#absolutely wonderful experience. never want to do it again. can’t wait til next time

[blanc-ci]

It’s been slow going so I give wip of that Merlin Au I keep promising

1 page out of the Many

[artsybelle1015]

Twisted Wonderland First Kisses

Pt. 2

small headcanons

reader has no specified gender.

warnings: blood on lilia’s part

Riddle: It hardly counts as a kiss, more of a peck if anything. With cheeks puffed and red, he leans in before pulling away once your lips made contact, dying of embarrassment.

Trey: Before the kiss happens, he asks what you want out of it, and he will fulfill that expectation. If you leave him up to it it will be a somewhat firm get gentle kiss as he holds your cheek.

Cater: Due to many insecurities and the disbelief of the situation, the kiss is rough and needy, he needs to make sure it’s real.

Ace: Instead of kissing like a normal person, it goes into a full blown makeout, he’s been waiting since forever to do this so it’s all the built up emotion being released.

Deuce: At first, he believes it’ll be a fast one due to his embarrassment, but once contact is made he doesn’t want to let go. Instead he pauses and pulls back to catch his breath, then softly kisses you again.

Leona: The kiss is deep and reassuring that he adores you. He is smirking the whole time too and pulling back midway to see your expression.

Ruggie: Once your lips touch, he can’t help but laugh out of nervousness, which makes him feel bad so he repeats the kiss until it ends up being proper (it takes some time).

Jack: He hovers over your face for a good minute before gently kissing you, he’s so soft and scared to hurt you, he doesn’t touch you with his hands unless you reassure him it’s okay.

Azul: Unfortunately, the first kiss is the worst from him, he made it quick with a peck and pretended it never happened, he overthought it the whole time and knew you weren’t satisfied… he was unprepared next time it’ll be better, he promises.

Jade: It takes way too long to actually get to the smooch, he’s too into teasing you, but once it does happen it’s honestly magical and you wonder where this experience came from by how perfect it was.

Floyd: Immediately his lips slam against yours, he’s pushing you against any surface and kissing you til the point you can’t breathe and have to push him off. This goes on for hours.

Kalim: Also quick on the kiss, he quickly uses tongue and turns it into a full blown makeout if given the go ahead to of course, mumbling every praise imaginable towards you and how wonderful this all is. If no makeout he is content with a kiss as is, but it will be deep and playful for sure.

Jamil: Opposite to Kalim, he’s rather shy about it and pulled his hood up beforehand. The kiss is really gentle with his smooth lips. Once he’s used to it after a few seconds, he calms down and melts in the feeling.

Vil: It was amusing to him as he elegantly pulled your face towards him, pressing a kiss so deep and long. He would only let go once he knew you were out of breath, then pulling back to admire your out of breath state.

Rook: With a gentle hold, he kisses you and dips you like this is the end of a waltz. Between breaths, he mumbles in french some praises towards you.

Epel: Despite his small stature, he has the roughest kiss of all. You both were turning purple at some point due to how long and firm it was.

Idia: Is in absolute disbelief and nervous, so once you peck he pulls back and can’t do it again, but to make up for it he kisses your neck all over and very slowly due to his shyness.

Malleus: It’s extremely long and sensual, it’s gentle and regular appearing, but he holds it for super long and allows breathing room just so he can keep his lips on yours for as long as possible.

Lilia: The bitch bites down teasingly on your bottom lip, smiling at you and staring intensely. He has no regrets on making you bleed.

Silver: The second most gentlest kiss given, he is super normal and chill about it, so it’ll be really sweet and he’ll pull you in for a snuggle.

Sebek: Makes a whole speech to procrastinate the kissing, basically you have to pull him in and show him that it’ll be okay. He was feeling flustered about the whole thing and not good enough for you, so once you show you want it he is melting.

[bex-la-get]

hello! can I request a fic where Nat noticed that Ethan is tired because of his new job as Chief, and she decided to do something to make his day brighter (or maybe she took care of him when they got home). I love your writings! ❤️

Nonny, I'm crying! This is so cute! Consider it done! (Also, I love you and I hope you're having a wonderful day! 😘)

Rating: T

Ethan looked tired.

Sure, he'd had exhausting days at work before but this was a new kind of tired. Almost exhausted. His shoulders held more tension, his temper was shorter than normal, and on several occasions, he'd come home and told Nat he'd make dinner, only to fall asleep on the sofa a few minutes later.

Natalie knew Ethan's job as Chief was going to be a lot for him but she didn't anticipate how hard the adjustment would hit him. And poor Ethan, so used to carrying everything on his own, anytime she asked how he was doing or if she could help, he always shook his head and told her he was fine; even when he clearly wasn't.

So, enough was enough. Both Ethan and Nat had this coming weekend off and she was going to make the best of it. Enlisting Sienna and Dani's help, she planned out the most relaxing weekend possible, doing all of the grocery shopping and chores she could possibly do before Friday night. Though she was now Head of the DT, her hours were significantly less demanding than Ethan's which allowed her to do all of these preparations right under his nose.

Come Friday, the apartment was ready for a completely relaxing and errand/chore-free weekend. Sienna had helped bake some goodies and Dani, bless her, had helped clean the apartment and cook several large meals that would last the couple several days at the least. Nat owed those two the biggest margaritas they'd ever had when this weekend was over.

At the end of her shift, Natalie made her way up to the Chief's office, determined to make him come home early. She found Ethan hunched over some paperwork at his desk, his shoulders so tense they were practically at his ears. "Baby," she said, walking into the room, "it's Friday night. Let's go home."

Ethan looked up and her heart tightened to see how red his eyes were. God, this poor man was going to work himself into burnout if he wasn't careful. Thank god she'd planned this weekend out for him to relax. "Hi, love," Ethan said, leaning back and stretching his neck out. "What time is it?"

"Time to go home," Nat answered.

Ethan looked at the clock on his computer and sighed. "It's only five, Nat; I still have at least another hour's worth of paperwork to do."

Natalie shook her head. "Not tonight. Paperwork can wait 'til Monday. Tonight, we're going home and we're gonna relax. You especially." Ethan opened his mouth to argue but Nat cut him off with a firm kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, she was leaning over him, her hands resting on the armrests of his chair as she looked him in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how long its been since you last kissed me?"

He thought for a moment but shook his head, unable to answer. "Eight hours," she told him.

"What? That can't be right." He shook his head in disbelief.

"It is," she confirmed. "You have not kissed me since you dropped me off at the DT office this morning at 9am. So, you have a lot of kisses to make up to me. And you're going to do it at home." She kissed him again for emphasis.

He chuckled dryly. "I should know better than to try an win an argument against you," he mused. "But you're right; it's an absolute tragedy that I haven't kissed you enough today so I agree. Let's get out of here and I'll make up for all the kisses I missed."

Natalie smiled and stood up straight, extending her hand out to him. "Shall we go home, Dr. Ramsey?"

He took her hand in his and squeezed. "We shall, Dr. Cusack."

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

When they arrived home, the apartment looked and smelled amazing. A plate of Sienna's freshly baked cookies sat on the kitchen counter next to several serving dishes of food, courtesy of Dani. Nat made a mental note to herself that she owed those two several margaritas as a thank you.

Ethan looked around the apartment in awe, trying to figure out if they had walked into the wrong place. "What happened? This place hasn't been this clean in months."

Natalie laughed. "I may or may not have been planning this weekend for a while now. I enlisted Dani and Sienna's help and the three of us completely cleaned this place from top to bottom. Groceries are also taken care of, as is dinner and dessert, courtesy of the two best friends in the entire world," she gestured to the plates of food on the kitchen counter. "All you have to do is relax."

"Nat, I--" Ethan looked at her, speechless. "I don't know what to say. This was so thoughtful. Thank you."

She leaned up and kissed him softly, smiling when she pulled away. "Anything for you, my love. Now, go get comfy. I'll heat up dinner."

Ethan moved into the bedroom to change clothes while Nat turned on the oven and popped the serving dishes inside it. As she waited for the food to heat up, she grabbed a couple wine glasses and poured a bottle of Merlot into them. She was recorking the bottle when she felt two hands settle onto her waist and a pair of lips kiss her neck. "You didn't have to do all this, you know," Ethan murmured.

"Of course, I did," Nat said, turning around and securing her arms behind his neck. "You've been working so hard, you deserve a break. And we both have the weekend off so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to take a break." She ran her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. "You don't need to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders, my love. You're allowed to take it easy."

He sighed. "I know; I just... I don't want people thinking I'm not capable of doing the job. My predecessors are Harper and Naveen; both of whom are proper administrators. I've never been one for admin, you know that."

"Which is why you're so good for the job," Nat reasoned. "You don't look at things from an administrator's perspective; you look at them from a doctor's. A diagnostician's, if we're being picky. You know what it's like to be in the field with other doctors, putting patient care above everything else. Some administrators never get that kind of experience. You care about your patients and fellow doctors, which makes you the best kind of administrator. Don't worry about trying to be like Harper or Naveen; you just focus on being you. We will all be better for it."

He smiled and nodded. "I suppose I hadn't thought of it that way; thank you."

"You're welcome." She rested a hand over his chest, his pulse thumping beneath her fingers. "Just promise to take it easy, okay? If you keep going at your current rate, you're going to burn out."

"You're right; I've just been so focused on trying to do this right. But I can't do my job if I work myself into a tizzy. I'll take it easier from here on out, I promise." He leaned down and kissed her softly. "Thank you. For putting all of this together, for taking care of me, and for just being you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Nor I, you, my love," she said, resting her forehead against his. "I'll always be here to take care of you."

They held each other for a long moment, neither saying anything, just enjoying one another's company. When they finally broke apart, Nat pulled the warmed up food out of the oven and the two served themselves before plopping down onto the couch and turned on one of Ethan's favorite films, an old black-and-white one.

The conversation flowed easily between the two as did the wine. By the time the movie had ended, the couple had eaten more than their fill of dinner and dessert and were now cuddling on the sofa, Ethan wrapped tightly in Nat's arms, his head tucked under her chin as her fingers ran up and down his back. "Want to watch another one?"

"Hmm," he hummed. "You choose this time."

"You sure?" she asked. "'Cause I will 100% put on Pride & Prejudice if you give me control over the remote."

He chuckled and it was then that she realized his eyes were closed. "Whatever you want, love. I'm good. Just no drooling over Matthew Macfayden."

She smiled. "I make no promises, my love." Ethan simply hummed in response.

Turning on the film, Nat continued to run her fingers along Ethan's back, feeling his body relax under her ministrations. The movie had barely started when she heard his breathing even out and he fell asleep, tucked in her embrace. Natalie smiled and kissed the top of his head. "Rest easy, my love."

A/N: Hope you liked it, Nonny! 💙

[denkineptune]

lucifer, mammon, levi + secret pining

♡ yes yes im working on requests hehe

♡ just a kinda quick thing i wrote on a whim, idk man jdfkdjf i might do another with the next half of the brothers but this is all my creativity could pump out today, idk if i like it too much, but hey, writing is the only way to get better so have these crumbs

♡ characters: lucifer, mammon, leviathan

fic details: headcanons, 1.4k words, slight angst, fluff, sfw v pure, possibly ooc lucifer?? idk man i don’t know his character that well but for some reason i wanted to write him, gender-neutral reader

lucifer

↠most of the time, i don’t think that he’d keep his pining a secret. he’s a proud demon (avatar of pride, no shit) and he wouldn’t try to hide his feelings too much

↠of course, there’d occasionally be some form of denial, but he is quite the sadist so he’d probably enjoy knowing that you know of his feelings

↠with that being said, if he was secretly pining, something would have had to make him feel like that was the only option. maybe someone would try to harm you to get something from him (don’t forget he’s a ruler of hell), or diavolo forbade it somehow (unlikely, because diavolo is a lil shit and he’d enjoy seeing that unfold)

↠he’s not great at keeping it a secret, just because of his nature, but if he knew that he was forced to do so, he would take that shit to the grave. 

↠and by “because of his nature”, i mean that he’s not really secretive; he makes his intentions completely clear with his actions imo. he can keep a secret if it’s necessary, but otherwise, he’s not making much of an effort to hide things. if a secret comes out, it’s out

↠since you’re living in his house, there’s really no way to avoid you, so he interacts with you like a normal person would. maybe some “accidental” slips-of-the-tongue, praising you more than most would consider platonic, but not much else

↠but when you’re not looking, lucifer will look up from his paper work and admire you

↠he tends to defend you when one of his brothers says something even a little teasing, even though you constantly say you don’t need it

↠you likely have a sneaking suspicion that he feels something for you, but honestly he never does anything to confirm it, so nothing ever comes of your hunch

↠sometimes, luci will imagine a life where he was allowed to love you without having to worry about what others would do or say. he never really has his head in the clouds, but when his mind is otherwise unoccupied, he finds himself in a fictional world where you come to comfort him when he’s down, where you hold his hand and smile up at him, where you kiss him on the cheek and hug him just because you love him too

↠but of course, this is all fake

↠and lucifer will have to live a life silently watching you fall for another, just outside his grasp

mammon

↠he,,,,, he’s a dumbass. straight up- he’s an idiot. which, don’t get me wrong, is adorable and charming sometimes, but also can be kinda annoying. 

↠mammon thinks he’s being super sneaky about his feelings, but god, he’s obvious. i mean he blushes as soon as he sees you, doesn’t matter if you’re talking to him or not. he stumbles over his words and makes excuses to follow you around, claiming it’s because you can’t handle yourself, but everyone knows that he loves you- including, probably, you

↠i’m sorry but you’d have to be so oblivious to not notice his obvious pining- 

↠his brothers are so annoyed at his behavior,, like every time mammon makes an excuse to be near you, they just groan and roll their eyes because come on 

↠nothing prompts mammon to keep his feelings a secret, he’s just scared that he’ll lose you as a friend if he says anything. though, you do know, so it’s only a matter of time before you confront him about it, at which point, he will vehemently deny everything.

↠mammon’s a walking cliche, the living embodiment of the word uwu, who middle school boys would call a simp just because he’s nice. he melts any time you’re talking, even if what you’re saying isn’t something sweet. you bet he’s stayed up at night, thinking about you, wondering what being in a relationship with you would be like

↠would you be lovingly teasing? how affectionate are you with a boyfriend? would you play with his hair, let him fall asleep with his head in your lap, and hold him? what would your dates be like? do you like staying in, or would you rather go out? whatever you prefer, he’s alright with it, as long as he’s with you.

↠he doesn’t get much sleep on those nights....

↠it gets really bad, to the point where the people around mammon are practically begging him to confess. not for his sake or yours, but because he’s so,, obnoxious,,, he can’t talk about anything but you when you’re not around, he somehow manages to relate everything back to you in a beautiful way.

↠i think that he would refuse to say anything, though. he’s just really nervous, so you’d have to make the first move. he probably wouldn’t believe, at first, that you’re serious, thinking that it’s a prank rather than an actual confession.

↠once you assure him that everything is fine and that you do feel the same way, he gloats like a mf and does not stop for ages dlfkdl he’s precious, just let him be happy-

leviathan

↠he will ONLY keep his love a secret and i mean only 

↠ this mf will never reveal his crush on you because he is so,, anxious,, about everything. he’s very similar to mammon in that regard- he loves you so much, but if he confessed, what was he risking? you could be disgusted by him and stop talking to him altogether? you’re the only person who understands him, he can’t lose you

↠he has himself convinced that confessing to you is not worth the risk of you hating him, which is so sad c’mon man :((

↠with that being said, he won’t confess to you, there’s no chance of it. he manages to function semi-normally around you once he realizes his feelings, though if you get within a few inches of him, he’ll absolutely freak and run off, because he’s worried that he’ll get too flustered and you’ll catch on

↠he’s sure that you’d never like him back, but this doesn’t stop him from indulging in silly things that make his heart swell with love when he thinks of you, ex: playing games and using your name as the main love interest’s, sending you platonic love memes (you send some back, his heart stops), or writing letters to you spilling all of his feelings that he’ll never have the guts to send

↠he’s the kind to stare at you in class, get flustered when anyone teases him about his crush, and writes your name in cursive on all his school papers. his teachers are,,, confused,, to say the least

↠whenever you look at him and make accidental eye contact, his eyes dart away; he compares you to his favorite anime characters, and he’s even said that you’re more important to him than Ruri-chan on multiple occasions without being tsundere about it. 

↠levi might not want to confess to you, but that won’t stop him from trying to get you to fall for him. he gets pointers from asmo (an embarrassing experience, for sure) about things you like, he makes attempts to help you out without having to be asked, and tries to change his introverted behavior by offering to take you places for the day

↠being around you so much makes him anxious, he’s worried that he’ll slip up and reveal something you might not like, but he loves you too much to let you be around his idiotic brothers for longer than you have to be. if you spent too much time around mammon, well, levi’s not sure if he’d like you if you adopted his brother’s personality

↠you, once again, would need to make the first move. when you do, he deflects hard, almost trying to convince you that you could do better. 

↠he’s so insecure that he thinks that everyone else is a better option for you. everyone else is cooler, smarter, more confident. he’s just a geeky otaku with no social skills, why would you like him? you might need to do something drastic in order to convince him that, yes, you do like him, and yes, you are 100% sure that you’re not just ‘confused’

↠after that conversation, levi’s mildly panicked, too flustered to do anything right away, so you’ll have to wait til he calms down to talk to him any more. 

(although, bonus, while he’s cooling down, he buries his nose in your side, hiding his face, and it’s quite adorable.)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓅𝓉𝓊𝓃𝑒​​​​​☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[aweecrush]

Prologue

Tuesday, October 16th 2007

“Jesus, I can’t believe you’re actually in the fucking plane - took you long enough! If I had known it took a wedding to get your arse back home, I would have had a couple by now, for God’s sake .”

“Michelle, you promised you wouldn’t start! ” Clare’s reproachful voice rose.

“Aye, first, I didn’t promise shit, and second, I told you, she’s not chickening out so chill out - right Erin?”

Despite the culpability and shame pricking at her skin, her heart warmed at their traditional bickering she wished she’d hear more often. At their voices. And, most of all, at knowing that in a few hours, she’d get to hear them for real.

Feck, she’d missed these eejits.

“Well, I’m not actually in the plane yet, we’re waiting to board. And then I still have that stupid long flight, and then the stupid long wait at stupid London, so don’t wait up - but yes, I’m definitely on my way,” she promised, earning herself an earful of high pitched cackles and happy swears.

Her heart welled up.

“So, how is the bride doing? She wasn’t home when I called earlier, and all Mammy could talk about was how the caterer was driving her crazy and how aunt Sarah almost set her own hair on fire trying a new hairdo she’d like to nail for the ceremony.”

Michelle snorted. “ Yeah, hilarious so it was. You should have seen your dad’s face, mental. ”

“It was terrifying,” Clare corrected, apparently still shaken.

Then, perked up. “Orla’s going to look so cute though - I can’t wait for you to see the dress!” Erin tried to ignore the sting of not having been there for such an important moment.

“We’re still trying to convince her out of drawing anything on it, but I’m not sure we’ll win this one, to be honest. Also, we’ve got everything almost ready to go for the bachelorette party, although I do need you to help me stop Michelle from bringing the tons of drugs she wants to, because - ”

“For feck’s sake Clare, Orla would love it! The girl is tying the knot, she deserves to get properly shit faced.”

“She said she wanted something small!”

“She said she would have liked to have a little something with just the five of us the night before. She never said anything about the actual bachelorette party being small - or fucking boring for that matter!”

“Just the five of us?”

The words spilled out before she could stop them, stupid that she was. At the other end of the line, the girls went uncharastically silent, and Erin cursed herself.

Feck.

“I mean, that’s grand. It’s cool, I thought it was just going to be one big night for the bachelorette party before the big day, but - I mean, that’s even better! Grand - cool.”

Christ on a bike, that was pathetic. She was.

“Yeah...The thing is, Orla wanted a wee night with just us Derry girls the night before the bachelorette party, hanging at the bar and stuff you know, because - Well, just because.” Poor Clare was rambling now, in a typical panicked Clare kind of way. “And we thought - Well, then we thought about it, and it turns out it’s not going to work, just timing-wise and stuff, so - “

“So the point is we dropped it.”

“Right. Yep.”

Again, silence, only betrayed by the hammering in her chest that she hoped her friends wouldn’t hear over her cellphone.

“Oh okay, well - that’s a shame.” Her casual slash over the top fake disappointment tone did nothing to help convince anyone, of course, herself included. She winced.

She promised herself it wasn’t going to be like this, though. She wasn’t going to ruin this for anyone - not a chance.

For God’s sake, catch yourself on Erin.

Pushing all dangerous thoughts aside, Erin took a deep breath. “In any case, I’m sure it’ll all be fine - really fine.”

There were another few seconds of silence, and she could just picture the worried look they were sharing - probably very similar to the one they had that particular, fateful day. To the one they had again when she told them she was moving away. Then -

“You bet it’ll be fine - feck, it will be absolutely brilliant is what it is! Wait til you see my dress, Erin - my tits look amazing in it.”

*

As it turned out, running all over the city for work for the past ten days and dangerously flirting with the limits of sleep deprivation did have a perk: her whole, eight hours flight, Erin slept like a log.

(Truth was, she could have done without the look of contempt and the ‘Miss? You have drool on your face’ from that stupid flight attendant who woke her up when they landed, but still - all in all, it went well.)

The wait at Stansted airport, however, was pure hell.

Because of the jitters, mostly.

Growing up, despite how much she loved to complain about them, Erin had never actually considered living away from her family. Well, not that far, at least - she’d always known she would leave Derry after high school, which they did, and it was glorious. War or not, she had a pretty nice life as a child and then a teenager, but those college years and the first ones that had followed - they were the best of her life.

Still, it was only Belfast at the time, and Belfast was a two hours drive from home. Erin knew that at some point, she wanted to go out in the world, maybe live abroad for a while, but this - New-York, all on her own, away for so long? She hadn’t planned that. Didn’t, really - it all went so fast, in the end.

It was a good thing too, because if she had stopped and thought about it for too long, she wasn’t sure she would have gone through with it.

(Then again, what else could she have done?)

Despite her dreams, and her need for independence, and her eagerness to see the world, Erin had never thought that she’d leave her family for that far, for that long. Orla had come to see her once, thank goodness, but Jesus -

On the last picture her Ma had sent her, Anna had grown so much, she almost looked like a wee woman. She’d forgotten the exact colour of that lipstick aunt Sarah wore all the time, she couldn’t remember each wrinkle on Granda’s beautiful face like she used to, and sometimes, she was afraid she was forgetting her Da’s smell and what her Ma’s voice sounded like in real life. She’d missed them so much, it hurt (a lot, often).

She just couldn’t wait any longer to get back to that crazy bunch, and those last, endless few hours? Torture so it was.

She was half considering starting to work on her next article to pass the time when across from her, Erin spotted a young couple bickering, their luggages next to their seats. She was a beautiful thing, red hair tied in a messy bun, and his brown curls fell above his forehead, all messed up.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could make out their accents. He looked like he was trying to make her smile, leaning over so he could kiss her, and she was doing everything she could not to laugh, weakly trying to escape his arms around hers, her pretense wavering with every second.

They were probably in their early twenties, just out of uni or something. They looked happy.

Her chest tightened, and suddenly, Erin felt the urge to cry.

Well, that was quick.

Shite. Shite shite shite.

It was okay, though - it was all fine. She knew herself by now - she was emotional as heck most days of the year (crazy, her Ma would say), but the day of her returning back home, with accumulated fatigue and an Atlantic crossing flight in her feet? Of course she'd get misty eyed at the first occasion. At anything, this just happened to be what, because they were very cute and - it was a coincidence, nothing more.

It was nothing.

The girl laughed, though, giving him a small slap over the head before she let him nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. She brushed his forehead with her lips, a soft smile on them, and kept talking.

It was difficult, then, not to think about another time, another long wait, at the Bali airport this time. It was difficult, not to think about another English fella with wild, brown curls.

It was impossible, really, not to think about him.

Memories of a perfect trip came flooding back, of burnt skin and drunken smiles, of blue waters and green eyes. The tickles of the sun, the softness of his fingers over her exposed neck, her naked arms. Sweaty bodies pressed together during hot nights, slow breathes, so many new sights discovered, fingers intertwined.

Sometimes, the memory of his face hidden against her neck was so vivid, she could almost feel it. Just like she did now.

Her breath caught.

Sweet suffering Jesus.

Experience had taught her that she had to stop now - needed to, really, before her mind wandered to anything more. To everything else, every little thing that could, and would, make her heart ache even more than it already did.

(That’s another thing she’d found out: as it happened, the expression “heartbreak” wasn’t, in fact, an overly dramatic turn of words. Quite accurately descriptive it was, actually.

She often wondered when hers would stop feeling like it had been ripped into a million little pieces, but she was starting to lose faith that it ever would.)

Of course, she should have seen it coming, she knew that. She had, in fact. True to herself, she’d tried to ignore it, but she knew full well that with her coming back home, it would come back.

This painful, sneaky way every little thing seemed to remind her of before - of a life that felt so far away now.

Over the months, the many months since she’d been gone, she’d gotten it almost under control. Everyday life brought its distractions, particularly in a city like New-York: running between brunches and dinners, partying with her cool American friends, writing for a newspaper in the Big Apple, it was easy, forgetting what you wanted to, if only for so long. She was becoming a real life city girl, a full time one, and that was exactly what her busy brain - her treacherous heart - needed.

With time, every sight, every sound, every smell no longer reminded her of home - the place, the person. With time, she’d moved on.

Yes, sometimes - often - she’d wavered, but that was normal: having been close to someone meant that they lived with you forever, she couldn’t help that. At some point, it would just die down enough that she’d just be able to call it the past without her insides hurting.

(She thought it would, with Matt. Maybe not with the others before him, they were just passing through - but with him, she thought it would. She couldn’t really explain how it all made the permanent weight on her chest even heavier instead, somehow.)

But it hadn’t died down yet, and even though it was normal and okay and to be expected, six weeks ago, Erin had booked her tickets, and six weeks ago, she had lost the grip over the carefully built barriers she’d made sure to rise in the meantime for - well, self-preservation, really.

It started small. The song that had played this one special night, resonating through Starbucks as she waited for her drink. That sweatshirt her colleague bought one day that reminded her of another one. That scarf in the store that looked so much like Doctor Who’s.

But then...Then, it was every day, every damn day, just like the beginning - even worse, if she was being honest. Up until yesterday, when she boarded that damn plane.

Up until now, in this stupid airport where she didn’t want to cry.

Arms tightened around her own chest, Erin willed herself not to, even though it was becoming evident that there was no ignoring the memories and the aching now. Even though, just like she feared, it was becoming perfectly clear that there was no escaping anymore, no pretending that she wasn’t the worst person in this Goddamn country, that the worst hadn’t happened.

Even though she could feel the fear mixed with longing and excitement and dread and a million other emotions that had painfully, permanently taken residence in her stomach now that she was home.

(That had taken roots there ever since the day she left, so it did.)

Shite.

Sitting back up, Erin shook herself. No, no, no, no - she could do this.

She’d grown, she’d prepared herself. She’d even planned what to say if...She was ready. Responsable, mature, and ready. And she won’t have to face this alone.

In a few hours, she was going to see the people who raised her. In a couple of days, wee Orla was getting married. She’d come up with excuses after excuses not to come home, even for Christmas - babbling something about being overloaded with work even though it made her heart ache to know she’ll be alone for the holidays for the first time in her life. Even though she knew full well her Ma didn’t buy a single word, very aware of the real reason she was staying away. She didn’t say a single word, though, and Erin was grateful.

No more, though.

For months and months, Erin had found reasons to stay away for the exact reasons that were chipping away at her heart more and more by the second, but now her baby cousin was getting married, and she’d see her family, and they’ll hold her close, and she’ll find a way to bury all the stuff that was so, so much more difficult to ignore now that she was coming home.

Maybe - maybe it will be difficult, but they’ll be here to help her through it. She’ll be there for her family, and they’ll be here for her.

Fighting the urge to reach out for the folded photograph in her wallet (the one that brought so much comfort and so much else she’d rather avoid at the same time, the one she clinged to but pretended she didn’t), Erin just breathed, and moved to change seats.

Everything would be fine, in the end. It will be grand.

*

Except her family didn’t come.

No one did.

It was eight thirty in the morning, and, her cellphone penibly stuck between her ear and shoulder as she struggled to zip her jacket to protect herself from the freezing cold, Erin tried to swallow her disappointment.

“Aye I’m sorry love, it looks like you’re going to have to get a cab,” her Ma announced before yelling something at her Granda in the distance.

Erin couldn’t help but notice the fact that she didn’t seem that sorry, not at all in fact. “Your Da was going to come get you, but there’s a problem of some kind where the reception is, and he had to take Orla.”

Erin nodded, even though her Ma couldn’t see her. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just - ”

“We’ll give you the money back for the cab when you arrive. Alright, I gotta go love, we’re checking the hair accessories for the big day - see you in a bit.” And with that, she hung up.

Well.

Here went her big welcome home, eh.

Again, it was nothing, though, she reasoned. She was a grown up now, of course she understood that something had come up, and that this all delayed their big reunion from only an hour, tops. So really, there was no reason to get upset.

None.

She wished she wasn’t getting upset.

From what she told her, Clare would be putting together gift bags now, and there was absolutely no doubt that Michelle was still snoring. Pocketing her cell as best as she could, Erin bit the inside of her cheek and started looking for the only plan B she had left, ignoring the burning in her eyes. It really was nothing - she’ll be fine.

It didn’t matter that she took forever to get a cab, for some reason, or that her luggage fell over her foot when they tried to put it in the truck, or that her handbag crashed on the floor and spilled everywhere.

Erin did know she tended to be over dramatic - and yes, maybe borderline crazy, Ma wasn't completely wrong - but she was more mature now, so instead of getting riled up, instead of being crushed by the fact that her family didn’t seem to have missed her as much as she did them, and that the land she grew up on was sending her sign after sign that she wasn’t welcomed back, Erin breathed.

Instead of being violently overwhelmed by memories at every corner of the place she’d grown up in, the place where they met and it all began, she did - she tried to breathe, slowly, carefully, squeezing her scarf in her hand a little too tight.

(That was another thing about your close ones not coming to get you at the airport after you left your country to run away: there wasn’t much to distract you from the memories you were running away from.)

She wouldn’t cry. She was just tired, and being stupid, and she wasn’t coming home with puffy red eyes - no way.

They passed the mall they all used to hang out at, and her throat tightened so much, it felt like the air had left the inside of the car. She saw the movie theater he was always so eager to bring her to in the distance, and a familiar pang of missing shot through her chest. Her heart twisted that particular way when they drove by the hiding spot of their early days, but even though she wondered how she was still holding her tears, she did.

After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up her street, and Erin hadn’t shed one silly tear. She’d done it. She could do it.

By the time she pushed their small barrier and started for the couple of stairs, all Erin wanted was to collapse into bed and black out. Orla and Da wouldn’t be home, Ana would probably still be asleep, and given the day and time, Grandda would have gone for his walk. She’d give a big hug to Ma and Aunt Sarah, pretext a headache, and go lie down.

As she struggled to get her bags through the door while keeping the damn thing open, Erin shouted, cursing herself at how strangled her voice sounded. “I’m home!”

Finally managing to get everything and herself inside, she collapsed on the wall behind her, only now taking in the wallpaper, the coat hangers, the shoes by the entry.

Damn - she was home.

The emotion was so striking, she didn’t quite have the time to stop the tears from welling up in her yes, taken by surprise.

She moved before it all became too much and shrugged off her coat, feeling her insides warm at the familiar surroundings, and yet her heart ache at not having the usual voices that went with it, the faces that she wanted so much to see. She shouted again, but there was still no response.

Ma and aunt Sarah must have had something to do, then. It was fine, she thought as she pushed the living door open. It was, she’d just grab a glass of water and -

“SURPRISE!”

And just like that, Saturday Night started playing from somewhere, overcoming the shouting and the party whistles that had broken the silence so suddenly, Erin had jumped out, her back hitting doorframe behind her. There was colours and and noise and arms waving in every direction, and Erin vaguely realized that she was covered in confetti that matched the balloons and the hats.

Somehow, she noticed that they all had one: Michelle, up on the sofa, Clare, jumping in place at the other side of the room, Orla and the giant teddy bear she was holding. Anna, her pink one stuck on top of her mass of blond hair. Aunt Sarah and Grandda, both holding hands and arboring the same green one. Her Ma, her Da, tears in their eyes, huge grins on their faces, red and yellow ones falling over.

Her brain had stopped functionning, so she couldn't be sure, but Erin thought that her legs were giving out.

Before they did, though, both her parents closed the distance and hugged her close, whispering things she couldn't quite make sense of just yet. Their voices in her ear, their smell surrounding her, Erin broke her promise to herself, and finally let the tears come flooding as she held them back as close as she could.

She was home.

[twistedtranslations]

Jamil Viper - M-My heart...

You can unlock this story by getting Jamil’s SSR Dorm Uniform

Translation under the cut

Scarabia Dorm - Lounge

Jamil: …Once again, you made a promise without thinking about the consequences.

Kalim: But the principal said he didn't know where to go on a holiday right? Our home country is the best, don't you think? We the Scarabia dorm are representatives and we should show him the charms of the Country of Hot Sands! I'll leave the decorations of the lounge and the cooking to you Jamil. I will make the preparations for the parade!

Scarabia Dorm - Hallway

Jamil: …And for him to tell me that the day before. And he especially invited the principal. If the banquet is half-baked, it will have an influence on our evaluation. For Kalim's, the banquet…and my sake, I'll have to make this banquet a success. Okay. For the decorations. However it wouldn't fit if the decorations were just pretty, they also have to represent the culture of our country. ..All the ideas I have will take a long time. Hm… To have both beauty and culture…beauty and culture…beauty… Ah! I know!! I guess I should hear out "that" person.

Pomefiore Dorm - Lounge

Vil: …So you came to ask me for advice for the design of the party.

Jamil: Yes. A beautiful interior, a beautiful table set and beautiful entertainment… When I thought about "Beauty", your face suddenly appeared in my mind.

Vil: Ah. Is that so.

Jamil: Kalim has prepared traditional fabric from our country to use for decoration. They're the ones I'm carrying now. They're deep red, patterned with large peacocks. I thought that someone with an aesthetic sense as yours would be able to teach me how to use this cloth the best…

Vil: I understand what you want to say. …But surely you don't intend to consult my knowledge free of charge?

Jamil: Haha, I knew he would say that! My preparations are flawless.

Jamil: You don't think that I presumed the charismatic beauty, Vil Schoenheit would cooperate free of charge! I'm not that impolite. In the case you do give me advice, I offer you one roll of this fabric. The textiles made in the Country of Hot Sands are very valuable after all. Moreover, the goods woven by the purveyors of the Asim household aren't even available in the stores…

Vil: I could estimate the value of this cloth by a glance so you don't have to explain. I was searching for a fabric for my new suit, so I shall accept your request.

Jamil: Really? I am so glad!

Vil: Show me the textile.

Vil: …I see. The weaving was done carefully, but the large pattern has a strong impact. Framing it like it is or using it as a rug will certainly give of the "traditional crafts" feeling. If I fiddle with this a bit…

Jamil: I see~ I will study this~

Jamil: And now I just leave everything to Vil. I should just sit back and nod when appropriate…

Vil: Can someone bring me scissors!

Pomefiore Student: Here!

Jamil: Are those sewing scissors? …Wait please, what do you intend to do with those scissors. You're not going to…

Vil: I've already decided. I'm cutting this.

/Snip

Jamil: Aaah!! You cut this super expensive cloth in two!!!!

Vil: I'll cut it more so I can make a long and narrow flag.

/Snip

Jamil: Y-You cut it again! You know one roll of this can feed a 4-person family for one month right!! How wasteful… Hm? No…T-this is…? By cutting in this traditional pattern, you made an innovative design!!

Vil: Yes. If you come out of your comfort zone you will avoid being unfashionable. However, a certain someone who came to me just couldn't stop giving me harmless but pointless compliments…

Jamil: Shit.

Vil: Whatever you do, you should never forget to be bold. Aim to be sensational. There's nothing that I produce that can be considered "inocuous"! Now, I shall have you be brought another scissor and you shall cut this cloth according to my instructions!

Jamil: Y-Yes!

Main Street

Jamil: Sigh. I'm tired… Being unrelenting is a good thing but the way he handles people is way too rough. There were a lot of scraps, so cleaning up took forever. …Oh well, for now the matter of decorations is settled. Next I have to prepare the food for the banquet. It's past 3 pm right now so I should… Wait it's past 3pm!? That's less than 3 hours 'til the banquet!! Because Vil was prattling on, I forgot to keep an eye on the time. I won't make it in time for the banquet! Whatever I do, I won't be able to prepare the food in time. Cooking….Cooking…Aha. This time I shall just ask "that" person!

Chapter 2

Kitchen

Jamil: Kalim suddenly planned to throw a banquet for the principal to introduce him to the Country of Hot Sands… If I want to make this party a success, I'll have to cook something from our hometown… If I was on my own, I wouldn't be able to make it. So I had to call in someone to help me. And if it's about cooking, this person will certainly…

Jamil: Trey. Please take care of me.

Trey: I'll do my very best. Since… in return you would prune all the rose bushes at Heartslabyul, wouldn't you?

Jamil: …Yes. If I can safely make it through the banquet, that is. In terms of labor, I lose. Keep the cool face and look at your feet…

Trey: So, did you decide on a menu?

Jamil: Yes. I intended to set up some bases of the traditional food of the Country of Hot Sands. The main dish will be a goat roast. Usually, you have to let it marinate in spices for three days but… I already seasoned one and put it in the freezer. Today we will use that.

Trey: You're so careful to the point that it looks like you knew about the party beforehand.

Jamil: Kalim loves inviting people over so I prepare stuff every day. I'll put the meat in the oven and have it slowly roast on a low fire. Meanwhile, we can start with the other meals. Seafood sauté, green salad, thin baked bread and dessert… Anyway I'm short of hands. First of all, please peel the potatoes!

/Cooking sounds

Jamil: Okay, now all of the cooking is done.

Trey: All of them smell fantastic… Especially the well-cooked meat looks delicious! …However… by appearance you could say it looks kind of miserable.

Jamil: Huh, do you think so?

Trey: Yeah. There's only light brown on the plate, it's kind of unsatisfactory. I picked roses to put in the jam. If I scatter the petals like this… Look. If I add some red to it, doesn't it look more brilliant?

Jamil: You're right! It gives of a luxurious impression. Sometimes my younger sister tells me that my cooking looks plain by appearance. Back in the days we quarreled about it but… to think it was about the color.

Trey: Haha. There are plenty of people who think that Heartslabyul's sweets are gaudy, so I understand you. The most important thing in cooking is flavor after all. That's why I want to tell you that "Appearance doesn't matter!" but… you went through great troubles to make it delicious. It should be enjoyable from the start to the finish.

Jamil: I'll do my best remembering that. The next time I'll go home, my sister will be in for a surprise.

Trey: Let's decorate the other meals as well. I also have edible flowers that I use for cakes.

Main Street

Jamil: Thank you very much, Trey! …Okay. I managed finish up cooking perfectly. …I wonder how Kalim's preparations for the parade are coming along.

Kalim: It seems the animals have arrived. Let's pick them up at the front gate!

Jamil: Hm? When you speak about the devil you see his tail. I'll watch secretly…

Scarabia Student C: Did you really get lions and elephants? What if they broke loose in the school…

Kalim: Hahaha, it'll be fine! You guys. What do you think is the most important thing  when you communicate with animals?

Jamil: Heh, that's super easy. The answer is "Animal language". With that you can tell the animals which route to take for the parade…

Kalim: The most important thing when you communicate with animals is… PETTING!!!!

Jamil: !!??

Kalim: Everyone is a living being after all, so if you rely on them it will turn out alright. If you want to take a small break, open the cage and deepen your bonds with the animals!

Jamil: …Is he releasing the lions and the elephants without any preparation…? Why…Why are you so incautious when it comes to animals…! Ever since you were little, you tottered over to the likes of tigers and panthers to give them pet food… It's worrisome. No matter how I look at it, it's worrisome. I can't trust Kalim with anything. I shall talk to the animals…!

Scarabia Dorm - Lounge

Kalim: Principal. Please experience the hospitality of the Country of Hot Sand with all your might today. Then let's start this fun banquet!

Jamil: Somehow… we managed to finish up the decorations, cooking and parade on time… I ran more today than I do in a basketball game. I'm completely exhausted…

Kalim: Hey Jamil. Don't you look a little bit tired?

Jamil: THAT MUST BE YOUR IMAGINATION!!!!!

Kalim: Really? Okay.

Crowley: The decorations are wonderful, and the food is absolutely delicious.

Grim: Chomp, chomp. It's so good!

Yuu: Come on, manners! Chomp Chomp.

Kalim: It seems that the principal and the guests are enjoying themselves. Thank you for preparing the decorations and the food. Jamil.

Jamil: …  Don't mention it. But it's too early for you to let your guard down. As the organizer of the event, don't you still have to appear in the finale? Hurry up and get ready.

Kalim: Okay, gotcha!

Jamil: Good grief…

Grim: Jamil!

Jamil: Hm?

Grim: Your cooking, all of it is amazing!!

Jamil: …Yuu, what do you think? Do you like the cooking of the Country of Hot Sands.

Yuu: It's yummy. I want to eat it every day.

Jamil: Heh. I'm glad.

Jamil: Ah, it seems that the parade is starting. Principal, please go out to the balcony and enjoy the welcome parade of the Country of Hot Sands.

Scarabia Student C: U-Uhm! Vice dorm leader Viper!!

Jamil: Hm? Why are you in such a hurry.

Scarabia Student C: That's because… whisper…whisper…

Jamil: … What!?

Crowley: Hm? Is there something, Viper?

Jamil: N-No! There's nothing. I'll just have to leave my seat for a while… please continue enjoying Scarabia's banquet!

Chapter 3

Scarabia Dorm - Hallway

Jamil: KALIM DISAPPEARED!? The animal parade is a tradition of the Country of Hot Sands. The most valuable seven-colored parrot have to fly… And the organizer is supposed to give a grand welcome!

Scarabia Student C: We searched everywhere but we couldn't find him… We can't do the finale of the parade like this.

Scarabia Student D: Wait! Instead of the dorm leader, we should have the vice dorm leader do the greeting.

Jamil: I can't. It would dishonor the organizer…Kalim.

Scarabia Student C: But we can't find him…!

Scarabia Student D: And the parade is still going on… what do we do!

Jamil: …Calm down everyone. Panicking won't help. You guys are the farsighted and deeply designed students of Scarabia, aren't you? When an unexpected situation comes up you should be calm.

Scarabia Student D: …It is as Viper says.

Scarabia Student C: Sorry for getting upset.

Scarabia Student B: Uhm… dorm leader Kalim wanted to me to bring you a message…!

Jamil: …I see. Because of your error, the seven-colored parrot fled. And Kalim went to search for a substitute.

Scarabia Student A: Yes… The dorm leader said that it was fine to start with the parade… Sorry. It's all our fault.

Jamil: Let's leave the investigation of your guilt for later. Let's first think about the problem we have in front of us. According to your story, Kalim has gone to Diasomnia… Even if he flyed on the magical carpet he would take 10 minutes. We have 5 minutes left until the finale of the parade. No matter what we do he won't make it in time. …We have to stretch time until Kalim gets back.

Scarabia Dorm - Lounge

Crowley: Tigers and elephants, lions, monkeys and peacocks… there are plenty of other animals marching lively. I'm so moved that I'm able to watch such a wonderful parade from the dorm's balcony!

Grim: Yes! The parade is going 'til the fountain. The music is getting louder as well…

Yuu: It's time for the finale! Let's get excited together!

Crowley: What kind of surprising show will I be able to witness at last!? …

Grim: …

Yuu: The animals seem to be circling in the same spot?

Crowley: How strange, I wonder if something happened. Can it be… that they ran into some trouble?

Scarabia Student C: The principal is muttering… Is the dorm leader Kalim still not here!?

Scarabia Student D: At this rate, our party we worked hard on will fail…!

???: The Asim household does not fail.

Jamil: …As long as I'm here! I'm on top of the roof… the shadow of the tower is just right. I'll rely on my wind magic to make it flashy!

Crowley: Oho? Something is falling down. The red blizzard making the white Scarabia glow is truly beautiful…

Grim: The way it flutters and sticks to my noise is annoying!

Crowley: Grim, you don't understand. Isn't this a chic show. If it's this, I could watch it forever.

Jamil: The scraps of cloth that Vil cut off and the petals I got from Trey… Who'd have thought they'd play this role. Even I couldn't predict that. Anyway, I managed to stretch the time of the show. Now there's only…

???: Heey!

Jamil: The thing flying over there is…the magic carpet! He has arrived!!

Kalim: Principal! And Yuu and Grim as well, thank you for coming to Scarabia today! I've never been this happy that I could entertain my dearest guests!

Jamil: Sigh… And with this the parade is over without a hitch. I should go back to the lounge. My broom, where is it… And how long is Kalim planning to ride that carpet? I'm getting anxious watching him stand and move around on that carpet…

Kalim: A, Ah I'm losing my balance…aah! I'm falling!!!

Jamil: !!!?? WATCH OUT!!!!!

/Splash

Kalim: …Man I was really surprised. I was careless and fell in the fountain. …Hm? But I'm not hurting anywhere…? …Ah, Jamil! You made me float with wind magic. Thank you. Thanks to you I wasn't hurt.

Jamil: M-My heart…I thought it was about to stop…tch.

Kalim: But I'm completely soaked… How cruel. Hahaha!!

Jamil: You feel like laughing huh. I felt like I was about to pass to the other side! Stop trying to imitate people rashly!!!!!

Kalim: Yeah. …Sorry for making you worry. …Anyways, did you see the finale? I did my best!

Jamil: …Yes, I saw it. Well done. Me.

Crowley: Well, the decorations, the food and the parade made for a wonderful banquet!! It must've been awfully troublesome to plan all of that, no?

Kalim: Nah, absolutely not. Right, Jamil?

Jamil: Yes.

Yuu: Good job! Good job…

Jamil: Today was a harsh day. If I had to plan another party like this…

Kalim: Principal! Disregarding your holidays, you should come again…

Jamil: Kalim!

Kalim: Hmpf.

Jamil: If the principal tells you something again, just say that you'll consider it. No matter what, first consult everything with me. Understood?

Kalim: …Hah. I thought something was up when you suddenly shut my mouth. Okay. I don't really get it, but I get it!

Jamil: You're really such a reliable dorm leader…

[carnationcreation]

Hi! Can I please get an imagine where the reader is Bombay’s daughter and he’s never been around because of his job and that he left the readers mum years ago. But he comes back to coach her team, not knowing she plays and they argue, he pleads to get to know her etc.☺️😄basically the absentee!father x reader who wishes for a father but doesn’t know how to forgive him

TITLE: Forgiveness [Can you imagine?] (Bombay x daughter!reader)

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Prompt/summary:  Bombay tries to reconnect with the daughter he walked out on 8 years ago. 

Word Count: 2,519

Authors note: You said argue? Alright here’s some angst. It feels so good to be writing for The Mighty Ducks again, this is one of my favorite movies so I’m so happy I got a request for it!

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

Every summer I used to get the same letter from my dad. It actually wasn’t even a letter. It was child support.

Every fall we used to stop by the diner in town to get milkshakes to celebrate the anniversary of him leaving us. It wasn’t that he was a terrible dad, she just knew she could do better for the both of us if he wasn’t around. After 8 years she still got the same order every time we went to the diner, and every year Mrs. Conway was still there taking our order.

Her son Charlie was always there too. Both of us played on the same hockey team and every winter we would drag our gear down to the pond to practice with our team.

That entire routine changed after one day.

“Goldburg you’re the goalie, the puck is supposed to hit you,” Charlie sighed as he skated towards us.

“Does that sound stupid to anyone else?” the goalie groaned.

I rolled my eyes at him before lining up another shot. 

After a few more shots Charlie tapped my shoulder, he looked in wonder as a car drove out onto the ice. We all wandered over and a man in a finely pressed suit stepped out. 

“Wait, that can’t be him-” I mumbled.

“We ain’t buying nothing man, I’m feeling generous today so I’ll let your sorry vanilla bootie outta here before we use your eyeballs as hockey pucks!” Jesse said.

“Thanks bro,” the man rolled his eyes before going to reach in to his jacket, “but I’m not going home ‘til I take care of business.”

The group slowly backed up. When the man pulled out a piece of paper and not a gun we all sighed in relief.

“District five pee-wee hockey team, I’m Gordon Bombay. Your new coach.”

The team laughed as I locked eyes with Charlie. He saw the absolute panic in my eyes. 

“Got the roster right here. Averman, Dave. Bombay, (Y/n). Conway, Charlie. ”

His face scrunched up as he got to mine. Confusion or being uncomfortable. Either way I couldn’t tell. Luckily no one seemed to notice the fact that I had the same last name as the coach.

“Here’s the long and the short of it. I hate hockey and I don’t like kids. I’m sure this will be a real bonding experience.  Maybe one day, one of you will even write a book about it in jail.”

Charlie nudged my shoulder, looking at me with a questioning look. I sighed, “He used to love hockey, but he really seems to hate kids. My mom said she heard that he got a DWI last week.”

Bombay ordered us to scrimmage. We all dove for the puck. Players tripped and fell over each other as we desperately tried to play. I finally got the puck and started to make a move towards the goal when Jesse (accidentally or not) hooked my ankle with his stick as he fell. Connie skated over quickly to help me up before taking off over to Bombay.

I rubbed my sore elbows as Charlie and I skated back over to the car that was still parked on the ice. Bombay brushed the team off by saying we need to scrimmage more and got back into the car.

“What a jerk,” Peter said. 

Eventually the team came to the amazing conclusion we should hijack the car. On Peters mark, we all jumped on the car, shook it, and climbed inside.

“We want a ride! We want a ride!” Connie began to chant as we all joined in.

“Take em for a spin, anything!” Bombay said, we all cheered as they started driving.

The fun didn’t last for long. Charlie’s mom soon appeared on the ice and made us all get out.

She furiously shouted, “Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking putting that car on the ice? My son was in that car!”

“Lady lady relax,” Bombay said, “The ice is not gonna crack.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she said. Charlie and I slowly got out of the car and skated to the side to take off our skates.

Bombay sighed, “Gordon Bombay, the new hockey coach.”

Oh lord he was in for it now.

“Oh you’re the dead beat that married (Y/m/n). They send you down here to coach the team and you endanger their lives. You endangered your daughter's life!”

I hid my face with my hand as Bombay looked back at me. Oh god he knows now. 

Charlie’s mom eventually pulled us away and drove us home. I knew I’d be hearing about this from my mom later.

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

By order of the state of Minnesota Bombay was at the game the next day. I’d made it my mission to avoid my “dad”. Charlie did a good job of keeping him away, asking him questions or distracting him. I knew I’d have to talk to him eventually but until then I was content with pretending I wasn’t his daughter. 

The game was a joke. We didn’t score any goals. Didn’t get a chance to defend ourselves as the Hawks beat us into the ground. 9-0. I left the game with bruises on my face and arms. My helmet was barely covering my face and my hockey pads were my dad’s old ones from the 80’s. One of the few things I stole from his house when we left. Charlie was extremely frustrated at the missed shot he had towards the end of the second period.

As the team sat arguing I was putting my gear up. 

“I thought we came here to play hockey. Do you guys think losing is funny?” Bombay yelled.

“It’s not like you coach us or anything. At least we tried,” Jesse said.

Bombay’s face went red with rage, “That was the sloppiest playing I’ve ever seen. Why the hell won’t you just listen to me?!”

I stood up, shouldering my bag, “Why the hell should we?”

The team followed me out of the box. 

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

The next game was a disaster. Bombay encouraged us to lie, cheat, and foul our way through the game. Bombay was furious when Charlie wouldn’t do his little act when he was cornered. The bruises on my face still hadn’t healed properly. 

The locker room was filled with groans as everyone agreed the game was pathetic.

“Charlie! When I tell you to do something, you do it! Got it?”

“You can’t make me cheat,” Charlie said walking out of the locker room.

Jessie and Terry’s dad stormed into the locker room, “LEt’s go boys. This is what I gave up my overtime pay for? To watch my kids take falls? You’re a pathetic excuse for a coach, and an even more pathetic father if you can let your daughter get beaten up like that.”

The team’s heads turned to me as he pointed in my direction. I let my head fall as I stormed out behind Jessie and Terry. 

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

I really thought I could keep avoiding him. I didn’t think he would come and try to find me. 

The next day at practice was a shock for everyone. We all got new uniforms, gear, and sticks. Everyone was pumped up during practice and we even got two new players.

“What changed?” I asked Charlie.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. He came and apologized last night.”

My blood boiled. He can apologize to another kid but not his own daughter who he practically abandoned. I warmed up to him as practice went on but in the back of my mind there was still that thought lingering. 

“(Y/n), you’re riding home with me,” Bombay told me as I packed up my stuff.

I looked at him confused, “But-”

“Your mom said it was okay.”

I silently followed him out to the car, the driver had rolled up the middle window so we could have some privacy.

“So…” he said, I stayed quiet still looking out the window, “Your mom told me you never quit hockey. Even after I…”

“Left?”

He sighed, “Yeah I guess it was like that wasn’t it?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Look (Y/n), if I had known how much it had affected you I never would’ve stepped out that door. Your mom and I… we just weren’t good together.”

I scoffed, “No, your drinking side just didn’t line up with the fact mom wanted a decent husband.”

He went to speak again but quickly closed his mouth.

“I’ll just imagine me forgiving you. Maybe one day I can actually do it with meaning,” I sighed and went to pick my bag up as the driver pulled up to the curb. 

“(Y/n),” he said grabbing my arm, “I already talked to Charlie about this. I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I never should have asked you guys to cheat. And I definitely shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you guys. I’d do anything to try and get you to forgive me.”

“I’m just confused as to why your star player got an apology before your daughter did. I’ve been waiting for that for 8 years. If you truly wanted that from me you should’ve tried a long time ago.”

I slammed the car door as I got out. 

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

The next few days I spent at Charlie’s house when my mom wasn’t home, hoping Bombay wouldn’t come track me down again. 

“(Y/n)?” Charlie said, “Someone left a package for you.”

I looked up from the comic books that were sprawled across Charlie’s bed in confusion as he sat the brown paper package down. My name was written across it in black sharpie.

Charlie shook his head, “Well, are you gonna open it?”

“I think I already know who it’s from.”

“(Y/n), he really wants to make it up to you. Just open it.”

I sighed and slowly ripped the paper, inside was a jersey. My favorite hockey team’s jersey.

“Woah,” I said.

Charlie scoffed, “Your dad sent you that? How’d he know your favorite team?”

“Cause it’s his favorite too. Charlie this is his vintage jersey.”

“Well,” he said, “Maybe you can start imagining that forgiveness part.”

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

“The Ducks? We’re the ducks? What brain dead jerk came up with that name,” Peter scoffed. 

“As a matter of fact,” Bombay said pulling a jersey out of the box, “I did. But I didn’t have a choice, we’re being sponsored. You’d rather be district 5? Some stupid number?”

“They don’t even have teeth,” Peter said.

“Neither do hockey players,” he said, we all giggled, “Have you ever seen a flock of ducks flying in perfect formation? It’s beautiful. Pretty awesome how they all stick together. The other animals are afraid, cause they know if they mess with one duck then they’ll get the whole flock.”

Bombay walked around the locker room giving his little speech. He smiled when he got to me, his eyes flicking down to see I was wearing the old jersey he had left for me. 

He whipped off his coat to reveal his Ducks jersey underneath as we all laughed, “I’m proud to be a duck, and I’d be proud to fly with any one of you.”

Charlie and I smiled at each other.

“So how about it? Who’s a duck?”

Silence followed as everyone looked around the room to see who would go first.

“I’ll be a duck,” our new player Fulton Reed said.

I smiled and placed my hockey stick on the bench, “I’ll join the flock.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said following suit, “me too.”

Soon enough the whole team joined in. Grabbing jerseys and cheering.

“We are the ducks!” Bombay shouted, “The Mighty Ducks!”

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

The next few games were amazing. Our winning streak started to pick up and soon enough we were getting ready to face off against Cardinals. 

Charlie and I were named the dynamic duo. Our ability to make plays and take shots off of each other improved everyday. But that put a target on our back. 

It was the third quarter, we had to make one shot to pull us out of a tie and win. The crowd was going crazy as Charlie and I sped up the ice. Our team following behind us for backup. 

It was a stupid idea. 

Charlie went to take a shot as I saw a goon defender moving in for the body check. So I threw myself in between Charlie and the goon. My head snapped back against the glass as I heard the buzzer go off signaling a goal.

The team cheered. Charlie frantically raced over to me.

“(Y/n)?”

I could barely hear him, the ringing in my ears was so loud, “Where’s my dad?”

Charlie looked confused before shouting over to Bombay.

“(Y/n)? Can you hear me?” he said.

“Dad?” I started to cry as the pain caught up to me.

“Get her helmet off Charlie,” he said, I felt Charlie gently take it off and the coolness of the ice against the back of my head, “(Y/n) the paramedics are gonna get you off the ice okay?”

I felt myself being picked up off the ice and lifted onto a stretcher, the crowd clapped as I was rolled off the ice.

The ride to the hospital was short, Charlie’s mom called my mom's work to tell her what happened and she rushed over as Casey rode to the hospital with me.

“Where’s my dad?”

“He had to finish up the game, he’s gonna meet us there afterwards.”

Everything happened really fast when we got there, I wasn’t allowed to sleep even though I was super tired. 

“Look who’s here” Casey said. I turned to see Bombay and Charlie walking in.

“Woah,” I yelped as Charlie ran over to give me a hug.

“Are you crazy? You won’t be able to play at the next game!” 

I laughed, “At least we get a next game. It was worth it.”

He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair. Bombay sat down in the chair beside the hospital bed. Casey and Charlie walked outside.

“Do you remember what happened after you took that hit?”

I paused trying to think back to earlier, “Um… not really.”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in front of the team. You called me dad.”

I turned my head to look down at the sheets, “Oh…”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” he laughed, “But the team is definitely going to have questions for you tomorrow.”

I smiled. 

“Alright, grab your stuff. The doctor said you can go, you just can’t practice or play in a game for a week.”

My eyes widened, “A week?!”

“Yes,” he said, “And I better not hear any complaints. I’ll make you run extra. Your moms waiting on us.”

“Where?”

“At the diner, she said something about milkshakes.”

I smiled, “We always get milkshakes after games.”

“Well, it’s on me tonight.”

I jumped up and gave him a hug before running out to grab Charlie. I think I can imagine that forgiveness thing now.

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

Taglist: @thebookwormlife @talksoprettyjjx  @coolreallyfuzzystudentuniverse  @igotabadfeelingabouteverything @larrystylinson-sus @lovesanimals @aunicornmademedoit @thexhotmess @ssprayberrythings @registerednursejackie @julieandthephantomsblogduh @fangirling-allday @solophantomsmultis @drxgxnslxyer @schnapp-my-neck​

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 11

A/N An absolution 

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

The sun was setting over the hills as I drove Jonah and myself out of Los Angeles and towards the desert. It was already getting later in the day so we decided to take the route through Palm Springs to stay there for the night and then make the straight shot to our shared ski lodge in Utah early the next morning.

Our drive was reasonably quiet, Jonah had connected his phone and was playing music quiet through the Bluetooth speakers in the car but neither of us were really focussed on the songs. That was a first, honestly.

I was too busy in my own mind; two Advil deep and still sporting a persistent headache while trying to piece together the events of the day. It had been both the fastest and longest day of my life. Did everyone always have it out for Avalon or was I just disgustingly dense? The way my brother spoke about her made me sick and the way Zach left our conversation with that sly dig made my blood boil. Avalon and I may have argued a lot but she was still my wife and I was supposed to protect her.

Right?

I’d be a complete asshole if I didn’t follow through with the one thing I swore to do in front of a whole congregation of our family and friends ‘til death do us part.

Goddammit.

It was dark by the time we pulled up to the resort in Palm Springs and the desert mountains were smudged into the starry sky in hues of black and dark blues. The city seemed quiet as if nightlife was non-existent. Normally, Jonah and I would complain about that – always ones to thrive off good nightlife, especially on a vacation – but right now, the quiet was perfectly ideal.

The sign out front of the resort read Riviera in curling letters and was lit from two spotlights on the grass below if beckoning us towards it. The parking lot didn’t seem too crowded, so we figured it was a safe place to stay. I parked the car near the entrance and pulled out a bit of the cash from the glovebox before we stepped out into the humid air.

Palm Springs felt far stickier than Los Angeles despite only being a two-hour drive away and I tugged haphazardly at the front of my black t-shirt to try and cool myself down a little as we headed for the doors. The burst of air conditioning that tumbled out of the building when the sliding glass doors opened for us was such a relief, even if our walk from the car hadn’t been that far. The lady behind the desk welcomed us with a smile and chipper hello and Jonah and I shuffled over quietly.

“We’re looking for a room for tonight. Two double beds preferably.” I said, keeping my voice down.

Being quiet felt necessary, even in the near empty lobby at the mere hour of 7:30pm.

The young lady typed away into her computer, her calm smile making me feel only more on edge than I already was. What was there to smile about? I drummed my fingers impatiently on the front desk and glanced back through the large windows to the direction of my car.

Her voice brought me back around, “We have a room available for you! It will be $185 for one night. Two double beds. Is a view of the pool alright with you?”

“Yeah.” I answered quickly. Pool, mountain, who gave a fuck. Honestly, dear reader, I never knew how much people can annoy me until I didn’t want to be around them.

“What’s the name for the booking?” she asked, glancing between Jonah and me expectantly.

“Seavey.” I answered and she typed it into her computer.

I figured since I told Christian we were going on a road trip it would only make sense to use my honest name if anyone came after us. God, I hoped no one would come after us.

I paid in full in cash – much to her surprise but she didn’t argue – and she passed us each a swipe key to our room.

“248. Second floor right past the pool on the other side.”

“Is there a Tesla charging station around here?” I asked.

“You’ll see it across the lot. Closer to the middle entrance doors!”

The hotel was built in a circular shape with the pool in the open courtyard centre and the two storeys of rooms in a pinwheel around it. Our room was at the far end of the building from the lobby and I drove my car down to the Tesla charging stations by the centre entrance to plug it in while Jonah pulled our bags from the backseat.

“What are we going to do with…the case in the trunk?” he asked me softly.

The quiet desert night made for ease of eavesdropping. Who could one trust at a time like that?

“The ice should keep it.” I whispered.

We opened the trunk and Jonah stood close to me for privacy as I unclipped the case and opened the top. The southern California heat had melted most of the ice on the drive and Jonah and I sighed in unison.

“Can’t keep her out here in this humidity.” Jonah whispered.

“I know.” I closed the equipment case and locked the clips again, “Bring her in with us then. It’ll be safer anyway.”

Jonah and I each draped our own bags over our shoulders and then each took a side of the case to lift it out of the trunk and onto the pavement. It was much heavier with the bags of melted ice and we found ourselves staggering a little down the hotel hallway with the weight of it. Of course we had to be on the second floor meaning we had to wait for the elevator.

Have you ever waited for the slowest elevator in the country with a dead body in your suitcase in the wide open? Didn’t think so. It is probably the most torturous thing one could experience. Or…one of the most torturous things one could experience.

I wonder if Avalon suffered.

The room was, of course, the lightest colours possible; the walls painted a light blue and the furniture and sheets all a crisp white. Jonah and I set the equipment trunk on the light brown carpet between us once we stepped inside and we took a second to look around the perfectly clean room. Where was there a place to put a bloody body that wouldn’t raise suspicions from housekeeping the following day?

Jonah peeked into the washroom that was directly to our left and he flicked on the light. The white tile floor was lit by warm pot lights along the ceiling and framed with white walls and a wood toned accent wall behind the dual vanity. The stand-alone tub was against the far wall and sat empty and perfectly clean.

We exchanged silent glances before letting the hotel room door close behind us and we lifted the equipment case into the ensuite. With equal soft huffs, we set it down on the tile and I unclipped the lid to open it up. Each melted ice bag was drained down the tub and the plastic packaging was left on the tile while we situated ourselves on either side of the case. I slid my hands under Avalon’s arms and directed Jonah to take her ankles and we lifted her up together and carefully set her in the tub. She was getting stiff so we tried to keep her in the same position we needed to put her back in the case come morning.

Jonah stuffed the empty ice bags into the bottom of the equipment case with the stained towel from home and he pulled it out of the bathroom and into the corner of the main room to keep it out of the way. I sat on the side of the tub and silently eyed the body of my wife that was lain in front of me. She seemed paler than when we left home and I sat there, afraid to touch her like she was stranger again.

“I’m going to grab some ice from the machine down the hall, okay?” Jonah said.

I glanced over at him and simply nodded before turning back to Avalon.

“Are you alright here?” he questioned.

I nodded again.

He hesitated in the doorway but left the room anyway.  

I felt numb when I first found her and I felt numb staring at her now, only hours apart but at the same time it felt like months. My God; my heart hurt.

I got up from the side of the tub and went back into the main room to where my laptop case was left on one of the beds. My hoodie and jeans were still inside it and I pulled out my sweater to take back into the ensuite. I carefully slid Avalon’s arms in it and then tucked it over her head and down her torso before resting her back against the side of the porcelain tub. The light bloody handprint over the chest was easier to look at than the gash across her neck and the completely dark red colour of her clothes. She looked nicer in my clothes anyway.

I sat back on the side of the tub and let my eyes study her face again. She was staring at the wall with that eery blank expression and I carefully reached over to close her eyelids. She looked like she was sleeping. I liked to think that’s what she was doing anyway…seemed to feel a little easier that way.

I let out a soft breath and reached my hand down to brush my fingers over hers, feeling the coolness of her once warm skin. She was unfamiliar now but, at the same time, still nothing less than the supposed love of my life. I ran my thumb over her knuckles and across the diamond ring on her left hand.

The glass fell and shattered on the kitchen floor between us, silencing our screaming match except for our heavy breaths and Avalon’s sniffled tears.

I sighed at the realization that the whole confrontation went on too far and I tried to reach for her, but she pulled her hand back and moved away from me, “Aves.”

“Don’t.” she snapped.

“Avalon, I’m sorry, I-”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.” she retorted sharply, yet I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. “I’m sleeping in the studio tonight.”

I swallowed thickly and nodded, glancing to the ground with a heavy heart, the pieces of broken glass shimmering in the kitchen light between us. She went to step around me but I instinctively reached out a hand to her to keep her back from accidently stepping on any broken glass, “Careful.”

“God, Daniel.” she huffed, “Please don’t.”

I didn’t make a move to stop her as she walked around me to storm across the living room and to the back door. She didn’t look back as she opened the sliding glass door and slipped out into the darkness that the falling night brought. I watched her disappear out of the house and into the backyard, her form fading from view like she had been a figment of my imagination the whole time, the cruelest most perfect kind of dream.

Oh, how I loved her. And I was so, so stupid.

I swallowed back my tears of realization as the pieces of the night came clearer to me. How I let her leave to the studio so easily, our last words spat in hatred, and how I could never truly apologize for not being the husband she wanted and deserved. I was too much of a coward and she was too good for me.

My tears came suddenly, breaking my breath in my chest with a shutter and I clenched my jaw to try and keep myself somewhat composed as the grief washed over me in heavy unbearable waves. I clutched her hand in mine and brought it up to my lips to press a soft kiss to her cold skin through my tears.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered shakily to her, only hoping somehow she could hear me. Wherever she was. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15​ @the-girl-who-cried-wolf​

[tipsydipsydo]

『© tipsydipsydo』

All listed and linked work (that includes my writings, my fake texts and my moodboards) in here is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

Do not repost, plagiarize, translate or use any of my work in general!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Please respect that. I’ll fight any illegal use of my work!

Thank you.

「Information: Only the unique combination of pictures, the colour schemata and editing of the moodboards is my intellectual work! I don’t own the pictures themselves and all credits are going to the rightful owners!」

➸ Blog Navigation

A post where you'll find all my other themed Masterlists of my writings, my personal sideblog, my fic-recs blogs and so much more!

➸ My Networks

This is a list of all the networks where I got accepted as a writer in their community. Please check them out! 

➙ Information!

All the showed (anonymized) persons on my Moodboards should only symbolizes specific scenes, situations, outfits, jewelry or cosmetics! Nothing of this should make you feel excluded when you have a different skin color, hair color/structure, body shape or gender!

My scenarios and fics should be open for everyone to read, that’s why I try my best to write gender neutral and male scenarios/fanfics as well!

(Some scenarios or fics could still be personalized for specific groups of people or communities where I think they deserve some more attention and love! For example because there is a lack of writings for them etc.)

What I want to say:

We all are the same equal in our own unique existence!💓

I love all of you guys!🤗💓

» Gender «

↬ Female: ♔ [♔-Reader]

↬ Male: ♚  [♚-Reader]

↬ Gender neutral: ♕  [♕-Reader]

» Genre Key «

↬ Fluff: 🌸 

↬ Angst: 🌧 

↬ Hurt and Comfort: ☔

↬ Serious Themes: ⚠️🚫                                                                                

 (For example sexual assault, (mental) illnesses, traumatic experiences, rascism, antisemitism, islamophobia, homophobia, transphobia etc.) 

➙ We can’t take those things easy and I’ll not accept that someone “joke” about it!                                                                                                 

↬ Comedy/Crack: 🌞 

↬ Soft Smut [sweet vanilla~]: 💋 

↬ Hard Smut [kinky stuff~]: 😈 

   ┃ ➙ [💋😈]: kinky smut with feelings ;)             

[Information]

I made a list where I explain what kind of sexual content I’d write, how I interpret different kinks (especially how the Dom-/Sub-Dynamic in my fics work) and with what kind of Smut I’m not comfortable.

 ┃➙ My sexual content Rules!                      

» Other useful symbols «

↬ Scenarios: 💭

↬ “Connected to” (connected to an other scenario/fic/series): 🖇 

 ► Kink-Scenario 😈💋  [♔- Reader] 

[What kind of dirty secret(s) could the boys have?]

 ► Halloween Costume-Scenario  🌸💋😈 [♔- Reader]

[You’re wearing a scandalous Halloween Costume for a Halloweenparty...]

 ► Their favourite Make out-/Sex-Songs: Hyung Line Maknae Line  💋😈   [♔- Reader] 

[Which songs would bring the boys right into the mood?] 

 ► Honeymoon-Destinations: Hyung Line Maknae Line 🌸 [♔- Reader]

[What cities/countries would they choose for their honeymoon-trip?] 

 ► When the boys have a crush on you!

     ▸  Their feelings for you! 🌸  

        ▪ here [♕- Reader]

     ▸  Their dirty thoughts about you! 💋😈 

        ▪ About him  [♚- Reader]

        ▪ About her   [♔- Reader]

► Easter Special 🌸💋😈

[You’re wearing a sexy bunny outfit for them on Easter Sunday!]

    ▪  Easter with her! [♔- Reader]

    ▪  Easter with him!  [♚- Reader]

» Series Key «

↬ Finished: 💯

↬ Ongoing: 💬

↬ Long Term Project: 📅

↬ Paused: ⁉️

↬ Uncompleted: 🗑

(the last one will hopefully never happen...)

 ▲ ▼ ▲▼▲

► Naughty Days ‘til Christmas 💋😈 [♔|♚|♕-Reader]

This is a spicy Advent Calendar for Christmas: The Boys bought an Erotic Advent-Calendar and every day they unpack another sexy Accessory with the Reader. Of course they try all the products! 💬

(24 Smut-Drabbles with female/male/gender neutral Readers) 

► BTS Dog Hybrid-Series   🌸🌧💋😈  mostly [♔-Reader] BUT [♚/♕-Reader] possible!

Seven different stories about the boys in a world where humans and hybrids exists, an unique ethnicity of humans they’re able to shift their shape into a dog.    ⁉️| 📅

► BTS “We’re all the same equal!”- Series��🌸💋🌧⚠️🚫 [♔|♚|♕-Reader]

 We all deserve the same love, no matter if we’re are chubby, thin, tall, short, have white or colored skin, are a female, male or an other gender. It simply doesn’t matter. And the boys would still love us. And they would teach us to love ourselves.  ⁉️| 📅

 ► Disobedience [Hoseok x Reader x Namjoon] 😈 [♔- Reader]

Summary: You are sexually frustrated, annoyed and bored, which is why you started to mastubate without the permission of you boyfriends, Namjoon and Hoseok. Even if they promised to take care of your needs tonight. But you don’t feel like waiting anymore. But you also didn’t expect that Hobi will catch you with your pastel blue dildo deep into your pussy...  

► l’innocence indécente [Jimin x Reader x Jungkook] 💋 [♔- Reader] 

Synopsis: Jungkook and Jimin want to try something new with you... and you have to admit that you like it. A lot... 

► Prey  [Jimin x Reader x Taehyung] 😈💋 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis:

► Birthday Princess [Yoongi x Reader x Taehyung feat. Jungkook] 😈 [♔- Reader] 

Synopsis: You have Birthday today and your two boyfriends make sure that you will be sexually pleased to the ultimate maximum...

► Birthday Gift [Seokjin x Reader x Jimin] 😈 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: Your Boyfriend Jimin bought you something very specific as your birthday present. You should use it as a preparation tool before you’ll get the real birthday gift tonight... 

 ► Halloween Special 💋😈  [♔- Reader]

 ► Easter Special 🌸💋😈

     ▪  Easter with her!  [♔- Reader]

     ▪  Easter with him!  [♚- Reader]

► My Fake-Texts Masterlist  [Semi-active/inactive] [♔- Reader]

Note: At the beginning of my blog I was more focused on making fake texts (simply it was easier and more comfortable for me back then because I was a bit insecure about my language struggles) but now it’s not my main thing anymore. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to make fake texts in general anymore but right now I like the “real” writing much more! So I don’t know when I’ll make new fake texts. 

► Improvisation 🌸💋😈 [♚-Reader]

Summary: This wasn't planned. Well, the whole world didn't planned to deal with a damn pandemic in 2020! If everything would have gone "normally", you would be in Seoul with Jin right in this moment and just enjoy that you're finally able to be close to Jin again. But now you two are stucked at home, Jin in his dorm in Seoul and you in your apartement in your town, far away from him. So you have to improvise for now on, how you want to deal with longing emotions and urging sexual desires... 

► Strawberry Kiss  🌸💋 [♕-Reader]

Summary: It's Friday Afternoon and when Jin comes home from work, the freshly baked strawberry cake smells deliciously. But he decided that a taste of you is even sweeter, especially when you're not wearing any underwear underneath your thin summer dress...

► Birthday Gift [Seokjin x Reader x Jimin] 😈 [♔- Reader]

►  Home  🌸🌧  [♕-Reader]

Summary: You finally managed to spend your two semesters abroad studying in Korea! However, after some unfortunate circumstances, you want nothing more than finally be able to fly home again. But your Roommate Namjoon has some ideas to make your year abroad still wonderful...  

► Precious  🌸💋 [♔- Reader]

Summary: Today is your birthday and because your last few weeks have been terribly stressful, you want nothing more than to be able to sleep in in your day off. However, Namjoon has to go to practice all day long, that’s why he has found a very gentle method of waking you up to unpack your presents together...   

► Disobedience ft. Hoseok 😈 [♔- Reader]

► Business Trip 💋😈 [♔- Reader] 

Summary: It's a stressful life to be the CEO of a big and international known company. Always hopping onto the next flight to a new investor or business partner, all around the globus. But sometimes he can't fix his little problem alone, so you need to help him out with some naughty stuff through these rough times of his job~   ► Jar of Kinks 💋😈 [♔- Reader] 

This Two-Shot is based on my own Jars of Kinks. 

I identify myself as a Switch. That's the reason why I decided to write a Two-Shot to my "Jar of Kinks". So I'd be able to write both Dynamics, with Dom! Yoongi and Sub! Yoongi as well. In this Index you'll find the links to the Oneshots, combinded with their summary and their individual warnings. 

► Touched 💋😈 [♔- Reader]

Summary: This week was just so awful and shitty, every muscle in your body hurts and you're absolutely exhausted from this horror week. But Yoongi has an Idea to relax you and make you feel so loved in a way, that couldn't make thousands of compliments.

►  Netflix and Chill  🌸🌞 [♕-Reader]

Summary: Hoseok and you are best friends, especially because you two share an unique passion for which you get sometimes quizzycally looks from others. Like every friday night you meet up to watch some series on Netflix together and massage and fondle the hair of each other. All the same, all innocent as ever. Until it comes to an certain situation and you realize the true meaning behind “Netflix and Chill” faster than you expected.   

► Disobedience ft. Namjoon 😈 [♔- Reader]  

► Little Swan  😈 [♔- Reader]

Sneak Peak: Laying open, completely helpless and so vulnerable in front of him. Presented like a meal on a silver tablet. His meal, his prey. Your wolf is starving, licking his lips with an animalistic and devilish smile at the sight of your parted pussy lips. Revealing his most desired things, this swollen and sensitive clit and this pretty tiny pussyhole. Clenching around nothing, literally begging to get filled with his fat cock and stuffed up with his cum until it’s leaking out of his little sweet swan...

► Mustang v8 💋🌞 [♔- Reader]  

Summary:  You kinda have a thing for the sound of the engine of a Mustang. How bad that Hoseok’s new car is a Mustang and that your Boyfriend looks super hot while driving!

► Study Break  🌸💋 [♔- Reader]

Summary: College wants to kill you right now. Exam Phase and then you have to write a 20 page long scientific work! Jimin and you barely see each other, you gave yourself completely to your studies. Until some specific needs some attention again...   

 ► Poolside Kisses 🌸💋😈 [♔- Reader]

Summary: Jimin said, you should pack a swimsuit into your suitcase when you're going to visit him in Korea. You thought, you'll go bathing somewhere privately, maybe just with the boys or so... and not going to a pool party of one of Jimin's Idol friends where you'll not know anybody! Since then you hate yourself that you only brought your new bikini to Korea that reveals more of your bare skin that you're used to... 

► Mousse au Chocolat 💋 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: You are Jimin’s favourite dessert...

► l’innocence indécente ft. Jungkook 💋 [♔- Reader]

► Birthday Gift [Seokjin x Reader x Jimin] 😈 [♔- Reader]

► Dirty little Secret  

Summary: Whenever you leave your apartement for work, you're carrying a dirty little secret to your workplace as well. To be more specific, you wear inconspicuous sex-toys underneath your business attire to keep your sex-craving libido under control. Nobody noticed something and everything went well... until now. Until your Boss and secret crush, Park Jimin, bursts into your office unannounced and hears something buzzing which definitely doesn't come from your phone. Even worse, he sees a certain remote-control laying on your desk that seems to be surprisingly familiar to him... 😈 [♔- Reader]

► The Definition of Art  🌸💋 [♚-Reader]

Summary: You’re under Taehyung’s total mercy. Tied up, bare and trembling you lay spread out in front of your boyfriend who loves to turn you into his personal piece of art... 

► Deflowered 🌸💋🌧  [♔-Reader]

Summary: You're getting married tomorrow and you want to say goodbye to your mare. There you met the stable boy Taehyung for the last time, who's your best friend and childhood crush at the same time. You will experience a stormy night full of love and passion and you'll give the biggest proof of love to him...

► The hands of a sinner 💋😈

(The Idea of this Fanfiction has two versions: for female and male readers!)

For her! [♔- Reader]

For him! [♚-Reader]

Summary: Since Jungkook got his hand tattoos, you’ve found out that they have a stronger effect on you than you would like it. You also have good reasons not to tell him that you are developing a kink for this tattoos. And these reasons getting confirmed... 

►  Goddess of the sun 💋 [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: Jungkook is the best servant for his Queen and Goddess 

► The walls 💋😈  [♔- Reader]

Synopsis: You don’t know why but today was the first Day you realized how buff and bulky Jungkook’s Biceps are. And the fact that they look delicious when they’re tensed up…

► l’innocence indécente ft. Jimin 💋 [♔- Reader]

► Der Geliebte  🌸 💋 [♔- Reader]

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings... 

 ► The laundry hamper  🌸 🌞 💋 😈 [♔- Reader] Summary: Jungkook has a crush on you since you moved together for college but the poor boy is way too shy to confess his feelings to you... rather he would search through your laundry hamper to get a shirt which smells after your very personal scent and tries to calm his racing heart... and other nerves. He didn’t thought to get catched by the person who already stole his whole heart in the most embarrassing situation...

This is probably the most important information on this blog 💌  

Don't be shy around me!  

You can feel absolutely free to talk to me, to stuff my inbox (even when you just want to ramble or to fangirl etc.) and my PMs are always open too! So don't hesitate to get in contact with me, you're not awkward or weird, okay?💕💕  

I'm pretty curious about you guys too and Im always up to become mutuals or even friends, okay? 🤗  

Love you, Tipsy 💜

 [Dates]

Published: 27th December 2019

Last Update: 10th August 2021

[iwantitiwriteit]

Love Lockdown - Part 3

Lovesick

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris braces himself for his FaceTime with you.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: First In My Feelings Monday™ on books! Hopefully there’ll be more musings as the weeks go on, but I loved the whimsy the mindset added to me day! 🥰 This part was kind tough to write cos it required me to get into an opposing mind frame from the Reader, but a fun challenge nonetheless! Read the previous part here!

As much as he loved Winter in Boston, it was Spring that really captured Chris’ heart.

He’d been watching the beautiful day pass by outside his home office window while he took a few remote meetings with his team. Lockdown didn’t mean shutdown, for Chris at least, as he’s in preparation mode for an upcoming virtual press junket.

However, as soon as those glorious words, “That’s all for today,” were uttered, he upped and gathered his jacket, Dodger and headed for the front door.

“Going for a walk!” He called over his shoulder, his way of saying he’d be back soon.

“Alright, let me grab my jacket!” Scott said in response. Chris sighed and laughed to himself as he waited by the door for his brother. “What?” Scott asked when he got to Chris, who was shaking his head at his brother’s self-invite. He just laughed lightly as they bounded for the street, locking the door behind them.

It took Chris some growing up to appreciate this season. Truly appreciate it. But he’s so glad he does now. There’s a polarity in its elements that make it unique from the other seasons. 

The bright sun peeks from behind thick clouds every so often, fully exposed and giving light gloriously. The flowers, shy and budding in March, are now in April, with just a little time, bold and in bloom. The trees billowing in the cold wind are unaware of their own fierce presence, so gentle in their saving grace that is their shade.

Kind of complex, Spring in Boston. Could be perceived as annoying in its inconsistency of temperature within a 24 hour period; cold one part of the day then hot the next. But he loved that not everyday or every hour was the same. Kept him on his toes in a way.

 He couldn’t help but imagine how you’d like it here at this time of year. How he’d like you here with him. To have you on this walk right now. To hold you close when the sharp wind cuts through, chilling you both. You’d say what you always say when you snuggle up to him for warmth; that your southern bones feel the cold more than he does.

Maybe it’s true. Or Maybe it’s a lame excuse to be closer to him. Either way, he’d never complain. He loves it. He loves you.

Chris smiles to himself at the thought. Yeah, you’d love it here in the Spring. Definitely more than you did in December. What a start to a shit show that turned out to be. Chris hates to think about it. But his brain can’t help but go back there sometimes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Scott asks, walking alongside his brother.

Chris lets out a long breath. He’s back there right now. But it doesn’t start and stop there. December makes him think of January. January makes him think of February. Then March, and before he knows it, he’s been through the chain of events that led you two here: Him in Boston, and you in Tennessee. In love but hurting from it. In the midst of a pandemic? Your relationship is just as uncertain as the end to the world’s madness.

Chris kicks himself at the painful memories. Shaking his head, he looks over to Scott who is patient as his brother finds his words.

“I’m thinking that despite the craziness of the last few weeks, months even, and being on lockdown...”

“Uh-huh…” Scott says knowing there’s more

“In an odd way, I’ve felt more free than I have in a while.”

“How’s that?”

“Well… hasn’t it been kinda great being, ya’know, solo...?” Chris eludes, not wanting to say the actual words.

“Huh? Oooooh!” Scott says as he catches Chris’ drift.

Chris won’t lie; the last 3 weeks away from you have been headache free. The bachelor lifestyle coming back to him with ease. He’s spent enough years on his own to know how to revel in the perks of singleness. No side eyes when he’s yelling at CNN or football, no being told to do stupid, necessary chores that can wait til he’s ready, and no one to get hurt when he’s inevitably fucked up in some way or another.

“Only problem is, I’m the only one of us who’s actually single.”

“Right… I know, and don’t get me wrong! I feel really lucky she hasn’t left me yet, and that she’s stuck it out with me for this long. I really can’t imagine my life without her.”

“But…” Scott prompts.

Chris is hesitant as he starts again. “But lately, guiltily...I wonder if that would be such a bad thing. If we were to… ya’know,” Chris makes weird hand motions that Scott eventually interprets as “breakup”.

“It’s a wonder you’re any good at charades.”

As much as he feels bad and knows he could’ve done some things differently, handled some things better, Chris is sooo frustrated with you.

“Why won’t she just tell me what she’s really thinking— exactly what she’s feeling. I’m not a fucking mind reader! You would think it’d be easy for her, considering what she does for a living, I don’t get it man.”

Scott waits for his cue for Chris to ask the golden question, but when he doesn’t hear it, he looks over at his older brother. Chris looks every bit a boy that’s absolutely lovesick, kicking the rocks in his way, pouting down at his feet. “You want my opinion?” Scott eventually offers.

“Please. I don’t think Dodger’s gonna give me anything good.” Chris bends down to pet the pup quickly before continuing their walk

“I think she has told you what she’s feeling— just not explicitly from her mouth.”

“If that’s the case, then her shutting down every time we’re addressing an issue is supposed to mean…?”

“You’ve got to give her some room to emote, cos you can be a bit, well, you know.” Chris did know, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

Accusations from past girlfriends of him not listening, only hearing, what’s been communicated have not gone unnoted. That, coupled with his bubbling emotions have led to many a breakup in his life. Relationships demoted to damn near flings the way women have come and gone from his life. But what he has with you couldn’t just be another relationship for the books. Chris wants to break the cycle with you… for you.

“I thought I was doing that when I suggested we social distance separately. Then last night she made it very clear that I was very wrong.”

“I could’ve told you that you were very wrong. Tax free.” The two men make their way back to the house. Looking at his brother before him, all sad and distraught, Scott was not going to let him start his own pity party.

“I don’t want to lose her. She’s the one. She’s my one. I know it.”

“Then don’t lose her.”

“When’s anything EVER been that simple?”

“I’m not saying it is, but if you know she’s the one, don’t give up so easily bro. Try everything in your power to give her the relationship she deserves. And she will do the same for you. But, if the problems still persist, then maybe, it would be for the best if…” Scott trails off as he sees his brother’s eyes start to look like those of the dog by their feet. “Look, I’m just telling you from personal, very recent experience, that it isn’t all that bad being friends on the other side of it all.”

“Ugh, God! I think I’d rather have a limb caught off and force fed to me than try to be friends with her if we ever… I can’t even say it.” Chris pokes his tongue out like he’s tasted something awful.

“You’re being hella dramatic right now.”

“But bro, I’m not even exaggerating!” The brothers laugh as they walk up the driveway. As they cross the threshold of the front door, Chris’ reminder for your FaceTime call sounds off, echoing in the foyer. He turns it off and looks up at his brother. “That’s the call to my love’s fate” he tries to joke.

Scott wears a soft, empathetic smile “Everything’s gonna be just fine. No matter what.”

Chris tries to wear some optimism, but the possibility of this being the end of your relationship tugs at him. He won’t let it get a hold of him. “Thanks, bro. I’ll see you later. And DO NOT eavesdrop.”

“Whaaaat??? I would never!” Scott feigns offense. Chris looks unconvinced. “Dodge and I are gonna enjoy an afternoon movie, isn’t that right Dodgey Wodgey?” 

“Dodger’s not even buying it. Stop it.”

“Yeah, that was weird. See ya later, man.”

Chris takes the stairs to his bedroom two by two. He sets up his laptop, making sure to plug in its charger; wouldn’t want it to die on this call.

He paces around the space in front of his desk. As many video calls as he’s done the past few weeks, none of them were as important as this one. Nervousness washes over him. He decides to embrace it; it’s natural, and a good sign. He still cares. He can only hope you do, too. 

The digital clock strikes 2. It’s time.

He calls you, the laptop ringing for a while longer than his beating heart can take. His heart sinks and doubts creep in. Is this is it? Is she done with me? No fight, no… nothing? This can’t be it. But then the ringing ceases and the screen says “connecting”, a sigh of relief involuntarily escaping him.

He can’t help but beam, proud he knows you better than his negative thoughts do. Happy that you wouldn’t leave him high and dry. 

Then he sees your face. Your beautiful face. The natural lighting of your room bouncing off your gorgeous, brown skin. Your hair is the perfect combination of defined curls and loose wisps, neat but not overly so. You are the epitome of effortless, natural beauty. He almost feels like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles. 

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension, even through a screen. He hadn’t done a good job of setting up this conversation with peace of mind for you, now that he thinks about it. “We need to talk” is almost always followed by some heavy, unwanted shit. Not that this talk will be easy, but he most certainly doesn’t want you thinking the worst. He genuinely wants to talk; explain his fuck ups and frustrations. And try to listen.

He figures since he’s put you two here, it’s his job to steer this ship to calmer, nicer waters. Here goes. He tries some small talk, anxiety making him ramble. “So, how’s the… weather? That’s a stupid— ugh, I’m sure it’s, like, hot. You’re down south, where it’s hot—”

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

There it is; his worst fear. Losing you. No. He was determined to let his optimism win. Determined that his ears were deceiving him in this moment.

“What do you mean?”

Chris is too all in to go down without a fight, and  fight for you he was prepared to do.

Part 4 | What’d you think?

[friendofspidermannedleeds]

2020 overview: writing edition 

Tagged by the loveliest and kindest of friends, @momentofmemory​. 

I’m not tagging anyone because I’ve not been around and am sure most have done this by now, but if you’re reading this and you’ve not been tagged and would like to participate please say I tagged you! <3 

1. List of works published this year 

The Kid Really is Smitten (Peter & Happy, Peter/MJ. 233) Nightmares and New Beginnings (May & Peter. 733)  Normal Teenager Stuff (May & Peter. 5+1, 1.8k)  Breaking a Promise (May & Peter, May & Tony. 3.3k) Carry Me (Morgan & Happy. 1.2k)

Fictober 2020 Series  * Works around 1k+ include:  Somebody to Talk To (May & Karen. 1.8k) Fireproof (Happy & Peter. 904) Flight Conversation (MJ & Peter. 967) Incalculable Worth (Ben & Peter. 2.8k) Regrets (May & Peter. 1.2k) A Nice Peaceful Afternoon (Mr. Harrington and the AcaDec kids. 3k) 

Knowing (Peter/MJ, May & MJ. 2.5k)  Forever Ours (May & Peter, May/Ben. 3.8k)  2. Work you are most proud of (and why)

I think it would have to be Incalculable Worth from my Fictober series. I’m forever disappointed in the Ben Parker erasure of the MCU and had been wanting to give him the respect he deserves. Most of this fic came to me much more quickly than my typical writing inspo (that Fictober deadline magic!), and even though I still have things I might change about the final product, I’ve never been so pleased with a fic’s result and reception. Several lovely people stumbled across this fic on Ao3 and left kind comments about how moved they were, which makes me think that I did what I set out to do! 

3. Work you are least proud of (and why)

This would be Nightmares and New Beginnings. I just think it’s weird. I was so new to fic when I wrote it and was feeling experimental one night. I normally write quite slowly and edit a lot, but the idea for this one came to me after midnight and I published the fic before 2am. I hated it when I woke up and nearly deleted it. Two months later, as I was beginning to post Fictober on Ao3, I almost deleted it once again. The words of one extremely kind commenter saved it from destruction, however, so it’s still there! 

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing 

This is going to be hard for me because I don’t actually enjoy my writing for its composition! I like the concepts and character interactions a lot but I’m not terribly proud of my actual writing ability yet. 😬 

My favorite thing I’ve written lately is the ending to Forever Ours, my new fic about May and Ben adopting Peter, but I don’t want to put it here because it might be a very minor spoiler. 

So here’s a little section of Trust, my last Fictober ficlet. I liked it because May’s inner turmoil over Peter’s Spider-Man life is one of my absolute favorite things to write about. 

What troubles her most is this: whatever is out there, whoever he’s fighting—they won’t know he is fifteen. That he’s a child. That he loves Legos, and Star Wars, and science puns, and Mathletes. But what can she say? 

He’s not asking for permission. He’ll do this no matter what she says, and they both know it. 

He is asking for her blessing.

5. Share or describe a favourite review you received

This review meant so much to me! This lovely commenter read multiple May and Ben Parker fics and it was so nice to find that I’m not the only one who wants more of the Parker family than what we get in the MCU. It made me feel like my niche writing wasn’t of interest to me and me alone after all. :) 

6. A time when writing was really, really hard

Halfway through Fictober, I lost one of the most important people in my life. It was devastating. Writing was nice about 90% of the time, and actually a nice distraction that helped me take a break from the grief. But sometimes it wasn’t, sometimes it felt impossible, and that was when I’d just skip writing or posting and wait until it would serve me again. (So I finished Fictober a little later than I wanted to, but I have 0 regrets about that.) 

7. A scene of characters you wrote that surprised you

I only wrote one thing that wasn’t an MCU Spidey fic, and that was Carry Me with Morgan and Happy. I wasn’t expecting to write it at all, and it’s not one of my favorite finished fics, but I really enjoyed the process. 

8. How did you grow as a writer this year

I grew by writing fic for the first time! My job for the majority of this year involved a lot of nonfiction copywriting, so I’m an experienced writer, but I had no idea what writing would be like outside my “professional life.” I’m glad I tried it! 

9. How do you hope to grow next year

I’m hoping to finish and publish a longer (for me) fic! I’m currently working on Penance, a fic about MCU Spidey’s origins and Uncle Ben’s influence. It should be at least 6-7k by the time I’m finished. I know that is actually short, but I haven’t even cracked 4k yet 😂 Longer fics stress me out because I don’t feel confident enough in my ability to tie together so many words, and I also can’t come up with plots to save my life. So this will be a stretch for me and I am looking forward to it! 

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta of cheerleader or muse etc. etc.)

This is, without question, @momentofmemory​. For so many reasons. (Sorry in advance for how rambly this will get, my friend.) 

Mem’s writing (particularly this May fic that is perfection and no I will never stop rec’ing it til the day I die thank you) is to blame/thank for getting me into fic in the first place. I’d been here in the Spidey fandom on Tumblr but I didn’t trust fanfic because I’d seen my most beloved characters shoved to the side/killed off in too many stories. I began 2020 hating all fanfic tbh. But then I read Mem’s captivating masterpieces (like this, the greatest one-shot!) and opened my heart to fic that celebrates the worlds I love! 

Mem is the kindest human ever. She read ALL of my Fictober works and left the kindest comments that made my heart soar. Knowing that my favorite author had taken the time to read all of that motivated me to write more than anything else has this year! 

Sometimes, when I was trying to write fic but felt burned out or uninspired, I’d go and read Mem’s writing. Her prose is divine, her dialogue is realistic, her characters and their relationships are so well thought-out--her work inspires me! I’d read it and feel excited by the ways that we can use our words to create beautiful things, and though I’m not anywhere near her level, I do think that reading her work has made me a better writer. 

Bonus positive influence: @i-lovethatforme​! Jess, thank you for being the world’s best cheerleader, for being endlessly kind and supportive, and for being my first ever beta in November. I go back and read your wonderful comments whenever I’m doubting myself. You’re an absolute gem and ilysm ❤

11. Anything from real life show up in your writing this year?

Yep. Regrets is about grief, and I was grieving pretty heavily when I wrote it. Peter’s regrets didn’t necessarily mirror mine, but writing it was still a cathartic experience. 

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers

Write what you want to write! Since I don’t do IronDad or smut, I wasn’t sure if anyone in the MCU Spidey fandom would be interested in my work. I thought briefly about trying to write based on what I thought people would read, but I decided against it. I enjoy writing platonic friendships and family fic more than anything else, so that’s what I publish most. I write what I want to write, and it’s made me so happy! 

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year?

I have a few things I’m excited about! I’ve got some Spideychelle ficlets that might be a series. They’ll focus on Peter and MJ after coming back from The Blip, featuring MJ trying to ignore her crush and Peter developing a crush. The other is Penance, the MCU Spidey origins/Ben Parker story. 

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year

I think I’d say Knowing, my fic about Peter/MJ that’s more about MJ & May bonding. I just love these two women with all my heart, and I’m proud of the way this one turned out because I think it honors both of them pretty solidly.  

15. End of Year word count

36,625 words! It’s not a lot in comparison to other writers but it’s a huge accomplishment for me! 

[trixie-pixie]

wish you were sober - songfic

Note: I just want to make it clear that I have absolutely NO intention of demonizing addiction with this story. With that being said, here’s a songfic I wrote that is PURE angst and mostly just a vent. Find me on AO3 at soleil_louise !!

This party’s shit, wish we could dip

Go anywhere but here

Trixie had gotten dragged along to yet another party with Katya. She didn’t even like going to them. She hated the noise, hated the smell of alcohol, hated being stared at by people who barely knew her, let alone liked her. She was only there for Katya, who had disappeared to “get another drink” over half an hour ago.

This wasn’t an irregular occurrence. Katya would beg Trixie to come to these parties with her, and Trixie would agree, only for her sake. Katya almost always abandoned her halfway through, until she needed a ride home at the end of the night. Trixie sipped on the one beer she was allowing herself tonight.

Don’t take a hit, don’t kiss my lips

And please don’t drink more beer

The idea of a one beer allowance was something completely alien to Katya, who always got completely trashed at parties. That was the entire point of going, she had explained to Trixie once. Getting drunk was just part of the fun, they were teenagers, damn it.

Trixie couldn’t agree less- nothing sounded less fun to her than being drunk. The idea of not being in control of her body terrified her. What if someone tried to attack her, and she wasn’t able to fight them off? What if someone put something in her drink? What if she got hurt?

I’ma crawl out the window now

‘Cause I don’t like anyone around

Kinda hope you’re following me out

But this is definitely not my crowd

Trixie desperately wanted to leave. It was 11:30, she was tired, and her feet hurt from the heels she had squeezed them into. Her dress was uncomfortable, and it was way too loud here. She could barely think over the blasting music. How were they not getting noise complaints?

She knew she couldn’t leave, though. She had to be there to make sure Katya was safe. She had to drive them home, and she would never forgive herself if Katya had gotten in the car with a stranger, or worse, tried to drive herself home. God forbid something happened to her. Trixie couldn’t bear the thought of her best friend getting hurt, no matter how many times Katya hurt her. 

Nineteen but you act twenty-five now

Knees weak but you talk pretty proud, wow

Ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed

Take me where the music ain’t too loud

It wasn’t that Katya was just drinking to be irresponsible. It made her confident. Happy, even. No matter how awful it was to say, Trixie didn’t think she’d ever seen Katya as happy as she was when she went to parties. Sober, she was an anxious wreck. Always scared to say the wrong thing, always worrying about what people thought about her. Drinking helped her loosen up. It made her feel like she felt like she could do anything.

Trixie had brought up how unhealthy that was to her once. Katya had gotten defensive- saying that it’s not her business how she helps herself. Trixie was a mess of anxiety as well, Katya was just the one doing something about it. She had apologized almost immediately, but it still hurt. Trixie now knew better than to try to solve her problems.

Trade drinks but you don’t even know her

Save me ‘til the party is over

Katya hadn’t always been so reckless. The first few times, she just got tipsy. But as time went on, she got more and more reckless with it. Drinking at parties turned into drinking after school. Two drinks turned into three, turned into five, turned into more than Trixie could count. Dancing with her friends turned into doing things she knew she’d regret, if she remembered them by morning.

This made Trixie so angry. She just wanted to yell at her, tell her that she was ruining her life. Katya could end up hurt, or worse. Trixie feared the day that she heard about a drunk driving accident on the news, or the night that Katya ends up in the wrong place with the wrong people at the end of a party. She just wanted to protect her, but she didn’t know how.

Kiss me in the seat of your rover

It had happened after one of the first parties they went to. At least, that was the first time it happened. They had driven Katya’s car there. At the end of the night, Trixie drove Katya home, and that’s when it happened.

Katya’s mouth tasted like vodka, cigarette smoke, and red lipstick, but Trixie didn’t care. Katya kissed with a hunger that Trixie had never experienced before. They made out in her car for nearly half an hour, until Katya had tried to take it further and Trixie had to break it off. There was no way she was gonna do anything more than kiss Katya right now, while she was drunk and Trixie was most definitely not.

That one time turned into two, turned into three, turned into almost every party they went to. It almost always ended with Katya pouncing on Trixie, and Trixie giving in. No matter how upset and tired Trixie was at the end of the night, Katya always felt like safety and warmth.

Real sweet but I wish you were sober

Katya never remembered it the day after it happened. If she did, she never brought it up.

Trixie always remembered. God, did she remember. Those moments played in her head over and over every night. The things she felt for Katya were more than just drunk makeouts in a car. More than just flirty glances. She wanted to hold Katya, wanted to make her feel safe. She wanted to kiss her during the day. Hold her hand in public. But Katya never remembered. Sometimes it felt more like she was choosing to forget.

Tripped down the road, walking home

You kissed me at your door

It hurt Trixie more than anything to know that Katya only felt that way towards her when she was drunk. To know that no matter how in love with her she is, Katya will never feel the same way. Almost every night, she lay awake, wondering why. Why wasn’t she enough for Katya unless she was drunk? Was she just another drunk hookup for her, another pretty girl to kiss and then ignore? Why didn’t she want her?

Pulling me close, begged me to stay over

But I’m over this rollercoaster

Even more than she felt hurt, she felt angry. She tried, time after time, to show Katya how in love with her she was. She had been trying for years. But she never cared. Never wanted her unless she got wasted first. Trixie put so much effort into being good enough for her. She dragged herself to these parties, had practically begged Katya to hang out with her. But it was never enough, was it? She was never enough.

I’ma crawl out the window now

Getting good at saying “gotta bounce”

Honestly you always let me down

And I know we’re not just hanging out

Katya barely even wanted to see her anymore. Rarely answered her calls, never met her for lunch like they used to. She had better friends now, better things to do. People who weren’t smothering her, people who weren’t “too much”. Trixie barely saw her outside of parties at this point, and even then, Katya usually abandoned her halfway through, until she’d show up and try to make it up to Trixie by making out with her.

Nineteen but you act twenty-five now

Knees weak but you talk pretty proud, wow

Katya just got to have all of the fun, didn’t she? She got to lead Trixie on, kissing her at parties, holding on to her waist like she was hers. She didn’t have to deal with any of the guilt, or the responsibility, or the insecurity. She just got to do what she wanted, and have what she wanted, and she knew Trixie would hand it over to her at any moment.

Why did she do that? Why did she always give in to her? Trixie knew that she would just be nothing to her the next morning, but she made the same mistakes every night that they went out, kissing the girl she was so hopelessly in love with until her brain turned to TV static. She just wanted Katya to care about her. To love her, to take care of her the way she deserved.

Trade drinks but you don’t even know her

Save me ‘til the party is over

She was going to give Katya a piece of her mind. This ended tonight. She was done being lead on, done with not being cared about. The was fucking over it.

She saw Katya standing in the kitchen, refilling her cup and talking with some girls that Trixie knew as the “new friends”.

“We need to talk. Outside. Now.” Trixie said, trying to hold her ground. Katya giggled when she saw her.

“Hi babydoll, what’s up? Did you miss me?” the girl asked, her words slightly slurred. Trixie grabbed her arm.

“We’re going outside. Come on.”

Trixie led Katya outside, looking for a place that wasn’t infested with horny, drunk teenagers and that no drunk girls had thrown up in. She settled on the driveway of the house that tonight’s party was being held at.

“What are we out here for, baby? The party’s in there. Did you miss me too much, doll? Couldn’t wait?” Katya teased. Trixie’s face burned red as her fists clenched in anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Katya? You can’t just lead me on like this! You can’t fucking do that! You know how I feel, and I’m fucking over it.”

Katya frowned.

“Baby, I know you don’t mean that. Come here, okay?” Katya responded. Trixie felt tears stinging her eyes, but moved closer to Katya, who leaned in.

Kiss me in the seat of your rover

Real sweet but I wish you were sober

The night ended with the two of them making out, again. Nothing changed, of course. Trixie drove a drunk Katya home, who would ignore her in the morning. She drove home with a feeling of emptiness in her chest. Like her heart had been ripped out again, a fresh wound replacing what had just begun to heal over.

If she didn’t have anything, at least she had these nights. Maybe that was all she deserved, she thought. Maybe this was all she needed. She didn’t need anything else. She could survive.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 18th, Friday 05:28

Jens waited. Patiently watched the slow rising and falling of the half uncovered bare chest of the boy next to him. It was soothing to see the ease behind the movment.

He was uncertain when exactly he had woken up, given the everpresent darkness of the winter. But he couldn’t have gotten much sleep. That was quite evident in the heaviness of his eyes. At least it must have been a little more than the last couple of days. Not that it didn’t fell awfully short of a proper rest.

With a sigh on his lips, he let his gaze wander up his boyfriends chest, past the dip above the collarbone that gave way to the curve of the slim neck he knew blind. Jens had buried his face in it more than he could count by now.

His eyes reached the jawline and then the chin and lastly the lips, slightly parted. His boyfriend was just very faintly snoring. A smile dared to cross Jens, until his boyfriend stirred awake, Lucas’s eyes blinking open with a low groan.

The alarm had rung.

“I’m sorry.”

The whisper came fast over Jens’s lips, faster than he had anticipated, leading Lucas to turn onto his side. Only to face Jens with an odd confusion at the first words exchanged this early friday morning. However last night must have caught up with Lucas, as it visibly dawned on him how they had left off.

A deep frown graced his boyfriend’s face.

Jens had turned yesterday’s argument over and over again in his head, unable to find peace with it when it painfully accurately ended up the way it did every single time. He hated his past self so much. Therefore Jens had vowed to be a better person, better than with everyone he had been before, and just apologise right away. It had worked last time Jens had fucked up. He prayed it would be enough this time around as well. 

Lucas hadn’t gone home. His boyfriend had stayed. Jens had felt the weight dropping from his shoulders the second he had seen the younger boy already fast asleep upstairs in bed at half past eleven. It must surely count for something, right?

“It‘s okay. I absolutely understand why you were so frustrated. I really should have just done it.” 

Jens decided that he didn’t deserve his boyfriend.

“No, it is not okay. It isn’t your responsibility. It’s mine alone. My house, my things. You helping out so much shouldn’t be the norm. And more than anything, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, especially over such a small thing.”

The two boys fell quiet again for a long second after Jens’s apology. He didn’t believe he should be let that easily of the hook. He should do more than say a couple of words. Jens was sure he had hurt Lucas with his anger over forgotten laundry. 

“Thank you.” Jens breathed out. This was really what he wanted to say all along. 

“For what?”

“Being here?” Jens replied unsure of what exactly made him feel all the things he felt, when he constantly found himself looking at Lucas. Overly grateful for very stolen glance he got, without getting caught by blue eyes staring back.

“Being you, really. Thank you for staying.“ Jens took another deep breath before he continued. „Thank you for not leaving me. I don’t think I could have managed the last couple of weeks without you. And thank you for just accepting all of it. I’m afraid I wouldn’t have done the same if the roles were reversed, to be honest. And to know that feels shit.”

It was true. The moment he came to acknowledge the conclusion Jens had reached last night, after he had joined Lucas in bed, with a mind racing lacking a goal, had been shattering. Jens wouldn’t have stayed around his previous girlfriends. Jens hadn’t stayed around for Robbe, when his best friend needed him most, without a mother and home to stay. 

He knew he wouldn’t have stayed for Lucas if it had been the younger boy’s mom instead.

If he hadn’t already cried as much already, he certainly would have again as he had watched the dark shadows of the branches outside his window. Without tears, he only felt hurt, until exhaustion lead him to fall asleep.

“Well, aren’t we lucky then, that I am the one to help you out.” Lucas said as a matter of fact, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Maybe Jens could cry now? He felt like he should, given his heart was beating fast and loud up to his throat.

“Are you like godsend?“ Jens asked into the space between them. „Honestly. Did you cut of your wings or something. Because I seriously don’t understand how you showed up at my doorstep the moment I needed you most. A person to lean on, to trust. I don’t get it.”

Lucas just laughed back at him, amused by the crinkling of his eyes, as his eyes were still focused on Jens. He felt genuinly dumbfounded at the reaction. He knew it didn’t sounded cool or well worded, but still, it was the most honest he could be at the moment. How else was he able to convey his feelings in a better, more accurate way?

“Sorry.“ Lucas quickly apologised, calming steadly down. The smirk never left. „You are just so cheesy. What movie did you get that from?”

“My own. I’m writing it as we speak.” Jens teased, his confidence brought back, after he had to endure to have been laughed at. Jens couldn’t help but join in on the pleasant joy his boyfriend showed. Perhaps it was a little funny. It almost made him forget about last night. He hoped it would do the same for Lucas. He prayed his boyfriend could forget about it as fast as he could forgive Jens.

„You didn’t know shit about me in October. And when you found out, you somehow decided that this would be a great first relationship experience to have? Why, Luc? Why?“

It was a question Jens had asked himself so often til now, it was burned into his skull. He just couldn’t believe a person to be capable of glossing over the fact, that this was a miserable thing to get oneself into. Willingly on top of it.

„I don’t know. It just felt right, I guess.“ The younger boy said with a shrug of his shoulder.

Jens just decidedly stared at the boy in wonder. Again the voice inside his head reminding him that he didn’t deserve his boyfriend. This was gonna become a common thought, Jens feared.

Lucas didn’t apparently minded the fast pace of change between them. Screaming and hurting in one moment. Forgiving and joking in the next. Because Lucas simply leaned over, kissing Jens out of his stupor, before the younger boy got up.

„Come on, you can’t be late to school two days in a row.“ His boyfriend stated and Jens unfortunately had to agree, as he watched Lucas throw on a hoodie and socks.

„Lucas?“ Jens called for him, as the boy was up and almost at the door, to leave for the bathroom. Jens wasn’t sure where the drastic need suddenly stemmed from. It was the wrong time for it. It really was. Especially after yesterday and everything Jens had done and said. This morning hadn’t been long enough to let the boys forget about it. But Jens just had to say it out loud. Let Lucas know, before the younger boy would leave the room. So Jens sat cautiously up from his spot on the bed, biting his bottom lip.

„Yes?“ 

„I love you.“

He could see the moment it hit Lucas, as the boy paused in his movement. The hand raised to open the door, but never grabbed the knob, instead hovering between the wooden plane and the boy’s body, as he turned slowly. 

Jens shouldn’t have said it. He strongly believed to have been right in his assumption, until Lucas’s face lit up in adoration, a grin reaching from one ear to the other.

„I love you, too.“

And then the younger boy opened the door and left.

Jens just fell back into the pillows, too bewildred to get up right away. 

He could probably take another minute. He needed to take another minute.

__ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

notes are in the tags somehow... thanks for sticking around! 

[cloakedandsoaked]

Wants and Needs

[This is straight-up porn. Don’t read it if you don’t want to read porn. Contains lots of blood, a wee bit of self-harm, consensual non-consent, and probably other things I haven’t thought to warn for.]

As Dantalion threw his head back, lines of fire cutting down each side of him, his last remaining thought flickered in wonder at how he had managed to find himself here. For ‘here’ he most certainly was, covered in sweat and ichor, with a demon he'd just met leaning over him in an unfamiliar bed, to which he was tightly bound. And then the thought was gone, banished with all the others to wherever thoughts disappear to in the throes of ecstasy.

If it had stuck around, it might have elucidated for us the circumstances that had led Dantalion to this peculiar state of affairs. Indeed, it might have told first of the deep itch that had taken hold in his bones some time over the past few days, an itch to which he was all too accustomed. It came in times of stress, in times of boredom, and, sometimes, at least as far as the duke himself could tell, for no particular reason at all.

In the past, he would have ignored such an itch. Or, failing that, he might have tried to scratch it himself, though that usually didn't take very well or for very long -- and it seemed to upset Sahar, which he had no real inclination to do.

But now….

Well, he had been trying to allow himself as much of what he wanted as possible. In the aftermath of his emotional experiments, giving in to desire seemed to help quiet the hollowness, at least for a time.

And what he desired was for someone to hurt him. Properly.

Not enough, of course, to render him unfit for duty; he was needy, not insane. He just wanted someone to, y'know. Rough him up a bit. Take the edge off that grasping, cloying thirst beneath his skin that cried out for some kind of stimulation.

One of the downsides to using his physical form as a sensory muffler was that he sometimes felt too muffled, almost claustrophobic under the smothering blanket burrito of his flesh. And since he wasn't going to leave that flesh unless absolutely necessary, sometimes -- just sometimes -- he needed something to reach between the bars of his self-made prison and touch him for real.

Or, at least, as close to 'real' as it was going to get.

He'd had Sahar set up the appointment for him, even allowing her to select the practitioner. Someone discreet, secure. (Obscenely well-paid, as should be obvious.) Thankfully, she had a shortlist ready and waiting, as it had been for years. It was an old argument of theirs, and, until now, she had never convinced him to book.

With only half an hour 'til the appointment, Dantalion had quite nearly bunnied out, despite the fact that he would lose his deposit. However, he found his mind turning to Asmodeus, and his resolve pulled through. Asmodeus would be disappointed by the idea that he couldn't even visit a professional dominant without turning coward. He took a deep breath, centered himself, and flipped the switch on his nervousness.

That's right, this is supposed to be good, isn't it? The hollowness was back, and with it, the itch, and with the itch, an unsettling but not unfamiliar sort of desire. Yes, this is how it's supposed to be. No more nights spent trying to clench himself together, or worse, trying to find fulfillment in his own claws, but unable to escape his bullet train of a mind even as he bled a pool onto the floor. Straightening his back, he had left his office with a new confidence.

And that confidence held, even through the consultation. Of course, he and Master Rodger (Really? Tal had thought, ‘Rodger’ of all things?) had communicated by email the day before, so both of them knew at least some of what to expect.

Well, Tal didn't expect Master Rodger to have easily a metre on him (Not even counting the horns, stars!); that part was a surprise. And not at all an unwelcome one, Tal noted vaguely in the part of his mind that wasn't focused on maintaining his social mask. Although he knew his mask was going to slip at some point in the evening, and, indeed, that was part of the point, it didn't do to be anything less than a perfect gentlebeing outside of the scene. Manners mattered.

It helped that Master Rodger (For real, that has to be a work name, Dantalion kept thinking. And of course it was.) was warm and open, exactly the sort of person to make one want to reflect those qualities back. It rang a bell of familiarity in Tal's mind; it carried an essence of similarity to the seeping heat of Asmodeus, but much less intense, and without the sense of nervousness and... almost… violation? that always came along with it.

(Then again, he hadn't seen Asmodeus except in picture form since his experiments with the switch method, and next time, the experience might be totally different. It was hard to say. He rather hoped so! That was part of the purpose of the whole affair, after all.)

They discussed the usual necessities. Safewords, limits, aftercare, any other concerns. They settled on the classic traffic light system for safewords; no surprise there. Most of Tal's limits had been outlined in their online communication, but he reinforced a few. I'm in charge of my breathing. I'm in charge of my eye contact. Master Rodger made a point of reminding him of a limit or two of his own, including 'no kisses on the mouth', one Tal actually took quite a bit of comfort in. It wouldn't have been something he'd have listed, himself, but it was certainly not something he enjoyed most of the time.

It did, admittedly, get a bit awkward when Dantalion had to show him (for it was a tricky subject) exactly how he liked and didn't like his hair and scalp to be touched. No amount of warmth and openness could save him there. He felt as if he were on display in a way far more scandalous than was typically possible for the amount of clothing he still had on. The sensation was, if he were honest with himself, a little bit exciting, though that didn't cut through the social ticklishness of the moment.

And then they were ready, and all at once, the nervousness from before sprang again like a tiger to devour him from the inside. In what way, he wasn't sure, but he must have revealed it as they made their way to the back room, for Master Rodger laid a paw in the middle of his back (which was honestly about as low as he could reach with his paw without bending; Stars, but he's tall!), and rubbed a calming circle there. "Just like we talked about, right? Is this okay?"

Tal first tensed at the contact, then relaxed into it. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. "First time jitters. It's fine. I'm a high-strung personality. But then again, that's why I'm here." He was babbling, and he realised it. Rather than continue, he nodded at Master Rodger, who opened the door for him.

"Five minutes, and we'll start. You can put your clothes on the chair by the door on the right." It was a solid acknowledgement of Tal's stated preference that he begin the scene already in the nude, and he appreciated it. Master Rodger gave him a once-over, and then corrected: "Make it three; I really don't want you sitting in there fretting a mess."

Tal smiled sheepishly, and went on in.

Four minutes later, he was turned over one comically long thigh, face and torso resting on the edge of the great, black bed, bum in the air.

Not all went so smoothly. Only a few minutes of spanking with some sort of implement (he couldn't see what, but he knew it wasn't a paw) had him flushed and squirming, and not with the response he had most hoped to have. This would have to be rectified. "Excuse me, sir?" he ground out, tense with the sensations and his own pride.

"Yes, kitten?" He stopped what he was doing, keen to listen to whatever it was that had made Dantalion speak up now, when he had been so seemingly reserved.

Tal sighed and shifted against the thick leg that bore him up. "I mean no offense, but this is really… doing more to turn me on than to hurt me." He pinked further in embarrassment, as if the evidence of his cock was not enough to humiliate him. Dantalion was clearly more than a little pent up.

"Already asking for more, eh? Greedy." He ran a single claw up Tal's spine, with just enough pressure to be felt. "I like it."

Tal shuddered at the implication on his skin, and his ears pricked as he heard a rustling noise. The anticipation was almost overwhelming as he waited, breathless, for the dom's next move. He wasn't expecting gentleness. 

However, that's exactly what he received; a velveted paw soothed small circles on his arse, coaxing out the too-small sting that had gathered there. Dantalion made a strangled noise between a sigh and a growl, and ground his hips up into the Master's leg.

"You have permission to ask me for 'more' any time you like. Understood, kitten?"

Dantalion twisted his face into the bed until his neck was crooked and only his mouth peeked out. This is torture! Fuck, it can't have even been fifteen minutes yet. "Yes, sir," he sighed, unsure whether either of them had really understood the point of this whole endeavor.

Crack!

Tal arched off the bed, more in shock than pain, though the pain hit him a half-second later, and he welcomed it with a soft moan as he collapsed back down. The moan was cut off with another stroke, followed by three in rapid succession. "Fuck," he hissed, hands scrambling to find purchase on the tight-laid bedsheets.

"Color?"

"Green, sir!" Tal's eyes ghosted closed as another short rain of blows fell with an unrelenting sting that had him panting again in seconds. This time, it was the proper kind of panting; the last thing on his mind was his cock. He spat a few choice swears into the bed, only just managing to 'be good' and stay in place on Master Rodger's knee. Not that he wanted to get away; far from it! But much longer, he knew, and his body would cease to obey him as he gave into the sensation. Tal was a writher.

Seeming to sense this, Master Rodger put a heavy paw between Tal's shoulders, not pushing, but steadying, guiding him back into place. The contact appeared to seep some of the rising tension from Tal's frame, and Master Rodger purred a few words of praise at the quick response.

Tal whimpered lightly at the regard, and was rewarded with a new rhythm of slaps, slow but unceasing and a little heavier than before. His mind began to fog with the first strands of that most pleasant of dizzinesses, and he knew he had to act quickly if he wanted to ask: "Sir, please," he breathed.

"Mn?"

"What in the name of good glorious fuck are you hitting me with?" he asked, voice giddy and a little awestruck. He wasn't gone yet, but he was too far gone to worry about sounding as easy as he truly was, which was a mercy.

Master Rodger chuckled softly, but didn't cease in his work. "Tawse. You said it was a favorite, mn?"

The answer surprised Tal, almost enough to bring him out of his happy place and into a realm more intellectual. Instead, he burst out giggling. He'd never had a tawse used on him over the knee before; it was just impractical for people with an average arm and thigh length to use with any real efficiency. Gods, did Sahar hit the mark with this one.

"Yes, sir," he eventually remembered to reply through the laughter.

"You're making me wonder if I'm hitting you hard enough, there, kitten." The Master's voice was light, but contained a genuine query.

"More please, sir!" Tal chirruped, despite the fact that his tremulous body had already begun to imitate the vibrations of a washing machine on spin.

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

And now, some fifty minutes later, Dantalion had lost his last thought to the claws of Master Rodger. His back was an utter ruin, stuck to the bedsheets with thick, black ichor. He had been flipped at some point, though he didn't have the presence of mind to remember how long ago. Everything was pain and the way his body gloried in it, trembling between the impulse to flee the aversion, and a hunger for more of the sensation lying beneath.

Every few moments, the former would win out, and, whimpering, he would recoil from the agony of claws ripping at the skin over his ribs. But then would come a hushed, encouraging word from the Master, perhaps a soft kiss to the jaw or a tug of hair, and the battle would shift once more in his favor.

This addling metre went on for some time, each pass pulling Dantalion deeper into the whistling throb of his flesh, a flesh which felt more expansive with each shuddered breath. He was crying in earnest, now, whether or not he realised it, and the ends of his hair were coated in the same blood that soaked the bed. Bloody too were his lips, which he had bitten nearly through in places, struggling to process the sensations happening in his body.

Master Rodger would rouse him to reality occasionally, just long enough to get a color from him (always a confident 'green'), but otherwise, Tal was lost.

Lost until he felt an unexpected sensation amidst the singing of his nerves.

He jerked his head up, and looked down through gummy eyelashes to see a rather intense-looking Master Rodger between his legs, one paw stroking Tal's cock. He hadn't even noticed he was hard again (or, perhaps, still), and wasn't that something? The absurdity of the situation overcame him, and he leveled a thoroughly poleaxed look at the dom, tear-reddened eyes awash with bewilderment at the change in circumstance.

Master Rodger took the reaction in his stride, pausing to soothe at Tal's lower belly, which had been left untouched by the methodical mauling of before. "You're okay, kitten. It's alright. You've done so well for me. I'm going to give you a little reward; does that sound good?"

It would be a lie to say the words didn't go directly to Tal's cock, nearly bypassing his mind altogether, as it was still quite muddled. But he managed to nod and mumble something that must have been an understandable affirmative, for Master Rodger resumed stroking him. (Lost to him for the moment was the fact that this had always been part of their plan; the pawjob wasn't meant to have been a surprise.)

The changeover in sensation was its own kind of violence, disrupting the settled flow of back-and-forth between too much and just enough that had categorised the previous stage of the scene for Dantalion. Now, there was no 'too much'; though the tacky sheets clung to the wounds of his back as if with tar, and his whole torso clamoured at him every time he tensed, none of it compared to the incandescence of a laceration in progress. And the pleasure he now felt was of a totally different stripe, tapping into a need less potent, but which he was still all too eager to have filled.

Speaking of being filled -- When Master Rodger was certain he had navigated the change, he allowed Dantalion a moment of respite while he fiddled around with something off to the side. Tal heard the tell-tale click of a lube pump (for what he now realised must be the second time, though the first had been lost in the fog), and had only a second to prepare before something chilled slicked at his entrance.

He tensed automatically, and before he could loosen again, Master Rodger was on the case. "Shh-shh, relax your body for me. Nice and easy. That's a good kitten." He placed a gentle kiss inside Tal's thigh, and his cock twitched in response, both to the praise and the kiss.

The Master slid a wedged cushion beneath his arse, propping him up for better access. It put a strain on his back and legs, and made him feel even more vulnerable than the restraints themselves. Too, it forced his balance backward onto his upper back, pressing his wounds all the more heavily into the bed.

However, something soon distracted him from all of that. A cool pressure captured his attention as the Master began sliding something into him. He had a silent thought of thanksgiving that the dom had listened and furthermore believed him when he had outlined that he required no preparation; the one-two-three fingers game was aggravating at the best of times for one who controlled the tension and dimensions of his own arsehole, and downright torturous at the worst, when all he wanted was a solid pounding. Now was quickly turning into one of the latter times, so it was especially lovely to just get on with things. (Besides, he was pretty sure that that precise configuration of prep was mostly for bad fanfiction, anyway.)

Master Rodger did seem to be taking his time, though. Dantalion wiggled mutinously, fighting for purchase against his restraints. The wedge kept him too off balance to do anything of use, however. "Please."

The Master resumed his pacifying noises, but also the stroking of Tal's cock, which at least put an end to the squirming. And, soon enough, the toy was inserted to its full length. "Sir, please," Tal huffed, kicking one of his legs down against the bed with the little range of motion he had. The not-quite-burn of the stretch inside him was tantalising, but nowhere near the spark-like bursts of pleasure that would come with active thrusting. He did have to give the Master credit, though; the 'little' reward was not nearly as small as he had implied.

"That's beautiful," Master Rodger reckoned. "Keep begging, kitten. Let me know how much you need it."

"Need it." Tal echoed, still too drunk on himself to look for new words. "Please, sir! Please-please-please." In vain he tried to grind down on the toy, and his failure brought to him a mind-clearing sort of panic. "Fuck, sir, please! Fuck me, I can't--" He cut off with a gasp as the toy was pulled out quickly and rammed home again with force. 

And it didn't stop there; the Master set a dazzling rhythm with both toy and paw which immediately had Tal arching his ravaged back. Nor did the begging stop but for the brief moment of the gasp; Dantalion resumed pleading as soon as he caught his breath, babblish and inane though it soon turned. Nor did the panic stop, for now there seemed to him something he needed more than he had needed the toy, something hidden in the glowing heat that built in his lower body.

After a few minutes, that heat coalesced into something real and attainable -- the prize was in reach -- and Tal's begging turned to hoarse moans. Then everything went silent except for the slicking sounds of the Master's ministrations, and Dantalion came white strands upon his own stomach. He held his breath for a few short seconds, then slumped, panting and sated.

Master Rodger trilled his approval in soft, sweet words, and removed the toy. Still (and his eye took on an evil gleam), he had no plan to stop stroking Tal's cock. A fact which Tal realised all too quickly, as the sensations morphed from pleasure to acute aversion. "Oh, no," he murmured.

"Oh, yes, kitten," the Master replied lightly. "Hang on tight."

"Oh, no." He was already so wrung out! What did this fucker expect from him?! "Fuck-- No, no, no, no, no!" Tal writhed, trying in earnest to escape the Master's hands, both of which were working him with a fervor. The tears were back in an instant as he thrashed about, seeking relief. He twisted his face into the side of his arm and bit deeply -- anything to distract from the shock of overstimulation.

"Color!" Master Rodger demanded.

It took about five seconds for Dantalion to wage the war on himself, to persuade himself to accept what it was he truly wanted in this moment. "Gree-hee-heen!" he then sobbed, stripped of the pretense that this was anything other than exactly what he had asked for and needed. The admission hurt nearly as much as, or perhaps more than, the electric sensation between his legs. His pride was broken as he lay keening and twisting atop the bed.

But, as all things do, it eventually ended. There was a sensory stillness in the aftermath that couldn't be stirred even by the damage to his torso; it was as if thick cotton had been shoved into the ears of his skin. He vaguely noted that the Master was speaking to him in a kind and mellow voice as he undid the restraints and massaged at the corresponding joints. What words were said, he did not perceive and likely couldn't comprehend if he did.

However, he knew that he had explained as much in their orientation. There was no harm now in drifting. He gave a casual thumbs up, turned onto his side, and curled into the fetal position -- where he stayed for nearly half an hour. Everything was so soft in this place, so fuzzy and self-contained. It couldn’t even be called a ‘happy place’, because happiness required more awareness than Tal could currently muster, or would desire to. But it was peaceful, and that was all he had truly wanted.

Eventually he did get up, though. As his sensory processing came back up to snuff, he was more inclined to move, to speak, to listen. For a while, Master Rodger held him, and they chatted about the ups and downs of the scene while drinking water. When they were both sure of Tal's steadiness, the Master helped dress his wounds, at least insofar as they really required it. Just something to keep the blood in until they healed of their own accord. Tal gave it two days. Four, max, for a couple of the nastiest ones.

When all was said and done, Dantalion returned to his office feeling like a new demon. Now he could really concentrate on work. But first he would have to order three very special gift baskets: one for Master Rodger, one for Asmodeus, and (the reason he would be ordering them himself and not delegating,) one especially nice one for Sahar.

[ramblingrachell]

Have You Read This? The Election of 2020

Like many of us, I watched Hamilton on July 4th, 2020 – our nation’s birthday. I met the day with mixed emotions as the spirit and character of our nation as of late did not seem appropriate to celebrate.

As I watched the story about many of the nation’s founding fathers and first leaders unfold, I was struck by the parts of their personal trials and tribulations that went beyond their contribution to the nation. Hamilton was the first politician to be involved in a sex scandal; Layfette – an immigrant, unafraid to step in and become America’s favorite fighting Frenchmen; Washington – a slave owner willing to admit “it probable that I may have committed many errors;” Jefferson – gained wealth profiting from the work of slaves, one of which he fathered six children with after making her his mistress. Burr – the untried murderer of Alexander Hamilton, whom he killed while still holding office as the third Vice President of the United States. In short, a hot mess of moral contradictions. I have been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack ever since my first viewing on July 4th, and realized a number of lines in various songs could be strung together to reflect my perception (key word: my) of the current political climate. Over the last week or so, I finally sat down to string all of those poignant lines together (with a few liberties for relevant context), a lyrical short story I have dubbed, The Election of 2020 (seen further down, further down). The beauty of democracy that is reborn during election seasons is our ability to get a fresh start, gain new perspectives, correct past wrongs, and continually better this land of the free for generations to come. I saw a quote recently that described voting as not so much like trying to find the perfect partner for marriage, but rather like using a bus for public transport. Voting is a map of bus routes that you must choose from in order to get from point A to point B. There may not be one specific bus that is going to your exact destination, but that doesn’t mean you stay at home and give up on travel entirely. Voting is not about waiting for “the one” candidate who is absolutely perfect. Instead, you choose to get on the bus that gets you closest to where you want to be. I know and love many republicans and democrats that have used the privilege of voting to get us all closer to where we want the nation to be. To me, where we are right now does not seem to fit under either traditional party umbrella – no, it’s much more like an umbrella that has been turned inside out and torn apart by a calculated hurricane of divisive and selfish endeavors. Perhaps more than ever before, this is the time to reassess our voting bus routes that will get us from point A to point B. Are we moving from indifference to tolerance? Hate to love? Despair to hope? Chaos to consistency? Negligence to protection? Moreover, before you get on your bus of choice, remember the route is designed to get the whole of our nation where we want it to be. Not just for me and not just for you. For all of US – as in, all of the United States. We will never all agree, I know this, but in spite of these disagreements, I am reminded of the hope that comes from the story of Hamilton. Even 244 years into this nation’s story, despite many dramatic peaks and valleys, the journey to our shared, happily ever after epilogue lives on. It lives on in me, in you, and in every vote cast to get us where we want to be. Regardless of how your vote is cast, the courage to reexamine your route and get on that bus… well, that would be enough.

The Election of 2020

“America, you great unfinished symphony A place where even orphan immigrants Can leave their fingerprints and rise up We’re running out of time Eyes up Time's up Wise up He's not the choice I would have gone with History will prove him wrong Winning was easy for him Governing's harder Welcome, folks, to a dysfunctional administration! He stands only for himself It's what he does I can't apologize because it's true Have it all, lose it all The President is gonna bring the nation to the brink He’s the villain in our history Frankly, it's a little disquieting that so many are blind to this reality He doesn’t have an ounce of regret He accumulates debt, he accumulates power Yet in our hour of need, he forgets Ardently abuses his post It's hard to listen to him with a straight face Watching the tension grow He cannot be left alone to his devices Indecisive, from crisis to crisis Stay alive 'til this horror show is past We're gonna fly a lot of flags half-mast Chaos and bloodshed already haunt us How many died because he was inexperienced and ruinous? We're too fragile to start another fight Where do we draw the line? Someone oughta remind him We're running a real nation Him and his words, obsessed with his own legacy His sentences border on senseless And he is paranoid in every paragraph How they perceive him Let future historians wonder How he tore so much apart And watched it all burn I wish I could say what was happening in his brain He's not very forthcoming on any particular stances Ask him a question: he glances off, he obfuscates, he dances I will not equivocate on my opinion I didn't say anything that wasn't true His father's a scoundrel, and so, it seems, is this dude He is uniquely situated by virtue of his position Though 'virtue' is not a word I’d apply to this situation He seeks financial gain, straying from his sacred mission And the evidence suggests he’s engaged in speculation Why does he assume he’s the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude will be his doom He knows nothing of loyalty Smells like new money, dresses like fake royalty Desperate to rise above his station Everything he does betrays the ideals of our nation See how he lies Look at his eyes Follow the scent of his enterprise If we don't stop him, we aid and abet it Watching him grabbin' at power and kissin' it Somebody has to stand up to his mouth What do we stall for?  If we stand for nothing, what'll we fall for?

Be careful with that one He will do what it takes to survive No one knows who he is or what he does His pride will be the death of us all God, we hope he’s satisfied This man has poisoned our political pursuits Destroyed our reputation I can almost see the headline, his “career” is done Ya best go run back where ya come from! This dude is out! You ever see somebody ruin their own life? History obliterates In every picture it paints It paints him and all of his mistakes It's him against us, the world will never be the same He better get ready for the moment of adrenaline Try not to crack under the stress When he finally faces his opponent They’ve fought on like seventy-five different fronts He smacks others in the press and doesn’t print retractions We're breaking down like fractions But when all is said and all is done I have beliefs, he has none Gotta get us out of the mess he’s got us in There’s a reason no one trusts him No one knows what he believes I get no satisfaction witnessing his fits of passion The way he primps and preens and dresses like the pits of fashion Our poorest citizens, our farmers, live ration to ration As Wall Street robs 'em blind in search of chips to cash in He’s askin' for someone to bring him to task While we were all watching, he got Washington in his pocket But the sun comes up And the world still spins I hear wailing in the streets There is suffering too terrible to name This is not a moment, it's a movement Are we a nation of states? What's the state of our nation? The issue on the table: We are engaged in a battle for our nation's very soul I’m past patiently waitin'. Let’s passionately smash every expectation For the first time, I’m thinkin' past tomorrow. We're gonna rise up - time to take a shot This nation better rise up Raise a glass to freedom Something they can never take away No matter what he tells us Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now But we'll never be truly free Until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me Seek out injustice in the world and correct it Life doesn't discriminate Between the sinners And the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We laugh and we cry And we break But can l be real for a second? For just a millisecond? We gotta make an all-out stand Get him out of power So he holds no office We are a powder keg about to explode We gotta stop 'em and rob 'em of his advantages Let's take a stand with the stamina God has granted us We pick and choose our battles and places to take a stand We will fight for this land Summon all the courage that’s required Be a part of the narrative The story they will write someday How we emerged victorious Leaving the battlefield waving Betsy Ross' flag higher No one has more resilience Let’s move under cover and move as one We have one shot to live another day Don’t throw away this shot We will fight up close, seize the moment and stay in it And so the American experiment begins again We bleed and fight for the next generation We'll make it right for them If we lay a strong enough foundation We'll pass it on to them, we'll give the world to them For a strong central democracy We may never all agree, but There's only one man and woman Who can give us a command so we can rise up Throwing verbal rocks at his mediocrities What do you stall for? What was it all for? We studied and we fought For the notion of a nation we now get to rebuild Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness We fought for these ideals; we shouldn't settle for less I don't pretend to know All the challenges we’re facing But this once, take a stand with pride This is not the time to stand to the side Stand with us in the land of the free To get the people that we need to lead We need the votes We need bold strokes When there’s skin in the game, stay in the game We don't get a win unless we play in the game We may get love for it We may get hate for it We get nothing if we wait for it I wanna build something that's gonna outlive me I dream of a brand new start I want real leaders that can save the day We won't be invisible We won't be denied If we get this right The nation can start to move on It outlives us when we’re gone We are the one thing in life we can control We are inimitable, true originals We can’t stand still Or lie in wait We don't wanna fight, but We won't apologize for doing what's right Together we can turn the tide If we manage to get this right They'll surrender by early light We have no control Who lives, who dies, who tells our story But I know that we can win I know that greatness lies within us But remember from here on in History has its eyes on me and History has its eyes on you”

(All Lyric Credits: Hamilton: An America Musical. Performances by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Daveed Diggs, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Jonathan Groff, Christopher Jackson, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Leslie Odom Jr., Okieriete Onaodowan, Anthony Ramos  Phillipa Soo, and Original Cast Company. Atlantic Records, 2015.)

[gamelpar]

It’s All About Fakes (100 sentence prompts fanfic)

Because I suck a writing even short stories or drabbles, I write 100 sentences prompts for the Fake AH Crew instead.

Some of them are inspired by moments in Let’s Play videos, headcanons, social media posts, or just comes straight out of the blue.

Feel free to take inspiration from the prompts or use them.

Prompts are written from a non-shippy perspective, but each prompt can be intercepted in whatever way pleases.

Also my first work, so let’s see how this goes.

Hey, why don’t you read it on AO3 instead?https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787825

1. How the Fake AH Crew got this far is a hell of story, and you can bet it’s one damn worth telling. (Fake it Til’ You Make it)

2. Ray was a sniper; he could spot bullshit a mile away, so how come he ended up in the Fake AH Crew? (On the Spot)

3. Sitting by the wheel of the red minivan Geoff sighed for the 67th time that day, still disbelieving the fact that they were not on their way to carry through a well-planned heist but rather enroute to the beach for some “splashing and slacking”, as Jack had called it. (Sunday Driving - To the Beach)

4. “The Vagabond says: it’s all gonna be murder.” (What the Vagabond Says)

5. Whether it was the Golden Boy or Gavin; Mogar or Michael; they wouldn’t leave each other behind. (Bois Forever)

6. Lindsay---being an absolute goddess as always---supports Jack in her telling for Fiona, and Jack couldn’t have been more grateful. (Women’s League)

7. Matt screws something up; Trevor is there to help him fix it; then Gavin and Alfredo is there to screw it up even more. (Nice Job Breaking It)

8. It’s Bake a Cake Day (according to Gavin) and it’s Gents vs. Lads (insisted by Gavin) and it will also be known as the day when Geoff’s kitchen met its undeniable demise (because of Gavin). (Bake a Cake Day)

9. Long story short: Michael breaks into an animal adoption center for a cat because Lindsay, and Gavin and Ray tags along because why the fuck not. (No Animal Came To Any Harm Except For Gavin)

10. A heavily tattooed man walks into a bar; later, a mad man and a lady in a Hawaii-shirt joins him. (It’s Not a Joke but the Punchline is Fluff)

11. Lindsay and Jeremy have dealt with shit going sideways longer than most people so they know how to make the best of it. (Failure is an Old Friend of Mine)

12. “I hereby announce that the official Prank Wars Week is in session!” (Oh No)

13. The Vagabond might be ready to die, but Ryan knows he’s not. (Ready as I’ll Ever Be)

14. The Lads---and Geoff---gets drunk as hell one night and starts a sock company. (Socks, There’s Socks Everywhere)

15. A boring Fake AH Crew means a dangerous Fake AH Crew and the residents of Los Santos better prepare for chaos. (Boredom Can be a Health Hazard)

16. Ryan gets hiccups and Ray thinks it’s funny until he gets hiccups, too, and soon everyone is stuck with hiccups and everyone blames Ray for some reason. (The Hiccup Disease)

17. When dawn arrives the Fake AH Crew will never be the same again. (Dawn After Battle)

18. Shopping weekends was nothing Lindsay used to do regularly, until Ryan one time decided to come along; then it became a thing. (Stuff We Do Together)

19. Even after leaving the crew, Ray would still have a home to return to. (Home is Wherever You Make it Be)

20. “No---we’re not twins, we’re not brothers, we’re not related in any way, so please for god’s sake, stop asking that.” (Stop the Questions Goddamnit)

21. Jeremy tried to apply more pressure to the wound but as the time on the bomb was running out, so did the blood. (A Mistake You Won’t Live to Learn From)

22. Someone knocks---no, pounds on the door to Ryan’s apartment at 3AM in the morning and Ryan’s still not that happy to being woken up in the middle of the night even if it is Meg waiting behind the door. (Late Night Visitor   or   Expect the Unexpected)

23. “Hey, guys, Fiona here---you’ll never believe this---but I’m stuck in jail and I need one of you to come and bail me out.” (Let’s Bail)

24. Matt is found alone sitting on top of the roof, watching the sunset, but what Geoff finds is someone who needs to talk and so he decides to be that other someone who listens. (Everyone Needs Someone Sometimes)

25. Gavin gets into trouble, which drags Michael and Jeremy into more trouble, and Geoff just wants to have a fucking drink. (Prepare for Trouble)

26. Gavin makes a statement, and Ryan feat. Alfredo makes it a hundred times worse. (Disturbance of Your Own Making)

27. Being welcomed by the sight of a bloodied and battered Gavin through the open door eliminates any tiredness and annoyance Geoff had worked up to having been woken up by a loud pounding on the door at 2AM. (Bloody Brit)

28. That was the way of the Battle Buddies; if one went down, the other had to keep on going, no matter what. (Broken Promise)

29. Nothing lasts forever, and Ray knows that better than anyone. (Never Say Forever)

30. The remaining Gents as well the rest of the Fakes would always be missing a part of themselves from now on. (Parts & Pieces   or   Next Step is to Move On)

31. The alphabet wasn’t enough to cover every brilliant plan the Fake AH Crew had in store, but they never settled for a single letter anyways. (Seven Ridiculous Plans and One That Actually Made Sense)

32. To the Lads, brighter days ahead is just an illusion they can only dream of in the aftermath of a heist gone wrong which claimed the lives of the Gents. (Miserable Lads)

33. It’s a story from being refused of coffee, to wanting to commit suicide briefly, to Trevor having made room for tea-parties with Jeremy, Gavin and Lindsay in his schedule every now and then. (Shut Up and Have Some Tea)

34. Really, it all started when Ray wouldn’t leave Geoff’s house one night. (A Place for Everyone)

35. Usually things doesn’t escalate this far by playing a simple Xbox-game but having ended up in jail, Michael and Matt doesn’t have much of a say about it and Geoff’s pissed. (Hate the Players)

36. Waking up in a dark room tied to a chair with no slightest idea of what the hell’s going on tends to lead to some anxiety-ridden experiences, especially when it is Gavin who finds himself in that situation. (Blackout)

37. No one wants to be the only sober one left to take care of a drunk crew, but with Ray gone Ryan just has to accept that this is his life now. (Trust   or   Sober One)

38. To think it all started that day when Jack saved a drunk man from being robbed in a dark alley. (Mind Your Manners)

39. Neither Lindsay or Michael would force Gavin to put on a brave face after a nightmare; everyone had fears and it was okay to be scared sometimes. (Sharing is Caring)

40. Matt’s life was just another pile of broken pieces until he met Jeremy, and suddenly he had some glue to put the pieces back together. (Glue   or   Glue My Life Back Together)

41. In the temporary apartment Ray was living in at the moment there was a vase by the kitchen window, always holding five red roses. (A Vase Full of Roses)

42. Geoff’s mood could easily be improved a 100 times better with some nice and warm socks. (Can Never Have Enough of Socks)

43. The crew quickly learned that pairing up Ryan and Trevor together would leave a traumatic amount of battered bodies and large pools of blood behind. (Madness In Me)

44. Michael’s life was like a puzzle; bits and pieces all over the place, some fitting, some not, some missing or broken, some didn’t even belong---and Jack standing there in the middle of it all being the only one who seemed to sense some kind of pattern. (Puzzles)

45. The Fake AH Crew weren’t good guys---they never would be---but that didn’t mean they were incapable of doing good, and they were by far the most decent team of criminals that had ever set foot in Los Santos. (Bad Guys Do Good)

46. Tears kept falling, slowly soaking the photo Jack held in her hand of her and the crew---not wanting to forget, yet not wanting to remember. (Remember to Forget)

47. The pink sniper rifle that hung on the wall would always serve as a reminder for the members of the Fake AH Crew that they were not immortal after all. (We Could Be Immortals)

48. Ryan’s an evil mastermind and that frightens Gavin a little, but the Golden Boy reckon it’s time to beat the Vagabond at his own game. (The Reckoning)

49. Kerry Shawcross crosses paths with the infamous Fake AH Crew completely by accident, and all hell breaks loose. (Welcome to Fake Hell)

50. The blood on his hands belonged to someone he knew---someone he cared about---and Ryan had never been more afraid of himself. (There’s Someone There But it’s Not Me)

51. It’s Pride Month and Jeremy really takes it up a notch when coloring his hair this time. (Rainbows)

52. Watching them Lindsay realized that while each of them all had lost so much, they had found even more. (Less is More)

53. Trevor would be better than Geoff ever’d been at scheduling heists and leading the crew, but he still gets to handle all the complaining from the crew so he isn’t as satisfied as he would like to be. (Point of No Return)

54. When the realization strikes him that he’s the only one left remaining, Jeremy falls to his knees in defeat and can’t stop screaming. (What Remains)

55. Fiona can never seem to stop messing with Gavin in any way possible. (A Step Too Far)

56. “Yeah, they’re all idiots---but they’re my idiots, so don’t you fucking dare lay your hand on them.” (A Bunch of Savage Animal Idiots)

57. Times have never been darker for the Gents as each of them struggles to cope with the deaths of the Lads in the aftermath of an coordinated attack. (Falling Inside the Black)

58. The day he met the Wildcard, Michael’s whole world finally started to make some sense. (Wild World)

59. Geoff’s constant drinking worried Gavin sometimes. (Drunk Concern)

60. Matt didn’t believe anyone would care enough for him to consider him family, nor did he believe he would end up in becoming a part of one. (Lost and Found)

61. Alfredo always wondered who Trevor really was underneath his iron suit of armor. (Armor)

62. Even when stuck in a seemingly never-ending coma, Geoff was never alone. (Not Alone)

63. Alfredo joins the Fake AH Crew with more blood on his hands than most people---including himself---would’ve expected. (Red Sea)

64. There’s a perfectly valid reason why Lindsay, despite not being his roommate anymore, is the only one who has a key to Ryan’s apartment. (Key to the Door)

65. Four times Jeremy and Trevor talked their way out of jail and one time they didn’t. (Another Approach to the Problem)

66. Lindsay tried, and that’s why she was still alive, even though everyone else that mattered to her weren’t anymore. (The Fake Among the True)

67. Fiona was her own knight in shining armor and no tower could ever hold her captive for long. (Green Knight)

68. There were days when Jeremy saw a way out, yet the light would always fade at the end of the tunnel, leaving him in the dark. (No Way In, No Way Out)

69. The others would never come back, and Gavin, walking in the wake of that horrifying truth, felt like an empty shell with nothing left to give. (Empty)

70. Trevor would give his life for the crew just like Geoff and Lindsay had. (Third Time Counts)

71. One time for when each of the Fake AH Crew members showed strength and one time when they didn’t. (No Shame)

72. Jack and Geoff shared a special responsibility for every member of the crew, and Michael was no exception. (Nightmare Terrors)

73. ‘Who’s the creepiest motherfucker?’ is a question rather avoided and unanswered. (Creep Contest)

74. All Michael felt now was a burning anger that refused to flicker and fade, and thirst for revenge than could never be quenched. (Road Rage)

75. The last time they all saw each other the city was burning, wounds were bleeding---figuratively and literally---and they never expected to see each other again. (One Last Time)

76. Jack liked to be up in the early, quiet mornings while everyone was still asleep, but she was seriously going to tackle Ryan into bed if she found out he was still awake at 5AM again. (Go the Fuck to Sleep)

77. He’d said he was going to visit, but Ray always pushed the promise further to its limits every time. (Liar Liar)

78. Five times a heist went to hell and one time when it actually didn’t. (Heisting Hell)

79. Not every backstory of the Fake AH Crew’s members is full of shattered dreams and points of no return. (Wanted)

80. Gavin missed home sometimes, but the Golden Boy didn’t. (Two Sides of a Coin)

81. Jeremy’s admiration of monster trucks stretches way back to when he was only a child, walking past a toy store. (Monster Car)

82. “You can leave if you want”, Geoff said, “No one’s going to stop you.” (Freedom)

83. The Vagabond was almost always in control after the Fall of the Fakes, mostly because Ryan let him. (Dead by Daylight)

84. Perhaps the next mishap won’t be so embarrassing for Alfredo, but life didn’t seem to like him much at all. (It’s Life, What Can You Do About It)

85. Four times Geoff said no to either Gavin, Ryan or Lindsay bringing an animal home, and one time he actually said yes. (Animal Addition)

86. So the members of the Fake AH Crew decides to steal their boss’ yacht again and Geoff’s as usual late to the party. (Yacht Party)

87. The crew goes to get some tattoos, and Lindsay is very sure of which one she wants to get. (Tattoos)

88. When Jack falls sick and can’t make her awesome lunch for the whole crew, the crew makes one for her instead (and Jack appreciates it even if it’s a little burned). (Faking the Chef)

89. The day Fiona joined the Fake AH Crew is a day Gavin will very well remember. (Bully)

90. The B-Team is usually there to clean up the messes, except for this time. (Don’t Leave Your Messes Here)

91. The whiskey burned his throat when he guzzled it, and Geoff wished that the liquor could burn away the pain and memories the same. (Burning Bridges)

92. The Fake AH Crew may look like they’re having the time of their lives, but the outside is designed to hide the struggles and issues that lingers underneath. (Inside Out)

93. With the Gents missing, the Lads stuck in a burning building, and the B-team cornered in a firefight, things does not look good. (Already Over)

94. The Fake AH Crew never failed to be impressed by Michael’s colorful vocabulary of swear words. (Words of Color)

95. Jeremy tries to cover up some traces of his past life from the rest of the crew; it does not go the way he wants. (Known to the World)

96. The Ring had been like home, but he wasn’t earning any money being beaten up every round in familiar surroundings, so Michael left---and ended up in Los Santos. (Ring of Fire)

97. The different paths that every member of the crew took for themselves led each of them to end up somewhere they never intended to be, but somewhere they were meant to be. (Pathfinders)

98. It was safe to say that every member of the Fake AH Crew had at least one weird obsession; some had way too many, and some obsessions were just what the fuck. (Obsessions)

99. The Fake AH Crew heists in style, or they do not heist at all. (Do it with Style)

100. The Fake AH Crew is made up of a selected (un)worthy and unique individuals---each one with their own story of whens, ifs, whats, whos, and hows. (Now That We’ve Come So Far)