them mentioning Egypt or maybe Sudan, but Minky can't go that far. But Tim can't do this himself, and house elves can't help because the bone under his knee is bended the wrong way and it hurts, and Tim can hear his own, rushing pulse beat like a drum inside his head.

He is going to die like this. In the middle of Drake manor, on the floor of the empty ballroom. Because no one would come, no one would-

There's a crack in the air, louder than any apparation, that runs like an electric jolt through Tim's skin, and then a crashing bang of broken wood that rings through the whole manor. Tim snaps his head up as his heart skips a beat - no one can come into the manor, there are wards, a lot of them, he knows it.

His lungs hurt, and his leg still hurts, too, and he can't run, but there's someone else in his house, someone who broke through the protective wards. Tim's vision goes from just blurry to dark at the edges - he is breathing too fast, he needs to calm down and make as little noise as possible, because maybe it's some kind of robbers and they-

"Here, Young Master is being here!" He hears Minky's voice again, and he barely has time to feel hurt by her betrayal before there's a huge, looming dark figure in front of him.

Tim whimpers, trying to move away.

It only makes his leg explode in pain all over again, causing him to bite on his lip until there's a coppery taste on his tongue. But then, the figure gets down on one knee, and through all the tears and panic, Tim notices an emblem on the intruder's robes.

A big, golden 'M' with something written on the bottom.

Auror. The man kneeling in front of him is an auror. From the Ministry.

Minky didn't just bring some random person into the manor - and Tim feels so stupid to have thought otherwise, she is a perfectly loyal, caring elf that he's known his whole life, how could he think that way about her? - she did exactly as she's been told. She got someone.

"Hey, there," the auror speaks, and Tim can't really see his face, but his voice is gentle and soft, and there's an intangible wave of warmth radiating from him. Tim had grown to associate it with magic - as in, when there's so much of it in someone's body that it spills out, charging the air around them. Makes sense if he got through the wards of Drake manor all on his own.

"Hi," Tim croaks out, still holding on to his knee, and blinks a couple of times, trying to get rid of his tears. It works badly.

"My name is Bruce," the man speaks again, and his hands are moving, slow and careful so as not to scare Tim with any sudden movements. He would have appreciated it a little more, probably if his leg was not- Tim takes a sharp breath in. If his leg was not broken. There, he's said it. Or, at least he thought it in his head.

But, before he can go back to focusing on the blooming, pulsing pain right under his knee, the auror - Bruce - points his wand at his broken limb, and softly, quietly murmurs, "Praerigidus."

The pain disappears instantly, like someone cut it off, and instead, his leg feels cold and numb, like frozen solid. Tim's breath hitches, and he hastily wipes the tears away to look down at it, just to make sure his leg is still there, that the auror didn't just vanish it into nothingness. But, no, thankfully, it's still attached, albeit bent in a very wrong way that makes Tim's stomach twist.

"Ferula," the man casts again, pointing his wand at Tim's leg once more, and long strips of white bandages appear out of the tip of it, wrapping themselves tightly around the broken limb to secure it. "Let's get you to Mungo's," the auror suggests next, and, for the first time, Tim sees his face.

He looks younger than Father or Mother, and he is definitely darker than them. Drakes are all pale, sometimes even sickly so - in Tim's case, or so he's heard - but the auror's skin is a few shades warmer. And his hair is a mess.

Kind of like Danny's.

Tim nods, not entirely sure he can find his voice or manage to avoid it sounding like he swallowed a frog. The man - he is an adult, and Tim is not comfortable calling him by his first name, and he doesn't know what family he is from - smiles back at him. It's a small smile, one that only touches the corners of his lips, but Tim knows it counts. His Mother smiles in the same way.

Minky makes a high-pitched, worried sound, and Tim feels a little guilty that he completely forgot about her still standing there. He looks up at her and smiles, too, "It's okay, he's an auror," he turns to the man, "Right, sir?"

"That is correct," There's a tinge of amusement in auror's voice as he picks Tim up in his arms like he weights nothing. It's surprisingly comfortable to be held like that. Warm, like the auror's magic. "Thank you, Ms. Minky, I'll take it from here. I will be sending an owl to Mr. and Mrs. Drake, but if you would like to check on your young master later, you have my permission to appear at Wayne Manor at any time. Alfred will be there to meet you."

Tim blinks, his whole body freezing at once, just like his leg did before.

Wayne Manor?!..

—☆—☆—☆—

Where the crash landing happened:

Bruce's portrait back at the Manor and his first impression of Tim:

[Picrew] | [Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

Worldbuilding notes that got really long this time:

Waynes are (err, were) a pureblood family that was proud of their heritage and resented muggles and muggle culture quite publicly. But then Martha came along, a sweet half-blood Slytherin child full of charm, innocent smiles and ambition that went far beyond what anyone expected. Thomas, who was also very much a Slytherin, was gone for her instantly, and, shortly after they were wed, they both started - also publicly - giving zero shits about pureblood nonsense.

They later died by the hands of a muggle, while coming back from a muggle cinema in a muggle part of London, and Daily Prophet was very cruel about it. There were more than a few articles that went on and on about the matter, most of them along the lines of 'that's what you get for liking muggles'.

Newly orphaned Bruce was left with an empty Wayne Manor, a few house elves, and Alfred Pennyworth, who claimed himself a butler (but the rumor has it he was in a relationship with both Martha and Thomas, and the evidence - he was also a Slytherin in their year - speaks for itself, and besides, who in their right mind becomes a butler in the wizarding world without some ulterior motives?)

Understandably, Bruce threw a fit and promptly became, a) a fucking menace, b) the first Gryffindor in the Wayne family in six generations, c) an auror, d) hell-bent on adopting the most unfitting (heritage-wise) kids into his family, according to the Prophet. He is on the mission to fistfight a millenia old prejudice, and he is desperate to win.

Minky fetched him of all people because he was the closest competent adult in the area with enough magic to get through the wards. Waynes and Drakes are neighbors - as much as you can say that when they both have acres of land in their respective estates.

Also, Tim's reaction to the name happens because, one, his parents made it obvious enough they don't like Bruce despite him being their closest neighbor, and, technically, a pureblood, and two, he didn't expect to not be returned back to Drake estate after his leg is dealt with.

Dick is currently a fourth year in Hogwarts and Jason is a first year (just like Jazz, btw). More on them later.

Also, hey, remember the poll? Heroic break in it was, with the additional spice of broom accident.

[<- part 4 | part 6 ->]

[kepler-station]

VIRTUE OF INNOCENCE/GRIEF + THE FIVE BEASTS ⟡ How the Beasts acted with INNOCENCE + Individual reactions to GRIEF/HEALING

— p.s. the wanderer!reader is like 80% done, it's just that i need to do the quest w/ wanderer getting a vision to complete it fully. rq by @damsel-balladeer, thank you for requesting!

— i'm gonna be honest, this is probably my favorite au i've seen with the beasts + beast! reader next to brittle-doughie's compassion au. i love the idea of sorrow already, and innocence is very similar to my own personal self-insert in crk. haha, wonder if anyone would like to see that (the lore isn't finished, don't request it).

— p.s. i didn't know where i could add this in but their soul jam broke immediately after they witnessed their old friends, the corrupted beasts getting trapped in the tree. having to watch who were practically their parents be locked away as they pleaded for you to remember them, that they loved them... what a blow to your emotional health. that is an understatement.

— no explaination for the virtue of innocence, just go here, lol.

APT. — ROSÉ & BRUNO MARS ıllı.

· · ͟͟͞͞꒰ TW. beasts are referred to their beast names instead of any headcanon pre-corruption names.

· · ͟͟͞͞꒰ SHADOW MILK COOKIE ıllı.

— if we thought of the beasts as Innocence's parents, as the VIRTUE OF KNOWLEDGE, shadow milk would be like the fun parent. of course, he's probably also the type to give out fun facts about earthbread and do fun things with them.

— he's likely the type to be good with kids because of his theatric skills. he can tell vivid stories, do plays with the other beasts to make you laugh, and make all kinds of jokes and anything that you find funny! it's not on me to pick your favorite beast, but if i were Innocence, shadow milk would probably be my favorite to be with. he's also be best at cheering you up!

— however as the BEAST OF DECEIT, it's likely that he'd still do all the theatric shenanigans he did, but it would be corrupted. plays about your favorite stories would now be different from the way you remember, and he'd gaslight you into thinking it was the original if you said it was different.

— in my headcanon, he was the first to be corrupted out of the five. he'd still care for you, but it's laced with deceit and horrible things you shouldn't be knowing as a child. to the very end, he still had a tinge of care for you even if the others cried because you'd be left behind. he was the one who tried cheering you up when you first turned into grief, albeit with corrupted stories and plays about he and his friends victory with scenarios such as the victory and happiness you'd have if you joined them. he was the one who first wanted to leave because he wanted to find you again, seeing how hurt you were at their decent to villainy...

· · ͟͟͞͞꒰ ETERNAL SUGAR COOKIE ıllı.

— she's the VIRTUE OF HAPPINESS, you always used to be so happy around her! it was probably eternal sugar and shadow milk who actually made you laugh and smile and happy because they did their best to play with you and interact you! in fact, she was the one who made the black cat doll you still carry to this day! dusted with happiness, she promised that if you hugged it, no matter where she was they were, she'd they'd always hug back even if they were already gone.

— she smiled so sweetly when she saw you hug it for the first time, it only took a glance between her and shadow milk to hug you right then and there. "see, we'll keep the promise!"

— she's second to my favorite beast if i was innocence, and she'd also likely still care after she was corrupted, albeit more slowly. she's the type to go "five more minutes..." when you'd ask her to play. in the early days of her SLOTH, she'd still play with you, but more sleepily and lazily. she'd probably fall asleep half way but still care about you when you cried, offering a cloud for you to sleep on.

— she and shadow milk were also probably the only ones who wanted to get out with also the reason to comfort you. some of her few words to you before she was caged in were some that told you to remember about the doll, that they'll still be with you through it, that she still loves you...

— (later note, she also was the one who taught you how to properly use your magic, emotional magic. you probably learned to control the blue emotional aura trick from her.)

· · ͟͟͞͞꒰ MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE ıllı.

— as the VIRTUE OF VOLITION, she's the chill parent, and the most actually motherly (sugar's more like the fun mom) towards you. moments with her are always the most calm, and the most perfect for sleeping! she always offers the perfect atmosphere for sleeping, she's your go-to for whenever you're tired.

— she's the one who actually made the promise within black cat doll work, except what actually happens when you hug it is a comforting warmth that radiates from within that makes you think that they're hugging you right there even if they aren't. eternal sugar talked with her when she first made the doll, flying up to her temple and requesting to actually make the promise work when you hugged it.

— she's not the type to go full on play mode with you, but she smiles whenever she sees you playing with shadow milk/eternal sugar. she's happy to see you happy, but when you go to her, she'll make anything you want come true. a feast of jellies? a new set of clothing? a new island just for you? all of it, just for you!

— speaking of the island, she was the one who made the island. when you got old enough (atleast what she deemed old enough to have your own island), she made not just an island, but an archipelago with your aesthetics and palette just for you, and even taught you how it operated and how you can change it at your will! there's even five secret rooms hidden in discreet islands decorated with each of their palettes and themes as a room of comfort, but she was never able to tell you where they were as she fell into a deep state of APATHY far too soon.

— her apathy meant that she stopped playing with you, stopped granting your wishes and stopped smiling when she saw you at all. inside, she felt a tinge of happiness whenever she saw you... not cry, but it never showed enough to make you smile. you meant nothing to her at the peak of her corruption, but she made a promise to make you see her world of white as one of the last times you spent time with her as she saw, and you'd be with her forever...

· · ͟͟͞͞꒰ BURNING SPICE COOKIE ıllı.

— you never hung out with the VIRTUE OF CHANGE for too long because it always seemed like his ideas of fun were a little too... fiery? dangerous even, is what eternal sugar would call it with her face covered in concern after he burned you that one time he played with you.

— he told you great stories about the kingdoms he changed and the battles he fought, and the look of awe on your face was enough for him to make himself proud that he was able to make you happy in one way.

— he trained you in the past, however your capabilities in physical attack were nil because your natural abilities are more focused on emotional magic. it was also with him that he found that out because a blue aura covered beast-yeast when you cried out due to the burn. he never forgave himself for making you cry, and eternal sugar made sure he regretted it (he still regrets it but he hides it around his spice lackeys such as nutmeg tiger and pepper pangolin). if you're into sports, he does that with you too and even if you're not, he teaches you sports and you either have fun or he gets banned from teaching you sports by our local virtue of happiness again.

— when he became the BEAST OF DESTRUCTION, he stopped playing with you. he didn't stop talking to you, but he always ignored the way you cried when he told you how kingdoms fell due to his fire, the way you cried when he went off to kill another kingdom. still, you never saw the way in private he still reminisces of the days when you two were happy together playing even as a group because sugar banned him from playing with you since he burned you (cue a glare at eternal sugar in her cage). he may miss those days but he'll never admit it out of almost almost doing so when nutmeg tiger mentions you.

· · ͟͟͞͞꒰ SILENT SALT COOKIE ıllı.

— i can never see the VIRTUE OF SOLIDARITY being an active playmate of yours, it was always just shadow milk and eternal sugar (mystic flour is a stretch so shes not an active playmate, she's more like the rich mother who actually mothers and spoils you with whatever you want). burning spice and him were the ones who protected you and helped you when danger struck. as a knight, silent salt was literally your knight in shining armor.

— he was always pretty quiet, but he shows he cares through his sweet actions. he's always watching over you and he and mystic flour taught you important things like what's right and wrong, proper manners and important life lessons you'll need when you're older. while the shadow milk and eternal sugar were the fun parents, he and mystic flour were the parents who spoiled you but actually parented (they taught you what you needed to learn as a child), and burning spice is... there, he'll pick you up from soccer practice. that's all i have to say about burning spice.

— as the BEAST OF SILENCE, he ignored you constantly, with silence that just screamed "i'm busy". he still protected you fiercely, so much that it caused turmoil between him and shadow milk (eternal sugar if she was awake enough to play). you'll never see it because of the mask, but behind that facade he was pretty sad whenever you were sad. it wasn't your magic, it was just his natural emotions, but he ignored you and that too.

· · ͟͟͞͞꒰ HOW DID THE BEASTS REACT TO THE BEAST OF SORROW/GRIEF? ıllı.

— it was SHADOW MILK COOKIE who saw you first. when pure vanilla and shadow milk came back to fight one another. now freed, it was you, white lily, pure vanilla, and the grave gang against him once again. but wait, who was this cookie in a deep blue coat with the shining lilac tear crystal on their chest?

— when this mysterious cloaked cookie laid their eyes on the beast in the final fight of it all, in the heat of it all as he took away white lily in a fit of revenge, it was there when the blue aura consumed the atmosphere. of course, white lily fell onto the ground, sobbing, as well as the others accompanying them. pure vanilla cried atop the blue tower and shadow milk was in tears as well. you... you... it was you... INNOCENCE?

— they could see the way the beasts' eyes softened as he cried genuine tears. you proclaimed how hurt you were when they turned against the light, the years you cried so much the sea level rose and almost drowned beast-yeast as you were forced to lock yourself away deep in the seas to prevent losing your friends and the cookies you strived to protect, the cookies they failed to protect all those years ago.

— it was here when your friends striked the beast enough to beat him up, but he still just looked astonished... how much time has passed for you to be all grown up, a literal adult the next time they had met again? would you still enjoy his plays or would an emotional flood destroy his props as you cried out...?

— from there, MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE and BURNING SPICE COOKIE found out next, both with different reactions.

— mystic flour of course, had little reaction on the outside. apathy had clouded her resolution so much she could hardly care as much as shadow milk did, but if you used your blue aura thang on her, she'd probably show tears too. hollow, white tears, but her face showed no sadness. on the inside though...

— wow, look at you. you're all grown up, pretty at that. your cloak hid most of you but this wasn't the cookie she once granted mindless, childish wishes to, you were an adult with your own responsibilities, you were like them prior to their corruption.

— deep down, she wished you would not follow the same path they did as a new hero of cookiekind. she has true faith in you and what you can do for cookiekind, she just doesn't care enough to show it.

— burning spice however was more excited about what you could do now that you're grown. he can do what he's dreamed of doing for so long... FIGHTING YOU!

— he doesn't break down when your aura surrounds his spice valleys like how his lackeys broke down in tears, he just wiped that stream away and distracted himself by taking you down.. attempting to atleast.

— inside, he feels... weird. it feels odd to feel this way after years of wallowing in the fires of destruction. how much has he missed? how much time has passed since you were a child? that child that eternal sugar banned him from playing with a long, long time ago was no more... all that was left was a fully grown adult drowned in their own sorrow and tears (literally), he can see your eyebags from the years you spent grieving and mourning over the loss of your friends. he almost feels bad for you... what? no, let's fight instead, none of that mushy emotions. maybe your magic is working. damn you, eternal sugar for teaching you those tricks.

— speaking of ETERNAL SUGAR COOKIE... truth be told, she was probably asleep and waved you off. what happened to the fun mom you once hung out with literally everyday? same with SILENT SALT COOKIE, but inside they feel... more or less the same, actually.

— both felt a deep sense of mourning for losing out on your entire life. you were an adult now, they missed almost your entire life growing up from an innocent wee little child to a fully grown adult, a depressed one, almost. you spent years wallowing in grief and sorrow over the loss of your friends. you believed they were taken away as a child but now you see the truth. you weren't a child anymore, long gone was the innocent and naive child they remember. those tricks don't work anymore, they know better now. all those years you spent crying and crying so much so that you almost drowned beast-yeast and had to lock yourself in the seas under your island to stop in hopes that they'd come back one day...

— eternal sugar won't be beat by your emotional magic, she knows all of that, she taught you that... is what she thinks because you actually beat her. how? how did you do that? you couldn't control yourself back then, how did... simple, you grew up. sugar was thinking of the child of old she once taught magic too, same with salt, just more silent about it.

[a-girl-named-fran]

DATV Rant pt 2

I guess I'm not done, I've got more gripes I need to excise.

Why did Varric die when stabbed by the lyrium dagger?? Harding touched it for a second but apparently that was enough for her to be awakened to the stone, and it saved her life when she fell from the cliff.

How sick would it have been if Varric had been awakened by the blade in his chest and it changed him like it changed Harding? How SICK would it have been if the chunk of lyrium that drove his brother to madness was the very same now buried in his chest? If the dwarven storyteller, so unable to tell the stories of his own people out of pain and regret for his mother, became One with the Stone? He would obviously struggle with the weight of it and potentially come to terms, if supported by Inquisitor/Rook/Hawke.

Why was Harding the only dwarf that got to reconnect to the Stone in such a way? The dagger was on Rook's hip for the better part of the game, why weren't they letting any dwarf they met interact with it in the hopes they could tap into that innate self of belonging?

The entire history of the dwarves has been stripped from them. First by the Evanuris, then the Blight. They, like the Dalish, are mere shadows of what they once were but are even more in the dark than the elves are. Why can't we share this knowledge, this gift of reunion, with Stalgard or the dwarves of Kal-Sharok? At least give us a conversation with Varric or Harding on why it might not be a good idea at the time?

I love Harding, don't get me wrong, but she treats the connection she has with the titans like it was specifically meant for her. The only reason she has it is because she got to it first, a dwarven Rook would've had the same chance to experience it if they'd gotten to it first. ALSO, why doesn't a dwarven Rook experience something similar? That leads into another gripe I have about the lack of any substantial racial awareness Rook can experience as a dwarf. If dwarf Rook can't get that connection, why didn't they tell us why? What is special about Harding that can't be replicated with any other dwarf in contact with the dagger?

I'm frustrated. I can see the threads of a decent game but they are bare and leave me more confused than before. I'd be more satisfied if there were in-game explanations to these grievances, but I'm forced to rely on headcanon. We shouldn't have to rely on headcanon to make sense of the story at large. We certainly shouldn't have to turn to afterthought tweets and deranged Reddit AMAs.

I guess that's the bulk of my griping about this game for now. I'm sure I'll find something else to nitpick as I trudge through another play-through trying to find the spark I'm missing from previous entries.

[alexihollis]

Unintended Beneficiaries

*Follow-up of People We Leave Behind*

"Holy shit," Cleon muttered as she looked down at the paperwork in front of them, laying so innocently on the polished wood desk.

Mercy shifted in her seat, pulled on the too-short sleeves of the tweed jacket they found at a thrift store last minute. Cleon decided that they needed to look more presentable once she saw the address of the bank - financial advisor, technically. Said financial advisor - Mr. Barnaby who Mercy vaguely recognized and who smiled at her, asked about her schooling - had left to go finish up the paperwork and withdrawal for the first bit of money Mercy asked for.

"Holy shit, Mercy, this is- this is more than money," Cleon looked at her, eyes wide.

"Yeah..." Mercy shifted, again. She didn't know what to do with her hands as Cleon kept staring at her.

When they sat down, Mr. Barnaby had started on about the shares of some buildings Mercy shared with her younger siblings. Then, how well her investments were doing.

"Your mother was a smart one," Mr. Barnaby had laughed. "She liked those volatile stocks, but they've done well. Eh, mostly, one or two were a bit of a wash, but it barely impacted your overall portfolio. We sold some early last year for you, gave you a good boost - your father approved that management style, of course, but we can discuss that if you'd like to change it-"

That wasn't even beginning to talk about the straight cash inheritance from her father's accounts, which is what they were withdrawing from that day.

"I don't even- You need to keep him," Cleon gestured to the door, referring to Mr. Barnaby. "I mean- Jesus, investments?! You own buildings." Cleon looked at her once more, eyes wide. "You could do whatever the fuck you want."

Yeah. Mercy was getting the sense of that with these papers.

"I wasn't supposed to," Mercy said. Matter of fact, staring down at the paperwork with her name printed neatly under Beneficiary. At Cleon's confusion, she continued. "They had a clause that Cheryl could challenge the trust, if I didn't graduate high school. If I didn't go to college. Before I turned twenty-one, Cheryl could challenge it and it would all go to my siblings. She was dumb enough to let that pass, though...so..."

Cleon shook her head. Rubbed a hand over her face as she leaned back in the chair, "I cannot- Holy shit. Holy fuck, I should not be here."

That startled Mercy. "What?"

"I should not be here. You- this is crazy money. This is real money. I thought- I thought we were talking, like, a lot of money, but...this- this is set you up for life money. This is run away upstate and buy a fucking house money." Cleon stared at the papers, still disbelieving. "Between the investments. The buildings. You and Swan...you could have a life. A real life."

Mercy stared at Cleon. "I don't want that life."

"Mercy-"

"I still have the money. I can make life easier for us. For all of us, but I'm not leaving. And you're crazy if you think Swan would let me take her away from Coney," Mercy said.

"You should at least talk about it with her."

"We already talked about it."

"Yeah, when you were vastly underestimating how much money this was!" Cleon once again shook her head, as if she could barely believe the situation, a somewhat dazed movement. "You shouldn't waste it-"

"Shouldn't you be considering our previous plans less of a waste, since it's way more than we thought?" Mercy asked. "Besides, it's generative. According to those numbers, it'll recuperate within six months."

Cleon blinked, owlishly, as she realized Mercy was right. "That is a disgusting fact. How are you making money with it just sitting there, that doesn't make any damn sense?"

Mercy just shrugged. She never understood much about this stuff, either.

Mr. Barnaby returned with the envelope of cash and the small new checkbook.

"Do you have a car waiting outside for you?" He asked as he handed the items to Mercy. "We'll be happy to call one for you, but I must insist on you not taking the subway with this much on you. Remind me next time you come in to set you up with a debit card! I won't bore you with all the details now, but it truly is ingenious."

"We have some friends waiting for us," Mercy smiled and, as he walked them out of the building, sincerely hoped none of the Riffs chose to stand outside of the car in their colors.

Fortunately, they did not, though Barnaby did seem rather perplexed as he watched her and Cleon get in the car.

"Did it go well?" Masai asked as they began the drive back to Coney.

"Eh. Well enough," Cleon said, ever calm and collected.

Mercy felt like her pocket was on fire.

No one said anything as Cleon described the meeting, Mercy sitting on the couch, holding the envelope of cash. The envelope of more cash than they initially planned on withdrawing. Far more.

It was silent, everyone staring at Cleon or Mercy once Cleon finished.

"Wow," Cowgirl all but whispered, breaking the tense atmosphere.

Ajax barked out a laugh, incredulous and shocked. "Wow is fucking right! I mean- damn. What do we do now? Buy the island?"

"We are not buying Coney Island and we aren't doing anything," Swan narrowed her eyes. "It's Mercy's money."

"Aw, no fair, that means Swan's gonna get all the shit," Ajax whined, kind of teasing, but Mercy could watch as everyone started to come to the same conclusions Cleon had.

This was way more money than Mercy assumed. This was more money than any of them thought they would see in their whole lifetimes. This was money that could get them killed if any gang got even a hint that they had it, even the Riffs, even with the alliance.

Mercy set her jaw. Opened the envelope and started counting while feeling heavy eyes on her. She pulled out a good majority of the envelope, a healthy amount left over, but a good amount now in hand.

And handed it to Cleon.

"What the fuck." Cleon stared at it.

"That should be enough for rent for the year."

"This is way more than our-"

"For all the apartments. Use it for that or put it in the pot, but...If that's okay." And now Mercy felt self-conscious. "I mean, it's not like I earned that. And, really, my father would have hated this, you're doing me a favor-"

"Oooooh, we could break our lease and get a place without roaches!" Cowgirl exclaimed. "Cleon, please, please let us use that money to break our lease. I am sick of the bugs!"

"We talked about this," Cleon kept her voice low as she looked at Mercy.

"This is what I want to do," Mercy said. "I want to help my family. Let me."

"I cannot believe I am letting you do this," Cleon muttered under her breath, her eyes closed, before opening them once again. "All right. Okay. Rent is cleared for- Yeah. Uh. Cowgirl, Cochise. You can break your lease and- Mercy, we are having a conversation about money, because I am starting to think you don't have a clue what things cost if you think this is how much are rent is."

"Yesssss, no more bugs," Cowgirl cheered to herself.

"They are not that bad," Cochise said.

"Yeah. You lived in the jungle for two years. You don't get an opinion."

"I lived in an army hospital."

"Army field hospital and you have described the bugs-"

It was a weird feeling, having the money. Toeing the line between wanting to spend it on the people she cared about, but also not insulting them. Making sure no one felt like it was charity.

Like when Rembrandt complained about her cans on a tagging mission and Mercy spent the rest of the night trying to figure out how to offer to buy her new cans.

It ended with Rembrandt catching her trying to read the label on her current cans.

"The fuck are you doing?" Rembrandt asked. Not even mad, really, but bemused.

"Do you want new cans?" Mercy blurted out, because this was already awkward.

Rembrandt blinked at her. And then - realization. "Oh, my God. Yes. Yes, I do."

And...

Well.

They went a bit crazy at the art supplies store the next morning. They dropped them in the middle of the living room and Mercy helped Rembrandt sort it all into three separate art bags. One for tagging, one for her murals, and one for her at-home-only supplies.

"...What happened in here?" Mercy startled at Ajax's voice, looking up to see Cleon, Swan, and Ajax all staring at them.

"Art," Rembrandt said in the most gremlin like voice Mercy had ever heard in her life. "So much art. I got the fancy spray paint." Rembrandt laughed. Maniacally. "It'll take at least three layers of paint to cover it."

Oh, boy.

"I think you broke my girlfriend," Ajax said after a moment.

"I'm sorry." Mercy wasn't, not really, but there wasn't anything else to say really.

"Don't be. Yet. Do those cans need special masks?"

"I got them in five different colors," Rembrandt held up the special masks.

Ajax covered her mouth, very clearly trying not to laugh as she nodded slowly and managed to say. "That's great."

Then, that night, a night that Cleon had decided was to be for fun and bonding and going out, Mercy tried to subtly slide more money into the piles Cleon was making for everyone.

"I can see you," Cleon said, not looking up from her pile making. Mercy stood, stock still, money still in hand as Cleon looked at her. Cleon rolled her eyes and held out her hand, "You are ridiculous."

That night, Cochise raised a suspicious eyebrow at her portion. Then, to Mercy's horror, "Dead dad money?"

"We are not calling it that," Swan said immediately.

"My father was against women drinking," Mercy tried to explain.

Ajax's head immediately whipped towards Mercy. "He was against women drinking?"

Mercy shrugged. "He said it was immodest."

Ajax nodded slowly. "Yep. Okay, let's get blasted on dead dad money."

"We are not calling it that!" Swan insisted, but Ajax was already in the bar. "Jesus Christ."

"We can call it that, I don't mind," Mercy promised at they went in themselves. "I didn't like the guy anyway."

Swan shook her head. "Its not that. If we start running around talking about dead dad money in our colors, someone's going to think we killed him."

Mercy considered it. "Yeah. Probably for the best we don't do that, his death was suspicious enough already."

Swan paused. Looked at Mercy. Looked away. Looked at Mercy.

"I'm kidding," Mercy smiled.

"You are the worst."

"Eh, I'll buy you a drink to make up for it."

"Yeah, with dead dad money."

Which was the worst time for Swan to make that joke, because there was Ajax suddenly, handing them both drinks and saying, "We aren't calling it that, Swanie."

"Oh, fucking bite me," Swan grumbled, before slamming back the drink.

It was three days later when Mercy dragged Swan into a bookstore.

"What are we doing here?" Swan asked.

"Books."

Swan eyed her. "You don't like reading that much."

"But you do," Mercy said. "And...we do have Dead Dad money."

Swan rolled her lips, eyes darting between Mercy and the rest of the store. "Will you stop calling it that if I say yes?"

"Probably not," Mercy smiled.

Swan picked out books, anyways. Not as many as Mercy urged her to, but enough to satisfy Mercy.

"You don't need to do this," Swan said as they left the store. "The library is good."

"The library's great," Mercy checked Swan's shoulder gently. "C'mon. I don't get to spoil you a lot, let me?"

And Swan did not say anything to that, but the red on her cheeks said more than enough.

It wasn't always big things or fun things. It wasn't always trips to the art store or nights out.

It was getting to go to the Urgent Care instead of the free clinic when Cowgirl twisted her ankle going down a fire escape.

It was buying the nice butter or multiple kinds of ice cream for the apartment.

It was being able to turn down jobs when they needed to. Like when Ajax and Swan both came down with the flu at the same time.

That had been miserable, even with the medicine from the fancy aisle at the pharmacy.

Over the months, though, the Warriors got used to having their fall back. They got used to having a bit of fun here and there. Subtle fun, because no one else needed to know.

But fun all the same.

In the back of Mercy's mind, though, she knew that this did not come without strings. There was nothing Cheryl could do, she went back and triple checked with Mr. Barnaby, explained the situation in the vaguest of terms. Cheryl could not touch the money.

"I must tell you, though, when your siblings turn eighteen, you will be in contact with them," Mr. Barnaby said. "It's simply the nature of how your father split his real estate assets."

Mercy considered it. "Can I sell them? When they turn eighteen?"

Mr. Barnaby shook his head. "Not without a discussion with them. They have right of first refusal."

Fantastic.

"What about before?"

"Then that would be a conversation with your stepmother."

Amazing.

So. Yeah. The money meant not being able to leave that family behind. But it also meant being able to safeguard her family.

And that would always be more important.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 22

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: Bucky and the reader start a heart to heart.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of witchcraft, past trauma.

You keep your hands down, watching them as they shake, as Bucky drives you home. His eyes flicker between your face, the road ahead and your hands.

"You OK?" He asks.

"I'm not sure." You reply, your voice full of uncertainty.

"Look, what she said..."

"I don't want to talk about it." You say abruptly, rubbing the tears from your face. Buck sighs in response.

"Sorry." You whisper.

"You don't need to be sorry. You don't want to talk about it, so that's on me, but I need you to know none of what she said is true and it won't stop Steve wanting you."

"You don't know that." You reply, your gaze now out the window.

"I do."

You can't help but role your eyes.

"Y/N, I know Steve. I've known that punk since we were knee high on a playground. I know everything about him. It's the reason I'm the beta of the pack. I can read that kid like a book, and I know how much it tore him apart when he was rejected, and I know he'd never do that to you."

"But that's the thing, you know Steve, you don't know me James."

Bucky tries to ignore the pull in his chest when he hears you call him by his first name.

"Well, I know now that your mother's an asshole."

"Not just my mother."

"Your dad too?"

"My biological dad, I don't even know him. My stepfather, I don't even know where to start."

"Start at the beginning."

"I'm not drunk enough for that and you don't have all day to listen to my bullshit."

"I've got time. and you've brought vodka."

You shook your head and let out a huff.

"You're not going to let this go are you? You're not going to give up? Any of you?"

"I can't speak for that bunch of idiots but I can speak for myself, and for Steve." He paused and reached over to squeeze your hand. "They didn't give up on me, and I'm not giving up on you."

You looked down at his hand on yours and pulled yours away.

"You shouldn't have done that, I could of hurt you."

"But you didn't, plus your hands aren't shaking anymore."

Your brow furrowed and you looked down to see he was right.

"You seem confused babydoll?"

"It's normally harder than that."

"Well according to Sam, and it kills me to use that idiot as a reference," he smirked, "but he said its usually easier for a witch to control things when they're with their pack, and I know Wanda has definitely been more settled since she became part it."

"Wanda, that's Natasha mate? Pietro's sister?"

"Yeah, her and Nat are kinda busy at the minute."

You smirked.

"Oh I know I can smell them all the way up here."

Bucky let out a chuckle.

"Yeah I think her shielding needs work. Maybe you can help her with that?"

"Maybe." You shrugged.

"I have a question."

"You seem to have a lot of those."

"Actually, I haven't asked you that much at all little miss luna." He replied, a glint in his eye. You rolled your eyes. "So, can I ask?"

"About what?"

"Is it true you put a shield over the whole damn town? In Queensborough?"

"Oh my goddess, is that really your question?"

"Yep, look I've served right, I seen shields, seen witches on the frontline. I've seen Wanda use them here and there, and Loki, but we try not to talk about him. Anyway, they said, I heard it was the whole town."

"From who?"

"A contact from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Oh that Fury guy?"

Bucky laughed hard.

"What? Why are you laughing?"

"That 'Fury guy' is the Director or S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Well, he should do his job better." You shrugged. Bucky laughed again.

"You're right, he should." He laughed. You watched as his face lit up with a smile, and his eyes creased with laughter. He really was a beautiful beta. Bigger than any you had ever met and built very differently to Billy but there was something about him you couldn't shake. You felt your cheeks heat and pulled your eyes away. Looking around you realised you were home. Well, your current home, Stark's cottage. Sam pulled up in your car, parking it back in your original space next to the cottage. He stepped out and made his way to the passenger side of the truck. You put the window down as he approached.

"You OK?" He asked. You nodded in reply.

"I'm sorry for causing a scene back there. If I embarrassed you..."

"Woah, woah, woah, hold on a second there babygirl. You did not embarrass us." Sam told you.

You looked down at your hands.

"But"

"But nothing. You didn't embarrass us. Now, do you need to release some of that energy because I know a couple of spots that Pepper wanted plants." He smiled, pulling open the door for you. "Do you know how to do that? Push into the ground, make plants and all that?"

"I do, I've not done it in a while though." You replied, thinking back to your lessons with Cordelia and Fiona.

"You've got this babygirl." He replied, as he helped you from the truck.

Sam guided you around to the back of the cottage and into the back garden, which you'd yet to venture into. Bucky followed closely behind, his hand soon finding the small of your back. As you looked between them both, you couldn't help but feel at ease. They weren't scared of your powers and if anything, they seemed to embrace it. Being in the military they'd seen witches in all shapes and sizes, and had probably fought with them and against them. So had Billy and Frank, but even they had been suspicious of you to begin with. It was the reason Frank had gone looking for you when he'd heard the rumours around town that you were there and why he asked what you wanted in exchange for helping them at the docks the day of the accident. Sure things had changed quite quickly, but there was something about Sam and Bucky being unfazed, being so accepting that warmed your heart.

Maybe you should talk to Steve.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @slut4rogers @jvanilly @otterlycanadian @neocity-mel @jessjessmarvelandhp @littletomboy2

[occultbooks]

dylan's hilson playlist masterpost

THIS IS A LONG POST!

I have a lot of thoughts and opinions and you don't have to agree but they make me feel so sick to my stomach that I had to make a post. Music is, in my mind, one of the greatest things in the world. I'm very passionate about it. So, here is a (chronological) list of songs that remind me of House and Wilson.

You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies (1967) - Simon & Garfunkel

S&G deep cut I love. One of their only singles that didn't end up on an album. This one is pretty straightforward. Could be from either perspective, but I like to think it's Wilson's perspective. The song starts:

You don't know that you love me You don't know, but I know that you do

and the second verse includes the line:

You may think that we're friends, all right But I won't let friendship get in my way

The vibe of the song is also much more musically intense than Simon & Garfunkel tend to veer in their love-related songs, making it aesthetically fitting to Hilson as well.

2. Starry Eyes (1979) - The Records

This one is slightly up to interpretation (not a very popular song so meanings aren't readily available) but it has a kind of melancholy unrequited "giving up" theme.

I don't wanna argue, there's nothing to say Get me out of your starry eyes and be on your way

I like to think of this one also as from Wilson's perspective, but he's pretending he's speaking on behalf of the hospital, offended at House acting in his own self-interest. Early season 8 "we're not friends anymore" vibes.

3. This Night (1983) - Billy Joel

Being on the same album as Leave a Tender Moment Alone, this one is very fitting to me. This one, in my head, is like House's perspective, alternate universe where Wilson isn't so repressed. The lyrics are so deliciously tragic to me even though the resolution of the song implies happy endings. Verse 2 makes me feel sick to my stomach:

I've been around, someone like me should know better Falling in love would be the worst thing I could do Didn't I say I needed time to forget her? Aren't you running from someone who's not over you?

UEGGHHGRHGAHGHR sorry this one I can't even be civil about. it makes me emotional

4. You Make Me Feel Like a Whore (1995) - Everclear

This one is self-explanatory but I'll preface a little bit before writing out some of the lyrics. This could be either House or Wilson perspective. Horniest middle-aged men in New Jersey. I feel like they're all over each other all the time. A bunch of freaks.

I take your word like it was gospel  I'm so eager to please  Yeah I like it when you talk to me  It feels so good inside your shadow  It's the place I need to be Yeah I know I need to climb you  Like a tree

Yeah. You guys know. The rest of the song is just as horny and I just...yeah.

5. Selfless, Cold and Composed (1997) - Ben Folds Five

House perspective for so many reasons. Many lyrics about someone telling you they're done with you and walking out, and you feeling like that's probably fair.

You don't owe me to be so polite You've done no wrong You've done no wrong Get out of my sight

but the one that fucks me up is

Come on baby now throw me A right to the chin Don't just stare like You never cared I know you did

Asking the other person to hit him to show that they care is such a House thing. Again: early season 8. This could realistically be any House relationship, really, but it's so Hilson breakup to me.

6. G.I.N.A.S.F.S. (2007) - Fall Out Boy

Fun fact: the song title stands for "Gay Is Not a Synonym For Shitty." Just thought that was interesting. Anyway, this is also from House's perspective. I could probably go into detail about every individual lyric but I'll try not to. This song is about yearning for someone you either can't have or shouldn't pursue. Post-canon (post-Wilson death) makes the most sense for most of the song but it could also be just House being in his own head and believing Wilson is too far away to reach.

Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house In your shoes, you know it's strange It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you

I feel like House probably wears Wilson's clothes after he dies. It makes me unbelievably sad to think about. Anyway, the second verse followed by the pre-chorus kills me:

I've already given up on myself twice Third time is the charm, third time is the charm Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a lousy arm And I've traced your shadows on the wall, now I kiss them Whenever I'm down, whenever I'm down Figured I'm not figuring myself out Things aren't the same anymore Some nights, they get so bad I almost pick up the phone

Thinking about House grieving...augh. They make me nauseous.

7. Away Frm U (2012) - Oberhofer

This song is about resisting someone who is shutting you out to try and keep them afloat. It doesn't have a lot of lyrics. It's very Wilson though.

You're pushing me away from you And there's nothing I can do And I can't fight all of your battles for you

That's about it.

8. Everyone But You (2017) - The Front Bottoms

The vibe of this song is fairly cliche, but "I hate everyone but you" as a concept is so delicious. It's also a little bit about feeling numb, which is very House to me.

It doesn't get worse, it doesn't get better You just get old, it lasts forever Can't get happy, can't get sad It's hard to do When I hate everyone but you

It's so sad to think about how House just spends his whole life trying to be as numb as possible because everything hurts all the time, and the only one who is (somewhat) consistent in his life is Wilson.

I fell in love 'Cause no one saw me the way you did And no one's seen me that way since But for a short time that's how I lived

Again, this could be any House relationship (ESPECIALLY Stacy), but also thinking about post-Wilson death House reminiscing is so...argh.

That's all I have for now. I mean, I have more songs on my playlist, but this is all I feel confident enough to pick apart. Link to the full playlist here, though it is Apple Music so sorry if u don't have that lol.

[lost-oasis]

A/N: Phew. This one is going out to my beloved Nero babes: @milkandstarlight, @unluckywisher, and @inkblotgalaxies. I hope you ladies enjoy this. 🖤

Full disclosure this is canon-divergent Nero to the fucking T, as I'm writing Nero as a double agent, with a nice ass place and a small pool in his bathroom all courtesy to Emi's (my darling moondrop) beautiful mind; she basically cowrote this honestly; whispering in my ear. So, fuck it we ball. Anyways! I hope you all enjoy a dip of this menace of a canon-divergent Nero that has infiltrated my goddamn mind.

Posted on AO3: You Are My Antidote

"Oh come on! It's been a while since we got to go out and you guys did amazing with the mission! It calls for a celebration!" Tara whined, tugging on the sleeves of your hunter outfit, her eyes gleaming excitement and it almost broke your heart that you had to decline. 

Your mental capacity said no and for once, you have to oblige.

"Tara, I adore you, really... but I just want to get these reports done and head back home," you said, hope filled in your eyes, even if you already knew she would understand. 

She sighed, planting her hands on your shoulders before nodding her head, "alright, fine."

She gave you a brief hug and you returned the energy one hundred percent before waving to her and the others as they filed out of the office. 

A relieved sigh emitted through your lips as you plopped down onto your chair and began working on the reports.

-

Unbeknownst to you, Nero was still in the building, and he had been hit with the aphrodisiac protocore. Of course, this shouldn't be any surprise, considering the first area the protocores were brought into was the data analytics team.

He had also rejected the invitation to join the team in their celebration for a successful raid. Then again, it wasn't really his cup of tea to begin with, and unlike with you, the team didn't bother to push him to join them.

'If he wanted to, he would' was their resolve.

He knew that he had been hit by the aphrodisiac, but he figured that it wasn't so bad considering that the effects were little to none, and he was doing just fine.

Until his space began to heat up, his heartrate gradually increased as he tapped his fingers against his keyboard, causing him to lean back and undo his tie from around the collar of his uniform, the buttons of his shirt next. Yet, it still wasn't enough, and he began growing frustrated, forgetting that he actually wasn't alone in the office.

-

Having completed a decent amount of work, you decide to take a break and stretch your limbs. You walked around the office and stopped near the data analytics side when you heard noises. As you got closer to the area, you began making out the noises you were hearing.

Heavy breathing, frustrated groans, and at some point a slam of a fist against a desk, whilst the sound of papers fluttered about soon following after.

You peek around the corner and you find the source of the sound. Nero. You didn't think anyone else would be in the building and it's more surprising than not when you see Nero, but having thought he had left once Captain Jenna and Andrew announced the mission complete.

"Nero?" You called out loud enough for him to hear, not wanting to startle him as you advanced to his desk. 

The male had his head down, his breathing becoming heavier and more prominent as you stepped closer before a hand raised up to stop your movement. 

"Stay- Stay right there," and it almost took you back to the first time you met him, only this time his voice was gravely, hinted with a struggle to keep it steady, "you should go." 

His words were anything but a gentle suggestion, but more riddled with a warning. As if you were stepping into territory that would have you regretting it the moment you think about trying to back away from it. Yet, there was this pull to Nero that you couldn't ignore. 

Curiosity peeked its little head like a devil on your shoulder, encouraging you to feed into the curiosity that traced in your mind.

You stepped forward, but you're not sure if it was you or your mind suddenly making the advances; you couldn't stop yourself from doing so either. So, you disregard his warning, you move closer until you're next to him, a hand gently landing on his shoulder, easing him into a sitting position and that's when you see his visage. 

He is flushed from his face down his chest, a couple more buttons having been undone from his uniform, his tie haphazardly clinging to the edge of his desk, his glasses set to the side and as your gaze drifted down, you see the intricate freckles decorating his décolletage like constellations, you forget where you are as you reach out to brush your fingers along them.

His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingers on his burning skin, his chest heaving up and down as he attempted to steady his breathing, causing him to grab onto your wrist, his slender digits curling around it as he looked up at you. 

"I said you should leave, didn't I?" His words were beginning to slur, your eyes widening as you attempted to pull your hand away. 

"Nero, you don't look so good, wait here... I'll get you some water—" 

Your words were cut off the moment Nero tugged and had you nearly falling onto him against the chair. Thankful for your quick reflexes, you stopped yourself from doing so, but there was a hint of a smirk that briefly appeared on his lips before it disappeared. 

"I just need to go home," he spoke heavily, eventually letting go of your wrist. 

You nod your head, as if the two of you were silently communicating on what to do next. Having chosen to bring him back to his place since the distance was much closer than yours, after grabbing his glasses and placing them back onto his face, you help him out of his chair then wrapped his arm around your neck whilst your arm snaked around his waist. 

You guided him to the elevator and he reached out to hit the down button, ushering the both of you into the lift once it arrived. 

The ride down felt like ages, Nero groaning near your ear didn't help either as your cheeks flushed from not only the close proximity, but the fanning of his breath against your skin. He seemed to be resting, leaning his body against yours in almost a slumping manner before his head lifted. 

With a hand resting behind your head, he shifted to move in front of you, capturing your chin as he tilted your head up. Your eyes lock with one another, and for a moment panic rose in your chest when realizing what might be happening and the fact you're still in the Association building, but before you could even protest, you feel his warm lips against yours and for just a brief moment, you allow it to happen, melting into the kiss until your senses came back, pushing him away and breaking the kiss.

He stumbled back and you reached out to steady him. 

"We can't do that here, Nero..." You said, an obvious disappointment tone in your words as you pointed to where the cameras were. 

Nero's gaze lifted to where you were pointing as he grunted, "right, yeah, sorry... that was out of line of me." 

Yet, when you heard those words, he didn't sound apologetic at all. 

Once the lift reached the ground floor, you flagged a cab and entered it along with Nero. He gave his address to the driver as he faced the window, planting his forehead against the cool surface. Every once and awhile, his hand would find your arm to squeeze it as if a method to keep himself grounded throughout the duration of the ride.

You thank the driver, handing him the money as you helped Nero out of the cab and into his place. It wasn't easy and due to ensuring that you get him into his home as best as you can, the spaciousness of the vicinity completely goes over your head as you settled Nero unceremoniously onto his sofa. 

Whatever he was trying to say was muffled against the sofa as his back lifted then eased down in a deep huff. You shook your head and laughed in amusement.

"Stay here, I'll see if I can find anything to help," you ordered and didn't bother to let him answer back as you moved to locate his bathroom not too far away from him.

-

Nero's home was dined in vaporwave aesthetics, from neon lights and bits of pieces of artwork curated with designs of the old internet days and images. Hell, he even had a small pool in his bathroom decorated with more neon lights, it was completely different to what you had thought of a data analytics employee to even have, what with the wages the Hunters had, this all appeared way out of budget. And yet, the place was soothing nonetheless. It matched him perfectly, you concluded as you thought back to him then shook your head. 

Right, focus. 

You head to the medicine cabinet, digits hovering over the many pill bottles, but found nothing that you thought would remedy his current predicament. Perhaps some pain killers to bring down his obvious fever? Wait. Was he in pain? You cursed under your breath for not bothering to look through the files of possible antidotes you could make to counter the symptoms.

With a defeated sight easing from your lips, you close your eyes and look down before closing the medicine cabinet. When you lifted your head, you saw the silhouette of someone standing by the door. 

You didn't hear Nero stir from the sofa, or you were too focused trying to find something to help, regardless his sudden appearance caught you by surprise. 

"Are you feeling better, Nero?" 

You asked and your body naturally stepped back only to be met by the edge of the sink as you saw Nero advancing toward you, his uniform completely undone, his chiseled chest gleaming under the neon lights, sweat dripping down the expanse of it as his hands reach out gripping tightly onto your hips. 

"Why are you still here?" He questioned, his breath much more labored, his eyes dilated as he squeezed your hips in a bruising force, "you should've left." He spoke as he leaned forward, cupping your chin and keeping your head in place. "Whatever, you're mine now." 

Before you could even say anything back, his lips are on yours in a searing kiss, much more than the last one he initiated in the elevator. This time, however, you don't stop him and you find yourself melting into the kiss, your eyes fluttering shut with your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers carding through his hair as Nero pressed his hips against yours, a growl emitting as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

Your tongues danced sloppily, the heat rising in the bathroom causing the mirror to fog up slight before he broke the kiss. Saliva connected your lips and his before it's severed when he spun you around, grabbing onto your hands and guiding them to plant against the mirror. His erection now pressed against your ass as his hands glided back down to your hips with another firm squeeze. You can tell he was trying to hold back from completely devouring you, but the aphrodisiac and simply your presence doesn't help his case. 

His mouth trailed kisses along the base of your neck, up to your ear, a nip against the shell as his breath fanned against your ear. 

"Fuck, you're driving me insane," he groaned, his voice heavy with desire as he's grinding his hips nearly desperately against yours, his hands gliding down to the hem of your dress, gathering it around your waist as his fingers dipped briefly into the waist band of your panties, tugging at them almost teasingly. "I need you."

He can feel your body shivering by his touches and words, a smirk on his lips as he gazed at you through the mirror, and you see a glare in his glasses before he's taking them off, discarded somewhere on the counter or not, he didn't care where they ended up. He rolled his hips, a groan emitting once more as he lifted a hand to tug the straps of your dress down your shoulder, kissing the exposed skin there before his other hand slid down between your legs, dipping into your panties and rubbing his fingers between your wet folds. 

"Damn. You're soaking wet..." He chuckled with amusement laced with mischief in his eyes whilst gathering your slick as he circled his digits around your sensitive nub, "I guess you weren't spared from the effects of the aphrodisiac either, huh?"

"Sh-Shut up..." You quipped weakly, albeit your legs parting to give him more room and shaking briefly clearly proved him right. Your hand gripping onto the edges of the sink as if holding onto any sort of semblance of sanity you had left. 

Clearly, you were on the verge of absolutely having none.

He continued his ministrations as his other hand drummed fingers down your arm to your thigh, gripping at the flesh there before hiking your knee up the edge of the sink, making you open up to him more. The feeling of his fingers teasing at your entrance had your head spinning, tilting it back to rest against his shoulder as he removed his hand from your thigh, it roamed along your stomach and up to your chest until it met your chin, guiding your head back to face forward. 

"Not the Nero you're used to, huh?" He teased, his tongue gliding along the outer shell of your ear, his gaze meeting yours and holding it there, "keep your eyes on you in the mirror, I want you to see just how pretty you look like this, weak and trembling just for me." 

And it was true, this Nero was nothing like the anxiety-ridden, awkward, and quiet Nero. A man who only spoke when needed and kept a distance from everyone else.

No, this Nero was dripping with desire, the primal urge to claim you in this very room too strong for him to hold back any longer. His cover be damned, he needed you and quite frankly, you needed him.

"Nero, please ." A whine escaped the moment he pulled his fingers away. 

The fact he hadn't even inserted his fingers had you craving for a feeling didn't get to experience yet.

"Patience, pretty girl. We're just getting started." 

You bite back your tongue, wanting to retort but one minute he was standing tall behind you and the next, he's on his knees, tugging your panties to the side as he played with your cunt, spreading your folds teasingly before he was dipping his tongue to lick a fat stripe in between them and he growled at the far too pleasing taste of you.

"Fuck, you're delicious," he commented, delving his tongue back in as he flicked it against your sensitive nub. 

His forefinger remained hooked into your panties, keeping them pushed to the side as his tongue licked along your soaking wet cunt, the noises he was making in between his moans was anything but decent, like a famished animal finally getting a taste of a meal they had been dying to feast upon and a damn good one at that.

Moans spilled from your swollen-kissed lips, your eyes gazing into the mirror, looking at how flushed you looked, your appearance anything but decent as your legs shook. Your body glistened with sweat as your walls clenched greedily around his tongue and you found yourself nearing the edge the moment he made fast movements with his tongue against your sensitive nub. He inserted two of his digits into your cunt, curling and scissoring, gradually driving you further to the edge.

"N-Nero, wait—I'm gonna—" 

Nero eased his head back, but his fingers continued when heard this, making him cut you off as he gazed up at you through the mirror. "So? Let go for me," he spoke softly, a bit of a contrast to the merciless ministrations he was doing as he brought his face back to your cut, continuing to eat you out.

It didn't take long for you to tip over the edge, embarrassingly so, but Nero loved it all. He licked and sucked as you came on his tongue and he lapped it all up. He let go of your panties with a little snap to them, causing you to jump slightly and glare at him. 

He laughed, easing your knee down as he turned your around to face him once more, but what he didn't expect was for you to crash your lips against his the moment your eyes caught sight of your come dripping from the side of his mouth, your tongue pushing greedily into his mouth, wanting to taste yourself on him.

He swallowed up your moans, pulling the two of you away from the counter and never breaking the kiss as he undid your dress and you tugged the rest of his clothing off his body. He walked you back to the small pool whilst tugging at the waist line of your panties, pulling them down and your walk momentarily became clumsy but you manage to step out of your panties, leaving the two of you completely naked.

-

The water in the pool undulated from the movement once you mounted him, his hand on your hips guiding you until you were filled to the brim by his cock. The clench of your walls had him pulsing inside of you and his grip on your hips tightened once more; you were more than sure bruises would form from how hard he held them and you didn't mind that at all, and he should be apologetic. Something in his mind told him to be, whilst the other part of his mind reminded him this was the only way for him to stop himself from fucking up into you.

Once you adjusted to him, the glide along his cock had practically soaring; your hips moved up and down in a steady motion, repeating it as you rolled your hips, riding him slowly at first and watching his facial expression turn into a pleasured one. With his eyes half-lidded and his bottom lip worrying between his teeth, he watched your the way your body worked its way against him. It was mesmerizing as your hands rested on his shoulder, giving you some leverage whilst you picked up the pace.

With each movement, he found himself getting closer to the edge, his hands landing down on your thighs and squeezing, guiding your hips and pulling you closer to him. Your knees planted on the ledge on either side of his hips before his control snapped and he held you in place, thrusting up into you with precise and deep strokes that hit that sweet spot, making you throw your head back as louder moans soon spilled from your lips.

"Nero..." A whine emitted when you tried to move your hips to meet with his, only for him to hold you more firmly against him.

He chortled, grabbing your chin and drawing you in for a kiss, whispering against your lips whilst never letting up on his thrusts and keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"Shh. You've been working since early morning, right? That mission wasn't easy either," he spoke softly, peppering kisses along the side of your face, down to your neck and nipping at the skin. He took a portion of it, tugging on it before he began littering starless galaxies on your skin, the thought of consequences non-existent in this shared moment.

"Just let me take care of you," he whispered against your sensitve skin.

He grunted as he drove deeper and harder into you, the water crashing against the sides of the pool, "fuck you feel so good." He removed one hand from your hip, splaying it out on your middle back before it drifted upwards and buried itself into your hair, grabbing a handful of it as he tugged your head back to expose your neck better for him. 

He delved his head and dragged his tongue from the base of your neck, up to the underside of your jaw as he nipped at it, a guttural growl rumbling in his chest, "I know what the antidote is." He claimed, easing his head back as he admired the work he made on your marked skin. 

Your breath is heavy, fingernails digging into his shoulders, dragging down angry red marks that encouraged him to fuck you harder; you leaned in, capturing his lips in a desperate and sloppy passion, eyes glazed over as you panted against his lips, "what- what's the antidote?" You gasped out, asking him in between your moans.

Nero let go of your hair, turning your head so that you eyes locked with one another; in his, there is desire and something much, much more.

"It's not meant for everyone, in fact, I won't let them have it. But for me? It is you ."

[phpruitts]

'Want me to show you, baby?'

She nods desperately. Please.

Phoebe cannot, not for all the money in the world, tear her eyes away from Rafael. Something in his gaze held her there— something in his voice too, all warm and commanding and focused utterly on Phoebe.

It makes her shiver. It makes heat in her core bloom and tighten and then spread through every inch of her body, and then—

'Just like this,'

Bliss, when he adds another finger. Fuck, that was it, that was what she needed, to feel anything of his she could get, hand or cock or mouth, to feel filled and stretched and cared for.

No man had ever done it like this. There had never been a single one that could leave her so enraptured, and when Rafael begins to curl his fingers inside of her, an almost beckoning motion, Phoebe whines again, stares at his face with heavy-lidded, blow-out eyes. How did he do this? Sound so deliciously hungry, and raw, and aroused all at once, and yet still make her feel so ... cared for.

It almost makes Phoebe tear up. There's a prickling heat behind her eyes now. Something hot, building up in her abdomen.

But she doesn't slow her strokes; instead she tightens her fist minutely, twist her wrist as it rises and falls and lets her thumb brush over the head every so often, remembering the repressed shiver the motion had drawn earlier. Could Phoebe ever hope to give Rafael even a tenth of the bliss he gave her? Phoebe can't say. But she would give everything, anything, in that pursuit.

Because there's nothing better than this. Nothing hotter than this. Rafael talking to her, calling her baby as he instructs her on how to get herself off when he was gone— how to just think of him, and to think of this moment. The tightening in her abdomen is almost overwhelming.

"I always think about you," Phoebe pants.

Every muscle of hers sings. There was the curl of his fingers, the broad pressure of his palm at her sex, his voice in her ear, and this shimmering tension between them, affection, clearly, open affection that seemed so raw and earnest and god— Phoebe has to kiss him again.

"—I can never stop thinking of you during any of it."

Even after she'd finished, wrung out an orgasm that was a pale shadow of what Rafael brought out in her, Phoebe thought about Raf. Thought about wanting, so very fucking badly, just to lay her head on his chest and pant until their breathing slowed, play with his hair and lull him to sleep so he didn't have to think about all the responsibilities that he carried.

But he was here now. And so were his fingers, except they were slowing, tortuously slow, and hearing his next words make something desperate and hungry and excited tremble within her.

'But don’t come yet,'

'I want you to finish on my cock.'

She moans, wantonly, rocks her hips up against his hand, where his hips lay beyond that.

"Please," Phoebe pants, voice raw and open and a little trembling. It might have scared Phoebe, with anyone else, to hear such open need in her voice, but with Rafael, around him ... it just felt right. He needed to hear this. Shouldn't Rafael know, what he does to her?

"Please. I need to finish like that, need to feel you finish, just need to feel— you. Need you."

This is what heaven felt like. Rafael was sure of it. When Phoebe stroked him faster, when she moved against his hand — he didn’t think there was anything out there that felt better than this.

When Phoebe admitted that she thought about him in bed, tried to replicate what he did to her with his fingers, but she couldn’t —

Rafael groaned. It was so hot. So sexy to think about Phoebe trying to get off to the thought of him. And Rafael being the only one who could do it for her — no one else. The connection between the two of them felt like something that only happened in the movies. Something unrealistic and unattainable, and yet, it was happening to them.

“Want me to show you, baby?”

He bit the inside of his cheek when Phoebe’s thumb brushed over the head of his cock. It sent shivers down his spine. God, it felt so good.

“Just like this,” he said, slipping another finger inside of her. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her, curling the tips of his fingers when he was inside. He applied pressure with the palm of his hand.

“And then, when your fingers are nice and wet, you can use them to rub your clit like this.”

Rafael pulled his fingers out of her, brushed them up against her clit. Rafael applied more pressure this time, his fingers slick and desperate to provide her with pleasure.

“Then you just think about me. You think about right now, and the way I showed you, and you keep going until you make yourself come.”

Rafael’s heart was racing. His cock was aching. He wanted to be inside of her more than anything else. He stopped the movements of his hand briefly, moving at an agonizingly slow pace this time.

“But don’t come yet,” he said. “I want you to finish on my cock.”

[littlebittyhollowbugs]

They drive me insaaaaaaane !!!!!!!!!!!!

[juliareed]

You still cling to naive ideals. I learned, at a very young age, the only currency worth anything in this world is power.

[zaritarazi]

hanne (trying to recall a fun childhood story): did you tell them about the zipline

matthias: i did tell them about the zipline

jesper: he told us about the zipline

hanne: then why do you all look so upset

wylan: sorry, to clarify, are you referencing the zipline designed to kill children?

hanne and matthias at the same time, still not sure why people don't think that the zipline story is funny: yes

nina, walking back into the room after getting a glass of water: why does everyone suddenly look so concerned did matthias bring up his childhood summer camp's illegal fucking zipline again

[blujayonthewing]

fighting for my life to Be Cool About It playing felix as a dnd character who has only known the party for one(1) egregiously shitty week rather than get carried away with romance subplots I'm inventing in my own head, as if simon getting Enthusiastic and visibly excited while talking a lot doesn't instinctively trigger, in felix, the exact same profound heart eyes reflex that justin doing so does for me in real life

[xceanlynx]

y'all I went on twitter for the first time in three days and people are trying to cancel First? bffr

[ostwitchsheart]

Sorry to start complaining but its my tumblr