#I need you all to know that Michael is also so precious

[iwrite-sinsandtragedies]

nicknaming Qiu 'Q' and Tamarack 'Tee'

why?

because they're a pair of cuties, obviously

get it - Q Tee?

[unholyeverything]

I just realised tomorrow marks the 7ths week of me being sick and feeling like garbage lol It's some ups and downs but generally it's been a while since I've been healthy and none knows whats up which is nice.

[peachysunrize]

[TANGERINE DREAMS]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! Fluff, angst, tension! English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 5.4k+

A/n: so so sorry for the delay… unfortunately I’m gonna be awfully busy this week so the next chapter might be also delayed😭 buttttttt hopefully this chapter will make up for it! Reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

Taglist: if you wanna be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your username!

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Chapter 4: push & pull

“I’m hungry!”

“Shh!” You put your finger on Helaena’s lips to keep her quiet, “you ate all of our snacks! How are you still hungry?”

“I don’t knowwww,” she whines, dropping her head back on your lap as you resume the movie, “I need sweets!”

“It’s three in the morning, I doubt you want to wake up the entire house just to find a chocolate bar,” you thread your fingers through her soft and freshly showered silver hair.

“Babe,” she turns around, reaching for the control to pause the movie before she looks up at you, “why do you think we live in a mansion in the first place?”

“Because you have billions of money and have no idea what to do with it?” You ask, chuckling and rolling your eyes affectionately when she slaps your arm, “as if there is another reason behind it.”

“Of course there is!” She sits up, plopping a pillow next to yours as she sits shoulder to shoulder with you, “Aemond is an awfully light sleeper, so is Mum! Aegon would even sleep through… I don’t know, imagine Michael Jackson screaming in a mic and putting the amplifier next to his ear. Daeron is the best, heavy sleeper but his survival instinct would save him from anything. Me—“

“You don’t sleep at all,” she gawks at you before laughing, “What? You think I don’t know my best friend like the back of my hand? Or why we’re watching The Dance of Dragons trilogy at this god-awful hour? I’m offended!”

She pushes you playfully, “That’s not what I meant! You’re right, I don’t sleep much, but that’s not the point. I’m saying living in a mansion is quite cool because we put Mum and Aemond at the back of the building and chose our rooms afterward. So if you sneak into the kitchen…”

“I’m not gonna sneak there and shuffle around your cabinets like a fucking thief, Hel!” 

“It’s literally your home too! You’ve been here a thousand times, no one would bat an eye if they catch you going through Aegon’s snacks!” She says, pouting a bit as she gives you her best puppy eyes, “One bag of his gummy bears, just one!”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” you glare at her, scoffing immediately when she gives you her most precious smile.

“Yes, please?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you hiss, “Besides, I have no clue which cabinet I should search for.”

“The one next to the stove—“

“Helaena!”

“Please please please, I will take a walk with you in the morning—“

“I’m not dumb, why should going on a walk with you be anywhere near interesting?” You ask, crossing your arms on your chest as you give her a pointing look.

“Because… because I can take you shopping! You know, Aegon will probably give a theme for his party so what better reason than to go on a girl’s date and buy some clothes?!”

“No, and no—“

“One bag, that’s all I’m asking!”

“Fine!” She squeals in joy, “but you will make it up to me, you giant twenty-seven-year-old kid. And shopping is the least you can do.”

“Okay, babe, whatever you want! I can even set you up with one of Aegon’s friends—“

“I'll take the walk, please! Keep those boys away from me,” You stand up from the bed, shaking your head before you slowly turn the doorknob, and before you step out, you look at her and shake your head when you see her lying on the bed with her hands under her chin.

You look at the empty hallway, checking to see if anyone is around or not before walking downstairs, tiptoeing to make sure you wake up no one. Gripping the stair bars, you relax a bit when the wooden stairs don’t make a loud cracking sound.

The path to the kitchen is quiet and empty, but with the numerous vases and other home decor Alicent has put around the house, it’s hard to move around without breaking something or making a loud noise. You have been here many times, but the paintings and various pieces they have will always surprise you; they are so beautiful, and you expect nothing less from the Targaryens.

You finally reach the kitchen, slowly making your way towards the stove to find the cabinet or a drawer — because only those are next to the stove — Helaena told you about. Pulling the first drawer out, you find nothing but forks and spoons, nothing near a good snack, unfortunately. The next one contains spices and herbs, arranged neatly in jars with labels.

“What are you doing here?”

“Fucking hell!” You scream and turn around, hand on your chest as you look at Aemond who is equally surprised to see you here at such an hour, “you scared the shit out of me!”

“Shh…” he approaches you slowly, reaching to take your hand in his to calm you down, “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me, or even saw me.”

“How could I see you? My back was to you!” You exhale shakily, letting him take your hands in his larger ones, slowly caressing your skin, “what are you doing here? Creeping on me like that?”

“I was in the kitchen when you walked in,” he says, his lips twisting in a small smirk as he sees your lips part in shock.

“How did I not see you?” You gawk at him, laughing breathlessly, “You’re a giraffe, tall as fuck and your hair shines like a flashlight! Were you hiding?”

“No, no,” he steps closer, chuckling lowly to not make so much sound, your hands still in his, “I was searching for a cutting board.”

“What?” You smile a bit, looking up at him as he towers over you, “I’m really curious now.”

“No, you’re just nosy,” he smirks when he sees you open your mouth to disagree, but you catch on his teasing tone quickly and bat his hands away.

“Asshole.”

“I’m kidding,” with a kiss on the back of your hand, he moves past you to put the cutting board on the kitchen island, “I missed dinner and couldn’t sleep either so…”

“You wanna cook dinner? Now?” you ask him, rounding the island to stand close to him, “You are crazy!”

“I’m hungry,” he groans, shaking his head as he moves to another cabinet and pulls out a pot to fill it with water.

“What is up with you Targaryens being hungry at such an hour?” You lean on the counter, watching him put the full pot on the stove, taking your time to look at him from head to toe.

He is wearing a loose black T-shirt, with gray sweatpants that stay low on his hip bones. His silver hair is clipped and his glasses are on the bridge of his nose — he looks so cozy and welcoming, and he most certainly glides across the room so effortlessly, pulling out different ingredients to chop.

“What did Hel want anyway?” He asks, pulling out an onion and placing it on the cutting board next to you, leaning just like you with his hips on the counter.

“How did you know she wanted something?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I doubt you’d come and snoop around for Aegon.”

“Why not?” You raise an eyebrow at him, taking a step closer to him, “Maybe I was in his room, what then—“

“No,” he whispers, putting the knife down before he puts one hand on each side of your hips, the heel of his palm on the dip between where your thighs meet your hips and his fingers against the kitchen island — not gripping you fully, but enough to make you tremble slightly, especially with the way he looks at you, so raw and playful, “you wouldn’t allow him to make a single flirty comment, and you want me to believe that you just left his room?”

“What if I have changed my mind?” You look up at him through your lashes, voice barely above whispering, “Maybe I have fallen for his Targaryen charm?”

“The only Targaryen charm you’ll fall for is—”

“Babeee!” suddenly Helaena’s hushed whisper echoes in the kitchen

Your eyes widen and in the blink of an eye, you push Aemond away and move to the cabinet Helaena told you about earlier, trying to make yourself look busy while Aemond puts his palms on top of the island, leaning down a bit as he sighs, his face forming into a deep scowl as he watches his sister tiptoe into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey, Aemy,” she waves at him, finally finding you crouched down next to the cabinet, “What’s taking you so long?”

“I couldn’t find the cabinet—” “It’s the one you are sitting in front of,” she says, smiling as she looks at her brother reaching for the knife, “and what are you doing here?”

“I was hungry,” he mutters, slicing the onion in half, “What do you want?”

“My promised gummy bears and a glass of water,” she shrugs and walks to grab her glass and you take the chance to stand up with her snack, standing side by side with Aemond, both of you following Helaena’s movements as she hums happily and fills her glass with water.

You glance at Aemond, catching him already looking at you with an unreadable expression that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. Averting your eyes quickly, you watch Hel making her way to you before she gives you a quick hug.

“I’m going to bed, we will finish them another day.” “Sure, love,” you smile, “I’ll go to bed in a few minutes too, goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” Aemond says quietly, moving towards the boiling water on the stove before he drops uncooked spaghetti in it and walks back to the cutting board.

“What are you cooking?” 

“Penne alla vodka,” he replies, smirking when you roll your eyes at him.

“Of course, typical classy Aemond,” you say, groaning a bit because of how tired you are, “your sister is a menace for keeping me up so long. I can’t even stand on my feet!”

“Then you don’t have to stand,” he says casually, wiping his hands with the cloth hanging from the waistband of his sweats. He moves closer to you, backing you up against the kitchen island with a teasing look in his good eye, his hands coming up to grip your waist and before you know it, he picks you up effortlessly and sits you on the island, his fingers digging into your flesh.

You swallow, bracing yourself by your hands on his chest as you look at Aemond, finding him standing closer to you between your legs, his eye focusing solely on your face — how your lips part with a quiet gasp falling from them, how your pupils are blown with something he can’t read quite well. 

You are a vision to behold.

He leans closer, his face mere inches away from yours, his hot breath fanning against your face. You inhale sharply when he cranes his neck and his nose bumps into yours, his hooded eye hazy as he stares at you.

His grip tightens on your waist, and you feel his fingers caressing your back and the side of your tummy slowly, almost shyly, but with his lips only one breath, you know there is no shyness left within him, only determination.

As soon as he wants to lean down and capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss, the pasta in the oven is long overcooked and the boiling water pours out, making a loud hissing sound that makes Aemond break apart from you.

“Shit,” he groans, the warmth of his hand gone from your waist as he jogs to the stove and lifts the pot to empty the remaining water of the pasta, cursing himself in his head with how careless he acted — not only he nearly ruined your friendship but also his late dinner will taste like an uncooked dough.

“I-I think I should go to bed,” you stutter, jumping down from the island, smiling awkwardly at him, “goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” he watches you leave in a hurry, running a hand down his face — mindful of his glasses — he sighs loudly, “What the fuck was I thinking?”

If only he knew the answer to this.

“Okay kids, listen up!” Aegon claps his hands, stepping on top of the huge table in the guest wing’s living room, trying his best to give the four of you — six if you count Criston and Alicent — a very very pointed, dramatic and serious look, “tonight, we will drink!”

He points at Daeron and Aemond who are each holding two bottles of whatever drinks, or poison to put it better, Aegon has chosen to feed you tonight.

“Tonight, we will dance!” He points at Helaena who rolls her eyes and presses play on her phone so the music blasts through the amplifiers around the house but quickly pauses it so Aegon can talk.

“Annnnndddd!” He jumps down, striding towards you with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He grabs you by your waist, twirls you around suddenly, and dips you down on his arm before he leans down, “We will have fun!” He leans to kiss you, but you put your palm on his face and push him away roughly, laughing out loud with him when you make a gagging sound.

“Get away from me you moron!”

“I’m sure my kisses would make you feel much better—”

“I rather die than have your tongue down my throat,” you stand behind Aemond, and when Aegon sees how hard his brother is glaring at him, he whistles and wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you — Aemond blushes horribly and you only give a tight-lipped awkward smile.

“Alright!” Alicent says, walking towards the table Aegon was standing up to fix the tablecloth, “I know you’ll take care of everything, but—” she looks at Aegon, “no drugs,” she then turns to Daeron and Helaena, “No sneaking out of the house,” then she looks at Aemond, “no goddamn books!” “I don’t even read that much,” Aemond sighs, putting the vanilla vodka bottles on the table before he crosses his arms, “I haven’t had the time to read even one book.” “I don’t care, Aemond. No books, no workshop, no merging with the darkness and sulking in a corner of this house. Okay?”

“Yes, Mum, I get it,” he agrees, turning around to glance at you, only for you to give him an encouraging smile.

“Now that we’re all settled,” Aegon reaches and throws his arm around Alicent’s shoulder, “take out dinner, obviously—”

“What do you mean ‘take out’? I didn’t hire a chef for you to say you’ll get our guests nasty food,” Alicent frees herself from Aegon, giving him one last look before she moves with Cole on toe towards the exit, “Also, the catering will be here soon, if you wanna help, you’ll need to wait a bit for them.” “Did you hear that?” Aegon asks, eyes wide and a very large grin finds its way on his face.

“Billionaires have such a hard life, I pity you guys,” You say sarcastically, “what’s up with these faces? You don’t like having a private chef?”

“Babe,” Helaena comes and grabs your hand, “This means Mum really wants us to party! She only gets this generous when she wants us to have fun.” “A private chef is a pretty great thing,” Aemond shrugs, grabbing yet another two bottles of vanilla vodka with a grimace on his face and putting them down next to the other two.

“No shit Sherlock! Of course, it’s amazing! Who wouldn’t want a fresh plate of ribs in the middle of a partially illegal party?” he chuckles at you, nodding at the catering that finally arrived, putting his warm palm on your waist.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I am always in charge of dinner because these three,” he points at his siblings, “get absolutely hammered and won’t be able to order takeout.”

“I knew Helaena would get drunk if she set her mind to it but Daeron?” you ask leaning closer to his side, looking up at him, and occasionally glancing at the other three siblings who are helping the catering staff with the food and drinks.

“He is a mixed… combination of all of us,” he chuckles, his nails digging into your waist as he scratches your skin under your shirt gently, lit the fire of the memory of a few hours ago you shared, “He doesn’t drink much but when he does… well, rest assured he gets as bad and loud as Aegon.”

“I’ve been here countless times but never seen him acting like an idiot,” you laugh, walking to grab the closest tray to help with the setting. Aemond does the same and follows you around the room quietly, making small talk with you until everything is set and ready for the party.

You and him walk forward, and for the first time he doesn’t guide you with his hand on your back, and you see how he is pondering hard about something.

“He wanted to really kiss you,” he whispers for only you to hear. You stop and a soft yet confused expression overtakes your face as you look at him, waiting for him to continue.

“What?” “Aegon,” he says, “he likes you, maybe he would have gotten away with it if you let him kiss you.”

“Aemond, don’t be ridiculous,” you grab his wrist gently, forcing him to stop, “I said it once, I’ll say it again; I don’t like Aegon romantically, and I would rather die than let him get close to my face.”

He doesn’t look too convinced, so with one glance at your back to see where your best friend and the rest of her siblings are, you hold his other hand in yours as well, “Besides, I would rather kiss another Targ—” “Go find some clothes, kids! It’s a white party!” Aegon announces, and Helaena suddenly appears out of nowhere and wraps her arms around you, making you let go of Aemond’s hands immediately.

“Come on, babe! Let’s go get ready!” you don’t have time to finish your sentence so with one last look at Aemond, you leave with Hel towards your rooms to get ready.

Aemond pulls shirt after shirt out of his closet, all of them are either black or dark green and those who are colorful are blue. Nothing. He can’t find anything to wear and it has started to annoy him.

He sits on the edge of his bed, his hair unruly and in need of a good brush but that can wait. His outfit on the other hand can’t, and the fact that Aegon’s guests will arrive in a few minutes is driving him crazy. 

With a loud annoyed groan, he stands up and moves toward his hung clothes, searching through them, but again, all he can find is a pair of white sneakers that thankfully will go with any outfit he chooses.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tries to think of any Shirts or pants he can find, but he is interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Hey,” you open the door a bit, smiling at him before slipping inside, but before you can stop yourself, your eyes roam over his topless figure leaning over the closet with his sweat hanging low on his hips.

Aemond is even worse than you; seeing you in a white sundress with sheer sleeves that hung low on your shoulders and the dress reaching your mid-thighs… he is speechless. His eye roams over your figure slowly, taking in the sight of you.

He can see how you get shy all of a sudden, caressing your arm as he literally looks you up and down.

“How do I look?” you ask, twirling to show the back of the dress as well.

“Wow,” breathtaking, gorgeous, mindblowing, earth-shattering, “Beautiful,” you make his heart nearly leap out of his chest, his cheeks turning pink as he gazes at you like a teen boy experiencing his first high school crush.

“Thank you!” you smile, rocking on your feet, “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, “I couldn’t find anything.”

“Bullshit!”

“Excuse me?” he asks hesitantly, watching you curiously as you make your way to his wardrobe, standing in front of him to search within his clothes yourself.

“You wore those white shorts to the winery, hmmm, let me see—” You pull out a white shirt with baggy pants, both enough to make him much taller than he is, but he has to agree that the simplicity might actually look great, “here you go! But let me brush your hair first!”

You sit him down on the bed, crawling behind him with a brush and a hair tie you found on his vanity desk before you start slowly combing through his soft hair, detangling and making it look more presentable. 

He relaxes under your touch and lets you pull the front of his hair back and tie it so his face is shown more. He sighs and thanks you when you’re done, and to his surprise, you grab the shirt from him, forcing him to stand up to help him put it on, leaving the first few buttons undone before you do the rest slowly.

“Were you jealous?” You ask, letting your fingers brush over his pale chest, “When you saw Aegon wanted to kiss me?”

He swallows but as soon as you are done he pulls away and holds the pants up, signaling for you to leave so he can change, and you do but wait for him outside until he is ready.

“Maybe,” he says as you loop your arm through his, both of you walking toward the guest wing. You can already hear the blasting hip hop song Aegon is playing, the sounds of screaming and singing already filling the entire mansion.

“Really?” You ask quietly, letting go of his hand as soon as you reach the door, finding a few of Aegon’s friends around.

“I don’t know, I said maybe,” he moves away from you with one last smirk and enters the party. The smell of alcohol, cigarette, and smoke fills his lungs, and soon spots Daeron and Aegon mixing cocktails and handing them to the guests. Helaena is busy talking to an old friend of his, Cregan Stark, and she is all blushy and giggly while she sips on her drink — he makes a mental note to check up on her regularly.

“Here is our boyyyy!” One of Aegon’s friends screams and throws his arm around Aemond’s shoulders, shaking him as everyone erupts in joy and laughter, a shot of whiskey is thrusted into his hands and everyone is suddenly encouraging him to drown the drink in one go.

“Come on, Aemy! Don’t be a fucking pussy!” Aegon screams over the music, and with one final sigh, he brings the glass to his lips and empties the drink down his throat, making everyone around him scream and clap him on the back before they start shouting for another shot, which Daeron pours for him and as the first one, he drowns it again.

“That’s my fucking brother!” Aegon suddenly jumps onto an empty table, completely topless with two bottles of vodka in his hands as he screams and cheers for Aemond while holding the bottles up.

“He is so fucking insane!” Daeron shakes his head when Aegon starts rolling his hips to the music, his silver hair covered in sweat and possibly alcohol as he flexes his abs and chest for the girls.

“He is disgusting,” Aemond sighs, watching amusedly as Aegon jumps down and wraps his arms around two girls, moving to dance with them while their hands wander all over his body.

Aemond looks around and finds you and Helaena on the dance floor, clearly drunk out of your mind with how you are laughing and moving around. He drowns the rest of his drink before he sneaks out of the party, moving outside toward his workshop to clear his head, but before that, he goes back to the main building and grabs a bottle of water to sober up.

He finds Vhagar already waiting for him at the entrance, wiggling her tail when she notices Aemond. He crouches down to pet her softly, scratching behind her ears and kissing her furs before he stands up and moves to the backyard, his old lady following him quickly.

On their way to the workshop, they find Aegon and the two girls sneaking upstairs, making out with one while the other caresses his skin. Aemond rolls his eye in disgust as he moves past them, finding a pair of heels on the ground as she enters the small wood attached to their yard after where the Weirwood tree is.

He walks further inside the woods, following the path he once walked with you which leads to his workshop, Vhagar happily accompanies him there, even jogging and running past him numerous times to show her enthusiasm — she just loves being around him.

He notices a shadow in the workshop, moving around clumsily as it touches and picks different things up. He thinks it might be one of Aegon’s dumbass friends, wandering around their house drunk and exhausted. But how did someone, anyone find the key to unlock the door?

He opens the door, catching you of all the people snooping around his stuff, smiling when you find a pretty seven-pointed star keychain with Alicent’s name carved under it — he remembers when he made that. He was only seventeen, and he had moved past that amateur phase and got a grip on the woodwork and different types of it. What better way to celebrate his Mum’s birthday than gifting her something he made from scratch?

“Hey you,” he says slowly, not wanting to frighten you like he did this morning, “And what are you exactly doing here?”

“Look who’s here,” you turn around opening your arms, burping as you talk, showing how good Aegon’s cocktail must have been to get you this giddy, “sorry, Little nerd! I saw this really really pretty place and couldn’t help myself! Isn’t it strange that no one uses here? Urgh, what I would do to stay here.”

“Alright, darling, don’t pout,” he slowly reaches to grab your arm so you don’t trip over anything and fall down, “How did you get in here?”

“Did you just—” you gasp, letting him pull you to his side, “did you just call me darling?”

“Yes, I did,” he nods, keeping you secure on your feet before he offers you the water bottle, urging you to drink from it, “have this, clearly you need it more than I do.”

“What a gentleman! Thank you,” you say, taking a large sip after he helps you open the bottle, the cold water makes you feel slightly better so you drink the rest too, not sobering up completely but enough to remember where you are and who you are with and more importantly remember what you are doing.

“So, how did you get in here?” Aemond asks again, taking the empty bottle from you before tossing it for Vhagar, who happily claws at the plastic, jumping on it before she takes it outside to bury it somewhere — which Aemond would need to find later.

“Found a spare key under that vase,” you pointed at the vase outside his door on the floor, “You are not as slick as you think, Aemond, calling me darling and everything.”

“Do you want me to stop calling you that?” he asks playfully, watching you bite your lips in response, shaking your head slightly, “then I guess I won’t.”

You look around the workshop and find a wooden pallet with half a portrait carved on it. The lines are oddly familiar, a woman perhaps because of the details put in the jaw, and the hair looks so delicate and soft.

“Wow, Aemond…” You free yourself from his arms and move to take a closer look at the half-done wooden portrait, “Did you make this?”

“Yes…” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck in shame or perhaps anxiousness, because what if you recognize who the person is? All of his efforts will be in vain. What will you think of him? A boy with nothing better than observing women? A pervert?

“This is fascinating!” you keep looking at the wooden pallet but something catches your eye; a printed black and white picture of the person’s portrait, but before you can reach for it, Aemond grabs your forearm and pulls you away roughly.

You gasp as he pulls you between him and the desk the portrait and all of his stuff are on. His breathing is frantic, and his long fingers hold your forearm tight enough not to hurt you.

You look up at him, lips parted, a scene too familiar — this morning, so close to each other, one mingling breath away yet too far — but there is a fire burning within him, a newfound determination that makes his heart beat faster and his hands shake.

He is not a weak mean, quite the contrary, but when he looks down at you, catching how your gaze falls on his lips… he is no better than any other man.

He leans down a little, the sounds of the outside world fading away as he moves his face closer, and he notices how you slowly twist your arm out of his grasp, only to move them toward his chest, and he takes the sign and reaches to hold you by your waist, his nose bumping into yours as the distance between you decreases

You smell so sweet, like strawberry on a whipped cream once Aegon fed him when he was feeling down. It’s sweet but not too much to have him run away, to shy away from such a delicious taste. Will your lips taste the same if he musters the courage to just move down a bit and finds it by himself?

“Aemond…” One whisper of his name is all it takes for his restraint to shatter into a million pieces, and finally, finally, he leans down enough to capture your lips in a quick kiss. Both of you waiting for waited breath to see who will lean in, give in, and take what they want

Both, you both lean in, meeting each other halfway as your lips meet in a chaste messy kiss.

You taste so sweet just as he thought, but not just a strawberry tooth rooting sweet, no. you taste like a fresh cold morning breeze on a summer day, you feel like a cold shower after an exhausting day — so refreshing, so… so much like home. As if he has only found the solace he has been seeking with Alys for so long but something has always been amiss, but with you… oh, one kiss is enough for him to know how wrong he was.

You tangle your fingers through his hair, and he takes the chance to sit you on the desk, but by doing so, he knocks a little vase on the ground, and you freeze.

You pull away from the kiss, muttering his name but he doesn’t let you say anything before he seals his lips to yours in an endearing kiss. But you push him away by putting your hands on his chest, making enough room for you to talk.

“Aemond, we can’t—” “What do you mean we can’t?” He asks, panicking a little but you manage to ease his mind with a quick kiss, “What do you mean, darling?” He asks again, voice barely above whispering.

“I don’t want to be your rebound…” you pull him down enough so his forehead rests on yours, “I don’t want to be the person who you fuck just after you’ve been dumped.”

“You’re… you’re not that, you will never be that! Alys—“

“Alys… you’re still not over her, Little nerd,” you caress his cheek lovingly, pressing a gentle kiss on the apple of his cheek before you push him away and put a great distance between the two of you, and with teasr in your eyes you say one last sentence and leave.

“You still love Alys.”

[actual-changeling]

i have a thing with hands and the scene where aziraphale asks crowley to dance is playing on repeat in my head.

while yes, the primary purpose of the ball was to get maggie and nina together, it was ALSO for him and crowley, and you literally cannot convince me otherwise.

"perhaps you can tell me while we dance?"

the look on his face is pure excitement, he is basically bubbling over with it, and if you look at the few seconds before he turns around, you can see how nervous he is, too. his eyes keep flicking back and forth and he wets his lips several times and swallows before he starts talking. this is peak "i'm asking my secret crush and prom date to a dance" behaviour.

crowley's reaction is confusion ("we don't dance) but it's not a no, and aziraphale knows that. his absolutely precious, smitten smile just KILLS me, because boy he would have grabbed him and pulled him onto the dance floor (or what passes as one anyway) no matter what he responded.

yet crowley didn't say no, just "we don't do this" and aziraphale silently says we do now. and then! and THEN! before he takes his hand he glances down at it like he is trying to make sure it's where he thinks it is and that he can grab it. he's probably also just brimming with energy and excitement and it needs to be let out somehow.

but what REALLY gets me is that absolutely adorable GIGGLE he lets out when he takes crowley's hand. he GIGGLES. it's small and breathless and he licks his lips AGAIN. tell me that isn't middle school crush behaviour, he is going through so many emotions it's incredible how well michael sheen portrays all of them at once.

just. the way he is holding his hand. his thumb probably caressed the back of it when he adjusted his grasp and pulled him along, and crowley simply goes with him, zero resistance offered.

if you look closely, you can even see crowley's fingers slightly curl as if he is starting to hold his hand back properly. aziraphale wanted to dance with him so bad, to have him close and hold his hand and look into his eyes while they participate in what he thinks is the definition of falling in love. and crowley will do whatever to make him happy, and if it means dancing and touching him for several minutes, well, he sure as hell isn't going to complain about that.

long story short i'm deceased and will never recover.

[viperrot]

⇁slasher season | leon kennedy | pt. 1

re4 remake ghostface!leon kennedy x fem!reader NSFW 18+

MINORS DNI: BEWARE OF THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

a few days have passed since you gave leon permission to be a lil creeper. the stage is set, and you thought you were ready, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

series content warnings: porn with little plot, cnc/dubcon, depictions of chase, stalking, knifeplay, size difference, and possibly more to be added

content contains: stalking, verbal and physical threats (threatens to unalive you), knifeplay, oral (fem-receiving), p in v, cnc, leon is trying to be mean, size difference, voyeurism, masturabation, degradation (use of “slut” and “bitch”), cervix kissing, unprotected sex, implied aftercare

not proofread i am going beddie bye time

????words

song rec: “voulez-vous” by johnny goth

i’m back from the grave. also 300+ FOLLOWS WHAT WHAT I LOVE YOU BIRDIES SO MUCH!! IM SO SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG T^T IVE HAD A HORRIBLE SUMMER BREAK.

You always felt a sense of shame when you tell your classmates that you don’t work often. At minimum, you work twelves hours a week, and it isn’t for college but more for yourself. It was hard to admit you hail from a well-off family, your rich aunties and uncles all pitching in for your college funding and your quaint apartment, so you never talked about your riches with your friends no matter how close, not wanting to make them feel less-than in anyway.

Time and time again, you’ve offered Leon help with his tuition and summer-class prices, and he always denied it, saying something gruff and mildly misogynistic like, “I don’t need a lady’s money” with a dumb expression. Instead of arguing, you put your extra coffee-shop money into food, clothes, and other gifts for your dear boyfriend, who works far more than you do.

And work means he’s not always around.

In the summer, he’s kicking around in a pool with a handful of little ones, teaching them how to swim “like a better Michael Phelps” as he’d stay at the pool for nearly twelve hours a day. When pool season is over, he's working at the bakery near downtown part-time or focusing on school. Despite the busy schedule year-round, Leon always found time for you, never passing an opportunity to snuggle in the nearly eight months of you dating.

You lazed away on your bed, the summer heat missing as a result of your precious air-con working its ass off in this weather. The bedroom was lit only by the afternoon sun which sparkled in from your balcony a few feet away from your queen-sized bed. You watched the clothes you hung up to dry sway in the gentle breeze as you laid on your side, hands tucked beneath your head as you dozed off.

Rrrrring! Rrrrring!

The sound of your phone going off catches you off guard, the call practically vibrating your entire bed. You sigh heavily and snatch the device from the cotton abyss of your duvet, the screen's brightness slightly stinging your corneas as you squint at it confused.

"Unknown Caller?" You mumble, trying to think of anyone that could be calling you at this time. "Maybe its something about college..." You swipe the screen to the right with your thumb, sitting up and bringing the phone to your ear.

"Hello?" You greet questioningly, eyebrows furrowing together as your free hand comes down to fiddle with the hem of your oversized jumper.

"Hello?" A man's voice responds, deep with a slight rasp. Your confusion worsens.

"Can I help you...?"

"Who is this?"

"(Y/n) (L/n)," you respond curtly. "What do you need?"

"I don't know," they reply. Your lips tug into a slight frown.

"I think you have the wrong number, then. Have a good day!" With a feigned happiness, you quickly ended the phone call and slumped back down into your bed, the springs creaking as your weight pressed into the plush mattress. Your eyes begin to droop once more, breathing slow as you succumb to sleep.

Until the phone rings again.

You grunt and claw around for your cellular device once more, checking the screen to see it was from the same unknown caller. Your eyebrows knit together. Who is this?

“Hello..?”

“Hang up one more time, and I’ll fuckin’ slit your throat,” the mysterious man threatens, his words voiced through gritted teeth and a clenched throat. At that moment, everything clicks.

It’s Leon, your sweet and harmless boyfriend. Leon Scott Kennedy, a man who’s like a giant puppy, is threatening to kill you.

Your mouth grows dry as you ponder on what to say, eyes wide as your hand grips the phone to your ear tightly.

“I-I’m sorry…” You stammer, somehow terrified despite knowing exactly who was on the other end of the line.

“Aww, it’s okay, sweetheart…” you can hear the slight apologetic tone through Leon’s voice changer, and it makes your heart flutter ever so slightly. Even so, he continues this cruel act of his. “I’ll spare you—for now, at least. How about you tell me a little about yourself, hm?” His honeyed voice made your thighs clench together.

“W-what do you… want to know…?” You swallow dryly, tongue pushing out to lick your chapped lips. You hear Leon hum in thought, and you can’t help but imagine him tapping his index finger against his chin.

“Mmm… you gotta boyfriend?” He coos.

“Y-yeah. He’s uhm… very sweet,” you respond shakily, breath hitching in your throat. “I-I’m waiting for him to come home n-n-now, actually!” you hear Leon chuckle at this.

“Really now? Is he making you wait long?” you notice a bit of background noise come through as he speaks, like foliage rustling in the wind. You make a noise signifying your agreement.

“A little, yeah… he works a lot, but I try not to make a big deal out of it,” you clear your throat.

“He leaves a pretty thing like you alone? How cruel,” the “stranger” notes, a teasing tone dripping from his tongue. “A girl with a body like that, I’d do anything in my power to be with you all the time, sweetheart,” your heart beats against your ribcage as you try to figure out what to say.

“How do you know what I look like?!” you sputter out, hoping he can’t somehow hear your blush through the phone. Leon lets out a soft snicker.

“You tend to leave your curtains drawn, bug,” you nearly laugh at his small slip-up, and you’re sure that he realized it too. Even then, you fake your distress, jumping out of your bed in a flurry to stumble into the living room of your quaint apartment. It was true—your curtains were pulled back to let in the golden light of the setting sun, blinds drawn up completely. You fumble with the strings and fabric, nearly falling as you shoo away the natural light from your home.

“You creep! I’ll call the cops-“

“And what? You think they’ll find me?”

“Th-they’ll keep watch of my neighbourhood, an-and-“

“Well, let’s hope they can keep watch of your actual apartment, cuz I’m already here, sweetheart,” Leon’s smirk is evident in his voice, and before you can say anything in rebuttal, you hear a door slide open with a heavy thud coming from your room. Your heart skips a beat as you stumble backwards slightly, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

“Th-this isn’t fucking funny!” You yelp, oddly afraid.

“‘Not funny’? Baby, I never said this was a comedy show,” he chuckles. “You gunna call the cops now? They won’t get here on time, and you know that,” you supposed he could hear you fumbling with your phone, getting ready to dial the police department. Shakily, you begin to bound towards your bedroom, pushing the door open with your hip seeing as it was slightly open. The door to the balcony was wide open, the breeze that dried your hung clothes blowing in gently and causing your curtains to billow in the wind. Apart from the soft drawl of the summer currents, the room was deathly silently. You stood in front of your bed, legs threatening to give out beneath you as your eyes scanned every corner of your room.

“I-I’m not afraid of you!” you call out, phone about to break under the force of your grip.

“Not afraid, huh? We’ll see about that,” the line cuts, and you realize the call has ended. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and yet you’re completely unaware of the presence behind you. Suddenly, a hand presses against your mouth to muffle you as the other wraps under your arm to detain you, a sharp edge pressing into your throat which bobbed in discomfort. Your yelp is bitten back as you teeth at the leather against your lips, trying to bite the hand that kept your pressed against the strangers body. Your eyes as wide as dimes, you decide not to struggle against your attacker, fearing that the blade will slit your throat as he has promised only a few minutes ago.

“You seem pretty scared now, bunny,” he whispers, a shiver running down your spine as a result. His voice is muffled by something, and you realize he’s wearing a flimsy white mask of the iconic Ghostface. “You should be more aware of your surroundings, baby. Otherwise, you’ll find big scary men like me sneakin’ around,” the man digs the blade a little deeper, and you’re thankful that the knife is a bit dull—had it been a sharper blade, you would be bleeding by now.

“You’re shaking, sweetheart… calm down for me. I don’t wanna- ruin this pretty little body of yours,” you can tell he nearly breaks character, his softer side trying to fight for control, but he continues his aggressive front. Your body is practically pudding in his muscular arms, knees nearly giving out beneath you. Your cries are stifled by his gloved fingers as he begins to drag the Buck 120 knife down the length of your neck and against your collarbones. Your attacker pays no mind to the weak punches you throw against his side, barely faltering at the contact and simply holds you tighter against his toned chest.

“So fuckin’ pretty, bunny,” he whispers, admiring the glint of his weapon against your skin. “All for me, too~ You know how crazy it drives me seeing you change in front of that damn balcony door? Sometimes I think you’re begging for me to see this slutty body all the time,” the vulgar languages catches you by surprise, but it quickly leaves when you feel the knife catch between a button of your Leon’s shirt. It tugs upward and snags the thread, popping open the shirt one button at a time, exposing your breasts and baby blue panties to him. He lets out a low laugh, vibrating from his chest.

“My favourite colour, too? Baby, were you expecting me?” His hand drops from your mouth, allowing you to breathe evenly. His free hand immediately finds your breast and gives it a tight squeeze, pinching the perky little bud harshly. “Of course whores like you would welcome a guy like me, hm? You like this, sweetheart?”

“Y-you’re sick…!” you cry, moaning slightly at the pain he inflicted onto your sensitive chest. You feel the blunt end of the knife’s handle push just above your v-line, harsh and brutal as it digs into your body.

“Don’t fuckin’ act innocent with me,” the masked man hisses. “I know exactly what girls like you want—you put up this sweet act around your friends at school so they don’t know you like getting fucked like a toy.”

“Th-that isn’t tru-“ before you finish your sentence, he slams your body into the bed, front pressed into the plush duvet. He leaves his knife laying next to you, taking one hand to keep both of yours behind your back while his other reaches down to paw at the gusset of your underwear.

“‘Not true’? Then explain why it’s practically dripping down here,” the slick gathers on the black leather of his gloves, and you whine as his fingers press against your clothed slit. “Admit it—tell me you love to be used like a little fleshlight,” his voice is rough beneath his mask, and you try to look at him over your shoulder as you struggle against his tight grip. You take note of his outfit consisting of black cargos, an ebony, long-sleeved compression shirt, his leather gloves, and the mask. Its inky black eyes stared back at you as you wiggled beneath him.

“I-I’m not…! I don’t like being-“ you gasp when you feel a sudden intrusion, rendering you speechless. Slick, leathered fingers force their way between your folds and into your hole, scissoring slightly in attempt to stretch you open. He hisses at the feeling of your walls squeezing against his middle and ring finger.

“Christ—Bunny, does your boyfriend not fuck you hard enough? I swear-“ his breathing grows heavy as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your cunt. “You’re tighter than a virgin-“ your thighs clench against his hand as you babble for him to stop.

“P-please… st-stop touching mme,” you hiccup, trying your best to hate the fluttering feeling he was giving you. The man’s fingers curl against your inner walls, pressing deeper and harder into your most pleasurable spots.

“Aww, you want me to stop? But why? You look like you’re having so much fun, baby~” His grip around your wrists grow tighter as he begins to thrust his fingers a little faster. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as you moan at the pleasure. The knot in your stomach begins to tighten you grow closer to your release, the wet sound of your arousal echoing through your room. Just as you feel as though you’ll explode, the man pulls his fingers out completely, leaving you breathless.

“N-no, please!” you cry, squirming beneath him. He makes no sound, instead releasing your arms and flipping you to lay on your back. You watch him get on his knees before grabbing the discarded blade next to you, making quick work of your delicate pair of lace panties. The fabrics tears as he pulls the knife through it, throwing the bits of it to the floor as well as his blade before pulling up his mask. It drops to the ground, too, laying next to the tattered blue fabric before he looks up at you between your legs. Your boyfriend’s attacker’s hands grip the fat of your thighs tight as he gives you a coy smirk.

“What was that, bunny? ‘Yes, please’? Well, don’t mind if I do,” Leon licks his slightly chapped lips before dipping his head down, blonde hair shielding his eyes as his tongue presses against your sensitive clit. Your fingers tangle into his thin tresses of hair, eyes rolling back as you feel his tongue bully itself into your pussy. Leon grunts when your thighs squeeze his head, only urging him to tongue-fuck you deeper.

“St-stop it-“

“You keep telling me to stop, yet you keep pressing your pussy into my mouth like you’re forcing me to eat it,” he says, mumbling onto your cunt casually. “I should punish you for lying to me, but I’m feeling generous tonight. Just take this like a good little bitch and we won’t have any problems.”

Leon continues his work on you, his skilled tongue having its way inside of your tight little hole as his thumb presses against your clit. You beg for him to stop, trying to push his head out from between your thighs, but he makes no effort of moving, continuing his assault on your poor pussy. He devoured you like it was his first meal in weeks, drinking up every drop of your slick like he wouldn’t eat ever again. You grew embarrassed at the sound of your moans mixing with the wet squelches of your juices. Leon could only laugh as he takes quick peeks at your dazed expression, lapping up at the arousal that practically leaked out of your body. Before you could cum, he pulls back, forcing himself out from between your thighs.

“How ‘bout we get to the good part,” the blonde smirks, picking up his Buck 120 before standing at his full height. You watch him unbuckle his belt, the gentle clanging of metal reaching your ears as he then reaches to unzip his cargo pants. Your body stiffens as you take in the sight of his bulge, threatening to burst from the confines of his black cotton briefs.

“N-no way—you c-cant-!”

“Can’t what? I can’t fuck you?” his brow quirks up.

“M-my boyfriend’ll-“ He rolls his blue eyes, annoyed at the mentioning of himself your partner.

“Fine, we’ll play it your way, bunny,” he shakes his head, picking up one of your legs with his free hand. “Don’t squirm, got it? You may be acting like a bitch right now, but I really don’t wanna nick you, sweetheart,” he grunts, setting your knee over his shoulder. You lay there, wondering what he’s planning, and your eyes widen when you see him hold the knife by its blade, the shiny silver in the palm of his gloved hand as he positions the hilt just before the entrance of your cunt.

“W-wait- don’t-“ Leon pays no mind to your pleas, pressing the blunt handle into your pussy. You clench and cry out, the cold material surprising you as well as the sudden stretch. He clicks his tongue is disproval as you whimper beneath him, thrusting the handle in and out of you.

“You’re so fuckin’ worried about your boyfriend, sweetheart. Why can’t you just admit he can’t fuck you right?” Leon fakes his concern. “You know you love this—You just don’t wanna admit that your stalker’s foreplay is better than your own boyfriend’s dick.”

“S-s’not true! Nngh, it’s nn-not truue~!” you claw at the hand that was squeezing your thigh, silently begging for Leon to stop. Even then, your body betrayed you. Your cunt spasmed around the smooth handle, giving Leon a bit of a struggle as he continued to thrust the weapon in and out of you.

“What a fuckin’ slut…” he smirks. “You keep saying you don’t want this, but your pussy is so goddamn wet,” he pulls the handle out of you, and you cry, babbling for him to put it back in. He only chuckles lowly before taking his cock out of the confines of his underwear. It springs out at a nice six inches, thick and cut with a vein trailing up the side. The Buck 120 is left to be forgotten once more.

“You’re taking this—whether you like it or not,” Leon takes your other leg and throws it over his free shoulder before dragging the head of his cock against your wet slit. Your hands pathetically reach for him.

“P-please…” you hiccup. Leon hums, a teasing expression painting his face.

“What’s that, bunny? Oh, you wanna be fucked like a bitch in heat? Well, if you insist…” with a sudden force, he shoves himself into you with one smooth thrust, splitting you open with ease. You cry out, the back of your head craning into the mattress as you begged for your stalker to pull out.

“O-out~! P-please, nno more~!” you sob, tears flowing from your eyes as he pulls out enough to just leave the tip in. With a grunt, his hips slam back into yours, the full length of him back inside of your tight cunt. Leon lets out a slight moan as he begins to jackhammer himself into you, seemingly not having a care in the world for your comfort as he grips onto your hips and folds you in half onto the bed.

“So tight, baby- fuck! This pussy was made for me,” Leon’s eyes squeeze shut as he fucks into you, relishing in the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his thick cock. “You love this, I fuckin’ know you do. You love being my free-use slut, bunny—tell me you love it when I fuck you like my personal- toy!” he chokes on his words, clearly lost in the pleasure.

“L-love it so much~! M-mmore, more pl-plleaase~” you babble, fingers threading into the man’s hair. Your noses graze each as he bucks up further into you.

“Drives me fuckin’ crazy watching you from your damn balcony, sweetheart,” Leon pants, beginning to break his persona. “Watching you hump your pillows, moaning my name—I couldn’t keep waiting. I was pl-planning- f-fuck, you’re so tight, baby-! Trying to…! To creep on you for a week, b-but you’re just so gorgeous…!” His hands grip harder on your hips, bruising them as he pounds his cock harder and harder into your abused cunt.

“You looked so desperate trying to fuck that stupid pillow of yours—I can’t tell you how much I wanted to just jump into your room and take you then and there, bunny,” his breath tickles against your lips as he speaks, and you can only moan and squirm in response, barely able to form words with how good he made you felt. Your fingers weakly tug at the base of his hair as his hips roll into you, and you swear you can feel the head of his cock trying to push past your poor cervix.

“L-Leon-!” You cry, your legs applying pressure to either side of his head as you feel the knot in the pit of your belly begin to unravel. Leon’s grip on your sides becomes rougher, bruises blossoming in deep purples and reds against your skinz

“Cum for me, bunny—please…!” your lover drops the harsh act, fully embracing his typical nature of sweet boyfriend despite his white-knuckled grip on you. A near-scream erupts from your throat as you finally release, your cunt spasming around Leon’s cock. With gritted teeth, he pulls out and releases onto your stomach, the sticky substance staining the wrinkled white button-up and the soft skin of your belly.

Heavy, hot pants filled the room as you and Leon took a moment to pull yourselves together, his lips pressing soft kisses onto your calves and ankle as he gently leaned back to remove you from your folded state.

“You alright, bug? I-“ he gulps, catching his breath. “I didn’t get too rough, did I?” the worry is apparent in Leon’s voice as his gentle blue orbs gaze into yours. You feel his hands gently caress the bruises he left on your skin.

“M’okay, Lee,” you assure him, chest heaving up and down. You watch his eyes trail down to admire the mess he made on your stomach.

“You look good like this,” the blonde comments, picking up a little glob of his seed between gloved fingers. “We should do this more often, bunny,” he teases, pulling away from you and allowing your legs to fall limp. You were about to protest until Leon moved to pick you up bridal style, carrying you towards the bathroom that was just outside in the hall.

“Let’s get cleaned up, though. I’ve got a feeling you’re ready for a good sleep and some cuddling, yeah?” Leon coos, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You can only hum in agreement, nuzzling your face into his neck as he carries you to the tub.

hi. lol. idk how i’m still alive. i’m being worked to the bone. i hope everyone is well.

[kdogreads]

Waiting in line to pick up my nephew from pre-school and thinking about picking up the kids from school with Carmy

We exist in the amazing @thebearer ‘s universe ok 😍🫶

—

He is usually at work so you pick up the girls by yourself. It’s no big deal, of course, but their first question is always, “Is daddy home yet?”

You try to let them down easily everyday with a gentle, “No, but he will be soon,” and a promise to stop at Starbucks on the way home.

Today was a special day, though. It’s the day before Halloween, the crisp fall air swirls around your mom SUV (You told Carmen absolutely not to a minivan) when you pull into the pick up line and roll the windows down. And Carm had somehow managed to take the afternoon off.

The girls were so excited to wear their costumes to school this morning. Teddy dressed up as a magical-fairy-princess-slash-mini-Michael-Myers and Willow is a chef, just like her Daddy.

It was only a few minutes of chatting with Carm about the restaurant and what you needed from the grocery this weekend before the school bell rang, signaling the girls would be running out any minute. Carmen ducked down in the driver’s seat as much as he could while you got out of the car like normal.

Both girls came running towards you with some kind of Halloween craft and a small bag of candy, already squealing and excitedly regaling their spooky party and what all of their friends wore.

“Okay, okay! Let’s get home so we can make dinner for Daddy,” You prompted hoping they would start climbing into the car.

Both girls popped open their doors and slung their backpacks in. You had to look away to hide your smirk as the big reveal was about to happen.

“Katie had on the biggest princess dress I’ve ever seen, Mama, and James was a Power Ranger and— Daddy?” Teddy squealed with joy and caught Willow’s attention who also started giggling uncontrollably.

“Hi my babies! How was sch—uugh,” Carmen started but was met with an elbow to the ribs as the girls started climbing over each other to get in the front seat and hug him first.

A chorus of giggles and kisses filled the air and your heart. You ducked your head a bit in embarrassment when someone’s knee bumped into the car’s horn, but the smiles in the cars nearest to you melted away your worries. It seems the parents and teachers nearby thought the sweet reunion was just as precious as you did.

“Mama! Did you know Daddy was in here?” Willow questions you with a hand on her hip. Boy were you in trouble when she got a little older and a little sassier.

“Alright, alright, girls. Get in your seats, yeah? We have a surprise for you at home,” Carmen finally put an end to the adorable cuddle puddle happening in front of you.

“A surprise?” Both girls squealed as they climbed back into their own spots. Carmen simply wiggled his eyebrows in the rearview mirror as giggles filled the car yet again.

You could feel the buzz in the air as they excitedly discussed what it could be. You piped up only once with a solid, “Nope,” when someone said something about a puppy.

You spent the evening carving pumpkins Carmen and you had picked out earlier that day and drinking warm apple cider that had been steeping on the stove all day.

It was a simple fall activity day, but it filled your heart to the very brim with love for your perfect little family.

—

A/N: I could die I love them 😭😭 thank you again to my idol for creating such an in-depth universe for us to live in our delulus 🫶❤️

[maxwapan]

Instead of posting pointless callouts, use your brains.

tldr: some of yall need to learn what a fucking block button is

Genuinely what is so hard about pressing the block button? Like omg I promise no one cares about your fuckass callout posts or rants. Like some of these people are embarrassing as hell. If you get triggered by shit on the internet, it’s YOUR decision on wether or not you want to interact or block and move on with your life. Like brother, i’m not going to throw a fit and freak out over some post that just so happened to contain weird shit on it. You know what I do? I MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE. Because I got better shit to worry about than some random ass fic on tumblr.

You like ddlg? Cool. Doesn’t hurt me or anyone, I don’t care. You like incest? Good for you! You like noncon? Okay! Like do y’all see how easy it is to just smile and nod? Trust, policing what people post and enjoy, is not going to change shit. It’s just annoying as fuck. People pick and choose, because some of the shit you all consume wouldn’t be considered normal either, going by what you all say.

According to all of your logic, blood kinks, knife kinks, gun kinks, piss kinks, and etc. should not be normalized either. Murder shouldn’t be written about, especially gore. Which is fucking moronic, considering how RE is built on violence and gore. Please, learn how to separate fiction from reality.

Many people are fans of iconic slasher films and horror movies. Michael Myers is a rapist and a murderer. But guess what? No one CARES! Because he’s not REAL. I could go on with so much more examples, but you should get the point by now. Hopefully. Dark content is everywhere, why is it now that it’s weird? Makes no fucking sense.

I get that some of you don’t want your precious white boy’s image to be tainted or defamed or whatever, but trust, Leon Kennedy is not reading these fics nor would he care. ‘He’s not a rapist or into incest!’, well he also wouldn’t call you ‘sweetheart’ or whatever cheesy bs fluff fics contain nowadays. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? It’s all OOC. We KNOW he’s not a horrible person or an incredibly affectionate lover, but people write whatever they want. And no one’s going to stop them! Not the posts clogging up the tags or the weird asks.

There’s so much more, but the main arguments that keep being repeated are ‘it’s weird’ and ‘if you write about it, you’re probably going to do it in real life’. That take is so fucking stupid I can’t help but laugh. Same bs as white moms claiming their son is going to shoot some place out just because he plays violent video games. The whole point? SEPARATE FICTION FROM REALITY. And if you don’t like something? IGNORE IT? Why are you willingly engaging like omg are you stupid or dumb.

OH AND. ‘kids could see this!’ When will you all learn that no matter what you do, you cannot control what a person sees or decides to interact with. Especially minors. I’m willing to bet half of a smut writers followers are minors. Guess what? People lie all the time, about their ages and whatever else. It’s the fucking internet, of course they do. It’s not the responsibility of the blog owner to take care of children. The most they could do is plaster a big fat MDNI on their blog, that’s it. It’s the job of the parents to control what their kid watches or consumes, and we can’t exactly help with that. So don’t pretend to gaf about minors like omg.

Anyways. I’m too lazy to continue writing like I just needed to say this because some of you are slow. Me and many others are going to continue to write whatever the fuck we want. In conclusion? Block if you don’t like it LMAO. I don’t care about what some rando has to say on the internet.

[w1zard0foz]

as requested: watching days of future past again (no one asked for this)

some thoughts:

(fun fact: this is the first x-men movie i watched in theaters)

charles and erik finishing each others sentences

“its going to take the two of us side by side at a time when we couldn’t be farther apart”

i can’t explain why but this man- this man right here (charles) got 50 times hotter when his life fell apart

the chess board abandoned mid-game

“especially someone he loved”

hank mentioning erik first in the list of things charles lost (he knows what they are)

im sorry erik being imprisoned for killing jfk is the funniest fucking thing to me

OH MY GOD CHARLES WITH HIS SUNGLASSES ILL NEVER FORGIVE APOCALYPSE FOR TAKING HIS HAIR (james mcavoy gender envy- literally just everything about him- the hair, the voice, the stance, the mannerisms, I NEED TO BE HIM)

AHHHH PETER MAXIMOFF MY LOVE!!

“i’m holding your neck so you don’t get whiplash” “what” “whip… lash…”

“i’m not very good with violence” *charles punches erik in the face*

THE WHOLE ELEVATOR SCENE

OH MY GOD JUST FUCK ALREADY

“i couldn’t disobey you even if i wanted to”

the way charles grabs erik

BEST FUCKING SCENE IN THE MOVIE I LOVE YOU PETER

THE WHOLE INTERACTION ON THE PLANE

“YOU ABANDONED ME!! YOU TOOK HER AWAY AND YOU ABANDONED ME!!”

“fancy a game? it’s been a while” “i’m not in the mood”

i take it back jfk being a mutant is the funniest thing to me

they play gay chess anyway

ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS BRINGING THIS CHESS BOARD EVERYWHERE ????

“we’ve come for you. erik and i- together”

“erik was right. humanity does this to us”

erik and his balls

SCOTT MENTIONED !! SCOGAN CONFIRMED CANON !!

“ERIK..!!”

i’m tired of pretending that ian mckellen isn’t just as cunty, if not more cunty, than michael fassbender

“all those years wasted fighting each other, charles. to have a precious few of them back”

THEY HOLD HANDS

i NEEEEEEED more cherik edits with ian mckellen and patrick stewart. the content is there, it’s good, it’s gay, someone make them rn !!

SCOGAN CRUMBS !!!!

“good to see you scott”

AUUGGGHHHHH

sorry i have a lot of thoughts about this movie- it’s very special to me

i’ll do apocalypse next

[actually-azi]

GOD'S INEFFABLE GAME

I've seen this headcanon/theory here and there and I love it, so I felt the need to lay it all out. Hold on tight, yall.

Everyone knows how perfect Aziraphale and Crowley are for each other. The Angel of the Eastern Gate and the Serpent of Eden, the sword and the snake - they've been drawn together since before the beginning.

The way that these two compliment each other seems almost perfect. They each have what the other one lacks; they challenge and make each other better. It seems a bit... ineffable.

But then, it happens again? (if it happens again, it'll seem like an institutional problem!) Seemingly against all odds, the Grand Duke of Hell and the Supreme Archangel fall in love. Beelzebub and Gabriel, probably the most unlikely pair, end up fitting together so perfectly that they become each other's heaven and hell.

And here's the part where I'm reaching a bit more since I'm leaving what we know to be canon, so take it or leave it. But have you seen the way that Dagon, Lord of the Files, looks at the Archangel Michael? Could it be that they're also ineffably connected? Honestly, I dare you to tell me that they don't seem... smitten.

Next up, we have precious Muriel, 37th Order Scrivener, and "Disposable Demon" Eric. Equally low-ranking but lovable entities whose personalities match so well? Sure, sure, they never even speak or meet (yet!?) so maybe I'm delusional, but I have a strong feeling that these two will end up together. Personally I think they'll be something like a QPR, but who knows. They're just such perfect mirrors of each other, and as we all know, things are always on purpose when it comes to our lord and savior Neil Gaiman.

Even though angels and demons are supposed to be "hereditary enemies", it seems like they all end up liking each other just a little too much to be a matter of chance. We know that there are 10 million angels and 10 million demons... what are the chances that that was an accident? A perfectly even split, by coincidence? Nah. We know that God plays an ineffable game with the universe, and it seems like She might have been in the mood for a romantic comedy. Creating ten million sets of perfectly matched beings, and then putting them on opposite sides, seems like just a thing that God would do for Her own amusement. She's probably sitting back and laughing to Herself, seeing how long it takes Her creations to find their way back to each other.

[ryescapades]

angel baby pt.2 | blue block

— bllk boys as scenes/dialogues i’ve seen on tiktok

characters: itoshi sae, oliver aiku, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser x gn!reader

genre/warning: fluff, swearings, enemies to lovers (in kaiser’s part)

a/n: for the nth time, i promise i’ll put the read more thing later i just wanna get this posted trust 🤞😔 btw yall can clearly tell who’s my favourite out of all of them here lmfao

part 1 (isagi, bachira, reo, nagi, rin, barou)

sae in which you’re having a bad— no, probably the worst day ever. of course, you don’t want to make him worry or burden him with your problems. however, when he comes home hoping for you to welcome him into your loving arms, maybe with a kiss or two, only to see you in the bedroom wiping away the remainder of your tears while trying to hold in your sniffles, he feels something inside of him stirs at the sight of your red and puffy eyes. who was it that made you cry? who hurt you? who does he need to kill make them pay for making you shed your precious tears? “oh, it’s just my allergy. no need to worry, sae.” you answer when he asks what’s wrong. the frown on his face deepens, his voice changes to an octave lower as his tone is filled with murderous intent. “…is that so? well then i’m also allergic to bullshit. now tell me who made you cry, y/n.”

oliver in which he’s been trying to get with you for weeks and you always turn him down everytime, albeit in a roundabout way despite the two of you having been dancing around these feelings for too long. “how many goals do i have to score for you to go on a date with me?” he’d ask one day. “let’s see how many you can score by yourself. then i’ll let you know if i’m impressed.” you reply, giving him a nonchalant shrug. the man smirks, his dual-coloured eyes glinting. “we have a deal. i’ll dedicate them all to you, sweetheart.”

shidou in which you have fallen ill and have been staying in bed all day, trying to sleep all the sickness away. halfway through from falling asleep, your phone rings, a familiar name displays on the screen. “ryusei?” you inwardly cringe at how scratchy and hoarse your voice sounds. “baby, where are you?” he asks, the intent to affectionately annoy you suddenly disappears when he hears you. “at home. i’m kinda sick right now.” he hums, “aite, i’ll be around in ten then.” you furrow your eyebrows, “no no, it’s bad, ryu. i don’t wanna pass it to you.” at that, the man only grins in amusement. “babe, i’ll take anything you fucking give me. see you in ten.”

kaiser in which the two of you despise each other. well, you’re supposed to. that’s what you tell yourself anyway. but you wonder how you end up here, caged in between his arms as you glower at him. “tell me you hate me.” he murmurs, breath mixing with yours. “i hate you.” you say. “i hate you, i hate you—“ he kisses you, lips pressing hard onto yours and you let him. you let yourself move in sync with him as his hand comes up to hold your face tenderly. ‘i hate you so much that sometimes i can’t think of anything else but you’, you want to tell him but you don’t, because you know he knows.

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Corey Cunningham Headcanons:

❝ If I can’t have her… No one will. ❝

[SFW Headcanons + No Gendered Terms]

Content Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Stalking, Mentions of Murder/Violence, Possessive and Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation/Gaslighting, Mention of Previous Abuse.

A/N: Call me Saul Goodman the way I’ll defend this man. He did nothing wrong. He was simply being silly!!!!

Post-Michael Era:

> Corey knows how to disguise himself to look harmless which is how he wants you to view him. No one else’s opinion matters on him besides yours.

> He doesn’t know what it is but you somehow made him feel normal and yet so… alive. That’s what made his life turn to you completely.

> Corey appears like a regular dorky, shy, boy next door type. That’s what made him so charming. He wouldn’t want you to know how dangerous he really was.

> After a shitty day, he just wants to sit down and talk with you. Over the phone or in-person, he finds your voice to be comforting.

> He sometimes secretly records your voice to replay it over and over again to soothe him if he can’t get to you.

> Corey somehow can always bump into you. It’s funny. It’s almost like he’s stalking you or something. And of course, it’s because he is and memorized your schedule the moment he saw you.

> Corey can’t help but claim you as his even before you two began dating because in his mind, no one could save you like he could. He was your hero. He’d make you see that soon.

> He’s always sweet to you. Showering you in affection and slowly manipulating you to believe only he can help you. You don’t need friends. You need him.

> Corey needs to feel needed by you. When he starts seeing you rely on him more and more, he knows he’s won. He has you just as he liked.

> Friends aren’t spending as much time with you recently? He’s right there to vent to. Parents getting on your ass about something? Hey, he knows what that’s like. Partner making you feel insecure? Corey will have you feeling like a precious diamond.

> And once you’ve realized Corey is the one, he’s more than overjoyed but he just gives a small smirk and wraps his arms around you.

> He’s the definition of “hates everyone but you” type. Everyone else is insufferable to him but nothing you do can bother him.

> Now that he has his love, finding targets becomes so much easier. Anyone who bothers you simply becomes a missing person who Corey led to Michael.

> Corey wouldn’t tell you about it until it became a true achievement in his mind. Say you had an abusive ex or a cheating ex, something along those lines. Corey would lead you to his “surprise” of that ex’s corpse and proclaiming his absolute love for you.

> Because to him, being willing to kill and going through with it is the ultimate form of devotion.

> Corey’s main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Quality Time.

> Corey wants you to feel like you need him and can’t live without him. So he makes you dependent on him.

> He’ll go out of his way to make inconveniences for you so he could fix them.

> Your car somehow broke down and you have no idea how? Corey’s there to save the day. You swear you had your alarms set that morning but they didn’t go off? Corey can pick you up and drop you off. “Accidentally” got food poisoning so now you’re sick for a few days? Corey is there to take care of you.

> He’s always just conveniently there and so helpful! It’s all because he knows you so well.

> Also any time of the day is time to spend with him. He’s incredibly clingy and feels just off if you aren’t beside him.

> Like everything is dimmer when you aren’t around so he has a tendency to sneak off during his lunch breaks to stop by to see you.

> Late at night, he’ll text to look out your window and there he is: flower in hand and a sweet smile as he invites you on a night out.

> His favorite is anywhere with a nice overhead view of the lit-up city. Maybe a rooftop or something and he just has you in his arms, right where you belong.

> Corey’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

> Before you actually got into a relationship, Corey CRAVED your touch. He’d go out of his way to get it. Having his hand linger on yours if he gives you something, insisting for a hug when you vent, etc.

> Now that he has you, there is nothing better than feeling you.

> When you grab his hand if you feel nervous or scared, he’s over the moon. He wants to be your protector and the fact that you know that is perfect to him.

> He likes to be littered in kisses in reward for him doing well. Corey becomes more like Pre-Michael era when it comes to affection. Just an absolute puppydog looking for attention.

> Corey doesn’t like being away from you. It’s kind of like a separation anxiety where he’s worried being away from you means you’re in danger.

> So the best way to make him happy is to surprise him with your presence!

> Casually stopping by his work, claiming your car needs to be fixed when everything is fine just so you can see him.

> Asking for him to hang out randomly for no reason at all other than to be beside him. He’ll immediately swing by and pick you up the moment he opens the door to cuddle with you.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[luminouslywriting]

The Snow Stork (since several of you asked about the car and being snowed in haha)

Summary: In which a snowstorm leaves John Brady and his wife stranded in a snowbank and things get a little heated. Warnings apply and remember kiddos, I don't write full smut haha! Written in headcanon style! Feel free to keep sending me asks or requests! I'm having so much fun :) Also shoutout to @precious-little-scoundrel since she inspired some of the bones for this! 🥰🫡

-A Christmas Eve party for the adults only in the Brady Family was an annual thing. It was the best party of the year and consisted of all of the good adult fun that the children couldn't participate in—spiked eggnog, some spicy stories, dancing and kissing under the mistletoe, and a couples' gift exchange.

-Every year since John Brady first fell in love with you, you've dutifully gone. And in the last four years, your parents have lovingly volunteered to watch the three musketeers that are the Brady Bunch—a darling little girl known as Anna, a precocious three year old known as little John, and a sweet little two year old known as Michael.

-Three children in four years has kept you and John Brady BUSY with caring for the house, him working, and managing the little cookie monsters that just wanna hear their dad blast the saxophone (but really, who could blame them?)

-It's a rare thing when you two get the chance to go away together, even for a few hours. Fortunately for you two, you've mastered the art of quickies and learning how to be discreet with very nosy children in the house (who you of course adore).

-So it's after this party where John's hands have been lingering a little too long at the hem of your dress, maybe you've had a *little* too much of the eggnog, and maybe you're both feeling like giddy teenagers again (although you're really not that old haha) and the hour drive home seems to not be long enough.

-Maybe it's the way that the snow is falling just heavy enough and the windshield wipers can't keep up

-Maybe it's the way that there is certainly ice on the roads (though you've both seen and driven through worse)

-Maybe it's the way that you're still humming Sinatra under your breath and he finds that SEXY as HELL

-But John Brady, ever the practical and timely man that he is, he keeps glancing down at his watch and wondering how bad it would be to just pull off to the side of the road?

-After all, you haven't been gone that long and it's entirely possible that the roads could get worse

-And you're his most precious cargo so he needs to take care of you in every way 😌

-But he's glancing over at you every few minutes, right hand still entwined with your left hand

-And he knows that people have done much crazier things to get alone time with their wives

-So of course, he makes a suggestion about the roads being too bad to drive through at the moment and maybe you should pull off to the side of the road

-He's flown through worse and you both know it

-But neither one of you is complaining when he quickly places the car in park, just off the side of the road and near a stretch of trees

-After all, he can barely see the road. But you know what he can see? You

-So of course, he's taking the opportunity to sweetly kiss your hand and tell you that he's missed having alone time with you

-And then you're shivering (for more than one reason)

-That's the only invitation he needs

-After all, John Brady takes marriage more seriously than the damn war. If you're cold, that is his God-given responsibility and privilege to fix and help you with.

"Body heat is better than layers."

-So of course the next thing you know, he's ducking over into the passenger side of the car

-And for the first time in a LONG time, there's no kids to interrupt, no meal that's burning downstairs, no one calling you on the phone, and not a single work-call or piece of homework for him to grade

-The car has been lovingly christened the Brady-Maker since the conception of your first child but you're about to put that entire encounter to shame

-Lingering kisses and warm breaths, hands squeezing and massaging at flesh to keep the other warm, fingers slipping below waistlines and dresses, tights and garters are RIPPED, obscene gasps and moans are spilling from the car—and the car might be shaking a *little* too much from the flipping positions and fun that you two are having

-So it's really unfortunate that in the middle of your second orgasm of the night, neither one of you notices the fact that a bunch of snow has just fallen from the trees above and literally lands on the car. Not just once. Not just twice. But several times.

-When he's removing his belt and attempting to position himself right in the dark, it's at this unfortunate cock-block of a moment that he realizes that the snow has indeed solidly built up around the car.

-So try as the two of you might (and you certainly try), the car is well and good stuck and there's just no way to get out of the car or to even attempt to get to anywhere with a phone until the snow has let up or morning has arrived.

-It's very fortunate at this point that you were already so proficient and skilled at conserving body heat by doing some *ahem* active martial activities

-Because what else are you supposed to do? Sit there and cuddle? Nah, that's not for you or for him

-Of course, your parents are wildly panicking—because you two were supposed to be home HOURS ago

-But you know what? Neither John Brady or you is about to miss the chance to have some alone time, because who KNOWS when that could happen again? And for a whole night? It's really just science and common sense at this point and it's a real sacrifice that he's making by making love to you in that car.

-When you two finally show up, hours later in the mid-morning, the next day—your hair still messy and makeup certainly ruined (and missing tights and garters on top of it all), and he looks like he's just had the best night of his life—

-Is it really any wonder that this is how Brady Child #4 came into existence?

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 26/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 27

I wish this was longer but death goes by faster than you think.

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

Lucifer thought it was a myth, you know, the idea that life flashes before your eyes when you're dying.

But as he recalls everything that happened since the beginning beginning, he wonders if he is reliving it all in a loop. Can a memory experience it as well? Can a memory exist within a memory? He doesn't know if he's just a copy of a copy, and that thought terrifies him.

But this feels real. Dying, that is.

Roo: You were always so arrogant.

A voice echoed somewhere. It was Roo, appearing suddenly like she always does.

Arrogant or misunderstood? Lucifer replied internally, voice laced with a hint of weariness.

Roo: Does it matter now? You're dying, fallen. Even you cannot cheat fate.

Oh Father, this is really happening. He's really going to die; just when he found new people to care about, someone to love again, and reconnected with his daughter—he's going to leave them. Leave Alastor. The Sins. God, Charlie.

He wants to spend the rest of eternity making her happy. He wants to tell her more stories of his good times in Heaven and Eden. To teach her how to properly use her powers. To watch her fulfill her dreams. Damn it, he wants to see her get married. To walk her down the aisle. To welcome Vaggie to their family. He wants to be there for every laugh, every tear, every triumph, and every setback. He longs to witness every precious moment of her life unfold.

It'snotfairIt'snotfair!It'snotfairIt'snotfair!It'snotfairIt'snotfair!It'snotfairIt'snotfair!

He wants to spend one more moment with Alastor. To kiss him. To hug him and never let go. He wants to find another stupid Marigold in every corner for him to find. He wants to hear Alastor's voice, to share in his laughter, to feel the warmth of his presence. He wants to be selfish and let Hell be destroyed—just please, 'Dad, please I just want to live one more day!'

He yearns to see Earth's sun rise one more time, to feel its warmth on his face as he sits on it's grassy plains. To share another meal, another conversation, another fleeting second of joy. He wants to hold onto the fragile, beautiful moments that made life now worth living. The thought of leaving now, of abandoning this newfound happiness, is unbearable. He’s desperate, clawing at the very fabric of existence for one more chance, one more breath, one more heartbeat.

How will Alastor learn to love again? How will the Sins cope with losing the person who raised them, who gave them their everything? How will Charlie-

How will Michael and the others...

But it's not them who he calls out to. Because he's also once a child. And like a child in their time of need, he calls out to his father.

'Father! Please! I need you! Don't let them take me yet, DAD PLEASE!'

Lucifer wants to scream it all out, but he only spits out blood as the sword of his older brother impales him right in his heart. For a moment, he thinks it is Michael holding the sword—that he has betrayed him again.

The relief he feels when he realizes it is the exorcist who just stabbed him almost makes him forget what's happening.

Almost.

Lute pushes the sword further into him and twists it. Shit! It hurts like a bitch. He could probably destroy her now, but he's honestly too shocked to do anything. He's frozen in place, but his entire body is shaking.

Roo: This is it, fallen.

The battlefield is chaos and screams, but he can't hear any of it—only a dark, broken laugh from Lute.

Roo: Make them pay for it.

Her eyes are pure black now, and Lucifer knows that there's only a sliver of sanity left in her. They are both dying here today.

One way or another.

They don't move and it feels like an eternity before he finds the strength to speak without coughing blood.

Lucifer: Exorcist.

Lute: What? Here to say your last words?

He ignores her taunts and keeps his voice calm.

Lucifer: Tell me again. What is your name?

She digs the weapon deeper and gets all up in his face. If she had more control of her mind, she would not answer and would spit in the devil's face. But she's losing it.

So she answers.

Lute: I am Lute. Leader of the exorcists. The first man's former lieutenant. The angel who just rid the world of the devil.

It's funny, really. Getting killed by Michael's sword wielded by an angel named Lute. Guess that part about "the instrument of Heaven will be the Devil's slayer" bullshit in the prophecy was spot on.

It's funny so he laughs.

He feels himself slipping away and Roo clawing her way up. There's a distinct sound of cracking, and he sees that it's his skin breaking apart like he's a porcelain doll. But he pays it no mind.

Lucifer: I have to congratulate you, Lute.

Lute: Oh yeah? Why's that?

His laughter fades, replaced by a somber tone.

Lucifer: See. I may have damned humanity.

Her eyes narrow, suspicion mingling with her fading sanity.

Lucifer: But you. Ohhhhh you.

He continues, a dark smile tugging at his lips.

Lucifer: You've just damned Heaven.

Then.

Then, the light fades from Lucifer's eyes as life slips away, and his body slumps against his brother's blade.

He's glad to have at least something familiar for comfort.

Someone calls the angel's name that made her pull the sword out of him and jump back.

The devil falls to the ground, motionless. And for a moment, everything is quiet, and then—

'Finally. I can sleep.'

What happens after is a cautionary tale.

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

So.

I'm sorry?

This was always how this was going to go.

Also one more update before this is done!

Please let me know what you guys think! I'd love to hear your comments <3

Do you guys think this is entire AU was just Luci's life flashing before him?

[aealzx]

Fishing his cell phone from its pocket wedged under his shell, Raphael hit the speed dial for Mikey. The easiest way to check on him was just to call him after all. Especially since they had two additional bases now that he and Leo were taking turns manning for this rotation. That explained why Leo had been caught since the other three weren’t with him. But it didn’t explain why their alarms hadn’t been tripped. Unless Leo had been outside the base on patrol, like he sometimes did when he was restless.

Okay Mikey that’s five rings, pick up the phone-

“You’re speaking to the greatest turtle of all time, hero of the realms, Nexus Champion, Michael Angelo Spliterson.”

For once Mikey’s voice was a welcomed relief instead of a complete annoyance, and Raphael found himself smirking instead of wanting to throttle him. “I’m gonna beat you for that, bozo,” Raphael responded, more on reflex than an actual threat.

“Awww, but Raphy buddy, you’d actually have to win against me for once to do that,” Mikey shot back. Harmless banter at this point. Despite the hundreds of sparring matches they’d gotten into, Raphael still hadn’t managed to win against Mikey even once. But they had saved each other's lives often enough it no longer truly mattered.

“Well get over here then.”

“Uh, I’ll pass,” Mikey declined quickly. “Got the ole second base to watch over y’know. Can’t leave her on her own. What would Don say if I just abandon-”

“I mean it Mikey. Get over here, Leo’s been caught by Augustine,” Raphael interrupted, ton growing completely serious now.

“HUH-?!” Mikey’s outburst cracked over the speaker and made Raphael pull the phone away from his ear. “Whadda you-?? Start with that you-! I’ll be right there!”

The call ended with a beep before Raphael could give a retort, but he just sighed and lowered the phone to tap a different speed dial. They would need their usual backup for this one, and he also had some words to get out. Thankfully this time his call was answered on the second ring.

“Yo Raph, what’s up? Miss me that much?”

Casey. The one that had been with Leo on base sitting duty that night. “Say goodbye to your son, then get back to home base asap. I’m gonna kill you for losing my brother,” Raphael growled simply, then took his turn to end the call without a goodbye. It would be better to talk to both Mikey and Casey at the same time, in person.

Once both people were contacted Raphael slipped his phone back into its place and approached Don, raising a brow as he was mildly impressed once again by how fast his genius of a brother was manipulating his precious computer. Touch screens and a custom keyboard really sped up his process, as did state of the art equipment. Coming to stand at his shoulder, Raphael remained quiet, knowing Don would speak when he formulated his thoughts enough around what he’d found.

Sure enough, it was only minutes of watching screens flashing by incomprehensibly that Don started his report. “Interesting. I ran an analysis for interdimensional breeches, and there’s a significant outlier from the usual comings and goings of people like the Daimyo and the others we’re used to visiting.”

“So…….,” Raphael started, a request for Don to pause and let him catch up with his own thoughts. “Augustine succeeded in creating an interdimensional machine despite us having stolen what she needed for it?”

“Yes…. and no,” Don confirmed and denied. “It wasn’t stable. The bridge between dimensions was quick, and horribly uncalculated. Like a misfire from trying to modify a weapon. I think she was trying something else, and got more than she bargained for.”

“An accident,” Raphael reworded simply, then sighed. “Great. And we still don’t have enough evidence to get her locked up?”

“Not yet. But this might be a tipping point once we get it solved,” Don responded with a mirthless chuckle. If only it were that simple. Augustine was eccentric, and unstable, but apparently still too valuable for the EPF to be willing to let her go. “I’ve got a good guess where she’s hiding out now. Three of the signatures converge at one point, including the one that matches the readings I’ve remotely pulled from our third outpost. And the location is part of our list of potentials.”

“...Texas? Really?” Raphael complained, raising a brow when the location was singled out on the display.

“Yep. Texas.” Don nodded, then caught sight of an entry register on another screen and turned to meet the one who’d arrived.

“Guys! You gotta help me- I think Leo’s gone missing! You gotta help me find him.” Casey’s arrival to the home lair was announced via a stomping run as he shouted his distress, one of Leo’s swords in his hands. “He went off to do a patrol like he does, but then he didn’t come back, and then I went looking for him to come back here, but all I found was his sword thing, and he never leaves that laying around. I think he got snatched! Do you have a tracker or something on him?”

As Casey started to explain his side of the story, Raphael could only fold his arms as both he and Don stared blankly at their friend. It may have seemed like a weird ploy with ulterior motives, but after having spent so many years with the man they both knew that Casey wasn’t faking anything. He just apparently didn’t have two dots connected in his mind just yet.

“....Did you figure that all out before or after I called you?” Raphael asked simply, continuing to give Casey a dry look.

“What? Uhhhhh…… After-.... Ohhhhh,” Casey seemed confused at the apparent unrelated question. But Don and Raphael could swear they could see the dots in Casey’s mind clicking together as he remembered what Raphael had called about in the first place. “You guys already know. Heheh. Uhm….. So where we going?”

Don could only chuckle as Casey sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Before he could answer Casey the room gained another body as Mikey came dashing in. “I’m here! Let’s go! Bags are packed! Are we flying or driving?” Mikey rushed, stopping to jog in place once he reached the landing the rest were on.

“Hold on, bro. We haven’t even gone over a plan yet,” Raphael chastised, though he couldn’t hold the amusement from his tone.

“You can debrief me on the plane. Or truck. Whichever. Time’s a wasting,” Mikey continued, still jogging in place. “Did you get to talk to him? Or get a picture? Bad guys love sending kidnapping pictures. Does he look- Oh!”

At the mention of a picture Don clicked a few keystrokes to change the view of the monitors back to the video they had received. Catching sight of it, Mikey abruptly stopped moving, turning to gape at the picture. “Woah….. Ohhhh no, the crazy lady grabbed some other poor mutant ninja turtles inste- wait- is that ME? Mini me? He’s so small. But the orange headband is my thing- ohhhhh we didn’t stop her, did we.”

Raph had to snort at Mikey’s reaction to seeing the other two mutant turtles that had been kidnapped along with their brother. Only then did he start moving to comply with Mikey’s earlier prompting to get going. “Accidental cross dimension kidnapping. Is what it looks like anyway. We won’t know for sure until we ask their names once we rescue them.”

“Alriiiight. Time to finally bash this lady’s head!” Casey cheered, rotating his arm with a fist and moving to follow Raph.

“Ah ah. Not you. People with kids under the age of ten are strictly on backup duty, remember? You stay here and keep an eye on April… and Master Splinter since I’m assuming he’ll be on babysitting duty again. Keep them and Junior out of trouble, alright?” Raphael countered, whipping around to poke Casey in the chest and push him back.

“Awwwww maaann. Really? That applies even for rescue missions?” Casey whined, though he didn’t seem too upset about it. He did get to stay with April and their son after all.

“It applies for all missions. Especially breaking into government bases,” Don confirmed, slinging his prepacked backpack over his shoulders. “I’ve already messaged April, she and Leatherhead will meet you here and infiltrate their systems to give us support. Make sure Master Splinter gets to bed on time too, will you?”

“Guhhhhh, finnnee. Just punch someone good for me, alright?” Casey relented, making a show of throwing his head back in a pout. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your dad too. Just don’t take too long.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Raphael assured. “You better not eat all the nachos,” he added as a warning, pointing a finger at Casey as he and the others left the raised terrace.

“Stealth plane Mikey. We’re headed to Texas,” Don directed, taking the lead to their underground hangar.

“Texas?” Mikey repeated, pausing verbally to consider a thought. “You think we can grab any kolaches while we're there?”

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Previous Next (image of bloody mouth)

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03 Mikey is just fine X'D He's just at a different, smaller base.

by the way, the 03 boys are in their 30s for this, if it wasn't apparent from them being scarred up and having more armor and stuff X'D

[actual-changeling]

when gabriel/jim (jabriel?? gim?????) talks about his "one particular person", aziraphale's smile is such a blink and you will miss it moment but so incredibly precious and we don't pay enough attention to it.

so, welcome to another round of alex's unhinged meta corner where i over-analyse micro expressions while losing some more braincells.

firstly, here's a clip of that scene just so we are all on the same page since i don't know how much time everyone else spends watching that show. don't ask me it's probably at least 6 hours a day at this point

what i want to focus on is aziraphale's reaction to jabriel's words right after "person". did i slow the clip down and then go through it frame by frame to get the following screencaps? yes. yes i did.

there are two parts to this, the spaced-out smile and then his shock/fear. also before we start can i just say how fucking insane whoever made the trailer was for putting the 1941 dinner scene RIGHT THERE??? with THAT expression??????? yeah. no. i need therapy for that alone.

anyway.

while he is talking, aziraphale is looking at jabriel the entire time, but honestly, i don't think he is actually seeing him, he's neck-deep in his memories of crowley. he as that sparkle in his eyes he tends to get around crowley/looking at crowley and that smile appears rather slowly (or as slow as something can be while lasting less than a second).

personally, i'd call that expression "completely and utterly in love" or besotted if you wanna keep it simple. a content little smile meant for no one except himself, the kinda look he probably wears in private while calling crowley to ask him to come hang out. aziraphale loves him and in this short moment, he knows it - and so do we.

when jabriel (preferable over gim, in my opinion) trails off, aziraphale remembers that hey, wait a minute. that's my boss. that's the archangel fucking gabriel. he can't know about me and crowley.

at this point, neither we nor he know what exactly is up with jabriel, so there is a very real danger that everything aziraphale says or shows will be reported back to heaven. the shock sets in, the smile disappear and aziraphale falls from cloud 9 (pun intended) and lands face first back on earth.

while aziraphale does not have crowley's memory of what exactly went down in heaven when they tried to burn him to a crisp, he has always been incredibly anxious around gabriel and the other archangel. he is fidgeting, unable to stand still or even keep his gaze from flicking around. the only moment he calms is, you guessed it, when he is zoned out and thinking of crowley.

the very real fear that settles on his face is not just about himself, it is mostly about crowley. if heaven knows, hell will, too. everyone knows about the back channels, most just try and keep up plausible deniability. the fact that it is michael who seems to be directly in contact with hell for the most part and not gabriel is worthy of its own post at some point.

another thing worth mentioning is that aziraphale is so afraid, in fact, that he physically backs away from jabriel and gets as much distance between them as possible. jabriel looks like a lost toddler, very non-threatening, but the trauma runs so deep that it does not matter how much of a danger he really is right now. he has been a constant threat for over six thousand years, you cannot deconstruct your view of a person, especially your boss, that quickly. not even if they turn up with total amnesia on your doorstep. naked.

this was less unhinged than some of my other posts but i think this is a moment that gets overlooked a lot. at least i haven't seen anyone talking about it yet since we are all understandably focused on the ending of episode 6.

[lehguru]

COMFORT + KAISER & NESS

how kaiser and ness (separate) would comfort their s/o!!

warnings: this was a request! gender neutral reader; not proofread at all tbh + requests are open ! check pinned post for requesting rules

michael kaiser

kaiser isn't someone that is used to comforting others. his demeanor while trying to give positive affirmations might come off as quite rude and unsensitive, even if he really didn't mean to act like that. but when he is approaching his s/o to help them with something, i can see him being purposefully more cautious than he would be with any other person.

for as long as they need, kaiser would tune down his egoism and "narcisism", giving his s/o his entire focus and love. he might try to comfort them with words, but those aren't really his forte; the maximum he would be able to say without sounding like he doesn't care (simply out of not knowing what to do) is "i'm here, baby."

instead of words, i really think he would hug or make little things for his partner. if you want to cuddle, he will open his arms and let you rest your head on his chest, his hand rubbing your back or your hair, if he can. if you don't feel up to cuddling, yet you're still feeling bad, he would make you a meal so you could eat, or give you his hoodie so it would be more comfortable for you. he's all ears for anything you might need and he would make sure to let you know that is okay to ask for help if you need to.

lastly, if his partner simply want to be distracted, his confident personality would come in handy. he would start telling stories about his trainings or his crazy fans, he would also make jokes about how "i'm the best boyfriend ever, look at me!!".

alexis ness

ness is VERY good at comfort. whenever his partner came looking for comfort or he sensed they needed it, he would immediately give them their entire energy and focus; if he can't at that moment, he would make sure to leave them with something that could help them get through things alone for a little, until he can be there.

words of affirmation are definitely his speciality, the praises and comforting words he would mutter while hugging his s/o would definitely be more than enough to make anything bad go away. "i love you. you're important and so precious to everyone."

if that's not enough, he would just be there for them, his own eyes tearing up while seeing his darling in such distress. he would cling to them andpress light kisses over their faces once in a while, as a soft reminder that he is there and he will always be there.

the next day, whether his s/o is feeling better or not, he would buy them their favorite flower and write a love letter to go with it. throughout the day, he would order their favorite food, do all the house chores (he already does most of them, because he adores to do it), leave his comfiest clothes around in case his s/o wants to use them; overall, he would just make sure that they have an easy day, even if it means taking more burdens onto his shoulders.

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