#I debated sculpting him in that fit but have no idea how to do the puffy pants ahfkajgkkakfka

[flufflecat]

half of his bodyweight is gonna be hair alone

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Rock Lee - Abs Riding

a/n: this was so fun and different for me! I've never done anything with this kink before and I'm delighted to have it in my roister now. 18+ only. Est relationship, abs riding ofc.

Kinktober Masterlist

“You want to do what?” Rock Lee’s face was beet red.

“Don’t be like that.” Arms folded, you giggled as Lee shrunk away from two girls walking by, as though they would hear what you had said three seconds ago. “Lee, c’mon, it’s not like we haven’t done kinkier things.”

“Those were very different …” Lee’s face recovered to more of a maroon. How exactly they were different was beyond you; Lee had insisted on taking you in every position, every manageable way two bodies could fit together, and yet this was too much? His gentility, at times befuddled you. “This — this is a public place. Why would you want to do this? It does not sound exactly … pleasurable.”

“Don’t be silly,” You said. “Lots of girls are doing it with their guys now! Ino told me she and Sai —“

“Why am I not surprised Ino had something to do with this?” Lee’s eyes flickered past to the shogi doors to the training hall. “Lotus flower, this is …” He trailed, glancing again at the shadows manifested from the inside of the room. “Uncalled for.”

“It’ll be after hours, Lee. No one will see.” You ran an adoring finger over Lee’s bicep. “After all, aren’t you just a wee bit curious?”

“I …” The blush had returned to Lee’s face. “Well, I suppose you could say that.” A hint of a smile. “I had no idea you had such an appreciation for my physique …”

“Are you kidding?” You chuckled. “You’re a god, Lee …”

Not just empty praise; your boyfriend’s body was the envy of many. Muscles sculpted from years of training, a physique honed by discipline built on a foundation of hours, days, years.

Lee’s gaze fell to the hall’s floor. “Do you truly think that?”

“I do,” You said, coming closer, arriving somewhat level with Lee’s lips. “And I’m sure I could get off just that alone. So how about it?”

Conflict arose on Lee’s face, his eyes darting as he debated whether or not to give in to your desires. 

“Don’t tell me Rock Lee is backing down from a challenge.”

Then:

“Al — all right …” 

“That’s my handsome devil.” You smiled, satisfied you’d won. 

But not satisfied enough.

And so when the training center went dark and Lee’s explanation for your continued attendance was overtime training, Might Guy’s smile could’ve made up for the lack of light, and he left the two of you to your devices. 

“Don’t just look at me!” You told Lee, mirroring the actions you wanted him to undertake; unzipping your jacket until the swell of your breasts broke free. “Get undressed …!”

“Ah, fuck, Lee …”

Lee kept a trembling hold of your hips, eyes squeezed tight as you rocked your cunt against his abs. 

“You feel so fucking good …” Your fingers crept up to Lee’s nipples and brushed over the hard pebbles. 

Lee flushed under the enormity of your praise — something you had only a second to appreciate before your clit grazed over a ridge in Lee’s abs.

“Ah …” You bowed your head, eyes fluttering shut. You pinched both his nipples in between your fingers, gasped when Lee bucked up into you in response. You knew without knowing that if you scooted backwards even an inch your ass would be met with a tent in Lee’s training shorts, a fact that only sent you rocking harder against his chest to the soundtrack of his shallow breathing. He’s so gorgeous.

“Are you sure I — hah —  we should be doing this — hah —  in the training room?” he said. “I’m sure I could — hah — bring you much more satisfaction if we were allowed —“

As if on cue you pressed a hand against the training mat to regain your balance. “It’s okay, Lee.” The emptiness of the training room itself amplified every sound Lee fed you, every whimper and moan and sigh, setting all of them to a fine echo. He might have been worried about Guy walking in on you two, but you knew as much as he did that if he was going to remove you from him he would’ve done it already. 

Lee’s eyes were focused underneath you, cognizant of the slick moistening his abs. With a swipe over his lower lip, he pressed you down on him and began to rock you against his abs.

You sucked a breath in, your hands flying to his wrists. “Lee —“ It felt so good. He felt so good. Everything about Lee was strong, steady, hard. The bumps of his abs brushed and grated heavenly against your labia, your clit receiving most of the exquisite friction. 

“No need to be so timid,” Lee murmured, eyes half lidded in watching you thrash against him.

Said thrashing only added to your pleasure. One hand abandoned Lee’s wrist to fondle your breast. He unceremoniously rocked into your cunt and white spots erupted in your mind’s eye. 

You fell forward, your hands on his shoulders in hopes of steadying you. “Lee, fuckfuckfuck —“ 

“You’re so beautiful,” Lee said. He swept some of your juices with his finger and smeared it over your neglected tit, teasing the nipple. “So …”

“Mm — Fuck, fuck, Lee …” Another moan slipped from your lips when Lee leaned forward and caught your nipple in his mouth, surely tasting you on the wrinkled skin. 

A rhythm was set; Your cunt chased Lee’s abs, and he would meet you in the middle to complete the teasing. Arms secured around his strong neck, you bucked into him. Lee’s hand came to cup the moon of one of your ass cheeks and scoot you up higher.

“Aha!” You bit your lip at the feel of his rugged happy trail, the razor feel of Lee’s hair amplifying the friction.

“This would be — hah — quite the motivator for me,” Lee said, observing what must have been a myriad of expressions skating over your face. He swerved his hips underneath you just so and was rewarded with a whimper. “To see you cum fro — from only this. Not to mention — ah — a healthy dose for my ego …”

“Lee!” You were bouncing now, chasing your high. All the while hyperaware of the emptiness inside you, and how just inches away Lee’s clothed erection waited, occasionally poking at your spine, begging to be brought forth and fucking buried inside you. The blue balls he must have — a thought that only brought you closer —

With a firm hold on your ass, Lee helped to rock you, the endless slide of his abs under your clit more than you could bear.

“Are you going to —?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh — oh.” Lee’s moan was nestled in a shudder. You became aware of his other hand, the repetitive up-down motion of his forearm. You glanced behind you to see his cock, sitting at the crook of your ass, being stroked frantically in his fist. All the while you’d had no idea of what he was doing; at some point the sight of your writhing above him had become too much to bear and he’d freed himself to beat off.

The sight — the knowledge — went straight to your clit at the precise moment, and with three more shifts of your hips against Lee’s abs you were over the edge, cumming over his abdomen, leaving a mess of slick and juice. Behind you, Lee’s white spent was pumping from his cock, painting the clefts of your ass while his cock twitching against the plump skin there. 

Your jerks above him became sporadic, quick, mere juts as you chased the end of your orgasm to the sound of Lee’s repetitive exclamations of your name. The end of your orgasm and beyond, until the pleasure concentrated in your clit became akin to pain. 

And yet you still needed Lee’s strong arms to assist in stilling your hips, forcing you to catch your breath. He had clearly come to sooner than you had. You blinked heavy-lidded eyes down at Lee’s. He was looking up at you with adoration, a smile presumably inspired by the absurdity of it all. 

“So,” he said, voice adorably labored, “did this go as desired? I believe this was quite successful …”

I love him, I love him, I love him. You bent down to kiss Lee, the lip-to-lip contact sufficing for as much of an answer as you could deliver for a good while. After a moment, you drew back to smile at him. 

“How could it not?” You asked, brushing your nose against his. “My boyfriend always gives one-hundred ten percent.”

[everydaydollydomes]

Making Narinder

Since Narinder has gotten lots of attention, I thought I'd share in a little more detail what specific parts from AelithArt's wide catalog he's made from, cause he's a little mix and match + a custom, remixed head.

Head: The head is a remix of one of Aelith's DIY pieces, made by FrozenOverStudio. She hasn't posted it on Etsy or Cults yet, but the STL file IS available for purchase and you can reach out to her at frozenoverstudiosorders@gmail.com if you'd like to purchase it. It comes with eyes chips. You can also reach out to her on instagram at @ frozenoverstudiosllc

Chest/Paws/Feet/Lower Torso: Wolfy

Thighs/Knees/Shins/Shoulders/Elbows: Original Kabbit

Forearms: You only need the one piece from this, unfortunately, if you want the bony look on his forearms, but it's the Zombie. This piece is a little tricky to use because 1. the bone forearm is only on one side, so you have to mirror it before printing, and 2. it's so freaking narrow! It's really hard to get the knot of your string through the channel. I eventually gave up, made my string a little shorter, and set it in such a way that the knot is actually still chilling near his wrist.

Tail: Additional Head and Ears set, which is also great if you wanna make a yellow cat~

I printed him on an Elegoo Saturn 2 in grey (cause black was being stupid and wouldn't cure)

A lot of the below comes in bulk - I tend to print multiple dolls to bring to conventions but just keep it in mind for yourself; at the very least it'll give you an idea of size.

The magnets in his head are 8x2mm magnets (no link but you can generally find these pretty easily online and in craft stores)

Magnets for tail and the back of his lower torso are 5x2mm (not sure why this was smaller? But my other magnets didn't fit. If I'd noticed BEFORE painting, I could have dremelled it...wasn't willing to do it by that point.)

2mm elastic string

S-hook in neck

S-hook in wrists and ankles - It turned out these were a SMIDGE small for the ankles so I needed to use a set of pliers to widen them a little. So far, they're holding fine.

Altogether, this does seem like quite the investment, but I got a lot of these sets either over a period of time or after I joined Aelith's patreon. For $10 a month, he releases new parts or ful dolls that are available to you. He also does months where you can pick a sculpt so if there's a sculpt you want but it was released before you became a member, you can request it.

I hope that covers about everything? I'm not really aiming for like, a full tutorial, but I at least wanted to share everything that went into putting him together.

I can't wait to get his robes.

A lot less pieces will go into Lambert, they'll be a modded Sheepy head on the base Kabbit. Debating if I want the crown to be just...attached to their head, though. Like built into it. If it's a separate piece, I'm not sure how I'd keep it on their head.

[covecornerarchive]

Modern AU Ideas!

Been seeing some people post about their modern au's and I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring. Also like 85% of the inspo for these came from @thedivisionbell1994 's own modern au so credit to them.

Janice and Melrose are adopted by Poppy, who is their god father in the au, when their actual dad wasn't found fit to care for them after their mother died. They don't change that much other than the fact Melrose while in an actually loving household genuinely becomes a better sister and the two are genuinely happy. Janice is chaos incarnate and the both of them cause crimes.

Percy and Poppy are roomates! Because the whole Red Mary thing didn't happen (in the way it did in canon) Percy is much more like his rowdy "fuck around and find out" Tarantula crew self than the one we know him as on the Laughingstock crew. He actually works in ceramics and sculpting and runs a small business on etsy. This part belongs to @thedivisionbell1994 but Poppy is the bouncer for a few night clubs in the area.

Milo....he's a fucking streamer is twitch. But like, he doesn't make shit so he's always mooching off of Poppy, Percy, and Sariah. Sariah is a dance instructor and while she and Milo are together in the au as well it's kind of a shit relationship so eventually she leaves him and ends up with Susen, who works at the local aquarium. I'm debating whether or not she's a marine biologist or a performer for one of those cool mermaid shows. Maybe she's both :0

Thade. Oh boy howdy do I think about Thade the most in this au. I think he's the professor at a mortuary school, teaching mortuary science (why? because if I don't have him as an extremely burnt out yet chill college prof I'm going to die). After a lot of drama and hardships involving his relative Mary, he's ended up as Auburn's legal caretaker and raises her with Lillian and Percy's help (Percy: If I had a nickle for everytime someone important in my life got custody of a kid and I ended up as their older brother figure, I'd have three nickles. Which isn't a lot but it's weird it's happened three times right?)

Also, I don't know if I want this as a concrete part of this modern au or keep it as a spin off of it, but I have this idea where after bringing in a certain set of skeleton remains for a lesson in his class Thade gets cursed to turn into a skeleton every now and then. Basically because I also want Skin-taker in here somewhere but I don't want him to be evil. I just like imagining Thade getting stuck in situations where he has to figure out how to get through life without people finding out he's secretly a fucking were-skeleton, and him slipping up a few times so there are just sightings in the small town where all of this takes place of some scary ass skeleton and people start calling him "The Skin-taker," and it becomes a moth man situation where the town starts monetizing it for the tourism business and then Thade is just over here trying to keep his job and raise a kid like "hhhhhhhhhh." Idk, I like it I might develop it later.

Im stealing all of this from @enkiiper but Horace? Horace is a fucking cryptid all on his own. No one knows where he came from, what he does for a living, none of that. He's just this really weird ecentric guy who doesn't do anything that makes sense ever and for some reason has a worryingly large amount of money. He and Thade are besties and in the were-skeleton au Horace is the first to find out. He's a crime grandpa. He commits crimes and is the local cryptid. End of discussion.

Stealing from @thedivisionbell1994 again but Lillian is a real estate agent who sells haunted houses and properties with extremely sketchy history and she fucking kills at it.

Red Mary is still a dangerous fellon with several arson and homicide charges. She and Thade have a fucked history (gotta put the trauma in there somewhere) and is the reason Auburn was orphaned in the first place. She's in prison still but Thade is always paranoid about her and worrying over her getting out and hurting the people in his life again.

Thade and Poppy are actually on rather good terms. They still have the occasional moments but it's nowhere near as bad as in canon. Thade is definitely Janice and Melrose's weird uncle and whenever Janice is over she gives him hell, which is often since she and Auburn are besties.

Calvary and Sea Dog (which is just his nickname since Sea Dog isn't actually a dog in this au just a scruffy little man) are family friends and Nathan is their adopted kid. He Janice Melrose and Auburn cause chaos together it's great. Sea Dog works as a deck officer and so did Calvary before an injury that caused him to retire. Nathan is Calvary's grandson and after Nathan lost his parent's Cal took him in.

I feel like the Rubber Fishes are a local gang but like...they're not really a threat. They're just these chaotic teens who spray paint private property and fuck around in abandoned buildings. Kurt has fucking cat ear headphones I bet. Horace is their unofficial dad. They're all fucked up kids but they're his fucked up kids. He gives them rides when they're running from the police.

I feel like the small town this all takes place in isn't Ironton, Ohio (where Janice and Mel are originally from) but probably a sea side town.

(April 24, 2022)

[peachsayshi]

❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜ n tattoo artist!choso pleaseeee❤️‍🩹

A/N: <requests are currently closed> thank you so much for sending this over! Since this is a part of my Tattoo Artist!Choso AU - I'm adding little snippets of the story to these prompt requests! I hope you enjoy this ~ I'm sorry it's kind of angsty but I've just been in the mood for some good tension hehe (also, I'm debating whether or not I want to make Toji or Sukuna the ex-boyfriend in this scenario hehe)

TAGS: angst; choso comforts the reader from a break-up; reader has a crush on Choso

“Bad night?” 

You froze in place, your hands clutching around the tiny string of your purse and you parted your lips in surprise when you met Choso's dark eyes. 

“Oh…you’re home…” you murmured, swiping away a rogue tear that tracked down your cheek. “I thought you would be at work by now…”  

“It’s the weekend, the parlor’s closed.” 

You huffed, forcing a laugh as you nervously rubbed the side of your neck.

“Oh, that’s right…” 

The heat rushed to your cheeks feeling your roommate's gaze take in the sight of you in your body sculpting dress. The pink outfit left little to the imagination with the a-line skirt landing just above your upper thigh, and the fitted straps accenting the bustier detail from the scoop neck that showed off your cleavage. Your hair was a little unkempt, your face worn from the exhausting night of arguing you had with your now ex-boyfriend. 

Choso tucked both his hands inside his charcoal hoodie as he cautiously approached you. With each step you could feel the tension pulling at the front of your chest, and you nervously shifted your weight from one foot to the next. There was a lump lodged in your throat, prohibiting you from confessing to him that he was right all along.  

He warned you that going for a man who was older...who had a reputation of cycling through women…was a bad idea. 

You, however, didn’t listen. 

You often wondered what made Choso so different from everybody else. The two of you have been living together for close to a year now, and unlike most men, he never tried to make a move on you. 

At first you figured he wasn’t attracted to you, but over time you realized that it wasn’t the case. You picked up on the way his cheeks would blush red whenever you flirted with him, noticed the way his attention would linger just a little too long whenever you wore a revealing outfit and realized that he almost always excused himself if you were touchy with him. 

You weren’t sure when your little crush found its roots in your heart , when you started noticing just how striking his obsidian hair looked reflecting against the light or the intricate details of the ink that covered his arms. You couldn’t understand why whenever he flashed you his adorable smile, you had a desperate desire to smother him in kisses in return. You couldn’t explain the butterflies in your stomach whenever he fell asleep on your shoulder while you both watched t.v. late at night, finding yourself snuggling into him and staring at his peaceful expression with intrigue.

Physically he was beautiful, but you knew you were falling for a lot more than his good looks. 

He was overwhelmingly sweet, unquestionably caring and had a sense of humor that very few people even knew existed. Despite his overall quiet persona, you found yourself lucky enough to be on the receiving end of his lively conversations.

You’ve grown close living together - close enough for him to confess to you one night all of his concerns about your ex. 

“Why do you care?!” you spat, unaware of your sudden annoyance and immediately wishing you hadn’t been so harsh when you watched Choso slump his shoulders in defeat. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay…” he reiterated. 

He never brought it up again after that night, and you resented creating a wedge in your blooming friendship over a man who wasn’t even worth it. 

You didn’t realize how close Choso was until you felt the tips of his fingers brush under your chin, tilting your head up slightly so you could meet his stare. You swallowed hard at his disheartened expression, watching his brows pinch together in slight frustration when he exhaled softly. 

“You want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head no, knowing full well that your vulnerability had reached its limit and you were grateful when he nodded his head in agreement. 

“C’mere…” he murmured, sliding one arm around your waist as he tugged you into his frame. 

Tiny gasps escaped you as he pressed his chest against yours, his hand giving you a light squeeze around your waist when you cried on his shoulder and you felt the goosebumps raise across your skin as his lips brushed along your temple. 

“I hate seeing you like this…” he breathed, “You deserve better, you know?” 

I wish I deserved you, you thought to yourself - your hands clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie as relaxed into his warm embrace.

TAG: @damn-geto @pensivespecter @ekaterinatepes @jelly-jellx @lollipopd @shuxjodie @mikasackrmann @alreadyblondenow @nanamikentcs @aizumie @mrsmorgenstern @artemisthestar @velvetlight333 @sluttoru @bisexualwomanofcolour @bloombb

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: July

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: June

-----

July 2020

Chris was stressed.

It was understandable as he'd just launched his new endeavour - A Starting Point - but it was worrying me how anxious and overwhelmed he seemed to be. The feedback so far had been good, but he was still concerned about how it was going to be received and whether or not people would actually find it useful. He had several long, full days of interviews scheduled to promote it and explain what they hoped to achieve and, after the first week, he was exhausted which made him moody and withdrawn.

It didn't help that Grayson had quickly adjusted to having our undivided attention and was growing increasingly frustrated with his dad's busy schedule. The Friday after the launch, Chris promised him that he'd be done by bedtime so he could tuck him in, but technical difficulties got in the way and he was once again stuck in front of his laptop until well into the evening.

And that was where I found him, at almost nine o'clock, when I went to see if he'd be finished anytime soon. I'd poked my head around the door and saw him sat at his desk with his head in his hands and the sight made my heart ache.  Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"Hey," I greeted him softly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," he assured me, but the sigh that followed told me otherwise. "Just tired. It's been a busy week."

"It has. We've missed you."

My words weren't meant to add guilt to his stress, but I realized my mistake when he winced.

"Sorry," he mumbled, placing a kiss on my arm where it rested across his chest. "I did try to finish early today - I suggested we push the last interview until tomorrow when we hit the connection issues, but they weren't having it. Was Grayson mad that I missed bedtime again?"

"Not mad," I shrugged. "Just a bit disappointed."

Chris' head fell forward and his shoulders stiffened.

"That's worse."

"No, it's not," I insisted, squeezing him tightly. "He was just a little sad, but he got over it. I promised him that you'd do something fun with him when you weren't so busy and he accepted that."

"I was actually thinking of taking him to the museum to see the dinosaur exhibit," Chris admitted. "They just reopened, but he'd have to wear a mask."

"He'd love that," I smiled, knowing how much both of them loved their father and son days. We'd made an effort to give him more one on one time, but it was limiting when we hadn't been able to leave the house much until recently. "And I think he'd be okay with a mask. We can order one and get him to wear it at home for a bit to get used to it."

"Good idea," Chris nodded. "I can do that tomorrow"

"Or I can," I suggested, kissing the side of his head. "You're busy enough at the moment. And you're stressed, I can feel the tension in your shoulders."

Chris sighed again and I felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"I know. This project just means a lot to me. I want it to do well."

"And it is," I reminded him as an idea hit me. "C'mon, I know what you need to help you relax."

"Oh, yeah?" Chris smirked and I rolled my eyes as his mind had clearly gone straight to something dirty. "What would that be?"

"Probably not whatever you're thinking of," I informed him. "But there's some pizza left in the kitchen. Go have a slice of that and then meet me in the bedroom."

"Alright, I like the sound of this."

His smirk had grown and I swatted the back of his head as I slid my arms off of his shoulders.

"Don't be such a perv!"

He laughed and stood up from his chair as I shook my head and he pulled me in for a quick kiss before we headed downstairs and went our separate ways.

-

If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was run the perfect bath for relaxation. It had been my tradition every evening after I'd dropped Gray off at Chris' house - I would pour myself a glass of wine and take a bath, enjoying the opportunity for a long soak without the risk of Grayson interrupting. The bathtub in Chris' en suite made that indulgence even better due to it's size and depth and I'd taken advantage of it several times during our stay with Chris. Which meant that I had quite the assortment of bath salts and bubble bath to create the perfect bath for Chris.

The tub had just finished filling up when he walked in and I heard him chuckle at the sight.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed."

"Oh, shush," I teased, turning around to face him once I'd turned off the taps. "This will be much more effective than whatever you were imagining."

Chris scoffed at that claim, a smirk firmly on his face.

"I disagree."

"I'm sure you do, but that's too bad. Now, strip."

"Ooh, I like it when you're bossy."

His comment earned another roll of my eyes as I crossed my arms and waited for him to do as I'd instructed.

As he did, I couldn't help, but stare. He seemed to be toning up even more during our quarantine and the sight of his perfectly sculpted body took my breath away every time I had the luxury of seeing it. He caught my gaze and colour flooded my cheeks as I knew that he'd seen me gawking at him, but despite the smug look on his face, he made no comment as he climbed into the tub.

Once he was settled with his head resting back on the edge of the tub, I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and picked my phone up from where it was sitting on the counter. I unlocked the screen with the intention of replying to my mother who had messaged me while I was getting the bath ready, but a giggle slipped from my lips when I saw what was already open on my phone from earlier that day. Chris raised a questioning eyebrow and I debated whether or not to tell him about it. It had the potential to send his stress levels sky rocketing again, but if he thought I was hiding something from him, it would probably irritate him and ruin his mood anyway so I came clean.

"Hannah sent me a link to an Instagram account today that posts lots of gossip stuff," I informed him. "Most of it seems to be just random submissions, but they've been right a few times, I guess, so people seem to believe whatever they say now."

"And why did she send you a link to it?"

"Because apparently you're engaged."

I was smiling as I broke the news to him because obviously I knew it wasn't true, but Chris let out a groan of annoyance.

"Engaged to who?! To you?"

"No, to a mysterious blonde. Apparently, the person who sent in the message has a friend who spotted you picking up some takeout with this woman. Her ring was clearly on display and you were openly affectionate with her while you waited for your food."

"That's just a straight up lie," Chris huffed. "I don't know why people waste their time making this shit up and I really don't know why you bother reading it."

"It's not like I seek it out, but Hannah finds it entertaining to see what people are saying about us," I shrugged. "You have to admit that it's kinda funny. It sends everyone into such a frenzy."

Chris shot me a look.

"Funny isn't the word I'd use."

"C'mon, it's a little amusing!" I smiled, scrolling down to the comments. "Like, look, they're discussing whether or not I fit the description in case I just dyed my hair blonde. But then someone else says they saw me in L.A. two weeks ago, around the time you were with the blonde woman, so it couldn't possibly be me. They're like little detectives."

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was a reluctant smile on his face.

"Detectives aren't allowed to just make things up," he pointed out. "Unless you took a secret trip a few weeks ago that I didn't know about."

"No, I didn't," I laughed. "You have some very creative fans."

"I don't think it's my fans who write that stuff. It's probably other people trying to antagonize them."

"Well, it works like a charm. They go nuts trying to decide if it's true. I just wish they wouldn't get so mean about it sometimes," I admitted. "Like, some of them were saying how glad they were that you'd moved on from me finally because of how cruel it is that I ruined your life by trapping you with a baby."

The scowl on Chris' face instantly returned with that additional information and I scolded myself for saying it.

"I should have let Downey sue them all like he wanted to when it first leaked that you were pregnant," Chris huffed. "Then maybe by now these gossip pages would know better than to post shit about us."

"It would have just made things worse," I insisted as a smirk slid onto my face. "Besides, it doesn't really bother me. I'm the one sitting next to you while you lounge completely naked in a bubble bath while they spiral into a jealous pit of despair."

That comment earned me a laugh before he sat up a bit higher in the tub.

"Why are you sitting over there anyway?" He asked. "Get in here with me."

I smiled at his demand, but shook my head.

"This isn't supposed to be a sexy bath. You're supposed to be relaxing."

"And what better way to relax than to share a bath with the woman I love?"

A statement like that was hard to resist, especially as he grinned up at me from the tub with that amazing smile of his. I relented with surprisingly little resistance and rose from where I was sitting.

"I suppose that's fair..."

Putting my phone back on the counter, I turned so my back was to Chris. I could feel his eyes burning into me as he stared and I bit back a smirk. I quickly undid the button on the shorts I was wearing and slid them down my legs, bending at the waist as I stepped out of them. A noise of approval came from behind me as I stood up again and I shot him what I hoped was a sexy look over my shoulder before I pulled my shirt over my head. After slipping out of my bra and quickly pulling off my panties, I left them with my shorts and turned around with one hand over my chest to keep it covered until I was settled in the tub under all the bubbles.

"Wow," Chris grinned. "You're so fuckin' hot."

I giggled at his compliment, feeling a wave of self-confidence from my little strip tease.

For the past few weeks I'd been spending more time in Chris' home gym and I was feeling the positive side effects - more than just in my slowly developing muscle tone. We'd had a fight one night not long after our first pool day when I made some self-deprecating comments that rubbed Chris the wrong way. He scolded me rather harshly for always talking badly about my body and, while at first his exasperated reaction made me shut down, it eventually led to a very open conversation.

I explained that I wasn't just fishing for compliments all the time. I had some serious insecurities and - as analyzed by Hannah who was a very well trained psychologist - I tended to put myself down first before someone else could do it. I informed him that it wasn't just the body changes that come from pregnancy that bothered me, but the fact that I hadn't had much time to go to the gym since Gray was born - when he was with me, I was busy with him and when he was with Chris, I was busy with work.

He understood where I was coming from and reminded me that his home gym was available for my use any time I wanted, but insisted that I make sure I was doing it for the right reasons. He didn't want me killing myself to change how I looked when I didn't really need to, but I assured him that my motivations weren't all vanity related. Sure, I wanted to look good, but I missed feeling strong and healthy.

After our conversation, I’d started taking some time every day to get some exercise and the difference it was making to my confidence even after a few short weeks was huge. So, hearing Chris' praise now made me feel wonderful because I was actually starting to believe it.

"Thanks," I smiled in response to his compliment as I got settled in the bath tub. We were facing each other, my legs draped over his thighs so my feet were resting by his hips and my bum was between his shins. He grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together as he watched me with what could only be described as an adoring look. "It's amazing what a few weeks at the gym can do."

"Helps that you were pretty hot to start with too," he teased. "But I'm glad you're feeling more confident."

"Me too." I leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his lips. "So, are you feeling more relaxed?"

"I am," Chris nodded before letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry I've been so stressed out lately. I just want this whole thing to go well."

"And it is," I repeated my earlier assurance. "So far you've had a great reaction."

"For now," he frowned. "I just want people to actually use it and get involved."

"They will," I assured him, leaning in for another kiss. "Have I told you how proud I am of you? You're doing such a great thing, using your influence to try and make a difference. It's very inspiring."

"Well, I think you're too kind," he told me, trying to be humble despite the proud grin on his face. "Really, it's the least I can do."

"Nope, the least you could do is nothing," I pointed out. "But you're trying to help people and I'm so proud of you for that. I'm grateful that Grayson has a dad like you to look up to."

It appeared - for a brief moment - that Chris' eyes grew a little bit glassy, but he blinked a few times and they were clear once again.

"Thanks, Winnie." He paused to clear his throat. "That really means a lot and I'm sorry I've been so busy this week. I have one more podcast interview to do tomorrow morning and then I have a few days off."

"I'm glad you'll get a break, but you don't need to be sorry," I assured him. "Even though it has been kinda weird. It's crazy that a few months ago, we only ever saw each other in passing, but now I miss you when you're busy for even a few hours."

It was true. I had missed him the last few days and it did seem ridiculous when we used to go weeks without seeing each other and even then it was just briefly at a pick up or drop off. I'd been spoiled the last few months, having so much of his time. Now, seeing him every day wasn't even enough if I didn't have much of his undivided attention.

A brief flash of dread tore through me as I shared that thought with Chris because I knew this would all come to an end some day. We couldn't stay locked away in his house forever, eventually we would both have to go back to work and I knew it would make things harder. Some people found that the intense quality time was testing their relationship, but I was worried that we'd start to crumble as soon as we weren't together almost twenty-four hours a day. Once the world of Hollywood got it's claws back in Chris, I couldn't help but wonder where that would leave me.

But as always when those thoughts filled my mind, I did my best to push them away. It was likely still months before anything would change so there was no point in stressing about it now and Chris chuckled, bringing me back to the moment.

"Awe, you’ve missed me?"

His words were accompanied by a cocky smirk and I smiled despite my rolling eyes.

"Shut up."

"It's sweet. I never thought you'd be a clingy kinda girlfriend."

I wrinkled my nose in displeasure at that thought and shook my head.

"I'm not clingy!"

"Kinda sounds like you are," he pointed out. "Can't even get through a work day without pining for me."

"I wasn't pining!" I huffed, but he continued insisting that it seemed like I was. "Well, I was just about to suggest we get out of this bath, but now I think maybe you don't deserve what I was thinking of doing next."

"Get out? You just got in," Chris pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "What else have you got planned?"

Now it was my turn to smirk as I rested my hands on the side of the tub before pushing up until I was standing in front of him.

"A little extra relaxation," I told him, deliberately keeping it vague. "But I guess now, you'll never know."

I stepped out of the tub and grabbed my towel. With one last glance back at Chris who was still sitting in the bath, looking a mix of surprised and intrigued, I wrapped the towel around myself and left the bathroom - making sure to sway my hips a little more than usual on my way out.

I heard the water slosh as Chris leapt up to follow me and he appeared in the bedroom - towel around his waist and water dripping to the floor - moments later.

"Chris!" I laughed. "You're getting the floor all wet!"

"So are you," he pointed out. "But I don't care."

I hardly had time to take in his words before he strode swiftly across the room and pulled me against his chest. His hands gripped my hips so tightly that it undid my towel and he moved just briefly enough for it to fall to the floor. Once that was out of the way, he captured my lips in a kiss so fierce it made my breath catch in my chest.

I indulged for a moment, enjoying the feel of his hands roaming by body as his lips worked against mine, but then I remembered who this evening was supposed to be about. I pulled back slightly, just enough to trail my lips across his jaw and locked them onto a spot just below his ear as my hands moved to the towel around his waist. I could feel a slight bulge pressing against me - he wasn't hard yet, but it was clear that the anticipation was having an effect on him - and I untucked the towel and let it fall down with mine to give me easier access.

I heard Chris take in a shaky breath and felt him tighten his grip on me as I took him in my hand. Smiling against his skin and enjoying his little reactions, I stroked him until he was thick and full from my touch.

"Get on the bed."

Chris' tone was demanding and there was definitely a part of me that wanted to follow his instructions, but I resisted and moved my face away from where it was buried in his neck, shaking my head.

"No, this is all about you," I reminded him. "You need to relax."

He voiced a few protests as I kissed my way down his chest, but he fell silent as I dropped to my knees in front of him. His hands were clenched in fists by his side while I continued to gently stroke him, placing soft kisses on the top of his thigh, but when my kisses moved closer until my lips landed on his cock, his hands shot to grip in my hair. He wasn't forcing anything or trying to control my movements, but the sense of control that action gave him was something I knew he enjoyed and I smiled before getting down to business.

I licked him slowly from base to tip, making him shudder as I took him into my mouth. His hips twitched, pushing farther in and I did my best to accommodate him. Letting him slide slowly over my tongue, I stretched my jaw to get my mouth around his thick shaft. He always felt big - he was big - but this action made it even more apparent and I took as much of him as I could before sliding back up his cock.

Pausing for a moment to suck at the tip, I used my hand to stroke him as I lifted my eyes to look up at his face. His hand gripped my hair tighter as he threw his head back briefly, then returned his gaze to me and met my eyes. I smiled around his cock before letting my lips move farther down, taking him back in my mouth. Not feeling completely confident in my ability to deep throat someone of his size, I used my hand to cover the base and began to bob my head with renewed enthusiasm, spurred on by all the sighs and groans that were falling from his lips.

I could feel myself growing wet. His reactions, the position we were in, the slight tug of my hair - it was all overwhelming me and increasing the temptation to let him fall from my mouth, push him onto the bed and ride him until we both couldn't take it anymore, but I tried to stay focused as I worked his cock.

After a few minutes, I could tell he was getting close as his grip on my head began leading me more and more, a sign his self control was waning. That only spurred me on, but as his breathing shifted until he was practically panting and I could feel his thigh muscles tensing where my hand was resting, I heard a sound that would kill any mood.

"Mama!"

Grayson's voice floated down the stairs. It was distant and quiet, but enough to make my blood run cold as I instantly pulled my mouth off Chris.

"Fuck," Chris groaned, a pained look on his face as I shot up from where I was kneeling. "Fuck, that kid has bad timing."

Gray called for me again, sounding slightly closer than he had before and I threw on one of Chris' shirts that was crumpled up on the bed. Luckily, it fit me like a dress and covered everything that needed to be covered.

"I'm so sorry, babe," I flashed him an apologetic look. "I'll take care of him and you can take care of that."

I gestured to his still very hard and throbbing cock and the poor man looked like he wanted to cry as I hurried out of the room.

Turns out, Grayson was just thirsty so after a quick drink of water, I tucked him back into bed. By the time I returned to our bedroom, Chris was fast asleep as he lay sprawled out, still naked on top of the duvet. It looked as if he had just collapsed onto the bed and even though he was asleep, his face still showed his exhaustion. I felt a flash of sympathy as I pulled the blanket off the back of the chair in the corner of the room and covered him up with it, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before climbing in to my side of the bed.

-

August

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

[sheabuttahwrites]

[I Know]

. four : reunited, and it feels so...

three

Monday

It was about twenty minutes after eight and Cam had just left. Though, I’d been up for a while since I had to make breakfast for him. I didn’t mind, because I was too anxious to sleep anyway. I was finally about to get out of this depressing ass house for a bit. And O was never boring, so I knew it was about to be a good time. Plus I was so ready to see him. I don't know why, but this particular stretch had felt much longer than all the others. I was on the way to go pack my bag when I decided to mess with him a little instead. I grabbed my phone ready to compose a text, but I already had a notification from him. 

Get up. I’m in route, on my way to you

It had only been there for one minute. I guess we both had the same idea to play this morning. 

I’m up. Been up

You ready?

Yes big head I’m ready 

Ok short legs I was just making sure

I hollered. He was just average height himself, and only about six inches taller than me. Calling somebody short. 

Lmao why you gotta take it there? I’ll be in your vicinity today, don't get beat up

I’m not worried

You should be

Why? Ain't nobody scared of you Jay Baby

Say it to my face

You think I won't

Ok keep that same energy when you see me

Oh fa sho, you do the same

Don't worry about me, you know I’m a G 

Keep talking with your bad ass 

You ain’t gon do nothing

Me and my big head can stay home

I’m not worried lmao you know you wanna see me

You ain't funny

And you ain't gotta lie, you chuckled 

Lol anyway I’m leaving now, I’ll be over there in a minute

I know 

Lmao whatever

I laughed aloud sending him three crying laughing emoji, then slid my phone down into my bra. Finally, I went over to the closet to fill my duffle. I threw a few casual pieces in first, because comfort over everything, and then I added about three or four that could possibly be worn out. I grabbed some sneakers, a couple pairs of heels, a little jewelry, underwear, pajamas, and I packed a separate smaller bag with all of my toiletries. I had taken a shower earlier so I was ready. For about a second, I debated on whether I should change, then decided against it. I knew we would be going right to sleep once we got to his place, so my loungewear would do. 

While I waited for him, I walked over to the mirror, happy that my home remedies had helped my bruises and swelling disappear so quickly. It had only been about two and a half days, but a few aspirin and some intense ice pack usage had really worked. My rug burns were scabbed, but I wasn't too worried about those since the majority would be under my clothes. However, there was still a tiny something at the corner of my mouth, so I covered it with a bit of concealer and finished it with some setting powder. And I was sure to toss the two of them into my makeup bag for later use. 

A little after nine, much to my delight, the doorbell rang. I squealed, giddy as ever, as I jumped up to walk to the door. And, when I opened it, before me stood my bestest friend in the whole world with the goofiest smile on his face. I laughed and invited him in, so excited that I was hardly able to get the door closed behind him. Then I kissed his cheek and pulled him into the tightest hug. It felt so good to be in his arms again. “Hey.” I spoke into his chest and his deep, honeyed timbre fluttered against my ears. 

“Hey.”

I closed my eyes and just held on to him, feeling completely carefree, taking in a moment that didn't get to happen as much as I’d like. I didn't want to let go. Until he took his face down to nuzzle my neck. I flinched and giggled, backing away from him and shielding myself with my shoulder. He knew better. “Don't…”

“Now what's all that shit you was talking?” he asked jokingly, looking down into my face and laughing. 

I tossed my head back, cackling, before I went to smack his arm. “Shut up.”

“Look out. You ready?”

“Yeah, just let me get my stuff.” I left his embrace and started for the living room where I had been waiting.

“Hurry up, get me out this nigga shit.”

I screamed. I knew he hated coming here. But this was his own fault. Because he also didn’t like texting to tell me he was outside, because to him it wasn't courteous. For the same reason, he didn’t like me taking Ubers to or from his place. I personally didn't have a problem with either. Both had been done maybe twice in the beginning and he told me he felt weird about it. I only half understood, but I didn't fight him on it. Honestly, it felt nice to actually be valued for a change. “Simmer down, sir. I’m coming.”

“You know you naked?” 

I paid him no mind and kept moving toward my bags, still tickled by his earlier demand. “Whatever. No, I’m not.” My boxers and tank were plenty clothes.

“Dude would probably have a fit if he knew you were leaving the house in that.” 

Slightly appalled, I stopped mid stroll and turned back to him. “Excuse you? He would also have a fit if he knew you were picking his girl up. But that hasn’t been an issue for you for how long now?”

“Good point. Carry on.” The way he waved me off almost had me in tears. My rebuttal had shut him up too quick. 

“I thought so.”

“Not even a jacket, though? It’s kinda cool out there.”

“I’ll be ok. I’m just running to the car then right into the house after that.”

“If you say so. But what happened to your knee?” 

“Oh, nothing. I scraped it on the carpet. It was an accident,” I hastily explained just under a shout, disappearing around the corner. I hoped I wouldn't have to go into more detail. Omari definitely wasn't shy about asking questions when he wanted to know something.

“Oh. Damn.”

I returned in no time with my duffle bag in hand and my purse on my arm. He took the bag, being his usual gentlemanly self, and I grabbed my keys to lock up the house. Once we were on the porch, I made sure to engage the alarm from my phone. Then he and I hopped into his white Range that I loved so much, and we were out. 

“You hungry?” he asked, yawning.

I yawned instantly, seeing him do it first. “Nah, I'm good. I just wanna go back to sleep.” 

“Word. Me, too.” 

After Cam was done packing last night, he woke me up for round three. Or maybe it was four. I don’t know. But it wasn’t uncommon for him to try and fuck me senseless before he left for work. I guess he thought overuse of his penis was what it took for me to still be there whenever he returned. Whatever the case, I was tired as hell and in need of some serious rest. 

2:04pm

I opened my eyes, slowly becoming aware that Jade and I were face to face. I lingered for a second, letting my vision clear up, enjoying the view more than anything, though. She was stunning. Just so beautiful. Her features had to have been sculpted by the most masterful hands, using only the finest of materials. The lines were sharp, but they had a softness to them. Her skin was golden like warmed maple on a glorious Sunday morning. When they were available, her round, dark brown eyes were gentle, yet so alluring. The way they sparkled in the sun always got me. To top it all off, her sultry pout sat perfectly beneath a nose that fit just right. She was flawless. 

While I stood stretching, yawning, alternating between bending and rubbing the arm she had been lying on, I could see a sense of calm in her expression. She always looked that way when we were together. Like she was happy. And I knew that wasn't the case at home. I tried not to think about it too often, but honestly it really bothered me. She hit me up pretty regularly, revealing how he talked to her, the many ways he mistreated her. But it was probably a lot worse than she was willing to admit. My instincts told me that he was putting his hands on her. She had never confirmed my suspicions, but I knew it was the truth. I knew. And the thought of that shit alone killed me. She was so sweet. So soft spoken and mild mannered. She didn't have a cruel bone in her body. I just couldn’t imagine her actually having the need to protect herself not only from harmful, ugly words but some nigga’s hand. It fucked me up. She was easily my favorite person. I hadn’t witnessed a more pure soul. And to be aware that she was suffering, especially through something so horrible and damaging, was beginning to be too much. I couldn't do shit about it. I couldn't fix it, I couldn't change it. All I could do was be there for her, give her a place to decompress from time to time. Which I loved. I wanted to help her in any way I could, but I was starting to feel like I was in over my head. Truthfully, I didn’t know how much longer I was gonna be able to do this. It was becoming very difficult for me to live with myself. My conscience was tearing my ass up. The most trifling woman didn’t deserve what she was being subjected to every day, and she wasn’t even guilty of anything. Her only fault was loving a nigga who meant her absolutely no good.

I didn't fully understand that either. Of course I knew love could make you do things you maybe wouldn't normally do, but in this case, what was there to love? How could she look at a nigga who was constantly causing her pain and feel anything other than hate? I just didn't get it. She had to know that whatever she was experiencing wasn't love. He was abusing her. How could she still love him? Why would she take his wrath and still allow him to receive all of her goodness? She had to know he didn't deserve it. She had to know that she deserved so much better. From any man. From life. From any situation she found herself in. She had to know that something wasn't right.

But she held fast to her claims. From the start she made it known that she was in a relationship and that she was in love. I respected her honesty, but her words and her actions never matched up. Her mood on the way to my place and the one on the way back to hers were always on two completely opposite ends of the scale. I don't know if she couldn't conceal it or if she just didn't care to, but it was painfully evident where she was excited to be and where she dreaded. She just didn't move like the taken woman she alleged to be. Not by her ‘man’ at least. 

I walked into the bathroom and made my way to the toilet. Then I went to the sink to wash up. I was leaning over brushing my teeth when I felt her arms wrap around me.

I kissed his back, resting my head right against his bare skin after. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” 

I caught his reflection in the mirror and, before I could stop them, my lips had curled into an enormous grin. I was so ridiculously glad to finally be in the same place as him. Plus he was so cute. He had toothpaste all over his mouth, but it took nothing away from his appearance. I couldn't help but notice how good we looked standing there together. A better best friend duo didn't exist. 

“I’ma start thinking you happy to see me in a minute,” he teased, finishing up at the sink. 

I busted out laughing. How dare he just blow up my spot like that? I let my arms fall from his waist. He turned to face me and I swatted his chest, backing away to leave the room. “Get off. Don't act like you didn't miss me.”

He followed me out, going toward his closet. “I already told you that. You know I’m always glad to be in your presence.”

“Um hmm.” I bashfully rolled my eyes, blushing against my own will. Thankfully he was trailing me. He went into the closet and I leaned up against the doorway. “So I thought about it, let’s stay in today.”

“Ok.” He took a t-shirt from one of the drawers and pulled it over his head. “That’s cool.”

“We can go do something tomorrow.”

“Well, I got a couple meetings,” he casually announced, walking over to the other side of the room headed for the couch.

“Awww.” I wasn’t expecting him to have to work so soon. “What time?”

“The first one is at nine in the morning, but neither of them should take too long. Nobody’s recording and I’m not mixing anything. So it should only be a few hours.” 

I stood as he sat, my demeanor in a totally different arena than before. My arms were loosely folded across my chest and a slight scowl had inevitably taken over my expression. “Ok.”

“Jay,” he chuckled, picking up the remote, “don't act like that.”

“I know what you call a few hours. I probably gotta be here all day without you.” 

“It won't be all day,” he claimed, giving the TV all of his attention as he flipped through the channels. “I should be back by around three at the latest. Maybe four.”

I smacked my lips, annoyed that he was alluding to seven hours being minuscule. That was most certainly the entire day. “That’s long.”

“Pooh, you know work doesn't stop. I’m always working.”

“I know, but I just got here.”

He sighed heavily, looking up at me with remorseful eyes and a frown to match. “Why you tryna make me feel bad?”

“I’m not. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself,” I spoke lightly, but the defeat was heavy in my voice. I dropped my head and gave him my eyes, making sure to slouch my shoulders and pout as deeply as I could manage. I didn't even hold it long before we were both cracking up. 

“Don't even try it. Fake self.” 

“Whaaaat?”

“You just about to be sleep the whole time anyway.” 

I doubled over and slapped my knee, because he definitely wasn’t lying. “Whatever.” But I was not about to admit it. Instead, I went to my bag and grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste. “Be right back.”

[emilycollins00]

A3 actors! Art in bloom

Type: One shot

Pairing: Miyoshi Kazunari x Reader

Theme: Passion / Art / Clash

Contrary to what many people and even classmates of yours thought, being an art student was not something you should chose to do lightly.

Sure, it seemed enjoyable, cute even. But no one ever talked about how many hours you would spend with a single portrait, drafting about abstract concepts or trying to discern at two in the morning whether a sculpture should turn more sideways or look at the ground to create a deeper perspective. 

Art was wild.

But you loved it and, why not admit it, you took it pretty seriously. Maybe a tiny bit more than most people.

That’s why you had always liked how Kazunari Miyoshi, although being the loud person he was, frequently went on and on with you discussing ideas when there was some debate in class. That brain of his was something else. His works and usual approach when mixing modern and traditional Japanese culture fascinated you. It really did.

But that had been changing lately, and it angered you.

Up until this year you hadn't really cared about it. Everyone had their right to live however they wanted after all.

However, without being able to tell when it began, you started casually observing him. You watched him talk to your other classmates as soon as the lecture, frowned as he concentrated on the draft they had one hour and a half to finish or taking selfies and live videos of the works you all were demanded to do. You even discovered yourself staring and how the sun caressed his profile first hour in the morning.

He had a nice profile.

By that point, something inside you was getting frustrated. He participated in class and attended to the lectures, but at the same time…? you felt he was starting prioritising social media over art, or looking for people for one of his popular mixers, like so many of your other classmates, who had most likely entered this major without much thought, did.

You would understand if he would have a part-time job, but the thought of him being able to do so much more and deciding to stop midway left you speechless.

You wished for him to take more things seriously. 

“Miyoshi, were you able to clean all the supplies from last class?" you called him out between the break. Everyone in class traded places to carry the main boxes with brushes, paints and whatever main source they had to work with each week "Our teacher told me to take some clay from there. I'm planning to use them for my final project, but I can't seem to find the key in the secretary office”

The university student lifted his head from his mobile and tipped on his chin, trying to remember "Supplies from...? Oh man, THAT is why I had them in my working space!” He palped his jeans looking for it “My bad, I was totes in a hurry and just closed as soon as we were done!” 

You contained an exasperated groan “Why would you get the key unless it was to clean the practice room?” 

Kazunari laughed nervously under your intimidating glare “True, true! It's just that I was talking with some friends over the phone and they were in a hurry so…” he showed you the key taking it out of his pocket, maybe to show that at least he hadn’t lost it “Do you need them now? I could go clean for you” 

The vein you had tried so hard to maintain calm popped altogether. Not wanting to keep talking, you rapidly grabbed the key from his hand and headed to take the supplies. God grief how you hated that carefree attitude. 

                                         ……………………..…….

“No prob, dude! Next time just hit me up with a DM and I’ll come running to your uni here! In exchange, I’ll need your help to finish the flyers so…” 

Recognizing the flashy voice, you slowly looked behind, witnessing the blond with another person. Was he meeting with people to play around here too? 

You couldn’t believe it. You all had your final projects deadlines almost spitting in your faces! That’s why you had to come to this other university to ask for permission to use a kiln for your final, as you didn’t have lectures prepared today and your university didn’t have any. Didn’t look like it was Kazunari’s case. 

“Uh? No way, Y/N-pyon!” he waved at you with both hands, confirming it was you indeed, as he got closer “Looking fleek today too! What are you doing here in Yosei?” the person walking next to him whispered something “They’re a friend from my major Tsuzuroon, I told you about them, dude!” 

You mentally scoffed. Without returning his greet and turning on your heels, you headed for the teacher’s office.

 “You said friend but…” Tsuzuru squinted his eyes, watching you leave “…It doesn't look like they like you very much” 

“No worries! Nowadays they are always like that. But their works are so lit! Y/N-pyon is the ultimate remix of you, Ten-ten and Yukki!” 

“That’s… not a good thing, Miyoshi-san”

                            …………………………………………

“Y/N-pyon, about-”

“Miyoshi, sorry. I am on my way to Yosei University to finish my work and unlike your usual approach of work to play, I actually don’t have time to waste”

“Uh? My works are…”

“Are what? I’ve been seeing you doing half-assed things all over the semester. This last week you didn’t even come at the afternoon lectures” you were pretty sure this was just you venting at this point “You’re amazing Miyoshi, I honestly think that, so why? If… If you only put more of yourself into it, your art would be even more unbelievable!”

He went quiet, a rare sight.

“Art it’s not something you just do for laughs; I thought you were one of the few people here that felt the same and-” the phone in your bag started ringing. Head  teacher. Inhaling deeply, you answered it “Yes?”

“Y/N-san? I am so sorry. Could you come to Josey university?” 

Losing the eye contact you had been maintaining with the blond boy, your heart sank as you heard the words ‘kiln’ and ‘malfunction’. “…Please tell me my final project is ok” 

                                       ……………………………….

You stood in silence, looking at the mess when you heard a knock at the door.

“I know I shouldn’t have followed and am expecting you throw me out the door but…” you didn’t move an inch so Kazunari took that as a free pass.

Just as the teacher told you, the electricity in the small building had had an issue and there had been a combustion, meaning, the sculpture you had kept here while working for weeks was now cracked and in shreds. You sniffed, brushing away the tears that were trying to come out from your eyes. All your hard work. All the time spent, had been for nothing.

“The Kiln is burnt. I don’t have anything good to save” you felt emotionally exhausted “Damn, I should have used air dry clay since the beginning… or not tried to sculpt anything” your vision became blurry again “I don’t know why do I make everything more difficult that it is”

Kazunari contemplated the situation, studying the seemingly full cracked sculpture from afar.

“Teach probably told you she would wait for you to turn on the work, right?” He saw you vaguely nodding you head “You got this!” he put his hand on your shoulder, you barely glancing at him “Look, If you still wanna use this base I’ll go ask for some moisturize and clean water to mix. Then I will maintain the upper part as you work down there, not bad idea right?”

You stared at him, finally grasping that he had come all the way here and was now trying to help “Why are you here? I… was being a busybody telling you how to work in our major” you had realized you had crossed the line back then.

Kazunari laughed, shaking his head “You were not saying anything that was a lie though, I don't want to admit it, but it’s true I've been a mess for a while”

“I guess parties require a lot of work” you bite your tongue hard. He was being a decent person trying to help and you couldn’t stop for two seconds to pick on him? You wanted to punch yourself.

“Mmm? Ah, our theatre troupe is almost opening for performance and the next troupe is on practices so flyers and scripts are running at full gas”

You stopped looking at your sculpture. What did he just say about a theatre?

“…What?”

“You’ve never come, Y/N-pyon? Mankai company is the best theatre in Veludo way! You totes should come, I’ll even send you the tickets for our new performance!” before you knew it, he had already DM you what you imagined was all the background information.

The moment you unlocked it, you almost dropped the phone. The photos and drawings of the posters were amazing, and you just knew who it had done “You… never said you had a job”

Kazunari considered what you pointed out. Mankai had managed to recover from what they needed to pay but they still didn't have enough founds “I’ve never thought about our acts as a job thought”

Your mind was a mess. Being an actor and doing publicity didn’t count for him as he studied? No wonder he usually left early! Now you felt even worst. You had behaved like a… “Uh, are these original templates?” you browsed over the performances’ posters, each one more astonishing than the other “This is… wow and this one?” 

He blinked, noticing how the tone of your voice was now more soothing. You had somewhat calm down. He would high-key enjoy hearing you talk to him like that more often “Hey, enough about me. We have work to do”

You agreed, putting away your phone “You’re right but again I… I am sorry, Miyoshi. And thanks, for staying” 

“No prob, Y/N-pyon!” 

“Would you tell me what I could do so you stopped calling me that?” 

“Eeeeeeh why? I think it fits! It's super-duper cute, like you!” 

Thump!

No. You told yourself.

Coming back to your senses you told yourself the warm you felt in your cheeks was due to summer starting earlier. It definitely wasn’t because of Kazunari smile directed at you, helped you or how the sun reflected on his perfect profile as you both started working on your work. 

Art was wild… but it was also an evocative of feelings.

_________________________________________________________

This one has been a difficult one! I wanted Reader to kind of clash with his mindset

Hope you guys enjoy it. Have a wonderful day! 💕

[iheardarumorxxx]

Midnight Sun, Chapter 2 - Open Book

Not even a full paragraph in and I have to call Weirdo on something. In the Twilight canon, it is often mentioned that vampires are always always always cold. Like, big old blocks of perfectly sculpted ice. But here, Eddie boy says that his skin had cooled to match the air around him. Can’t work that way. Either Pires are heat sinks that are always freezing, or their temperature can change based on the temperature around them. Can’t be both.

Also gonna bring up the chapter titles real quick. Maybe SM will try to hamfist it, but in Twilight the chapter titles were (supposedly) related to the chapter. First Sight was Bella (supposedly) falling in love at first sight w Edward, and Open Book was Bella going on about how she was an open book and couldn’t hide anything and wore her emotions on her face etc etc. It doesn’t make sense to me to keep the same chapter titles when we’re obstensively living in the head of a different character.

Would have been, if I'd been able to really see it.

What SM was going for here was ‘Edward was so lost in his own head that he couldn’t even see the sky above him even though it was beautiful’ but this doesn’t work. Wanna know why? It’s because of this:  The sky above me was clear, brilliant with stars, glowing blue in some places, yellow in others. The stars created majestic, swirling shapes against the black universe - an awesome sight

Weirdo described the sky with perfect, flowery detail, expressed outright the colors that were swirling above him and the way the stars swirled and made shapes. He wouldn’t have been able to do that if he was too focused on his own thoughts to pay attention to it. This is what I mean when I say that SM hasn’t really mastered the First Person POV. This would have absolutely worked if instead of ‘I’ it had said ‘he’. 

As a note: Weirdo calling Bella ‘unremarkable’ in terms of how she looks just comes off as those shitty ‘you aren’t even that hot’ responses from people when they get rejected.

And Weirdo describing the way Tanya leaps at him reads really flat and boring. The play by play method to show how Graceful and Ethereal the Pires are is gross and the flat emotionless tone makes it read like a laundry list of actions. 

Chagrin sighting number two. And I’ve gotta say, this little thing with Weirdo and Tanya reads a little more realistically than any interaction between our main couple throughout the entire Twilight Saga. Sure, Widdle Eddie isn’t into her, but they’re openly and honestly communicating about it, which is more than Bella and Weirdo ever did.

Mostly Tanya preferred human men

This sentence right here completely invalidates Weirdo’s entire argument about how he would murder Bella with his Schlong if he ever gave into his desire for her, as there is clearly a way to hook up with a pathetic, weak human without killing them.

Two chagrins in one chapter, I am blessed.

though her feelings were not deep, hardly pure, and, in any case, not something I could return.

This goes back to that thing I was bitching about in chapter one about Weirdo and only reading surface level thoughts. He isn’t an empath, he can’t descern from her surface thoughts how deep her feelings might be. Based on how his power comes across, it’s likely that he can’t actually interpret any kind of tone at all, and is guessing at the emotion behind the thought. Just because Tanya makes a passing thought about Eddie that may be ‘unpure’ (gag) doesn’t mean that her feelings for him are strictly lusty and naughty.

By the way, it’s only chapter two and I’m already sick of hearing about Bella’s ‘chocolate brown eyes’.

That time jump that they did from Snowy Alaska back to Fork High cafeteria was jarring. We have literally travelled through space time to get back to The Plot(tm) as quickly as possible. Maybe, just maybe, it would have been beneficial to see some of Weirdo’s drive back, get some more introspection, more of an idea of how he plans to handle himself re: The Bella Thing, even if it is in his whiny, affected urple prose.

Humans were constantly desperate to feel normal, to fit in. To blend in with everyone else around them, like a featureless flock of sheep.

Unlike our great, wonderful, perfect Pires, of course. They would never dare to try fitting in with the Sheep that they have decided to live among and try to blend in with. This goes to prove my point that SM’s Pires don’t give a flying shit about blending in with humans, even though it is supposedly Vampire Mafia Law that they don’t get exposed.

"Maybe you're not as scary as you think you are,"

Despite the fact that SM tries so hard to make him come off as the stereotype of ‘dumb jock’, Emmett deserves a better series than this one. Not being afraid to roast Weirdo is absolutely fucking A+ in my book.

We are, yet again, applying Pire logic and physics to not Pire things to show how Strong and Powerful and Amazing our Pires are. I must once again posit that these things are not Pires, and therefore, would not behave in this manner, even when a Pire is interacting with it.

I am once again unconvinced by this Let’s Shit On Jessica Stanley thing I’m having to schlock through. Sure, she’s a lil petty, but she doesn’t come across as overt mean girl bully and she never has. SM never made her feel like anything more than a (in fairness, extremely stereotypical) teenage girl trying to be nice to the new girl in school and being put off by her weird behavior.

Small point to make here, just because I realized how bored I was with the debate over whether Weirdo would go to class and murder Bella or not. Because this is a companion piece to an already published novel, we know what’s gonna happen. Now, a good author wouldn’t let that stop them from making the tension feel real. Even though I know the outcome, I would still be focused on the journey to get there. But I’m not, because it reads as dry and dull. The tension isn’t there and I’m not enjoying the journey to get to the ending I already know. The characters aren’t even likeable enough to keep me entertained. This is why companion pieces and POV shift retellings are so hard to do.

it was hard to believe that anyone so vulnerable could ever justify hatred.

I feel like this is supposed to be the first lil glimmer that Weirdo is In LUV with Bella or whatever in this POV, but the thing is, his patronizing tone and the way he is seemingly always going on about how weak and pathetic Bella is just kinda makes it feel like he’s acting like her Dad. 

Though they didn't want to stand out from the herd, at the same time they craved a spotlight for their individual uniformity.

I only have one thing to say about this. Fuck You Edward Cullen.

I feel like Weirdo is starting to craft this idea of Bella in his head, much like he does with everyone else, but because he doesn’t have the crutch of using his surface thought mind reading powers, he has to guess at her thoughts (much like typical normal human people do because we’re weak and pathetic unlike the Pires), and he’s basically assigning her the thoughts he thinks she should be having. He’s crafting Bella into the perfect ideal for himself without taking her atonomy into consideration.

"Ladies first, partner?"

This is a continuity error. In Twilight, he did not say ‘Partner’, just ‘Ladies first’. It’s nitpickey, and I’m aware that it’s nitpickey, but it’s jarring if you know Twilight well enough to know the dialogue. If we’re going to see the same scene from a different POV, the only thing changing should be the inner monologue, not the dialogue between characters.

I could feel myself warming slightly to the higher temperature.

Bzzzzt, no. I already talked about this earlier, but everything established in canon shows that Eddie doesn’t ever warm up. He and Bella cuddle under a blanket and he is still described as rock hard marble adonis ice. He can’t warm up, according to established canon.

And in this chapter, we finally start the Shitting On Mike Newton run. Mike is the fucking worst in this book and is treated like shit, all because -- can you guess??? -- all because he thought the new girl was pretty and had a little crush on her. Mike gets shit on SO FUCKING MUCH in this series just for daring to think Bella is pretty.

Ignorance was bliss to the human mind.

OR EDDIE YOU’RE JUST ARROGANT AND RUDE AND NOT AS INTERESTING AS YOU THINK YOU ARE. The Cullens fucking PRANCE around this school in their designer beige turtlenecks with their flashy fucking cars and look down their noses at the pleb humans who could never be as good as they are, and especially with the way SM wants to paint Forks as this fucking insular hick town where everyone knows everyone and are probably socioeconomically lower than American average, its RUDE AND GROSS and makes them look like stuck up fucking JERKS. But sure. Keep touting on about how humans are scared of you.

And yet again, we get an example of Eddie boy ignoring the fact that Bella (for all of her faults) is a HUMAN PERSON and not some game for him to play. ‘Wahhh, I can’t read her thoughts, that makes me angy and frustrated’ and whining about how he wants her to GO AWAY because her blood makes his froat hurt but how he wants her to stay because she’s so MYSTERIOUS AND DEEP. 

This didn't fit with the scenario I'd been constructing in my head.

And this is exactly the point I was making up there. Edward is making wild assumptions about Bella based solely on his experience with the human condition from his immortality, but he is also crafting her into what HE thinks is the right way for her to be in his mind without taking into consideration that she is a complex human with feelings and emotions. But instead of actually correcting himself, he continues to do this, and we know he does because he continues to posit that she’s deep and wise even though we know different from being in her POV for three and a half books. 

A lot more of this dialogue is changed from the conversation in the original Twilight than I thought. It should be easy to keep at least the dialogue consistent.

I clearly was not as perceptive as I gave myself credit for.

This is the most true thing that Eddie is going to think in this entire book, and it isn’t even genuine and that upsets me so much.

my mother always calls me her open book.

I would like to use my solid four years of Twilight knowledge to point out that Bella Swan is not an open book, she’s a lying liar who lies about things, even though she says all the time that she doesn’t like lying. She was always going on about how she fakes her emotions for the benefits of others, she is not an open book at all.

The reason she was upset was because she thought I saw through her too easily.

And, of course, Weirdo eats this shit right the fuck up.

"I find you very difficult to read." "You must be a good reader then,"

This exchange didn’t make sense in Twilight, and it still doesn’t make sense here. Unless Bella is being sarcastic based on her previous statement, the exchange just... isn’t good. And it’s pretty clear that Bella isn’t being sarcastic. So. Explain it, someone, pls.

Emmett still deserves a better book than this one. He is literally out here like ‘Everyone makes mistakes, Eddie boy.’ But we are still talking about murder here, so... 

And that’s chapter two. I didn’t mean to do it all in one long post, but I couldn’t really see a good break in it to cut it in half. The human bashing is already getting worse and it’s making me annoyed. As you can probably tell from the Cap Locks. We get the first glimpse of Eddie being ‘protective’ that we know is gonna get creepy and paternal as the story goes along. And I know that SM was going for an old timey thing with Eddie, but Bella’s inner monologue was really dry and boring, and Weirdo is even worse in that area. Yet again, we see the First Person POV slipping. Little things that just don’t work in Eddie’s head.

Join me tomorrow for more, and thanks for reading along. 

[fangirlingtodeath513]

So today is the lovely @pray4jensen ‘s birthday and she gave me some ideas for a birthday fic and this was the result!! I hope you like it, Jo, and happy birthday!!! ❤️

Kiss and Make Up

“I’m not a child, Dean, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like one! I am more than capable of handling attention from unwanted parties, you don’t always need to step in.” Cas huffs, tossing his keys into the bowl by the front door.

Dean scoffs as he hangs up his coat and kicks his shoes off. “Well, excuse me for being a little protective of my fiancé .”

Cas turns to glare at Dean for a moment before stalking toward their bedroom, unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt as he goes. “You’re not protective, Dean, you’re jealous . I’m literally engaged to you and you’re still jealous about some random guy in a bar that thinks I’m attractive!” He wrestles with the buttons on his shirt for a few minutes before giving up and tugging the entire thing over his head, throwing it at the hamper with a huff. “It’s embarrassing to go out with you when you get like that.”

Dean sighs, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m sorry, love. You’re right, I do get jealous. I just feel like any minute you’re going to realize that you deserve way better than me and leave.”

Castiel runs a hand through his hair. Fuck Dean, honestly. He does this every fight and it drives him insane. “That’s not the problem, Dean! I chose you when I agreed to marry you, just like I choose you every day when I come home to you. Maybe you just like being a jealous idiot.”

Dean scoffs and takes a few more steps into the room, dropping his cufflinks on the dresser. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m being ridiculous?” Cas laughs angrily, grabbing a decorative pillow from the bed and throwing it at Dean. Dean catches it effortlessly and drops it onto the chair in the corner of the room.

“Yeah, Cas, you kinda are. It’s not like I said anything to them.”

Castiel sighs. “No, but you were pissed off all night and I’ve had a long day, I just wanted to enjoy your company.”

Dean smirks despite himself, unbuttoning his own dress shirt. “You’re free to enjoy my company right now.”

Castiel blinks at him, internally debating. This is a fight they’ve had a million times before and, to be fair, Dean has been better about letting his jealousy go recently. Cas knows he’s working on it, so what the hell?

Decision made, he crosses the room in two long strides, grabbing onto Dean’s shirt and pushing him up against the wall, fingers curling into the crisp dress shirt in an effort to keep Dean exactly where he is. Dean, for his part, is only startled for a fraction of a second before he smirks and draws Cas into a heated kiss, plush lips fitting perfectly against Castiel’s own like they were sculpted to. Still, Castiel’s not doing this just to make out with Dean, as much as he enjoys it, so he pulls away and pushes Dean’s shirt over his shoulders, watching with a strange sense of satisfaction as it flutters to the floor.

Dean smirks and raises an eyebrow at him. “Enjoying the view, Cas?”

Castiel rolls his eyes and works Dean’s belt open, tugging it from the belt loops of Dean’s pants and tossing it aside. He slips a finger into one of the loops, tugging Dean toward the bed and smirking as he shoves him down onto it. Dean blinks up at him, lips parted in a gasp as Cas stands over him for a moment, letting his eyes skirt the length of Dean’s body. He can see Dean’s eyes darken with arousal, which is all kinds of hot, so Cas doesn’t waste any time popping the button of Dean’s pants and sliding the zipper down, looking up at Dean and licking his lips, chuckling darkly as Dean groans.

“It’s a nice view,” he says with a shrug, tracing a finger over the length of Dean’s cock through his boxers before tugging his pants off and mouthing at the head through the cotton.

Dean’s entire body shudders and Cas is still thrilled that he can make Dean of all people do that, but he can dwell on it later. Right now, he’s gotta prove to Dean that he’s not going anywhere, no matter how often that little voice in Dean’s head says he will. Since words aren’t working, maybe he can get that through Dean’s thick skull with sex.

He slips Dean’s boxers off, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock before licking a stripe up the underside, smirking when Dean shivers and leans up on his elbows to watch, a dark, hungry look in his eyes. Castiel decides to give him a show, because why the hell not, so he bats his lashes and smiles innocently up at his fiancé. “Is this what you want, Dean?”

Dean whines softly, pushing his hips up. “Cas, sweetheart, c’mon, don’t be a tease.”

He smirks and shrugs, running his palm up the underside of his cock. “Just trying to give you a show, Dean.”

Dean groans frustratedly. “I don’t want a show, I want your mouth.”

Cas laughs. “Needy little thing today, aren’t you?”

Dean sits up more to glare at him, so Castiel laughs and brushes his lips over the head of his cock before smiling and pulling it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Dean groans and falls back against the bed, one of his hands finding its way to Castiel’s head, fingers tangling in the messy locks as Castiel slowly sinks down the length of his erection, enjoying the feeling of Dean’s fingers in his hair and his cock hardening against his tongue.

“Cas,” he murmurs breathlessly, almost like he isn’t even addressing Castiel at all. “More, please ,” he begs, fingers tightening in Cas’s hair.

Castiel is only too happy to oblige, teasing the slit for a moment before brushing his hands up Dean’s thighs, smirking as Dean shivers beneath him. He works his jaw open, letting Dean slide farther and farther into his mouth until Dean grows restless and tugs at Cas’s hair gently.

“Cas, baby, let me fuck your mouth?” he asks, almost gently, like he’s afraid Cas will say no. He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls off and sits back on his thighs smirking and raising an eyebrow at his fiancé.

“Well? What’re you waiting for?”

Dean grumbles as he gets to his feet and Cas hears the tail end of his sentence, “—the death of me, I swear.” Still, playful grumpiness and all, he brushes a thumb along the length of Cas’s jaw and bites his lip when Cas turns his head and sucks on the tip of his thumb, eyes dark as he looks up at Dean. It only takes a moment of his teasing before Dean’s grasping his length and guiding it back into Castiel’s mouth, his free hand cupping the back of Castiel’s head gently. He takes it slow at first, hips barely flexing as he drives himself in and out of Cas’s mouth. Cas doesn’t have that kind of patience, though, so he rolls his eyes and grabs onto Dean’s hips, encouraging him to use him in any way he pleases. This isn’t supposed to be gentle, this is supposed to be angry, hot, make-up sex.

Dean seems to get with the program easily, his fingers curling into Castiel’s hair as he finally lets his inhibitions go and fucks into his mouth. He’s still gentle, of course, he never pushes farther than he knows Castiel can handle, but that’s something Castiel has come to know and love about him. Sure, Dean may be a very sexual person, but he always makes sure the other person is enjoying it just as much as he is. It’s one of the things that had drawn him back to Dean after their first night together.

Dean pulls back and Castiel frowns up at him, but then he’s being hauled to his feet and pushed in the direction of the bed, stumbling a few steps before falling back onto it. Dean grins at him, fingers brushing over the obvious hardness in Cas’s pants before he tugs them off with his boxers and tosses them away. “Can I fuck you?”

Cas growls softly and tugs Dean down on top of him, letting himself get lost in a heated kiss before he wraps his legs around Dean’s waist and smirks up at him. “I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

Dean rolls his eyes but there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips and that sight alone makes Castiel’s stomach flutter. Even knowing that he’ll get to spend the rest of his life with Dean, his stupid heart thinks they’re still in high school, falling in love for the first time.

Castiel shakes the thought away as Dean backs up, though it’s only to retrieve the bottle of lube from his nightstand before he returns to bed, settling between Castiel’s spread legs.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

Castiel glares at him, spreading his legs even more as he strokes himself lazily with one hand. “If you’re not in me in ten minutes, I’m just going to shove you on the bed and ride you. Your choice.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow, grinning. “And if I say I like option two?”

Ah, so that’s how he wants to play tonight. Castiel shrugs, trying his best to look indifferent, his heart clenching as he watches Dean’s face fall. Once he’s properly distracted by the thought of Castiel denying him, Cas plants one hand on Dean’s chest and shoves him backward, chuckling as Dean yelps in surprise. His eyes are wide with a mix of shock and arousal as Castiel settles over him, knees bracketing his hips.

“Then I suppose you’ll just have to lay there and take what I give you,” Cas murmurs in his ear, biting the lobe for good measure before he takes the lube from Dean and slicks his own fingers.

He doesn’t waste much time opening himself up because he certainly doesn’t have the patience for it. Dean’s usually better at that, anyway. Castiel just wants Dean inside him, even if it means his ass will ache a bit tomorrow. Truth be told, he kind of likes the reminder of their nights together.

Dean watches his every movement with rapt attention, drawing in a sharp breath when Castiel finally pulls his fingers away and squeezes some lube onto Dean’s cock, giving it a few lazy strokes before tossing the bottle aside and guiding his cock to his aching hole. With a heavy, content sigh, he lets his eyes slip closed as he sinks onto Dean’s length. It’s a feeling he’s so used to but he’s positive he’ll never get enough of it, no matter how long he’s with Dean. He does need a few moments to let his body adjust, but he still swivels his hips slowly. It must cause just enough friction for Dean, though, because he gasps and grapples for Cas’s hips, fingers pressing white into his skin.

He’s beautiful like this, he always has been. Sure, Dean’s beautiful nearly all the time and Cas hates him just a little bit for it, but this… this is different. Dean is different. It’s like he slips into a whole new personality during sex, especially if he and Cas have been in a fight. He’s all soft touches and hushed words of encouragement, and more often than not he grabs onto Cas like his life depends on it, like Castiel is the only thing keeping him from drifting away. Maybe he is. Castiel could certainly say the same about Dean at times. Besides, he kind of likes that he has that effect on Dean.

“Cas, c’mon, please move,” he begs, thumbs brushing over Castiel’s hip bones lightly.

Castiel smirks and inclines his head, grinding his hips for a moment before he sits up and slowly sinks back down onto Dean’s cock, letting out a breathy moan as he does so. Dean, for his part, looks absolutely wrecked. His face is flushed and his bottom lip is swollen from how hard he’s been biting it. Smiling to himself, Castiel pries Dean’s hands off his hips and links their fingers instead, pinning Dean’s hands to the bed beside his head. Dean blinks up at him, tongue darting out to lick his lip and it entices Cas to lean down and pull him into a kiss as he grinds down on Dean’s cock, setting a pace that will bring them to the edge in no time. It’s not about that, though, he honestly doesn’t care about orgasming at the moment. He’s been craving this closeness with Dean all night and now that he’s finally got it, he’s not eager to let it go.

Dean doesn’t seem to have the same reservations and he thrusts his hips up to meet Cas’s movements, kissing Castiel like his life depends on it. Eventually, Cas can’t hold himself back anymore, but he doesn’t really see a point in trying to. Dean’s as close as he is if his soft pants and whimpers are anything to go by.

“Are you close, Dean?” Cas murmurs into his ear, smirking as it makes Dean’s entire body shudder.

“Y-yeah, Cas, so close.” He bites his lip, leaning up slightly to capture Castiel in a heated kiss. “Wanna see you come first, sweetheart,” he murmurs, drawing one of his hands away from Castiel’s and wrapping it around his cock instead.

It only takes a few quick strokes before Castiel is spilling between them, burying his face against Dean’s neck as he shudders his way through the orgasm. Dean’s not far behind, hips faltering as he comes inside Castiel, hands stroking the soft, sweat-slick skin of Castiel’s back.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean murmurs against his ear, pressing a light kiss to his jaw. Castiel nods slowly, stifling a yawn against Dean’s neck. Dean chuckles, brushing a hand through Castiel’s hair. “No sleeping yet, come on. Let’s get cleaned up and then we can sleep, promise.”

Castiel whines but allows Dean to shuffle them off the bed and into the ensuite, hands roaming every inch of Dean that he can reach while Dean cleans them off.

“Y’know, you’re not helping me want to go to sleep, babe.”

Castiel smirks, pulling Dean into a kiss. “Who said I want to sleep?”

Dean groans, leaning against the counter and pulling Castiel against him. “You’re insatiable. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“You’re not allowed to die until I’m done with you, Winchester.”

Dean laughs. “Yes, sir. Bed?”

“Mhm. Cuddles, please.”

Dean shakes his head, but the small smile on his face betrays the annoyance he tries to show. “C’mon, then.” He threads their fingers together and tugs Castiel to bed. They both get situated under the covers and then Castiel shuffles as close as physically possible to Dean until they’re pressed together from head to toe, his head tucked under Dean’s chin. He can feel Dean smile against his hair, then press a light kiss to his forehead. “G’night, Cas.”

Castiel sighs happily, wrapping his arms around Dean’s middle and tangling their legs together. “Goodnight, Dean.”

[artificialqueens]

Same Parts (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Of Lovers, Friends and Everything in Between. Part 3.- New Outfit

Title: Same Parts. Category: M/M Summary: He’s lickin’ his lips. His back on the wall. My ass on his d-d-d. Notes: This was actually the first story I wrote for the challenge, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into lol Quick reminder, female pronouns are used once they get in drag. Enjoy! -Monkey Written: Sept 29th, 2019

Same Parts

Trixie Mattel is done for the night.

All the elements that compose her have been haphazardly thrown into the suitcase that Brian now pulls across the driveway. The wheels jump with the cracks on the pavement, making the task harder than it should be. All he wants to do is get home, to reach the confinements of his house and forget all about the horrible night he just had.

It’s cold, or at least as cold as a California night can get. The wind has picked up and is now biting at his cheeks, making the path from the sidewalk –where the Uber has dropped him off– to the front door seem longer than usual. His nose is surely turning red as he fumbles with his keys. The ring is full, too full. He’s been meaning to purge it for the longest time, yet, every time he even starts thinking about it, he reasons that all the important pieces of metal are there for a reason. He goes through them, one by one, recognizing the different colors and brands; mentally pronouncing where they belong to until he’s able to remove the lock and push the heavy piece of wood open.

The smell of baking goods is the first thing that greets him. He can’t remember when was the last time the oven was used in that house. It’s probably the aroma of pancakes that reaches his nostrils, he concludes after a couple sniffs. The stink of cigarettes mixes with the food. All the lights are on, bathing the hallways with brightness, as Lana del Rey’s voice travels through them loudly. He won’t even try to guess the title of the song, they all sound the same to him. One thing he doesn’t have to speculate about, all those signs let him know that he is home.

“Brian!” He calls from his spot by the door. He’s in no mood of going around the place looking for him, not when his feet hurt from standing in heels all night; not when his muscles feel sore from all the dancing he was forced into. Yet, there is no answer.

For a moment, he considers just going upstairs and getting in the shower. His arrival will eventually be noticed. The inner debate is still going as he removes his jacket and scarf, leaving them on the little hooks by the door. Maybe he should check the kitchen, if nobody is there then he will find his way to the bedroom and wait there. Deep down, Brian knows all the baking and music blasting are activities to kill time until he returns home. It would be rude to go straight to bed without at least informing him he’s back.

Lana is by now singing something different, a faster tempo to accompany the same haunting voice. Then comes an unbelievably pitchy shout, which is probably a failed attempt to follow the lyrics.

He makes the last turn to enter the kitchen and that’s where he finds him, he finds her. The padded ass is up in the air as the whole torso disappears inside the fridge, taking too long to find something that is most likely right there. Brian doesn’t mind. He’s enjoying the view of the red thong shimmying in rhythm with the music, illuminated by the flourescent light of the refrigerator.

“Hey, Brian,” he tries once more, a little lower this time.

There’s a loud bang, followed by a grunt, before the full fantasy of Katya emerges from the fridge.

“Oh, hi!” Katya says, her hand rubbing the back of her head, the blonde curls of the wig going up and down to the movement. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Her heels click-clack on the tiles of the kitchen as she makes her way to him. Red lips are pressed against his stained ones a little too quickly. Brian closes his eyes and chases after her, provoking a low laugh from her. She complies. Walking directly into his space, she crosses her arms around his neck and pushes her perfectly sculpted body against his.

She kisses him a couple of times. Small pecks that barely allow any contact of their lips. Brian groans in frustration and she smiles against his lips, enjoying the power she already has on him.

“How was the gig?” Her question is simple, he should be able to answer it without a problem, but he’s distracted. Her fingers rubbing against his cheeks, probably trying to remove the remainings of his heavy make up, make it hard to concentrate.

He pulls her for a hug, feeling the need to be closer to her and recharge with her energy. He sighs into her neck. “It was horrible. All those baby queens have no idea what they are doing.” A strand of hair hits his lips and he blows the plastic away from his face. “Why can’t I just always work with you?” he whines. His open palms land on her waist, compressed by the red corset. “What is this, by the way?”

The wheezing that follows sounds a lot louder when she’s delivering it right into Brian’s ear. She pushes him back, needing space to bend over in laughter. Her eyes fall shut and her mouth falls open. Then, there’s no sound leaving her body, but she’s still shaking with amusement.

“I-I… I completely forgot!” Her hands squeeze his arm tightly, trying to physically transmit the hilarity of the situation. “I forgot I was in full drag,” she finally says a little calmer. “I just finished stoning this.” There’s a little turn to show off her handywork. The restraining garment shining bright as tiny stones catch the light. “I tried it on, but it didn’t look right without the shoes, and to wear shoes I needed tights, and the tights don’t fit without padding…” her hand waves in the air, indicating he should know where her rambling is going. He does.

“This makes me feel like a biological woahman.” Her hands rub down her crotch, in that exaggerated manner that is meant to be sexy. She looks goofy more than anything else.

Brian inspects the piece of clothing with detail. She’s really good at what she does. Katya is, most likely, the best drag queen he’s ever met, and he’s not afraid to admit it. She can be hot and sexy, but also funny and intelligent. There’s nothing about her that he doesn’t like, or at least not when she’s nothing but round hips and small waist, when she’s covered in nothing but a bra, a thong, and the brand new corset.

“See something you like?” The red lips turn into a kinky smirk, and just then does he realize he’s licking his lips with desire.

He wants her, he wants her so bad. He wants to see the wig bobbing as she sucks him off. He wants to see red nails digging into his flesh. He wants to have lipstick stains all across his chest, and stomach, and… He has to stop himself. He’s tired and aggravated, and doesn’t feel like starting something he won’t be able to see through.

His head is nodding before he can finish his train of thoughts. His body is answering her question without asking him permission to do so.

“Just remember, baby, what you see…” she starts out sexily, but by the time she reaches the middle of her sentence she’s full on laughing. “Isn’t always the truth.”

Despite himself, he’s laughing right along. “That stupid song - I swear!” He doesn’t have to finish his warning, the recurrent joke is here to stay, and they both know it, so there’s no fighting it.

“What-what?” She laughs, once again closing the gap between them. “Darling, I’ve got the same parts that you do.” Her words leave her mouth at the same time that long fingers circle his wrist, bringing his hand to touch between her legs. She’s not tucked, and is already getting hard for him.

His eyes widen, and his hand caresses her on its own accord. “Oh, wow,” he pushes through gritted teeth, his own arousal growing by the minute.

The small smirk turns into a full smile. “I made you pancakes for dinner but I guess we can jump straight to the dessert.” She removes his hand from herself and, before he knows it, she’s making her way up the stairs with him in tow.

Doing his best not to step on her heels, Brian follows close behind. His heartbeat is racing and he wonders if she can feel the pulse point on his wrist. His entire body is pulsing, his bottom half more than any other. His eyes are glued to the swaying movement of her ass right in front of his face. There’s an impulse to bite it, to have his teeth sinking into the tender flesh and firm muscles. He has to wait to do that, until she’s rid of all the green foam and Katya becomes Brian again.

With a swift movement, she pushes all the fabric she had been working on to the floor, leaving the bed with nothing but the fitted sheet and a few pillows on top.

“Help me take this off. I don’t wanna ruin my new creation before it even sees the stage.”

She turns around, two ribbons are gracefully laced across her back, and he untangles them with ease. One by one he pulls the silky streams from their hooks. Her breathing becomes lighter as her torso is released from the restriction of the garment. Just when he’s about to take the corset off, he discovers there’s a zipper that still holds the damn thing together.

“Oh, fuck me!” he grumbles frustratedly.

A small giggle leaves her as she looks over her shoulder, attempting to face him. “I’m trying, but I need you to take this off first.”

Her own hands snake behind herself, finding the device and struggling to get a hold of it with her long nails. He places his fingers around hers and, together, they pull it down. The stones tickle his arm as he catches the corset, but he couldn’t care less. All he sees are the indentations the material has left on her skin. He runs his fingers over the deep grooves and soon his lips follow the red paths, leaving sweet kisses. His tongue runs up and down the marks, trying to ease the pain.

“Jesus,” she exhales seductively. Partly enjoying the soothing sensation, and partly in desire.

She pushes her lower half hard against him. The sudden move throws him off balance, his back hits the wall behind him as she keeps on rubbing her ass on his crotch. He feels himself growing stiff inside his pants, she surely can’t tell, though, not with all the layers separating them. That can be taken care of. His fingers find the waistband of her tights and pull them down, bringing her shiny red thong and all the pads down with it.

And he can’t believe his luck. There’s no room in his mind to comprehend how he is worthy of dating someone so hot. Brian’s body is standing in front of him, in all its naked glory, skin covered with many tattoos; but Brian is also Katya, with a messy wig on and a full face of makeup.

“Undress.” It’s not a request, it’s a command, one that he obeys as Katya puts the just-finished outfit away, safely hanging it in the closet. Her ass, Brian’s real ass, is in full display as she walks away, and the view is even better from the front when she comes back, wearing nothing but the sparkling bra.

He makes sure to be completely naked and ready once Katya returns. Brian’s lying on the bed, his fist is closed around himself, slowly going up and down.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad night,” she says a little too nicely, verging on condescending, as she positions herself between his open legs. “Now, let me make it all better for you.”

The signs of a bottle being opened barely reach Brian’s ears, he’s too lost in the fog of desire to really make out his surroundings. That is until a finger is inserted; the cold of the lube makes him yelp, then there are heavy moans leaving his lips as a second finger goes in. He feels in full Trixie mode, loudly expressing how good it feels to have all the tensions of the night washing away.

“Look at me, baby.”

He does. Brian opens his eyes just to see Katya’s beautiful face contort in pleasure as she enters him, inch by painful inch. She’s making little whimpering noises, feeling her full woman fantasy as she thrusts deep into him. The feminine sighs only turn Brian on even more. As the signs of his orgasm start to build, he can feel all the anger and annoyance melting away. It doesn’t take long before he finds his release, screaming loudly and taking Katya right over the cliff with him.

She pulls out slowly, making him whimper at the loss of contact. Her still red lips land on his stomach, her tongue licking him clean.

“Maybe I should try on new drag more often.”

His tired body can’t do anything but let out a small, “Yes, please.”

[gucci-slut]

selca. 〠 ship.

⌠۵〠⁎𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓁 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃⁎〠۵⌡

『°♧𝔹𝕋𝕊♤°』

{☺∘𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒯𝒶𝑒𝒽𝓎𝓊𝓃𝑔∘☃}

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝: j i m i n . 

���°♧𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔼ℤ♤°』

{☺∘𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒮𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒽𝓌𝒶∘☃}

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝: h o n g j o o n g .

『°♧ℕℂ𝕋 𝟙𝟚𝟟♤°』

{☺∘𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝒯𝒶𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑔∘☃}

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝: y u t a .

『°♧𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕪 𝕂𝕚𝕕𝕤♤°』

{☺∘𝒮𝑒𝑜 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝒷𝒾𝓃∘☃}

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝: b a n g  c h a n .

∘𝑀𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽: 𝕊𝕖𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕙𝕨𝕒∘

((small look book: 1 2 3 4))

I was debating between Seonghwa and Taeyong

The reason being is you have a very  unique look and you need someone with  just a strong look as yourself

Ultimately, I felt you and Seonghwa compliment each other better

You both have very distinct looks, but despite being one-of-a-kind, both of your features actually meld beautifully

Thus, creating a very intriguing power couple

Similarly, you both have long and slender faces

Both of your cheekbones are quite prominent giving you guys a very editorial look

Plus, you both rock the natural blush look flawlessy

Your petite figure, especially your slim arms and perfect shoulders, pairs well with his broader wide shoulders

His eyes are wide, yet sharp and his eyebrows are full and usually angled

These aspects are what I feel make Seonghwa a very unique looking individual

Plus, his nose is long and prominent which gives him a classic look

He automatically pops from any crowd, and so do you

You contrast him, but compliment the features he does not possess

You have a low nose bridge which is lovely in high fashion

Your eyes are big and bright, they’re very doe-like

Your eyebrows are full, but soft

And your lips are round and plump, seriously they are perfect

Which contrast his more sculpted thinner lips

Your lips and shoulders would be Seonghwa’s favorite physical features about you

Seonghwa also loves how you paint your face

He can stare for hours

Not to mention, I can definitely see you guys coordinating in makeup looks

Blonde Seonghwa, particularly when his bangs are present, would look absolutely adorable next to you

It is a lovely contrast next to your vibrant, short and fluffy hair

Speaking of, besides makeup, I could also see you guys coordinating in hair color

You are a really great height for him

You are short enough that you fit in his arms perfectly

But, you’re also tall enough for him that his back doesn’t hurt when you two kiss standing up

((height compared visually here))

People would've never thought of seeing you guys together

Physically, they thought you guys are from different worlds

But because you both are from different worlds, it’s why you guys look fascinating together

People always keep an eye on you guys

They are curious to see what new look you will both trendset together

A relationship with Seonghwa will be like a romance book come to life

His dedication is always at 100%

There will be no other person in his life romantically, but you

Expect him to be incredibly loyal even to a point where he does not even bat an eye at someone else

He is also very gentleman-like with you

Holding the car door for you? Carrying any bags you have? Walking you home even though you live far away? Check, all of it and more

In dates, he will always pay attention to you

Rarely will he even look at his phone

Speaking of dates, he will definitely take you to expensive restaurants and fancy art galleries

He is also the boyfriend to go constantly shopping with you

Mostly because he will always have matching outfit ideas he will want to do

PDA will definitely not be the biggest thing in your relationship

I feel he is quite shy in front of others to show you off in that manner

You’ve enchanted him like no one else has

This is a very, very late ship for @bluegirlmeets​​. I am so incredibly sorry for how late this ship is. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it. I hope you and your family are doing well. You are a kind individual! Please have a lovely day! - 𝓐.𝓡.

[dolanswhore]

Body!guard gray au - Part 1.

➸ Grayson Dolan  body guard AU ||  A few words before you start to read:  This story is will not be your usually fluff story but with a romantic twist but is highly suggested for mature audiences. This story will contain sexuality, language, violence, death and mature themes. Read at your own risk and only if you are comfortable All of this work are my ideas, and I have put a lot of hard work and dedicated my time for this story.  Thank you ! tag info at end

Summary: Y/N’s father would do anything to protect his little girl. This includes having his little girl in the hands of a man. Grayson Dolan. This faces many challenges since her father the drug lord of the state has no shortage of enemies. But what happens when Grayson finally finds love? but has to push his feelings away to protect her at all costs!

The air was filled with a thick gray smoke that clouded her throat. The particles of what was destroyed only minutes ago by the bomb that went off covered everyone in suit and blood. The room was chaos, bodies of dead and injured cover the ground. Y/N’s ears rang the only sound heard was the pounding of her heart, ear stinging with pain, her eyes met the people screaming and crying in pain but it wasn’t heard. Chest tightening with every breath taken, blood stained her body to the point she couldn’t tell if it was hers or someone around her. Her father was by her side in seconds seeing he was in the hall when the bomb exploded, tears filling his eyes seeing his daughter covered in blood, sound seemed nonexistent to her as well as he begged her to talk but she couldn’t hear.

The deep breath filled her lungs as they begged for air, she lifts herself against the bed supporting herself with her elbows looking around the room for any signs of a threat. This happened two days ago even though her hearing had came back the paranoid stayed, it haunted her, it didn’t matter where she went it was always there. It was hard to live your live knowing someone wanted you dead. 

“Honey are you okay?” Her father asked through the door as calm as he could. He was worried for his daughter’s safety. It was no surprise he had another enemy, in his line of work it was usual but never had any gone after his daughter, and now these nightmares she would get, all hours of the night filled with screams and sadness.

“I’m fine dad, it was just a dream i know that.” Her answer is what he expected always trying to be so strong for everyone but herself.

“I expect you downstairs in an hour. I have something to tell you.” He avoided telling her right know dismissing any future conflict for the moment. All hell would break loose the moment it would be said therefore he will wait until a crowd of people were around them.

The time seemed as if it was punishing her, with every minute passing slowly all she thought of was the body’s of the dead, the blood that painted the walls and herself. Her father had told her endlessly over these few days not to blame herself. How couldn’t she? It was her 19th birthday bash, filled with her closest family and friends. She killed them it was her fault all because she wanted to have a stupid party.

There was no escaping the feeling, every time she tried the imagines subconsciously flashed her eyes. She would never get the sound of the bomb. The atomic sound shaking the ground as a mix of yellow and red fill the air. Her legs shake as she steadily moved to sit on her bed. She is weak not only emotionally but physically. Two days still held tension in her muscles, the deep pain reminding her of her skins every time she tried to move. 

The shower was painful but relaxing at the same time. Even though it hurt ever time she moved the hot water relaxed her aches and gave a comforting warmth she needed. She didn’t bother brushing her hair only throwing it into a messy bun and dressed in a pair of fuzzy shorts and a tank top. By the time she got down stairs breakfast was already served, the long table filled with an aray of food from pancakes, eggs to muffins.

“Is someone else here?” She pipes up taking a seat next to her father. He clears his throat with a nod. “Honey I don’t want you to freak out okay?”

“Why woul -.” No voice cut her off but instead the imagine of a tanned, muscular man dressed in a black suit tailored to fit over his figure. The sleeves were a little tight showing the swells of his arm, his chest bulging through the thin material of his white shirt and it didn’t help that the blazer was only buttoned under the hardness of his chest. He nodded with no smile, his lips were a pinkish color she had never seen before, eyes light with hints of brown and green, his cheeks and jaw peppered with a beard. This man was for a fact sculpted by god himself.

“Sir.” He nods at her father and then at her. “Ma’am” He made sure to get a greeting from the both of them before taking his place across the table from Y/N. He was so elegant laying a napkin over his lap before taking a small sip of his water. 

“Uhh.. who is this?” The mysterious man’s handsome dimple is still shown despite the hair that covered it but didn’t speak one word.

“It’s Grayson.” Wait what? The little boy who she spent most of her childhood with that would pick his nose on a daily? This wasn’t the awkward boy she remembered finding in the alley years ago. He was a man now, no like actually a grown man with muscles and didn’t look like he picked his nose anymore?

“Wait really?” She smiles sweetly at him and then her father. It had been years since last seeing him. On her 7th birthday, and Gray being 9 her father thought it was time to send him away much like he was by his own father. You see Gray was always seen to her father as his own son.. and little did anyone know Gray was planned to be his assessor as well seeing he never did father a son.

Grayson didn’t even brother to look at her, eyes meeting your father despite how much he did want to take peak, he’s only heard stories of her beauty. The moment he did look up it was a regret as he couldn’t seem to move his eyes from her, she was easily the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, despite the bruises and cuts that covered her face. Her neck on display showing the little burn that could easily be hid by her hair but she could care less.

“Now I have business to discuss with you honey.” Y/N full attention was adverted to her father especially since the tone of his voice was one she hasn’t heard in years. Her father often tried his best to keep her out of the bad aspects that come with being a known crime lord. “You’re going away for a bit, after what happened I think it’s best.”

“What?!” She chokes on her orange juice as the words finally take realization. Her father’s expression said it all, it wasn’t up for debate it had to be done.

“I don’t want attitude or any faces. I cannot have what happened to you happen again. You are all I have left, and i will protect you until my last breath. That’s why Grayson is here, he’s here to protect you.” Her father’s hand met the table with a loud bang of frustration which was usual with his short temper. 

“You want Grayson to protect me but he didn’t even bother to look at me or even talk to me!” Feet met the cold wooden floor underneath her feet, suddenly she felt sick, food was no longer an option as the feeling deep inside her stomach wouldn’t allow it.

Grayson didn’t bother to defend himself but it was true, but instead meet her stare, lips tight in a line. “Happy I looked at you?”

A scoff fell from her lips as her father rose to his feet. “You are leaving today, and you will go pack now. End of discussion. Go to your room and pack what you need.”

Y/n knew better then to argue with her father at the moment, no matter what she said or do she would never get her way. Her father will have Grayson drag her into the car if she didn’t agree. In seconds she was in her room, slamming the door with such power the walls shook. The tears were instant as she fell to the bed. She was afraid for her life it was true, ever since that day it haunts her. The constant paranoia of thinking something will just blow her to pieces, even as innocent as her best friend coming over. At this point trusting someone was impossible, and if someone really wanted her dead, everyone has a price.

After many tired hours of packing, the constant lifting and moving made her body twitch in soreness still not recovered from the injuries suffered two days ago. The rough, pounding knock against the door made her jump as fear it was happening again. “Ma’am, It’s time to go.”

“Why do you keep calling me Ma’am?” She grumbles opening the door to see Grayson. His stance professional, back straight, hands cross in front of him on his lap with his ear piece slightly tangled against his collar. “I’m not 30 years old.”

“I work for your father, who is your family, therefore I work for you Ma’am.” His answer was clear as he stepped past her to the packed suitcases that laid on the bed. Easily the bags she couldn’t even move were lifted by each of his hands. The brutal strength this man held was shown as he swiftly moved to the hallway, “Meet you at the car in 5 Ma’am.”

Quickly slipping on a pair of converse and a pull over hoodie she stopped to look around her room one last time before leaving it behind for an indefinite unknown amount of time. The car was like all the other her father’s men drove, a black Range Rover with tinted out windows. 

“I don’t need you to get my bags.” She speaks with poison as Gray opens the trunk of the car. He ignores her at first until a small smirk plays his lips, “Don’t worry I got them ma’am.”

Instantly her blood began to boil causing her cheeks to grow red with anger. “You look a little hot, are you okay Ma’am?”

The shit eating grin he possessed didn’t help but her father stopped any words she was about to say by bringing her into his arms. “Grayson will call me when you are somewhere safe, I love you. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have to.”

Despite wanting to stay mad at him for making her endure this, she knew her father was just trying to keep her safe and this was the only way he knew. “I love you too daddy.”

Grayson opened her door signalling it was time to leave and the worst part with him. With one last look to her father she did what was expected. Grayson was right behind her starting the engine with ease but he didn’t move only looked her way. “Seat belt.”

“I never wear my seat belt, I’m not starting now.” 

“As long as I am in charge of you, you’re wearing your seat belt. Put it on.” Grayson’s tone was firm but she didn’t care as she popped in her head phones without a words. Grayson reaches over swiftly to reach the belt, the sweet smell of his cologne making it harder to ignore him, with his face so close to hers it was impossible not to examine the soft skin in front of her. His brown eyes harsh but with a face so handsome it was impossible to actually stay mad. In seconds the seat belt was buckled and tightened with a pull.

After what seemed like hours of driving she found herself out of music to listen to and actually hoping Grayson would say something. 

“I have to pee.”

Nothing is said, Grayson’s eyes remain on the road in front of him on high alert with the cars around them.

“I have to pee.” Once again nothing, only the tightening of his knuckles around the steering wheel. 

“I said I have to pee!” It was said loud enough for him to hear for sure now as he snaps his head in her direction.

“I fucking heard you. We will stop when we reach the check point destination.” Grayson grumbles with whitening knuckles. 

“I guess I’ll just pee in this car. The smell of piss won’t bother me.” She argues loudly, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

“I am not your father, I will not deal with you being a brat. You’re 18 Y/N grow up. We will stop when I’m good and ready to.” She didn’t bother talking to rest of the trip, even though she thought it would only piss him off more, she really didn’t feel like fighting. 

Finally after a few more hours Grayson had stopped, it was a small cafe but smelt delicious, she didn’t realize how hungry she was until her stomach started growling at the thought of food. Her door opened swiftly by Grayson which signaled it was safe to come out. What she didn’t realize is how stiff her legs would be from sitting for hours not to mention the explosion, she lost her footing but Grayson was there to catch her with his big, muscular arms. 

She didn’t bother to say thank you, or to even look at him before walking past him. At this point the least amount of conformation with him the better. There was no getting away from him as he was already in front of her with some quick strides opening the door. They were greeted right away with a smile. “table for two?”

Before a word could even get out Grayson was answering her. “Yes, do you have one away from any windows?”

It was an odd request but the waitress nodded. “of course sir.” 

Grayson seemed to approve of the seating as he was the first to sit down in the booth. No words were exchanged between the two as their order were placed. 

“Do you want to talk to your father?”

“No.” It was the truth, at the moment she didn’t want to talk to her father, she was still mad at him.

“Everyone keeps looking at your bruises.” He mumbles, “They probably think I did it to you.” It made her scoff, hearing the words come from Grayson’s mouth. She kind of hoped they thought it was him, that they thought of him as lesser because that is truly what he acted like.

“Or maybe it’s that you have an ear piece on in the middle of a restaurant.” Grayson chose to ignore her snarky remark, “It’s sad though I would never harm something so beautiful.”

She was stunned at his words and utterly confused at first he doesn’t even want to talk and is bluntly rude but now calls her beautiful? Choosing to ignore him she rises to her feet to use the bathroom. Grayson’s eyes watch her from the moment she left the table until entering the girl’s room. 

Surprisingly Grayson wasn’t at the booth from what she could see as she exited the bathroom. Shots ran out in the ear making her ears vibrate with the closeness along with the screaming on people as she felt a hand push her against the wall. A man dressed in black, that wasn’t grayson pulled her towards the exit but failed miserably as the piles of people pushed to get away from the shooter. Y/N screams loudly, pushing against the attackers chest as another shot ran out. Everything is a blur but the only sight she could make out was Grayson shooting another man dressed in all black. 

“Grayson!” She didn’t understand why she was calling his name out in the face of danger but just knew he would die to protect her.

cliffff hanger, sorry guys haha! I will be accepting tags but will only take them with the comment below! if you message me or send it as an ask i will not accept it!!

[collective-laugh]

Detective AU - Muriel x MC Chapter 4

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Taglist:  @a-zoidberg-aesthetic @lesbiancountess @fartkittyonline @yaysam @y-all-dnt-ve @countgoatman-and-drleechboy @julians-chest-hair @vesuviass @caterpiller-tea @zaemoultrie75901 @saltywerewolfrebel @obsessedwiththearcana @thatsaltyseaman @xburningwitch @i-dont-speak-wolf @missrabbitart @softarcana

This chapter was highly inspired by ‘Private Investigations’ by the Dire Straits. @dr-devorak-will-seeyounow introduced me, and it fit the vibe, and I fell in love! I recommend listening while reading!

Also, please let me know if you would like me to put together some sort of playlist/mood music! I’ve done this before on AO3, and it really seems to help!

Thank you to everyone who has made this series such a success, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have! Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Chapter Four: Private Investigations

“You’re looking more miserable than usual, Muriel.” Ludovico leans against the handrail to the back entrance of the Raven, “Which is a feat, considering you always look miserable.”

Muriel lets the cigarette dangle from his lips, still worried about her, hoping that Julian got her back home safely, that he didn’t try anything…

If he found out he so much as laid a hand on her, he’d fucking kill him.

He didn’t really know why he cared so much, and he knew the doctor well enough to know he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything...sober.

“‘m tired.” Muriel claims, and though it’s a half truth, he wished he wasn’t so transparent, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ludovico smirks at him, tossing his cigarette butt out in the rain, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the little broad you walked in with, huh?”

“No.” He answers a little too quickly, a little too sharply.

He raises his eyebrows, unused to Muriel being anything other than quietly benign, and asks, “Who was she anyway?”

Muriel knew it was none of his business, but he didn’t mind Ludovico, and it didn’t hurt to talk to someone, he guessed. That was always Asra’s advice - “feelings” and “talking” and all that bullshit.

“You wanna, ah,” He waggles his eyebrows, “make whoopee with her?”

Never mind.

Muriel rolls his eyes, smashing his cigarette on the hand rail. Trying to talk to people was shit, and definitely something he didn’t want to make a habit.

“She’s a friend.” He claims, which...isn’t a lie. He’s known her for years now, and knows more about her than he probably ought to, considering just how little they talked. Asra liked to talk about her to no end, sparing no detail about just how much he missed her.

He hopes she’s gotten home safely, that she’s managed to fall asleep so she doesn’t muck up her interview with the Countess later.

The Countess...he could hardly believe that the Countess of Vesuvia herself had resorted to a backwater private detective, no offense to her or Asra. She held no real title outside of being insanely rich and being the former wife of the most prominent crime boss in the city.

Lucio sickened Muriel. The thought of him made him sneer again, and the mere idea that someone could pull the right strings and make the right deals with the right people, and all his problems, all the sick shit he did, could just disappear.

“A friend, huh? Well, the last friend I had like that ended up in my bed, compadre.” Ludovico raises his brow, his sleazy intentions obvious, “You could always give her my number if she doesn’t have someone waitin’ for her at home.”

He was about to say she did, that there was Asra or maybe even Julian waiting for her back at the office, that she wasn’t going to be in that dank little hole all on her own.

Maybe it was selfish. It was definitely selfish to want to be the one waiting for her.

He curses himself, wondering when the hell he started considering her as anything more than an acquaintance he kept at arms’ length. He’s itching for another cigarette, especially as he’s facing the stupid grin on Ludovico’s face. Instead of lighting another, he’s looking at the watch on his wrist. It was a quarter past five, which meant he was free to go.

“Maybe.” He says, trying not to sound so cryptic, but, like Asra said, it was a second nature to him.

He debates stopping back by the office. He’d sent Jules home with her around midnight, and he did want to make sure she was alright. But, something she said to him earlier stuck out like a sore thumb, something about how she could walk herself home.

She was still a grown woman, even if she couldn’t really remember who she was, and he wasn’t certain she’d be all too thrilled about his breathing down her neck.

He does light a cigarette, with Ludovico yelling something crude about her after him, and he shuts his eyes for just a moment, trying to steady himself. It had been a long night, and he was so tired, but he needed to check on her, to make sure she got home alright…

The nagging voice in his head telling him to leave her be wins, despite his instincts screaming at him to do otherwise. He walks the opposite direction, straight back home.

His place is small, modest, and...decidedly not comfortable. The landlord insisted on no pets, but as soon as she saw Muriel, she made an exception, considering she claimed, “ruffians’ll go running soon as they see you, boy!” He couldn’t live anywhere without Inanna, he knows, and was thankful to the lady - Nonna Linka, as she insisted on being called - for letting him stay.

She wasn’t up yet, like anyone with sense, so he’s alone on his trek up the single flight of stairs. He isn’t surprised to find his door unlocked, considering the damn thing had been broken for months now, and all but collapses in bed alongside Inanna.

He dreams of her, of happier times, and wishes things were simpler than he made them out to be.

_

She’s scrambling to get dressed.

It’s embarrassing; the first time in months she’s had a case, and actual, honest to God interview with a client, and she’s running around like a headless chicken trying to gather everything she needed. Asra would have been no better, she knew, waiting until the last minute for everything, but she refuses to think of him now, today, at least until she’s gotten this interview over with.

It was a murder case. Not only a murder case, but a case surrounding the Lucio Morgason. It was more than she ever could have asked for, and she was squandering it because she could quite reach the button on her dress.

Once she’s certain she’s gathered everything - and certain that she’s forgotten at least one thing - she’s out the door, only half remembering to lock it and turn the tacky neon signs off. She only barely catches the train to the Heart District, and knows she must look a mess.

A gorgeous socialite looks at her, all legs and brown hair tied up in some elaborate braid, lips painted a red far too improper for the time of day, and arches a perfectly sculpted brow, as if the very sight of her was amusing.

It was enough to send her blood boiling, and remind her exactly what she was here for.

Nadia’s house - estate, mansion, whatever - is only a seven minute walk and a four minute run from the train station, and she makes it with five minutes to spare before she was considered tardy. It takes two minutes to have her looking presentable again, another three to even reach the door and be led inside by a butler - butler! - one to have her coat taken, and another seven before she even sees Nadia.

She’s the picture of perfection, and puts that socialite from the train to shame, effortlessly beautiful with her long, black hair, and long, golden dress. She greets her gracefully, as she does all things, and ensures that they’re alone, beginning the interview in Lucio’s private library, sitting across from one another.

“Can you tell me about the last time you saw your husband?” She asks, subtly looking over to the tape recorder to ensure that it was getting all of this. Her hand stood ready, just in case Nadia said anything important, and she settles into detective mode, trying to calm herself.

“I…” Nadia wrings her hands, eyeing the white gloves she set aside moments before, as if she was debating whether or not she really wanted to hold them. “I don’t remember my husband. The accident…” She shrugs, looking everywhere but at the detective, “I didn’t know where else to turn, detective. The law is thankful he’s dead, and his ‘friends’ are starting to call for my removal.”

“Removal?” She asks, “Removal from what?”

“I’ve been acting as an interim...boss, I suppose.” She finally meets her eyes, “You must understand, detective. This city isn’t kind to us.”

Truer words had never been spoken, but she only purses her lips before asking, “Is there anyone who might have wanted to hurt your husband? Anyone he had any bad blood with?”

“He was not known for his...subtlety.” Nadia hesitates, as if the gravity of the situation was just catching up to her, “Detective, you must know that I’m willing to pay you handsomely for your services. And that the law is not to know of this.” She says it with such vindication, with such authority, that the detective feels like she has to listen.

“Don’t worry about that.” She replies, thankful her voice didn’t betray her nerves, “This conversation will only ever be heard by you, me, and my associate.”

“Asra?” Nadia inquires, like she was quizzing herself to see if she could remember his name.

The detective nods, but moves on, “Did your husband have any enemies?”

Nadia purses her lips, eyes flicking over to the tape recorder before pulling a small notepad from between the chair and its cushion, sliding it across the table toward Nadia, “I, um...I compiled a short list of people it could possibly be, or people who might have wanted him dead.”

The detective flicks through the pages, though the only writing found inside is on the first and second slips of paper. “Consul Valerius…Vulgora...these are his associates, right?”

Nadia opens her mouth to say something, closes it, and shakes her head, “They are...suspicious at the very least.”

The detective purses her lips.

This was going to be a long interview.

[fffartonceaweek]

It’s A Matter of Character

by Susan Saxe

Lets get this out of the way. The CNN moderators of the January 14th Democratic Primary Debate were abominable, manipulative and shamefully unprofessional, asking idiotic questions and flaunting their biases like a Slovenian escort’s well-sculpted buns. Giddy with the thought of provoking fights between two progressives whom they despise almost equally, they had at it, fanning the flames of a manufactured controversy that never should have been handed to them in the first place.

And let’s get something else out of the way. I don’t work for the Sanders campaign, and I certainly don’t speak for it. They have their strategy and will deal with this situation as they see fit. I’m just exercising my right to call it as I see it.

Ok, so now let’s deal with the calls to dismiss this whole thing as a mere “misunderstanding” so as to not let the media divide the progressive wing of the Democratic party. I wish, but sorry, that ship sailed on Tuesday night and we are not longer in control of it.

The corporations that run our national media (and don’t want to have their monopolies broken up or their political ad revenue reduced) are only too happy to watch the two candidates they hate and fear most taking off the gloves and having a go at each other. They didn’t start the fire but they will fan the flames until someone throws a bucket of water on this mess. That means someone is going to have to back down, and IMHO it ought to be the one who threw the match on what she should have known was a kerosene-soaked shit bomb.

You don’t believe it? Just watch. The media have what they want and they will keep it alive, keep digging, keep drawing in new combatants and keep forcing the person who started it to double down on her baseless accusation. Unfortunately, she’s painted herself into a corner on this one and the only way out is to admit that she was wrong, apologize and fire whoever put her up to it. But she won’t because she can’t at this point. And the longer this goes on, the more she will dig herself in, embroider on it and drive a wedge into the only coalition capable of capturing the Democratic nomination and then the White House. It is deeply, deeply unfortunate.

Probably the best thing both Sanders and Warren can do is to continue to refuse to talk about it, dismiss it as a misunderstanding or a tempest in a teapot that the media is flogging for ratings, reassert their agreements and friendship and pivot to issues. It would be better if their surrogates did the same thing. (Reminder: I’m an independent, radical blogger, not a surrogate for Democrats of any stripe, but if I do volunteer to make calls, write postcards or canvass for anyone, I’ll stick to the script.) Maybe it will help. I hope so.

I wish, as I am sure most progressives do, that this would go away, that it could honestly be dismissed as a misunderstanding, a misremembering of nuance, a different take on a perfectly reasonable, amicable discussion of how a vile, misogynistic, racist, xenophobic, pathological liar could logically be expected to use sexism against any woman opponent. That is very likely the conversation that did take place. But there are too many improbable hoops I would have to jump through to believe that Liz Warren’s accusation is based on a misunderstanding. So let’s look at some of them.

It is curious, to say the least, that this “misunderstanding” only surfaced two years after the conversation, on the eve of a major debate and the first, crucial primary contest, with one candidate surging and the other sliding in the polls.

It is curious, to say the least, that it emerged through four anonymous sources who were not in the room and could have only gotten their information from the one and only other person in the room.

It is curious, to say the least, that these sources, obviously close to the candidate, then “leaked” it without her knowledge to a major media source, one known to be openly and rabidly hostile to the candidate who is pulling ahead of her in the polls.

But the piece that clinches it for me is how utterly impossible it would be to “misunderstand” a lifelong champion of women’s rights, someone you claim as a friend; a man who is on record as stating clearly for decades that a woman can and should be president; a man with a decades long record of never accepting that what is right should be “impossible” but instead fighting to make it reality; a man who stood aside, deferred to YOU and and pleaded with YOU to run for president in 2015 as a progressive, and who only stepped up when you refused; a man who, after the nomination was stolen from him, and after you refused to endorse him, but instead turned around and endorsed a neoliberal warmonger who happens to have a uterus, nevertheless fought harder than either of you to elect her the first woman president.

How the hell do you know all that, call yourself a “friend” and them “mishear” him say something that is so completely absurd and out of character? And what did you mean to accomplish by dropping this grenade now?

Primaries are not only about ideas; they are also about character. And someone’s character has (once again) been shown to be lacking.

Just to be clear, I’ve been a fan of Liz since she came onto the national scene. I like a lot of her ideas and I want to like her. I desperately want two progressive giants tag-teaming on the debate stage, making the case for progressive policies. I want them to capture between them the 50%+1 votes that one of them will need to win the nomination on the first vote and I want there to be enough trust and good will between them and their supporters that whoever goes to the convention with fewer delegates will do the right thing by releasing their delegates to capture the nomination for their friend and fellow progressive, keep the superdelegates from rigging a brokered convention and bring us to victory in the 2020 general election.

There is only one candidate who I would trust to have that level of integrity, love and self sacrifice. But he is the one who will go into the convention with the far more delegates and the best chance of beating the orange fascist. The fate of the world might literally come to depend on Liz Warren’s character and whether she will do the right thing or play a lethal game of chicken, leveraging her delegates for a political plum, splitting the progressive wing of the party and throwing the convention to the superdelegates, hoping for the VP slot under a neoliberal tool who will lose.

Today that thought makes me sick with fear.

also : 

[sapphicscholar]

A/N: It should be pretty obvious as the timeline gets clearer over the chapters, but I've aged up most of the main cast to make their career trajectories fit

Big thanks to @performativezippers for ALL the delightful title suggestions (seriously, 10/10, A+ all around, even the ones that didn’t make the cut). And thank you to @lurkz for listening to me dork out about politics and giving a first read through! 

Chapter Text:

“As much as I have appreciated your support and enthusiasm—and believe me, I have. You are the ones who made this experience possible, who inspired me to get out there day in and day out—I will be suspending my campaign for the time being,” Cat Grant announced. A hush fell over the room full of once rowdy and boisterous supporters, though after a moment of stunned silence, the room filled once more with shouts and questions and pleas to stay in the race. But Cat was already making her way off the stage and out to her waiting car, directing a few members of her team to stay behind and field questions, even if it just meant giving them vague pleasantries and the always frustrating reply of: “She has no comment at this time,” which was all the more frustrating because she did have a comment. Dammit, she was Cat Grant; she had a thousand and one perfectly worded comments. But each one of them would mean putting Kara in danger, so she kept quiet—a sacrifice she would willingly make again and again.

[4 months ago, October]

“Oh, and get Kara on the phone for tomorrow,” Cat added, drumming her perfectly manicured nails against the top of her desk, her mind whirring as she thought through her plan.

“Kara…?” Eve trailed off, a question in her voice that she wasn’t quite brave enough to voice as such.

“Danvers,” James cut in, earning himself a rare smile from Cat. “I’ll get you her personal email in a few.”

“That will be all.” With a flick of her wrist, Cat dismissed the group of core campaign staff that had gathered in her office for their weekly Monday morning briefing. When she looked up, however, she found James still lingering in her office. “What is it?”

“I—why are you calling Kara in?”

“Because I’d just love to know where she finds those poly-blend tartan skirts and clashing, kindergarten teacher cardigans—would really hammer home my message next debate, I think.” Her wit was as scathing as ever; apparently no amount of shaking hands and smiling and kissing babies would ever change some things.

“I mean, are you interviewing her for something?” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his friend succeeding—and surely, after last night’s debate performance, being a part of Cat Grant’s team would be seen as success—but he’d been there for the fallout after the last campaign, after the last time Cat left Kara behind.

Leveling him with a glare that would have sent most of her staff scurrying, Cat snapped, “I don’t pay you to question my decisions.”

“Sorry,” James muttered, turning on his heel and striding out of the office and over to Eve’s desk, figuring the least he could do was to make sure that Kara at least received the invitation. Whether or not she accepted was her decision to make.

Once he finished helping Eve, he slipped down the hallway and knocked lightly on the door to Lucy’s office. Even though she wasn’t in the inner circle the way she had been during Cat’s years in office as governor, she still tended to know gossip before almost everyone.

“Yeah?” Lucy called out.

“Hey,” James greeted, sticking his head in the doorway. “You free?”

“I’ll head out,” Alex offered, pushing up off of the desk and pulling herself back to a standing position.

“You’re just as much a part of this campaign as anyone else,” Lucy corrected her, gesturing for Alex to sit—though perhaps in a real chair this time.

Alex shrugged; she hadn’t gotten used to the idea of working full time for one single candidate. After nearly a decade of work based out of the DEO’s offices and constantly flying from city to city to help put out fires and manage crises as they arose, she was still working on learning what it meant to pledge loyalty to a person, rather than to J’onn and the DEO. Of course, he’d encouraged her, told her she could hold onto her DEO affiliation—it looked good for them, after all, and he wanted to claim credit for the work of his protégé—but she missed working at his side.

“You are,” James insisted, smiling warmly and taking the seat beside her as he nudged the door shut with his foot. Though, now that he thought about it, perhaps Alex wasn’t the best person to tell about Kara… She might be on Cat’s payroll, but her willingness to sever ties with clients who violated her rather strict personal codes—almost all of which seemed to revolve around the small handful of people she deemed worthy of her protection—was legendary throughout DC.

“So what do you need to know?”

“I could have just dropped in to say hello, Luce.” She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him and crossed her arms until he relented. “Okay, yes, fine. What do you know about…uh, tomorrow’s phone meeting?”

“What meeting?”

“Lucy Lane, not in on the gossip?” Alex looked genuinely astounded. Even though she was basically paid to know all the dirty details that never made it into the papers if she did her job right, Lucy often managed to be one step ahead of her when it came to the inner workings of Cat’s office.

“Hush, I still knew that Eve was sleeping with the new volunteer coordinator before they’d even stumbled out of the supply closet.”

Alex shuddered. “He was a walking, talking time bomb of a scandal.”

“And that’s why you had Cat fire him.”

“Among other reasons.”

Lucy snorted at the memory of Alex’s face when Mike had tried to hit on one of the new volunteers in front of her. The loud reaming out he got from Alex about abuses of power and inappropriate behavior in the workplace had been worth the meeting she’d been forced to have with the woman about why threatening physical violence against staff members, even those on their way out, was decidedly not a good idea from a legal perspective.

Remembering how they had gotten here, Lucy turned her attention back to James. “What’s this about a mysterious meeting?”

“Oh, uh…” James hesitated, casting a wary eye in Alex’s direction.

“If a scandal is brewing, it’s best I know about it now.”

“No, nothing like that. Cat asked Eve to set up a phone meeting with Kara.”

“As in my sister Kara?”

“That would be the one.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes, running through the possibilities for why she might want to talk to Kara. “Think she’s gonna try to get her on the campaign team? They worked pretty well together back when she made her run for governor…”

“Once she started calling her by her actual name,” Alex huffed.

“Would Kara even consider it?” James asked, looking more to Alex than Lucy. Sure, Lucy had gotten to know Kara since coming back to DC with Cat to stay on as her legal advisor after their four years in Sacramento, but she hadn’t been there the first time Cat left.

Alex shrugged. “She’s gotten older.”

“But I’ve never seen her that upset.” She’d shown up at James’ apartment the week after the election, tears streaking down her cheeks and unwilling to even talk about what had happened until she’d finished her first pint of Half Baked. Eventually she told him about how Cat had called her into her office only to offer her a glowing letter of recommendation for whatever job she wanted next. To anyone else, that would have been ideal, but Kara had expected to keep working with Cat, to be invited to come with her to Sacramento from National City. He still wasn’t sure exactly why she’d been as devastated as she was, but eventually she called in the promised recommendation and moved across the country to DC where she took up a post as a high-ranking congressional staffer.

“She made the best of it—got her foot in the door, and look at how well she’s done for herself since. I’m not saying Cat deserves to get her back, but I’m not about to dictate what Kara can and can’t do,” Alex said.

“That’s not what I’m saying, I just…” James trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I don’t want to see her get hurt again.”

“I think she’s been in this town long enough to hope for the best but not really to expect it anymore.” Watching Kara lose some of the optimism that she had clung to since childhood—her persistent belief that there had to be some greater purpose in all of it—had been painful, but Alex was glad to see a bit of realism infused into her perspective, even if she still had a tendency to buy into the relentless idealism of candidates that Alex had a hard time stomaching.

“I hope so.”

As the conversation turned to lighter topics—namely, Winn’s terrible blind date the night before that James had the good fortune of hearing all about on their metro ride in that morning—Alex’s phone trilled with a loud alarm.

Lucy cringed. “Christ, Alex, not everything is a crisis anymore. Maybe you turn that volume down.”

“I’m still a crisis manager.”

“No, I wrote your contract. I know for a fact that you are a ‘political consultant.’”

“Speaking of which,” Alex sighed, looking at the meeting reminder on her phone, “I’ve got to go meet with the research team.”

“Cheer up. When you’re done, you’ll be an hour closer to happy hour.”

Grumbling about unnecessary meetings and interaction with other people, Alex straightened her blazer and wandered down the hallways she was still learning to navigate until she found the smaller conference room Cat preferred for meetings. A handful of people, only some of whom she recognized, had already found their seats at the table and pulled out papers or opened laptops to spreadsheets and documents. Fighting the urge to run back for something to use as a prop, Alex reminded herself that she had prepared, that her job wasn’t the same as theirs and she was damn good at what she did. No one trained under J’onn for as long as she had and came out of it unqualified.

The telltale click of heels alerted everyone in the room to Cat’s approach just a moment or two before she strolled in, phone clutched in one hand and a latte in the other. “You’re all here?” It wasn’t really a question, at least not one anyone would dare answer in the negative. “We’ll start with the topics we’ve gotten traction on since last night’s debate. Education—go.”

“Ah right.” A young man Alex was fairly certain was named Rob adjusted his glasses as he shuffled his papers. “You got some really positive op-eds in the Times—LA and New York, a real coast-to-coast marvel,” he clarified with a small chuckle at his own remarks. It was nerdy enough that Alex smiled. “The Daily Planet was a bit more neutral, but no overt criticism.”

“No surprise there,” Cat drawled.

“You’ve got a few religious lobbying groups that are upset that you dismissed school vouchers, but no one in the party base would really expect you to say otherwise unless you were in Philly or Boston or one of those cities that’s Catholic enough that people identify themselves by parish.” Cat didn’t seem upset, though she jotted down a few notes. “And there’s been some talk about support for you coming from the Silicon Valley start ups—keep talking about increased funding for STEM education, and we might get a couple early campaign endorsements.”

“Any follow up?” Cat asked, looking out at everyone else, especially Alex. When there were no takers, she quickly checked off education and moved to the next item—she was nothing if not efficient.

By the time they made it to international affairs, Alex felt like she had a handle on how these meetings might go. Informed updates. A follow up question or two, especially when Cat wasn’t satisfied. Sometimes orders about new research to be undertaken—polls, reports, and the like. And then on to the next one. But when Kelly wrapped up her presentation on foreign affairs, Cat’s offer for further commentary wasn’t met with its customary silence. Instead another woman, one Alex didn’t recognize, cleared her throat and leaned in to the table.

“When asked about aid and disaster relief, you didn’t touch on some of the most prominent humanitarian crises. Look at Venezuela, Yemen, Syria. You barely touched on immigration and failed to offer any statements on your policies about refugees and asylum seekers.”

“Because it’s a political landmine,” Alex interjected. “Offering anything concrete this early when public opinion is as volatile as it has been on those issues would be a horrible idea.”

“Speaking up now would set us apart as the campaign finally talking about these topics, the campaign that doesn’t just offer vague platitudes about respecting human rights but actually gives concrete policies and solutions.”

“So that they can be brought up and derided and criticized by every single other candidate who was smart enough not to go specific this early in the game?”

“So that the young voters who care about these topics more than almost any other generation will show up for us.”

“They don’t outnumber the Baby Boomers and Gen Xers who won’t get behind a progressivism that starts spouting things about open borders with little to no security.”

“So you don’t care about everyone dying? Because that’s what those young people you’re so quick to dismiss will say, and they’ve been building grassroots organizations that have more reach than you care to admit.”

“I’m not paid to talk about things I care about; I’m paid to get Cat Grant elected president. As are you. You might want to start acting like it.”

“Ladies, ladies,” Cat cut in, looking mildly intrigued rather than simply annoyed. “I appreciate the passion, but let’s move some of these discussions to later strategy meetings.” Alex slumped back into her seat, resigned to dealing with the other woman’s frustratingly naïve idealism later. “Now, Maggie, how’d we do on human rights and advocacy issues—setting aside questions of international crises for now, please,” she added with a tinge of exasperation in her voice.

“Right.” The woman—Maggie—had the decency to look chagrined at least, Alex thought. She paid close attention as she spoke, finding herself almost disappointed at how thorough she had been, pulling sources from both sides of the aisle as she went through a rather comprehensive list of issues. When Cat asked for questions, Alex realized she had none.

“Before we adjourn, anything to add? Alex?” Cat peered over her glasses and down the table to where Alex had settled herself at the opposite end.

“Not yet. It’s early—now that you’ve proven yourself, I’m sure they’ll start to come for you. Until then, we wait. Stay smart, but don’t get overly defensive about slight criticisms.” She couldn’t hold back a pointed glare in Maggie’s direction.

“Alright then. Back to work with you all.”

Maggie sidled up next to Alex, leaning her hip against the table as she cocked her head to the side and regarded the woman. “So, what issue did you once care about only to have your heart broken?”

“What?”

“I mean…no one gets that jaded that fast without a reason.”

“I’ve lived in DC for over a decade.”

“Mm.” Maggie paused to consider it. “I suppose that could do it too.”

“What liberal enclave did we drag you out of?”

“Blue Springs, Nebraska,” Maggie answered, grinning at the surprised look Alex was quick to suppress—but not quite quick enough.

“Ah, well…I suppose idealism doesn’t have borders—just what you want for the country, right?”

“If that’s what you need to think to dismiss my proposals, sure.”

With a huff of annoyance, Alex stood up and stormed back to her office, determined to see Lucy and find out who the hell this woman was and how much longer they’d have to wait before she got shipped back to the middle of nowhere, Nebraska.

---

Chewing on the end of her pencil, Kara read the email from an Eve Teschmacher for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes. It was short with little in the way of information:

Dear Ms. Danvers, I’m writing from Cat Grant’s campaign headquarters to see if you might be available for a phone conversation with the candidate. Please send me three times that would work for you at your earliest convenience, and I’ll schedule a time for you to speak with Ms. Grant. Sincerely, Eve Teschmacher

She cast a longing glance over at Alex’s whiskey, wishing, not for the first time, that it had an effect on her. Eventually she dialed her sister and curled up on the sofa.

After just two rings, Alex answered. “Hey.”

“Hey. How’s the start of your second week?”

“Ugh, I miss J’onn.”

“Ya know, back when you started I never expected you to be the poster child for the Department of Extranormal Operations.”

“Just call it the DEO,” Alex sighed, a slight laugh in her voice.

“Did you realize it sounds like you guys work on alien issues? Too many calls about UFOs and ET in people’s backyards?”

“We handle crises. They are extranormal events.” After a moment, Alex finally relented. “Okay, yes, fine. I didn’t name it!”

“I know, I know.”

“Plus, everything in this town goes by an acronym anyway.”

“Even the town,” Kara added with a laugh. “But what’s making you miss J’onn? Is it the lack of Oreos? I know Cat’s not big on junk food.” It wasn’t true of course; Kara had kept her office stocked with M&Ms. But she projected a certain image, and Kara wouldn’t be the one to bring it down, no matter how things had gone between them.

“No, no. Just some new researcher. The human right strategist or something. Thinks she knows better than everyone else. It’s my job to know what might cause an uproar, the kinds of things that bring down campaigns.”

“Aww, I’m sorry,” Kara commiserated. “If it makes you feel any better, I had a shitty day too.”

“Kara, it never makes me feel better when you’re upset.”

“Don’t let anyone hear you saying that. They might go thinking you’re a nice person.”

“Oh hush. So what happened to you? Whose ass do I need to kick?”

“Nothing like that. It’s actually—well, it’s your boss. Or her new assistant—Eve something.”

“Ah, the scheduler.”

“Yeah, she emailed me about having a phone conversation with Cat. Know why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she wants you to come work for her again?”

Kara scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, doubt it. If she thought I was good, she’d have kept me on her team.”

“Hey, you’re plenty good. There’s a reason she sang your praises to everyone in this town. You could’ve gotten a job just about anywhere with her good word. Or, well, I guess mainly just with Democrats, but you get the idea.”

“I don’t—it’s not—I don’t know, Alex.” Kara burrowed slightly further into the blanket nest she’d built up around her while they talked. She’d gotten over the hurt, for the most part, but she still longed for an explanation—though she feared she already knew the real reason.

After a few moments of quiet, Alex spoke up. “Do you think you’re gonna talk to her?”

“I don’t know. Yes? Maybe? Probably?”

“Alright. Well you let me know if I need to kick her ass for you, okay?”

“Didn’t you just get a stern lecture about not threatening people at the office?”

“I’m going to kill Lucy.”

“There you go again!” Kara teased, laughing loudly at the sounds of annoyance she could hear through the line. “Anyway, I’ll let ya go. I just wanted to talk for a minute.”

“Still up for Thursday happy hour?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Once she hung up with Alex, Kara flipped on the TV, intent on distracting herself for the rest of the night. Only, a few hours later, she felt like she couldn’t remember a minute of anything she’d seen, and she knew it would be a sleepless night if she left that email glaring up at her from her inbox.

Pulling it up, she began typing up a response, clicking through her calendar and finding times when she wouldn’t necessarily be missed from the office. Luckily it wasn’t close to an election year for Senator Rosen, so things were much quieter than they were elsewhere on the Hill.

Before she could hit send, in an act of bravery—or maybe it was just reckless, pent-up anger—she hadn’t anticipated, Kara switched over to her contacts and pulled up a number she hadn’t called in years.

“Hello?” Cat’s voice was cautious, and Kara could hear the news playing in the background. Apparently not much had changed.

“I hear you want to talk to me,” Kara said, catching the hitch in Cat’s breath that no human would have heard.

“I—yes, I had Eve email you about finding a time for us to speak.”

“Well, now works best for me, Cat. So what is it you want?”

“You really are a true Washingtonian these days, aren’t you?” When Kara didn’t respond, Cat continued, “As you probably know, I’m running for president.”

“Since I don’t live under a rock, yes, I am aware.”

“Right.” Kara was somewhat gratified to hear Cat sound rattled for a change. “My team’s done well so far. They’ve gotten me to where I am, and I’m grateful.” She paused, trying to find the right words, a diplomatic phrasing lest something be leaked to the press. “But they’re missing something.”

“Okay…”

“I think that something could be you, Kara.”

Kara hated herself for the way her heart sped up at that. “What do you mean?”

“Come work for me again.”

“Cat, I’m Senator Rosen’s chief of staff. I’m not coming back to be your personal assistant just because I was better than any of the other ones you had.”

“Good, I would be disappointed if you ever offered to drop back down to that level.”

“Then what is it you’re asking?”

“Come be my campaign manager.”

Kara gasped—she couldn’t help it. “Excuse me?”

“Greg is…adequate. Things function. But he’s not good or great. And you, Kara, you were always exceptional.”

“Cat…”

Hearing the warning tone in Kara’s voice, Cat cleared her throat. “Just think about it? We always did make a good team.”

“Did, Cat. Past tense.”

“I needed to let you dive—on your own, without my holding you back. And you did. Look at what you’ve done!”

Deciding to ignore what felt like half of the explanation she’d wanted for years now, Kara turned back to the job offer. “You know if I’m your campaign manager, you have to listen to me, right? I get a say. I can tell you no.”

“I still have the final decision.”

“Yes…but you don’t run a campaign by undercutting your right hand person every step of the way.”

“No, you don’t,” Cat conceded. “And I don’t plan on doing that with you. I saw what you did for Rosen. I could use someone like you by my side.”

“Give me 48 hours to decide.”

“I’ll be waiting.”