#and i'm not irish and don't have an ear for accents so it doesn't really bother me personally

[potterandpromises]

The two reactions to the character of Glen Stubbins:

Glen Stubbins is actually Ben Glenroy. He secretly switched places with his stunt double before the double got pushed down the elevator shaft and the rat hallucinations are from his near death experience.

Glen Stubbins is an offensive stereotype and I want him off my screen.

[enigmatist17]

Spin the Bottle where Angel doesn't quite remember everything until they call for Spike's help

---

"Liam?"

"Yes darlin'?" Looking up from his book, Liam sees the small girl Freddie standing at the entrance of his room, hands clasped behind her back. She's always smiling this one, bouncing a little in place as he sets the book aside.

"Your friend we told you about is here!"

Liam scoffs.

"You've got ta be lyin' about me bein' friends with an Englishman." He still can't believe any of their claims otherwise but gets to his feet with a shrug.

"We're not, I promise." The wee thing is smiling again, taking Liam's hand with a hum and leading him through the hotel. He has been mostly holed up in his room, having learned with a nasty burn that his freakish form didn't tolerate the sun, something he had dealt with by drinking lots of ale. He didn't understand why everyone knew each other when he was still in the figurative dark, the horned one talking about vampires and family or other such madness, but they had been kinder to him since their memories had been restored.

"So, I've never met him, but I've heard he's really nice!" The wee one had been talking despite Liam spacing out, and he just shrugged as they finally exited the staircase to the ground level.

The elevator still needed repairs after Liam had a panic attack.

"Never heard of such a thin'." He grumbles, the two finally entering the main reception area. Cordelia and Gunn were chatting with some blonde stranger, Liam tilting his head at the unnatural color.

"So, the Great Forehead graces us eh?" The stranger grins when Freddie lets go of Liam's hand, remaining by his side with a little bounce.

"....English pig."

"Excuse me?" The stranger blinks as Liam crosses his arms, scowling while the other double-takes. "I 'ear you right luv?"

"You did." The strong Irish accent had made the stranger take a full step backward, and Liam took a bit of pride in that. "Goin' to run like the coward ye are?"

"Coward?" The blonde stares at him like a lunatic, and suddenly, his face shifts into one of a beast, a monster.

One just like himself?

"Well, somethin' remembers under that thick brain of yours."

"Come say that to my fist."

"Aw, did I hurt baby Angel's feelings?"

"Spike..." Cordelia's voice is a warning as she and Gunn quickly step back, Spike dropping his duster on the couch beside him as he grins.

"I know what I'm doin' pet, trust the process." Liam doesn't like the nickname, his face shifting without his registering, and this Spike smirks to himself.

"She yours? Don't seem like a big man to -"

Spike grunts as the bigger vampire collides with him, the two being flung out double glass doors behind Spike into a small courtyard. Despite being stuck in the mind of his pre-vampire self, Angel remembers enough to start punching and clawing, face contorted as the older snarls at him. He can't remember the last time the two had fought like this, the humans inside having enough foresight to clear the lobby as their fighting eventually rounded back inside, and Spike was absolutely loving the thrill.

Can't have Angel loose on the streets in his condition, however, no matter how funny it would be.

He doesn't pretend to understand why his blood is going to supposedly fix Angel's mind, but Spike hopes it's soon when he's eventually pinned into a corner on the fourth floor, having gotten turned around in the unfamiliar building.

That's what he gets for holding back, or so he says to himself.

"Let's see if I can kill an already dead Englishman," Angel growls, grabbing a broken leg from a table that had met its demise and positioning the splintered wood above his heart.

"Sorry puddin'." Lorne jabs a needle into Angel's neck faster than Spike can register, and he uses the momentary distraction to push the wood away before he can be dusted. Quickly scrambling to his feet, Spike and the others watched as Angel clutched his head with a low hiss, face shifting back to its human form when his pain seemed to pass.

"Liam?" Cordelia slowly approaches him, and when Liam looks up, he's both annoyed and suspicious.

"How did you know that name?" Brown eyes go wide when he registers his accent, looking around to see most of the crew surrounding him...with Spike? "What?"

"Seems we've got Angelcakes back!" Lorne grinned, a hand outstretched. "Good to see ya!"

"I was away?" The vampire accepted the help, feeling a little woozy once he was fully upright. "Oh, the spell?"

"It'll come back to you, but it turns out vampires needed a little more help than I could scrounge myself, hence Spike here." The green demon waved the emptied needle in his hand a little, the blonde vampire smirking a bit from behind Lorne. "Speaking of, I owe you drinks!"

"Bloody right you do." Spike sniffed, regarding his grandsire with a shrug. "Gotta get paid for savin' the big poof."

"Not really saving...but thanks." Angel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. "I didn't, uh, say anything offensive, right?"

The silence is almost deafening, and Angel covers his face in his hands as Spike cackles.

[navybluetriangles]

🖊️, 🍕 , 🌍, 🐷, 😴, ✈️, 📱

🖊️ - Do you have/want any tattoos?

I find this very difficult. I am absolutely awful at making decisions, and I'm very much afraid of doing things that are irreversible. It took me 3 years to finally get my ears pierced, which is silly because they can heal. I don't think I'd suit tattoos either, and I'm not sure I've ever seen anything I'd like so much I'd want it permanently on me.

I think tattoos are really cool, but I have no idea how I'd actually feel about one on myself and that's scary. I used to consider getting a diabetes tattoo to replace an ID bracelet but I think most of them look pretty bad. 😅

🍕 - What's the last thing you ate?

Hehe. Cadbury's Dairy Milk ice cream. It has a chocolate centre and chunk of chocolate in it. 🤤

🌍 - What is your favourite accent?

Hmm, not sure I have one. Irish is always good. I always find Northern English accents very soothing, reminds me of home. Nothing too strong though.

🐷 - Whats your favourite animal?

I struggle with favourites. I should probably say cats. But I have a soft spot for little garden birds, probably sparrows. They are so tiny and cute, and most people might think they're boring, but they are delightful and tiny and fragile and just so cute. And it doesn't bother them that they have tiny little legs and short lives, they will hop around and chirp just the same. 🥺

😴 - What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

Hmm, probably in uni. Pulled an all-nighter followed by 8 hours of lectures. Might have had a nap though. Or might have been coming home from Nova Scotia during the start of the pandemic. Had to come the long way home and I was travelling for at least 24 hours, + the rest of the journey like getting to and from the airports.

✈️ - If travelling was free, where's the first place you'd go?

Normally I'd say back to Canada, but right now I want to go somewhere else. Maybe Italy, or Spain. Somewhere with a warm coastline that I don't know.

📱 - Favourite app on your phone?

Probably Tumblr. 😁 Closely followed by WhatsApp, that's where all my friends live.

[moon-touched-vn]

funny quotes compilation

---

Creoda: "I am Creoda, son of Cerdic." Arthur: "Cracking. I'm Damns To Give, son of Out Of." ---

"I couldn't help but note the blade's small, unimpressive make." Arthur: "You're going to carve me with a woman's knife?" Arthur: "Surely the king's castration calls for an ax."

---

Bedwyr: "You think [Gwenhwyfar is] learning anything in the convent?" Arthur: "Frankly, I've always been under the impression the queen was born knowing everything." Arthur: "Certainly acts it, she does."

---

Creoda: "You have that horrible accent." Creoda: "Phlegm everywhere." Creoda: "It's disgusting." Arthur: "May I refer you to the wisdom of the bards?" Arthur: "He whose tongue sounds like gargled piss ought not cast aspersions." Arthur: "Nor spit in the wind." --- Morgan: "Good morning, executioner!" Morgan: "Did demons torment your dreams?" Arthur: "Bore da, Morgan."

---

"Casting [Creoda] a hard glance over my shoulder, he declared:" Bedwyr: "I crave Sais blood, Lord." "Then, as he looked at me, his voice dropped to a whisper." Bedwyr: "Let me out, fucksakes. I've got to take a heinous piss."

---

Arthur: "Creoda really is rubbing off on you in all the wrong ways." Morgan: "I don't want to be lectured by one with the manners of a dog in a mead hall." Arthur: "Step up from a wolf in a chicken pen." Morgan: "Are you certain you are a king? Because all I hear from you is jest." Arthur: "Good ones manage both."

---

Cynric: "La, Creoda, what do I keep you around for, decoration?" Cynric: "You see a pair of pretty birds and your brain flies off with them."

---

Morgan: "You've an entire weir to receive your business, but you choose to water my leeks!" Creoda: "Woman, my bladder does not hold witan when it is full of ale."

---

Creoda: "How many times did you request Wulf and Eadwacer?" Cynric: "Enough to put the hollering to bed." Creoda: "La, Cynric, why chase the sword when you're a born peace-weaver?" Cynric: "Aw, what're you pissing and moaning for? You weren't there to hear it."

--- Servant: "The yellow-haired one sits, and partakes neither of food nor drink." Morgan: "They're all yellow-haired, Yetunde."

---

Bedwyr: "Prefer if my counsel was taken into bloody consideration once in a while." Bedwyr: "[testily] Lord." Arthur: "How about this?" Arthur: "Say 'Lord' in that tone again and the Saisman's sword goes so far up your arse, you'll flap like a ffycin war banner every time you fart."

---

Creoda: "Your Gewisse is atrocious." Arthur: "You should hear my Irish. Sounds like a Scotsman stuffed a fistful of acorns in his mouth."

---

Iddawg: "Shouldn't you keep an eye on [Arthur]?" Creoda: "I have just one pair." Creoda: "You watch him." Iddawg: "What if he runs?" Creoda: "He won't." Iddawg: "But what if he tries?" Creoda: "Kill him." "Iddawg gave his blunted shovel a despairing glance." Iddawg: "What if he kills me?" Creoda: "So long."

---

Arthur: "I thought you Saeson were great shepherds." Morgan: "No more than you wealh are fantastic cattle thieves." Arthur: "Think me an Irish king, do you?"

---

Bedwyr: "They say if you press your ear to the dirt on Bedwin's grave, you can still hear his gripes waft through." Arthur: "No wonder nothing grows there. Scared the worms away, he did."

---

Creoda: "Death doesn't stop the work." Creoda: "It just passes the work onto another man." Arthur: "Besides, you've such a stick up your arse, you wouldn't rest knowing we were doing it wrong." Creoda: "We burn our dead." Arthur: "Ah." Arthur: "Stick's for kindling."

---

Arthur: "Beli knows I've had to sit and entertain the most insufferable kiss-arses while praying they would choke on a fish bone."

---

Creoda: "Come down." Creoda: "No reason to squat in the trees."

Arthur: "Can't you leave me alone? I'm trying to take a proper dump, but all your gawking makes it hard to hatch."

Morgan: "What a mighty warrior you are when you have neither man nor horse to back your orders." Morgan: "All you can do is preen your feathers."

Arthur: "Pity when a man can't build his roost in peace, that it is." Arthur: "Alas, whatever is the constipated merlin to do?"

--- Creoda: "Morgan said she heard hens clucking."

Arthur: "Do you mind? Bedwyr and I are trying to hatch eggs."

---

Arthur: "Aye, but now Lord Peplum has hurled a wine jar at Lord Brocade's head, because he's just received word that Lord Brocade's nephew made off with his fattest cattle and is sleeping off a drunken stupor in his fields." Morgan: "Sounds like my kind of party."

---

Morgan: "Good evening, man-smiter." Morgan: "Did a cloud of mosquitoes feast on your succulent blood?" Arthur: "Not now." Morgan: "Keep up the attitude and your liver will burst with bile." Arthur: "I don't think I much like this Hippocrates fellow of yours." Arthur: "Or his rubbish ideas."

[m-the-funky-chicken]

German here!

So, I had the fortunate circumstances of watching a version with subtitles which. yknow. HUGELY helps me, especially because with audio processing issues (which I very much have. youch).

I want to say that I have the advantage of having started my English learning/speaking process almost fifteen years ago, as a child, and now conducting 99,9% of my media intake in English, as well a doing a BA in English Studies - but!

I am shit with accents. oh am I shit with them. I can't even differentiate between German accents and dialects - hell, my regional dialect might be very distinctive to me, but would I recognise that somebody was from there if they didn't tell me? probably not lol. and English doesn't make it easier for me, because I am just missing all of these nuances, the inherent knowledge that only growing up as a native speaker might bring; I might have encountered a thousand different English accents - even broader distinctions like American vs Australian vs NZ vs England sometimes pose problems. I lived in Ireland for a few months and have an Irish lecturer, and I still sometimes mix up Irish and Scottish accents at first. why? stupid brain disease, I guess. "ah yes we know this one. it's uuuuh fucking uhhhh I'm not wearing my glasses, what's the first one I can grab out of the dark murk-"

now, how does that translate to the terror?

tbh, starting to think about who has which accent already messes up my mind. Crozier is Irish, but I find his accent to be quite subtle on the consonants, more so than I expected, and only really distinguishable in vowel sounds; but then again, I have experiences with Munster accents above all, and that's definitely not his region. at all.

the translator who's with JCR - Scottish? I think he's Scottish. very satisfying to listen to, sad that we only had this one scene with him, really. I think it kind of startles me to hear him, though, because the rest of the men is more or less lumped together as "somehow English" in my mind. this might range from "super posh sounding" (Franklin) to "potentially more working class upbringing?" (Tozer), but ask me the difference between Jopson and Irving and Little and Hickey and Stanley and-- and I might cry.

the only other person apart from those mentioned who stands out to me accent wise is Blanky. couldn't tell you where he's from or what accent that is. maybe more northern? who knows! not me.

now, do I understand any of the accents less than the others? not at all! I'm used to a lot of mumbling and American swallowing of syllables making it super hard to know wtf is going on, but I think that they speak quite crispy, enunciate clearly, and the sound design isn't *CRASH BOOM FUCK YOUR EARS shhhh I'm saying something now* which helps immensely.

it might be my inability to properly discern these nuances, but I feel like there isn't that much variation in accents in the show, even though characters had very different origins. Irving was Scottish, wasn't he? I don't think the actor does a Scottish accent (correct me if I'm wrong) and I think I remember reading that a lot of the crew was from Northern England - those are some pretty distinct accents most of the time, and I don't think that was really used? I would have loved to see more differences here. both in regional origins but also class origins.

concerning the actors themselves - I haven't watched a crazy amount of interviews or other work of the actors, so I can't really say much about differences, but I remember being surprised by Trystan Gravelle (pls let that be the way you spell that name) being Welsh?? tbf I am shit with Welsh accents because I didn't hear a lot of them over the years and only recently have begun being able to identify them. but I feel like Trystan has a distinct accent, which Collins doesn't have at all. to my ears he sounds vaguely English, like the rest of em. Just a funny disconnect in my mind.

I've been thinking about Terror character/actor accents and origins again today and I'd love to hear some non-British/otherwise outside perspectives on the subject at some point - might even attempt to make a poll about it.

I'm just curious!

Do you find the different accents in the show difficult to understand at any point? Are some more challenging than others? Do you think having more context on different character accents and origins would change anything about your understanding/interpretations of the show and the relationships within it?

[teabights]

Undress You With My Eyes, I'm Ready To Go.

Summary: Joe gets needy at a work event.

Pairing: Joe Keery x Reader

AN: uh whoops I accidentally wrote Joe Keery smut but like sub!joe keery sorry. Also 18+ MINORS DNI

P.S. this is the first ive written smut in a really long time so please be nice. If you dont like it, dont interact with it.

WC: 2228

Joe kisses your shoulder as his arm sits around your waist. You have a cup of whatever alcohol you managed to get a hold of. You keep your attention on the conversation that you are having with David. David is talking about your schoolwork.

"Yeah, I graduate in May. I defended my dissertation last month." You say.

"So, you'll be Dr. Y/L/N?" David asks.

"Yes sir." You say with a smile.

"Well, congratulations kid. That's really awesome." David says then takes a sip of his drink.

"I will definitely have to send out graduation invites." You say.

"Babe…" Joe comments.

"I will leave you two kids alone, still congrats!" David smiles wide, walking off from you two.

"Yes Joe?" You ask as you look at your man.

"I love you." He whispers as he finishes off his fourth drink.

"I love you." You say, finishing your second drink of the night. "Can you get me something with jaeger in it?"

"Yes momma." He whispers as he leaves your side.

You chuckle as you look over the room. Your eyes on the other Joe chatting with Grace, looking awfully flirty. Your Joe enters your view. You smile as you take the drink he hands you.

"Thanks baby." You say as you take a sip. Mostly jaeger and a little coke.

"Can we go after this?" Joe almost begs.

"And why's that?" You raise an eyebrow as you look at him.

"Undress you with my eyes, I'm ready to go." He mumbles.

"It's your work event." You say.

"Its just… I need you, momma." He whispers, his cheeks heating up.

"Well, pretty boy, I wanna have one more drink. Then you can have Momma." You say.

"Keery." Charlie says as he approaches you two.

"Hey Charlie." Joe says, pulling the man into a side hug.

"How have you been? I feel like you fall off the face of the planet when we don't film." Charlie says with a smile.

"Yeah, someone…" he motions to you. "Keeps me busy. And Djo keeps me busy."

"Fair enough. And Y/N you need to post him more. I miss his face." Charlie says with a chuckle.

"Oh, I know you miss your boyfriend." You tease.

"He's my first love." Charlie says with a joke.

"I'll always be your first." Joe says with a chuckle.

Charlie and Joe spoke for another handful of minutes, enough for you to finish your drink. You see in Joe's cup that it was half gone. You excuse yourself from the pair to go up to the bar.

"Jaegar bomb please." You ask.

"A jaeger bomb? Looking to get messed up real quick?" A familiar British accent fills your ears. You turn to see Jamie standing there.

"Hey Jay!" You pull him into a quick hug.

"I feel like you've been at Keery's hip all night and I haven't gotten to see you!" Jamie whines as he hugs you back.

"Ah, I can't help it. He's great to be around." You say as you watch your drink get put down and you pick it up.

"He really is. How is everything going with him?" Jamie asks.

"Good. Really good. It'll be three years in June." You nod your head.

"Do you think he might propose?" He asks.

"Uh, probably not… why who told you that he was?" You ask. "Was it Maya?"

"No one told me anything. I assume after being with someone for three years, you two are ready to take that step." Jamie says.

"Yeah, I think we are ready, but I am happy with where we are at." You respond.

"Speak of." Jamie says as you both see Joe walk to you.

"I don't feel good." Joe whispers as he takes your hand.

"I'll chat with you later Jamie. Someone says he doesn't feel good." You motion to Joe with your head.

"Get him home and drink some water." Jamie says.

You and Joe say bye. Joe and you walk away, stopping for a moment as you look around the party. Joe is behind you, his full presses against your ass.

"Irish goodbye." You whisper.

"Please momma." He says.

You two slip out of the bar. There are a few seconds of being outside that you didn't realize how the alcohol affected you. You pin him against the cold brick of the building, trapping him in a kiss. Your knee lands between his legs. He pathetically rubs his crotch on your thigh.

"Ah, pathetic." You mumble against his lips.

"Momma, I need you so bad." He whispers.

"Let me order us an Uber and then you can have me." You say as you pull your phone from your pocket.

You immediately open uber and put in the hotel address. You get the uber ordered. Following Joe around for this press run had been your favorite thing this season, mostly because you were able to. You look at Joe, his eyes start to water up.

"You're a horny little drunk baby huh?" You look at him.

"So needy momma." He knows better than to touch you, even though all he wants is to slide his cock into you.

“You’re lucky none of your friends notice you being so submissive for me.” You mumble.

“Well, Momma shouldn’t look so pretty.” He utters in response.

Your eyes roll as you move your knee from between his legs, which makes him whine. You lean over to kiss him, which lasts about ten seconds. You see a car pull up. You take his hand and walk to the car. Verifying that it is for you, you two climb in the back. You keep your hand on his thigh the entire ride. His eyes watch the scenery pass. As the driver stops at the hotel, you thank them and get out. You two walk into the lobby and walk to the stairs because you are scared of elevators. Joe and you somehow make it up the two flights of stairs to get to the third floor. You grab his hand as you two walk to your door. Joe opens the door and you walk in, pulling him in. The door slams closed as you use Joe’s body to close it after you start to kiss him again. Your hands were quick to start working his belt and the button and zipper of his slacks. His hands rest on your waist, knowing he isn’t allowed to be handsy with you, especially when you are wearing your nicer clothes. Your hand slides into the band of his boxers to grab ahold of his cock, which earns a moan from him that radiates into your mouth. He breaks the kiss.

“Please…” He whines.

“Please what?” You mocked his ‘please.’ “Be a good boy and use your words.”

“Please fuck me momma. Please…” He begs.

“It’s never that easy, is it Joey?” You tease.

“No momma.” He whines.

“Now, go get undressed. Lay out those clothes neatly. This is a really nice suit.” You say.

“But… I like it when you undress me.” He says quietly, his hands grabbing at your stockings.

“Too bad.” You smack his hand away. “I am not letting you put a run in my stocking. Do what you are told.”

Joe just nods his head and walks over to the little closet that all hotels have. You watch him undress. He hangs up his jacket and his button up. You look over his chest, nothing but a few curls that were peeking out of his undershirt. You take a moment to walk over to him, holding your hair up. He pulls down the zipper on your dress. You walk away from him to let him continue. You pull off your dress, only being in your matching bra and panty set. You look over and he is neatly folding up his pants to hang up on a pant hanger. You pick up your dress from the floor. You walk to him and hand it to him.

“Hang this up for momma, please.” You ask.

“Yes momma.” He takes the dress, pulling the zipper up and sliding it onto a hanger.

You sit down on the little bench in front of the bed, undoing your heels. You take a moment to shimmy out of the tights, which you leave next to your shoes. You can feel Joe’s eyes burn a hole into your skin.

“You are still dressed. I am not fucking you with socks on.” You say, not even looking at him.

You see in your peripheral that he starts to take off his socks, his undershirt, and his boxers, leaving them in a neat little pile. He walks to you. You glance at him. You motion for him to get on your knees, which he drops to his knees in front of you. Your legs spread open. He immediately starts to kiss your left thigh. You can see that his hard cock has turned a cute dark shade of pink. His cock sits promptly against his stomach. His lips trails to your right thigh.

“Momma, can I eat?” His words pull you from looking at his cock.

“Very good asking, yes pretty boy.” Your hand occupies his hair as you assist him in pulling off your panty.

Joe takes in the sight of your pussy. The slight gleam from the little arousal you feel. You watch him before he digs in. His tongue licks up stripes of your wetness. He dips his tongue into you, his hand moving to rub your clit, which earns the beautiful soundtrack he loves so much. You only pull on his hair as filth spills from your mouth.

“Fuck fuck fuck… Ah Joey.”

After Joe works a couple more minutes, your stomach tightens and your walls tighten. You release with your first orgasm of the night. You pant hard, watching him clean up the mess he made with his mouth. You push him away from you and close your legs.

“On the bed, now. Momma needs your cock.” You simply state.

You watch him scramble to his feet and lay himself on the bed. You move from your spot, to be straddling him. You slide your wet pussy against his erection and he whines at you. You chuckle a little bit.

“You still have to beg.” You say.

“Please momma. Please. Please. Please ride my cock, please.” He begs in between whines as you keep sliding your wet pussy on his hard cock.

“No.” You simply say.

“Please. Momma. I’ve been a good boy all night. I didn’t slip up in front of my friends. I am a good boy, please.” He begs, eyes watering up.

“Oh you want me to ride you so bad that you are crying? Oh what a pathetic baby.” You spit.

“Momma… Momma please.” He begs, a few tears run down his cheeks.

“Momma Momma please.” You mock. “Use your big boy words.”

“Momma, please ride my cock. I wanna feel your pussy around my cock. Please momma.” He begs one last time.

You grip his cock and let it slide into you, which he earns a moan from you. You start to move yourself up and down on his cock, moaning.

“Fuck you feel so good baby. You fill me up so well.” You say between a set of moans.

He grabs on to your waist. You two sounds fill up the hotel room. You keep sliding on his cock, moving your hands to undo your bra and tossing it somewhere else, usually you are so particular about where clothes go during sex. You lean down to catch his lips in a kiss. Your hands hold you up as you are in a slightly new position. You fuck yourself on his cock, hitting that familiar spot over and over and over again, which makes you break the kiss and moan in an almost screaming tone. Your walls clench down on his cock with each thrust. His lips part as he moans along with you.

“Fuck momma, so close.” He whines.

“Momma first.” You say, knowing you aren’t going to last much longer.

“Momma…” He whines loudly.

“Hold it.” You demand.

You keep riding his cock and letting profanities leave your throat. The familiar tightness starts and you are gone. You ride him through your orgasm. Your walls clenching around him makes his whine loudly as he starts to fill you up. You keep yourself going to get every last drop from him.

“Good job baby.” You say with a pant. You move a hand to push his hair out of his face, taking a moment to move the sweat drenched pieces off his forehead.

“Fuck, it’s been a while since…” He mutters, words escaping his brain. His eyes land on you. “Is that new?” He points to a small ‘JK’ in dainty font on your shoulder.

“Yeah… I got it last month.” You say.

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you.” You say.

You two share a kiss. You quickly move from him to get off the bed, feeling a bit of the release run down your inner thigh, which makes your nose scrunch up.

“I could have worn a condom.” Joe says as he chuckles at your face.

“No, I like it raw. I just hate cleaning up.” You mumble as you go to the bathroom.

[youknowwhatted]

Vice

Thomas Shelby is expanding his company to America, Miami to be specific. He's already taken out who he thought was the biggest player. Little did he know, it's you who runs the South and you're looking for a new partner.

Pairings: Thomas Shelby x reader, Brock Rumlow x reader (past), Bucky Barnes x reader (past), Thor Odinson x reader(past)

Warnings: mentions of death, cannon level violence, swearing, angst, smut. Lmk if I missed anything.

Tommy slams you against the wall in his office, his hand around you neck as the picture beside you is left slightly askew.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" He questions, his face a mere inch from yours.

"I said," you lifted your half lidded eyes, fuck if this wasn't turning you on just a bit, "You killed the wrong man. Brock was my husband, not the head of the family. I'm the one who runs the South," You smirked. His hand around your throat tightening slightly.

"So why shouldn't I just kill you now, eh?" Tommy asked, his head tilting to the side a little, "why come here and show your hand?"

You smile, "business" you say simply, "and if you'd remove your hand I could elaborate."

He let go of your neck and backed off, grabbing two tumblers and a bottle of Irish whiskey off the table next to you.

You pulled yourself off the wall and went to sit in the plush gray chair in front of his desk, smoothing a hand down your crisp white pants while he poured the drinks. Your hair in a sleek ponytail, gold hoop earrings brushing the white blazer draped over your shoulders as you took the glass he offered.

"So," he began, sitting down behind his desk, "elaborate," his accent rolling off his tongue like silk as he waved a hand.

"I really should thank you, for taking Brock out."

"I thought he was your husband?"

"A marriage of convenience. He wanted my father's territory and I needed a figurehead." You smirked before taking a drink.

"Still doesn't explain why you're in my office"

"You've stepped on quite a few toes Mr. Shelby. Barely been here a week, and already trying to start a war?"

"No," he shook his head, pursing his lips, "I'm just trying to run a business, love" he raised a brow at you and leaned back in his chair.

"These other families, they're a bit old school and you have successfully pissed them all off," you wet your lips, "I have a rapport with them and could help you with Barnes and Wilson at the docks and Odinson with distribution."

"And why would you do that?"

"Brock was the head of the Dixie Mafia, which I now control, plus the territory I inherited from my father. It's only a matter of time before the other families try to force my hand. I need another convenience. You want to expand. I want to keep what's mine." You finished, never breaking eye contact with his orbs of ocean blue.

Tommy pulled a cigarette out of the box on his desk and lit it before offering you one. You shook your head, pulling out your vape and hit it, the sweet smelling cloud hung in the air between you two.

"And why should I do that, hmm?" Tommy asked, exhaling the smoke.

You lean forward, "because if you don't, your shipments can't dock, and what you do have now you won't be able to move. You'll have to go back to England with your tail between you legs, back to Birmingham, back to Watery Lane. I do my research too, Mr. Shelby." You finished, lifting a brow at him.

Thomas took another pull from his cigarette as you stood up.

"Join me for dinner. Tomorrow night, my restaurant, six sharp," you said as you began to walk to the door, "and we can discuss this arrangement further," you pulled the frosted glass door open and walked out not giving him a chance to respond.

Arthur and John were standing by Lizzie's desk and you shot them a wink as you walked past in your sequence Jimmy Choo's. You hadn't formally met your future brother-in-law's yet but you knew all about them.

"Who the hell was that, Tom?" Arthur asked as he stared at you making your way to the elevator as Tommy walked out of his office.

"A problem," Tommy answered.

"Never thought a problem could look that good," John quipped.

"Me neither"

A/N: likes and rb's appreciated

[blissfulbqrnes]

We Were Both Young

summary; the drink server with the nice smile and pretty eyes catches your attention when he definitely shouldn't

warnings; swearing, love at first sight type thing, readers annoying sister interrupting shit, a cameo from all the one direction boys, nothing really just yet

word count; 1k

note; this is a series I've been wanting to publish for quite some time, it's heavily inspired by love story by Taylor swift (one of my favorite songs ever). like romeo and juliet with a much happier ending. please send feedback rather it be through asks or reblogs, constructive criticism is always welcome. one-shot requests are open but be sure to check out my boundaries on my navigation before.

series masterlistadd yourself to the taglist

You breathed in through your nose, the warm summer air sending a bit of relief throughout your body. Being outside was much better than sitting inside being bombarded with drink offers, hugs from people you haven't seen in fifteen years, or the smells of overly expensive cologne and perfume.

The bright lights from the large chandeliers were bright in contrast to the gorgeous star-filled night sky. Father made you dance with multiple suitors tonight, a few of them stepped on your dress or on your feet. The only reason you couldn't rule on your own with no husband, was because you're a woman, and they believe you aren't fit to rule your people.

Truth be told, you could do a better job than all the sorry old men who you knew as your great grandfathers, maybe the discrimination towards women would end if you could change the ways of the people. Keyword, if. Your father simply wouldn't have that.

Before you were caught, you slipped back into the party, but it was just quarter til' eleven, and everyone leaves at twelve. An entire hour left of dancing with dreadfully arrogant pricks who were all thinking they could somehow swoon you and take the thrown from your father.

A tap on your shoulder pulled your gaze from the dancing people in front of you. You whipped around locking eyes with a set of green ones who happened to belong to one of the most gorgeous men you had ever had the luck of seeing. Shoulder-length brown curls that looked soft to the touch, pretty pink lips you could imagine kissing all day long, a cute nose you could press a peck to if you weren't in a full ballroom where you're supposed to be finding a lover.

"Would ya like a drink, princess?" his slow accented voice made it hard for you not to pass out, and the way princess rolled off his tongue was like an eargasm, of course, everyone called you that but the way this man says it is unearthly.

You seemed to be lost in a trance, because the only thing you heard was his chuckles at your flushed mannerisms, "Oh, pardon?" you stumbled on your words a bit, breaking eye contact with him momentarily.

"You must be overwhelmed, do you want a drink?" He tried again, but he didn't ask until he was sure you were paying complete attention to him.

"OH! No thank you." Your voice was louder than you intended and the stranger jumped a little at the volume, "sorry.." You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck. Great job, now you've fucked it.

"No love, you didn't fuck it. Whatever it is. M' Harry by the way." He was smiled now, showing off a far too perfect, pearly smile.

"Harry, mate. You won't believe what this blond babe said to me-" A blond man, you've never seen before froze mid-sentence, dropping on one knee, "I'm so sorry, princess. Please don't fire me! I need this job to pay school debt" You stifled a laugh at his pleading, though his apology wasn't really needed, he was simply trying to chat with his friend about a lady who was probably wonderful.

"Niall, get off the damn floor will ye? She doesn't want your sorry Irish arse!" Another accented voice scolding flicking the blond's ear, two more brunettes followed, "Hi, I'm Louis Tomlinson, these are my mates, Harry, Niall, Zayn, and Liam." He pointed at each of the boys, all (minus harry) of which who waved with similar nervous smiles.

“I have no say in that, he does though,” you pointed in the direction of your suit-clad father. "it is a pleasure to meet you all." you smiled genuinely for the second time tonight.

"The pleasure is all ours." Liam countered, a charming, yet bashful smile on his stubbled face. Zayn and Niall nodded at his comment, they all clearly were interested in pay raise of some sort with how they were treating you.

"YN! Why are you conversing with the help?!" Your slightly younger sister, Annaliese whisper shouted, tugging at your glove-covered arm in the direction of the bustling party, "Mother has been searching for you all over." She tutted pulling you away from the boys, but more specifically Harry.

Hopelessly, you looked back, eyes catching the sorry looks on all the other boys' faces, locking eyes with Harry again almost cinematically, he looked like a sick puppy, but unfortunately, you couldn't do anything about it.

Louis clapped Harry on the shoulder, "you should've definitely swooped on that one, mate." He mumbled pinching Harry's reddening cheeks. "She's here to find a suitor t' night, y' know?" Zayn informed, looping his arm over Liam's shoulder.

Harry slapped his hands away, punching Louis in the side, and flicking Niall's forehead, "I would've if this dense bastard was paying attention to the person I was talking to, but this "blonde babe" story couldn't wait five more minutes. Really Zayn? It's almost like that was on the flier in town."

Niall grunted out an apology and something about going to get another plate of drinks to serve, Liam and Zayn following swiftly behind him.

"You like her already, H? You 'aven't lashed out about a girl like that since Kendall," Louis murmured, searching his best friend's face for if he was truly right. Though Louis wouldn't need a rocket scientist to figure out how he was feeling, the boys have all known each other since they were twelve and there weren't secrets between them.

At first, Harry didn't know what to say so he nodded, but after a few moments of silence between him and Louis, he began to explain "She got so nervous talkin' to me. The princess got nervous talking me!"

Harry’s brain was swarming with thoughts of you, the beautiful dress you were wearing, your pretty eyes, lips that are perfectly full and plump, the way you got anxious speaking to him, and just everything that made you, you.

tags; @kissmyaxe140 @kennedywxlsh @harryguapito @avocado24

[little-luna-143]

Prompt: Does He Know Pt: 1

"Does he know you can move it like that?

Does he know you're out and I want you so bad

Tonight you're mine, baby

Does he know that you'll never go back?"

You were dating a new guy and things were going well until they weren't. No matter what you tried to do he would just tell you that it was all your fault or that you were in the way. One night he came to you saying that you needed to look amazing because he was bringing you to a red-carpet event, he wouldn't tell you who would be there just kept rushing you to pretty yourself up. After getting ready (With him complaining about how long you took) you were ready, fresh makeup, beach waved hair and a beautiful black sequenced gown. (That you never wore before) When you arrived you quietly asked him not to leave you alone since you didn't personally know anyone there and he just gave you this look telling you to "Grow up" and walked away. Half the night you stayed off to the side trying to stay away from the cameras. But you started getting really hungry, so you slowly made your way over to the tables of food and just as you were going to grab a plate, you accidentally touched hands with someone. Looking up you find out that it was the one and only Niall Horan "Sorry" you tell him blushing "It's okay... Ladies first" Niall said gesturing for you to grab a plate "Thank you" You tell him starting to grab some food "And I'm a huge fan of you and the boys" you tell him seeing him chuckle. You just grabbed some salad because you didn't want your boyfriend to get mad at you, "Is that seriously what you're eating?" Niall questions and all you do is nod. Your boyfriend finally finds you as you were leaving the table of food "And of course I'd find you where the food is" He grumbles taking the plate out of your hands and throwing it away "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't like fat people? Keep eating like that and I'll leave your ass" he tells you. You tried to explained that you haven't eaten all day, but he didn't want to hear it. When you both arrived at the table, the One Direction boys were sitting there and there were two open seats one next to Harry and one next to Niall, before you can pick where to sit you were being ushered to the seat next to Niall, because to your boyfriend "There ain't no way you're going to sit next to the Womanizer of the group". You weren't even halfway through the night and your stomach wouldn't stop growling, you tried as hard as you could to muffle the screaming whales going off in your stomach when you see a plate come into view "He's not looking, go ahead I'll watch" Niall whispers into your ear nodding as you reach for something, you grab some of his steak that he already had cut up, after one piece you went for more off his plate until it was empty. You felt so bad that you emptied his plate that you decided you would go get him a new plate of food, looking at your boyfriend you tap his shoulder and told him you would be right back but all he did was ignore you. You get up and quickly but quietly make your way back to the table of food but before you could reach it a hand reached out from a dark hallway and grabs you "It's okay, it's just me" you hear an Irish accent say "Niall?" you question turning around to look at you. "I'm sorry I scared ya, but I've been seeing how your boyfriend had been treating ya all night, and just from our little chat we had earlier I just don't think you should be treated that way..." Niall trails off "You hardly know me..." you tell him "Besides, this is how it's always been... He doesn't think I know he flirts with every beautiful girl, but I do" you add "Well you are the prettiest girl here to me, and like I said I don't think you deserve it and I definitely think he doesn't deserve you. You deserve something better; you deserve the world" Niall states rubbing his thumb against your cheek. You just stand there for a moment, soaking up the personal attention as a tear slips down your face "You're right, I'd do anything for him, and I deserve someone who would do the same for me." you tell Niall...

[damfinofanfiction]

Chapter 10: New York City

Having received an invitation from Benjamin to visit him in New York, Gail considered going to the city. Although she was interested in traveling to a different coast, it was hard to ask for another vacation from her boss since she had just returned from a funeral. Additionally, she doesn't have much time to make that kind of trip, not to mention the long distance trains travel across the country. As soon as Gail had heard from the studio, she wired Benjamin, "I'll be in New York as soon enough. Don't want to stay too long. See you then. - Gail”. 

Gail boarded the train Monday evening. Again she took her trip alone because in addition to having already visited the town recently, Sally had to work and Lenore doesn’t trust her niece enough to leave her in Los Angeles by herself. Lenore had arranged for Gail to stay with a friend of hers. When she finally arrived at her destination, she realized it was the furthest she had ever been from her relatives, but knowing she'll meet up with someone she knows, she'd be fine. At Grand Central Station, Gail reunited with Benjamin. The two embraced one another, “Again, I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother. How are you holding up?”, he said.

She replied, "It's been hard, but I'm doing better."

He helped by carrying her suitcase, “You didn't have to visit me soon enough.”

She followed him when they strolled through the station, “I thought so too, but then I was notified studio didn't want me.”

He turned to her, “Did you get fired?”

She didn’t want to tell him yet. She was holding a yawn as she answered, “Oh no, it’s just I’m not needed all this week.”

As the two left the Grand Central Station clasp by clasp, Gail became more mesmerized with the tall buildings surrounding them than when she first saw the cityscape through the train window. "They said this is the city that never sleeps," Gail grinned, covering her ears as she chuckled, "I guess I now know why." The city was loud, crowded, and chilly in contrast to Los Angeles. 

While looking out for a taxi, Ben asked her, “Do you know where you will be staying?”

"Yes, Lenore notified a New Yorker friend, Shannon, through the telegraph that I'd be staying with her," Gail responded. 

A look of confusion crossed his face, "I had no idea those machines still existed."

“Neither did I.”, she then explained, “Shannon was previously married to her brother but they remained friends after the divorce.” She took out a small piece of paper from her pocket, “I got the address before leaving.”

Ben hailed a cab and put her luggage in the trunk as Gail climbed into the vehicle. Once in the passenger seat, he instructed the driver to the address and as the drive went on he said to her, “I have to ask. Are we still dating?”

Gail didn’t answer, only turned her contact to the window. He explained, “Well, I just thought when you accepted my invitation, you must have forgiven me for what I said last month.”

She finally looked at him, "Of course I have dear, I really needed to be cheered up, and taking a trip would help even though the train ride robbed me of my hours. Also, sure we’re still together.”

Ben leaning in to kiss Gail, she warned him that she hasn't showered since Monday, to which he replied, "I don't care." Their kisses were quick and passionate. "At least you brushed your teeth," he told her.

Following the address, the taxi took them to the neighborhood at Greenwich Village. Gail knew she had reached her destination when the car parked in front of the row house.

She approached the house to press the buzzer, the red-haired woman in her early 40’s answered the door. Beside her was a young boy who was halfway through putting on his jacket. “Are you Gail Adams?" The woman said in an Irish accent.

She corrected her, "No, Gail Anders."

“Right, sometimes I misunderstood the Morse code.” 

“You must be Shannon Scott?” Gail greeted her with a handshake.

“Aye, and this one here is Oliver.” The kid, under the age of ten, had yet learned his manners when he picked his nose. She then reprimanded him, “Lad, not while the guest is present.” 

While Ben made sure that Gail has her suitcase, he stayed by the cab when she took it by the stoop. "Are you not coming in?" she asked. 

He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, but I have to be at work by 9. But when you do go out, meet me by the building I work at.” After handing her a business card from his workplace, kissed her goodbye and rode off in the taxi. 

Shannon commanded the son to fetch his books. She turned to Gail and said, “I’m going to take Oliver to school, your room will be upstairs next to mine, there are still wheat cakes so help yourself in case you’re starving. Do you know the Morse code?” Gail told her no. Shannon told her, “Well, you wait for me to be back then.”

Gail went to the kitchen for the wheat cakes that are on the plate. She turned to the Irish woman and asked, “Where’s the washroom?”

Shannon gave her directions before leaving the door, “Two doors to your left, later.” Gail spent the morning adjusting to the time zone. She ate, bathed herself, and put on her clean clothes before taking a refreshing nap.

Gail went out to Manhattan in the afternoon and met Benjamin by the flatiron building. Gail was amazed at the structure, “I have never seen a building like that.”

“Yes, that one is very intriguing," said Ben. "I had submitted the photos I took in California to the publishing company. Their focus is to show us the wonders of our country.”

“Oh, how fascinating.”

Holding her hand, Ben asked, "So now that my shift is over, may I show you around?" She obliged.

He took her to Washington Square Park, followed by lower Manhattan to see the Statue of Liberty. At a nearby diner, they had burgers and discussed where to visit next. She blurted out, "I want to go to Coney Island. It's where they filmed that Comique short with Arbuckle and Keaton."

“We’ll see how that goes darling. Oh, speaking of Keaton, do you know that he and his wife are in town?”

 “Still?”, she said while sipping her soft beverage, “I thought they might have gone by train by now.”

“Oh no, I spotted them on Madison Avenue yesterday. The reporters were following The Keatons until they entered the Biltmore hotel.”

In truth, Gail already knew Buster was in the city. In fact, it was particularly the reason for her trip to the east. If she had work this week, she could always meet Buster when he returns to Los Angeles. She had hoped that she would run into him while they are on location, but in such a large city, there wouldn't be a chance for that. After leaving the diner, they managed to be at Coney Island for an hour and a half. There, they got on a few rides before going on the Ferris wheel where he kissed her when their bench reached the very top.

The next day Gail came into the Flatiron building and reached the 18th floor via the elevator. She greeted a female secretary upon entering. She replied, “Good morning, is there anything I can help you with?” 

Gail said to her, “Yes, I’m here for Benjamin Turner. Is he available?”

She smiled as always, “Yes, he is. Have you scheduled an appointment?”

“No, he might have let you know that I’m here to visit. I’m his girlfriend, Gail Anders.”

She paused for a bit before saying, “He did, but he didn't mention having a girlfriend.” She stood up to take her to him, “I'll let him know you're here."

Gail noticed her tone got less cheery after mentioning that she’s dating Ben. This left her wondering if they were close. After all, she recognized her in one of his photos. They found Ben going through his photos on the table. After greeting Gail, He gave her a tour a bit before letting her look around as he worked a bit more.  

Ben and Gail ate their lunch together by his desk, where she questioned him about the secretary. “Rosie?” he asked. That’s her name she thought. He added, “It’s complicated, I wasn’t sure if you’re my girl.”

“Was she the one from one of your pictures?” Gail asked.

“Yes, I used to date her while living in New Jersey but there’s nothing between us now.”

Gail believed him since he wasn’t on the east coast long enough to be tempted to cheat on her with the secretary. On the other hand, there might be signs that Rosie still has feelings for him. Nevertheless, she would rather discuss what she wanted to do in the city, but Benjamin informed her, “I’m afraid today is busy, but I get off at 5. Will you be alright by then?”

Gail replied sheepishly, “Well, I could ask Miss Scott to accompany me instead. If not, I’ll do just fine.”

 Ben brought out the map from the drawer and he drew the directions on it. He handed it to her when he’s done, “Don’t you worry darling, we have plenty of time for our date. I bought tickets to the Music box revue. We’ll go after dinner.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun!” 

Before getting back to work he told her to meet him at Times Square. She kissed him on the cheek and left the building. Gail would have had a hard time navigating in New York without the arrows and circles Benjamin sketched. She already had a list of things to do in the Big Apple before she could meet him again.

Gail has had a nice outing so far. She had already taken in the sights of skyscrapers under construction. Shannon did come out to look at the window displays with her from the Department stores on 34th street. While Gail was admiring their set-up, Shannon told her, "The Saks on 5th Avenue has the best window display. See it for yourself."

Before doing so, Gail went into the Macy’s store where she bought herself a new pair of stockings, a pair of nice walking shoes to replace the ones that were worn out, and an evening dress for tonight because she neglected to pack one. She had changed into her dress and shoes and had Shannon take her other dress and stockings to her Rowhouse. 

When Gail walked to the fifth avenue, it suddenly began to rain. She rushed to the nearest shade since her parasol isn't meant to be waterproof. Once protected from the raindrops, she shook the parasol dry. Then, an individual dressed in a black derby hat and a navy blue suit walked past her into what turned out to be a hotel. She recognized him. Not letting the chance slip through her fingers, she walked inside to approach him, and got his attention by saying, "Hi, Buster."

***********

So far, Natalie and Buster have enjoyed their vacation, but she still misses her family terribly. She found comfort in the messages she received from home; by letter or by phone. Even though she was born and raised in Brooklyn, it felt strange to Buster that now she considered California her home.

The couple had gone out to shops, shows, and restaurants. Natalie had her purchases sent home. One evening Buster took her to a secluded beach. There, he threw rocks to the water and let the tide soak his bare feet. But the missus stayed behind to sit on the rock saying, “I didn't want the sand to stick on me.” 

After a couple of days, he had stopped bombarding her with pleadings to be intimate with him again, he only received a kiss in the hand and some light touching. He remained faithful to her despite the temptations he faced on the streets.

However, it wasn’t all leisure, Buster appointed his studio to make sure the shares that the late Jean Havez had received for the film will go to his widow. Every so often, he meets with Lex Neal to brainstorm ideas for the new feature. When they decided on a western comedy, Buster would call Joe Schenck about it. The other day Keaton met up with Bob Sherwood, a film critic and a fan of his work. He gave Keaton his story to use for a feature film in the future. Buster saw potential in the story and bought it. Now, having the films on his belt, it was decided that they all will head home a week early. 

After having lunch in the nearby restaurant with Sherwood, Natalie chose to take her last shopping trip to Saks and Buster hung out with Bob a bit more until the latter had to get home. The rain forced Keaton to hurry from the restaurant to the Biltmore, holding the newspaper to keep dry. He was going up to his suite when a female voice behind him said, “Hi Buster.”

He turned to a certain wavy-haired dame with a damp parasol. Although knowing her voice sounded familiar, he didn't register her to his mind until she told him, "It's me, Gail. From the Ginmill.”

It was coming back to him, the fainting lady on Seven Chances, “Oh yeah.” It was then that Buster realized anyone could recognize him or even worse, he and Gail would be discovered by anyone from his group, so he led her into the phone booth with him, hiding. The booth was so small that they were separated by a centimeter.

He told to a confused Gail, “Sorry, I didn’t want anyone else to see me.”

Gail, seemed awkward to be standing close to him, only said, “No problem.” her expression became a bit alarmed, “You’re not wet are you?”

He rubbed each of his arms to try to get them warm, “Just damp, not enough to catch a cold.”

There were dewdrops on her hair, but she wiped them off with her handkerchief, “I’m sure I’ll live too.”

Buster tilted his hat to conceal himself,  “What are you doing here?”

“I happen to be visiting my boyfriend who’s here on a business trip. I know you’re here too. I almost didn't think I would ever bump into you."

He was at a loss for words due to his shyness flaring up, but then he asked, “So it's been two months, how you been?”

“I’m well.” Gail also told him about working in Charlie Chaplin’s upcoming film, “Have you known him?”

“Charlie? Oh yes, I sometimes meet him in banquets and events. I first met Chaplin when he visited Roscoe around the time I was working with him. My studio used to be his.”

“Is that so? Speaking of studios, I could never find which building you used to work at.”

He shrugged, “That’s fine, I don’t remember where it was either.” He noticed the bottom half of her  dress was poking out of the long coat, “My guess is he’s taking you out tonight?”

She looked down at herself, “Oh!” not having room to bend down, she picked up the hemline to check if it has rain damage, “He’s taking me out to eat and then to see a Revue.”

He avoided looking at her exposed legs, to prevent temptation, “Meaning he’s taking you to dinner and a show.”

“In that case, yes. She dropped the hemline after inspection. Thank goodness, I didn't ruin my dress, I just got it today.”

He looked at her again, “You didn’t buy it at Saks did you?”

“Heavens no, it’s too pricey!” 

“I wish Nate’s like that,” Gail asked who. Buster said, “My wife,” he turned away from her, “I love her, but she had to use my money to get herself something nice. And she rarely wears the same thing for Mike’s sake.”

“I know you kissed Mayzie.” 

Stunned, Buster turned to her again, “Mayzie?”

Gail had her eyes shut tight, but she opened them, “She’s the chorus girl for the Club I used to work at. She told me at New Year's that you had met once and flirted with her. " 

Fuck he thought, “She did?”

“Yeah, she did feel bad for telling me. But it’s not like you had relations to several other women.” Buster covered his mouth with his hand, feeling intimidated. Gail became concerned when she identified his body language, “Have you?”

That’s it then, the jig is up. “Yes.”

Gail held her arms and trembled a bit, seemly upset, “Why?” She got misty-eyed, “You have a family and a reputation, so why do you want to throw it all away?”

He admitted, “She left me no choice, Nate forced me to be in a separate room after our youngest was born.” 

“What.” 

He explained whilst looking down, “I was faithful to her, but when she didn’t want any more children, she said we would no longer be intimate. I supported her decision, but I didn't want to be abstinent for the rest of my life, so I chose to seek affection from other women. She agreed with me as long it’s discreet."

Gail wiped her eyes, “Have you considered any contraceptives?”

“I have, but she doesn’t believe in them.”

Having her head wrapped around to what he told her, said, “I’m sorry I didn’t know,” she attempted to comfort him by patting his arm.

“Did she tell anyone else?”

“Just Sally, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me.” She smiled.

Buster thought he should never have told this to anyone else but he wanted Gail to know. He was relieved how she took it. At that moment, they noticed it had stopped raining, “I think I should be heading out.” Gail left the phone booth, but Buster grabbed her hand before she was out of his reach.

“I just remembered,” He said, letting go of her hand, “It’s at East 48th street. I forgot the address but it’s a warehouse. You can spot it if you can.”

“Thank you,” she waved goodbye.

It never occurred to him to ask Gail how long she was in town until she went outside. In any case, they'll meet in Hollywood eventually. Buster left from the booth to the elevator in a discreet manner, hoping no one noticed he was there with her. 

**************

After seeing the revue, they strolled through Central Park. Gail was humming the Irving Berlin songs. They sat on a bench where she looked up to the moon. When Benjamin wrapped his arm onto her waist. Gail was anxious, he soothed her when he assured her, “Don’t worry, we’re still taking it slow.” 

They kissed soon after since there were no others in the park. When she thought of Buster kissing someone who’s not his wife, she stopped the lip-locking.

“Is there something wrong?” Ben asked.

Gail was reeling from having learned the truth about Buster. She was angry at him, but knowing he still loved his spouse, she felt awful for him. She didn’t want to mention this to Ben. Instead, she thought it was time to tell him, “I have a confession to make. I was let go by the studio, but as a bathing beauty. Sennett will remain in contact with me when they give me a supporting part.”

He took a deep breath before saying, "Well, I guess I'll confess too. I won’t be coming back to California for a while.”

Her head shot up at him, “What?”

“The company wants me here permanently.”

She let go of his embrace, “But you said you’ll be here for a month.”

“I lied.”

“You Scoundrel!” She stood up, Benjamin followed.

“I’m sorry darling but I got a job offer and I live close to here. I can suggest you could move here with me.”

She turned to him in an upset tone, “Most certainly not! I liked New York, but I don’t want to live close to my family. I buried my grandmother just a week ago, and I don't want to miss any more moments with them. I have a life in Hollywood now.”

“For god’s sake Gail! You have been there for almost 2 years and you haven’t made it to stardom. There are already ladies who look like you and some of them started out younger than you.”

She yelled, “Shut up Ben just shut up!”

He slapped her. 

She hit him on his arm with her parasol.

He was about to strike her again when they heard a whistle coming from a wandering cop. “Is everything alright?” he said approaching them.

Gail replied with her head up high, “Sure, I am leaving anyway.” she walked away from him with the Cop. Having done what she had seen it was left for her to retire to the Rowhouse. She took one last look at him, “Goodbye Benjamin.”

God, what a long and complicated chapter, but I did it! I hope you enjoyed it!

[lauwrite1225]

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : On ao3 I've got a comment telling me the slow burn was killing them, well... I hope this is killing yall too lmaooo

Warnings : fluff ;)

Chapter 8 : And I'm ready to suffer, and I'm ready to hope

Victoria has never found a more peaceful place than Osferth’s house before, it’s so far from London’s constant noise. Here the night is silent, occasionally interrupted by sounds of animals, which she sometimes finds scary enough to wake up Finan who’s sleeping on the mattress next to her bed in the living room. He usually answers her what wild animal is howling, enhanced with Irish curses as he tries to fall back to sleep. 

“Ya’re goin’ to know the sound of all the animals of this forest soon.” He comments one morning when she sits in front of him at the kitchen table.

She chuckles quite uncomfortably, guessing he’s starting to be annoyed of being woken up in the middle of the night. “I’m a city girl.” She shrugs innocently and Finan shakes his head.

Even if he’s grieving his friend’s loss, Finan keeps a rather good mood, which she supposes is due to Osferth. She regularly finds them laughing together, undoubtedly remembering old memories, which warms Victoria’s heart. She also gets to learn a lot about the monk who reveals to in fact be King Alfred the Great’s bastard son.

“So you’re royalty!” She exclaims, her fork falling back into her plate. 

“Not really.” He answers, looking down as he is ashamed of who he is while Finan is chuckling at her shock. 

“But, if you were a monk and a King’s son, how did you end up fighting for Uhtred?” She asked, the same curiosity she used to have for Finan growing for him. 

“My uncle used to fight alongside Uhtred.” He explains, his forks forming circles in the air. “I wanted to become a warrior like him.”

“And let me tell ya, that was a hard row to hoe.” He jokes at Vicky’s attention, pointing at Osferth who’s now pouting. “I've never imagined t'was so hard to hold a sword.” He giggles before taking a mouth full of vegetables while the monk blushes. “But we finally succeeded to make a good warrior of him after all.”

This time, the two men look at each other with pride, a small knowing smile gracing their faces. 

“I'd like to learn.” Vicky interrupts them suddenly. 

“What? To use a sword?” Finan frowns at her. “It's a little useless nowadays.” 

She rolls her eyes which only makes him smirk as he eats. “I'd like to learn whatever could help me to defend myself.” She explains with such determination that even Finan stops smirking to stare at her intently. “I don't want to be as useless as in London if something happens to us.”

She straightens her shoulder while holding Finan’s gaze, feeling the need to show him that she can be stronger than she looks. She thought of it a few times during the night, not dying is one thing but it still isn’t preventing her to be taken, Finan wouldn’t have been here that night, she’s sure she wouldn’t be standing here right now. And she even less wants to be a liability to the two men if anything has to happen.

She notices the flicker of hesitance on Finan’s face at the way the corner of his mouth tilts. “Please, Finan.” She insists and he finally sighs, lifting his head to the ceiling. 

“Alright I’ll teach ya.” He accepts, starting to eat again and only staring at her broad smile from the corner of his eyes. “But don’t imagine I’ll be easy on ya.” He warns her but she’s too happy to take in the warning and doesn’t even notice Osferth’s grimace at it. 

However, she soon learns that she should have taken it seriously. Vicky had a lot of sport teachers during school, more or less rigorous, but undoubtedly, none were matching Finan. He is very patient, able to show her movement a hundred times without getting annoyed, though, the lesson won’t end until she does it perfectly. He teaches her how to punch and kick correctly for a whole afternoon, her legs and arms aching at the end. She’s so exhausted that she doesn’t even wake up during the night because of animals and Finan is more than happy to finally have his sleep undisturbed. 

The next morning, after her training, Sophie comes to Osferth's place and gives a worried look to Vicky as she finds her sprawled, arms crossed and forehead resting on it. “Are you alright?” She asks, putting her hand on her back and then grimacing when she realizes she’s all sweaty. 

“Finan killed me.” She grumbles, her voice muffled by the caged formed by her arms. She finally straightens, stretching to try to make the discomfort of her painful muscles disappear. “I asked him to teach me how to fight, and I’m starting to regret it.”

Sophie laughs, sitting on the chair next to hers. “Osferth told me he was a ruthless teacher.” She explains to her and Vicky sighs in despair. 

Since they are here, Sophie comes everyday, and even stays some nights, erasing any of Victoria’s doubts about their relationship. She doesn't know the French well, but she does appreciate her already, another woman's ear always likeable. 

“I found something that could interest you.” Sophie says, taking her phone out of her pocket and opening an application before handing it to her. 

Vicky grabs it carefully and lets out a short breath at the newspaper article she's showing her. She reads the text surrounding the picture of her explaining where the police stand regarding her disappearance. She can't tell if it relieves her or not that they are clueless about it. Which for sure disappoints her is that they are as clueledd as them when it comes to the men who attacked them. She doesn't raise her eyes when she hears the front door opening nor when footsteps approach. She only looks away when she feels Finan's breath near her ear making her shiver as he leans over her shoulder, his hands clenched around the chair's back.

“What's that?” He asks, meeting her eyes briefly before staring at the screen.

She swallows and hands him the phone so he can read. “A record on what happened in London.” She explains as he straightens. “They don't know more than us.”

“Good.” He says, scrolling down the article and when he looks up from the phone, he is facing Vicky’s confused frown.

“But we could have learned more about their intentions.”

Finan shakes his head, giving her phone back to Sophie. “And by this, they’d get interest in us and it is the last thin’ we need.”

Vicky leans back in her chair. “Alright, but how do we get to know who they are and what they really want? Even if we hide, we are exposed because we don’t know our enemies.” She voices a relevant fact that even Osferth agrees with as he walks into the room, stopping to rest a hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “We need to do research about them.” 

“With what?” The Irishman huffs. “All we have is a piece of paper and a revolver.”

Feeling the tension rising between Victoria and Finan, the French clears her throat. “Maybe, there was something that could be…” She searches a word, gesturing in the void. “Particular. An accent maybe?”

“They didn’t talk a lot but they were sounding English.” She answers leaving Finan’s eyes to give all her attention to Sophie. 

Finan does the same, crossing his arms. “They were fine trained men, if there’s more, it must be the case for them too.” He exchanges a serious gaze with Osferth, a silent conversation working between the two men. “We should arm ourselves, just in case.”

This time, it’s the two women who exchange an anxious glance. “I still have guns in the basement, a little old and in need of a good cleaning, but it’s better than nothing.”

On those words, the two old friends decide to spend the afternoon on restoring Osferth’s weapons. Victoria stares with wide eyes at the amount of them resting on the kitchen table, dusty revolvers and rifles. Sophie left earlier with a list of materiel to clean them and Victoria supposes they won’t have finished until nightfall at least. Her eyes instinctevely search for Finan, which she has realised doing more and more often, in the room and finally turns to the monk when she understands he isn’t here. He answers her that he is still in the basement, so she decides to join him, though she’s also curious to see what there is in it. She climbs down the ladder and jumps on the stoned floor. There isn’t much light, a simple old oil lamp allowing her to see Finan who’s staring intently at a sword he is holding. Vicky approaches him and can’t help but let out a sound of amazement as she admires the weapon, the flicker of the flame making the blade shine and a piece of amber ornamenting the hilt. 

“It’s a beautiful sword.” She says looking up to the Irishman whose eyes are glittering under the light. “Finan?” She calls him softly, her hands finding his arm. 

He blinks a few times and the tears have disappeared to let him smile. “It’s Uhtred’s sword, Serpent-Breath. I’ve never seen a better sword.” He explains with admiration.

He hands her the sword and she takes it carefully, surprised by the heaviness of it, wondering how it was possible to fight with this. But she must admit that it really is the result of a fine work, the blade, old and not as sharp as it must have been, but nonetheless impressive. 

“You have a sword too?” She turns to him again.

“Aye, but I’ve lost it a long time ago.” He shrugs sadly. 

She gives him back the weapon and lets him hang it on the wall. “What did you call it?”

He chuckles lightly before smiling broadly. “Soul-stealer.” He answers with a threatening tone but it only makes her raise her eyebrows as if she isn’t impressed at all.

“Terrifying.” She breaths, pretending to be scared. 

“Ya know, men used to call me Finan the Agile because I was a really good swordsman.” He explains, heading back to the ladder.

“Oh? And what about women?” She asks him with a teasing tone that definitely should have been thought about twice. She can’t help the rise of blush to increase as he just winks at her with a mischievous smirk before climbing up.

She curses herself for the sudden warmth in her belly as she wonders what his gesture implied. She shakes her head to make it vanish. When Sophie is finally back, they start restoring the guns, Osferth showing her how to clean a barrel correctly. She can’t help but wonder how many people have been killed with this gun as she holds one. It seems so easy to pull the trigger, in a second one is ripped of its life. She thinks back to the fight in her flat, at how Finan cold bloodedly killed the three men. Will she become like this as well if she learns how to use one? The question remains stuck in her mind until the night when Finan asks her what is troubling her. They are just the two of them in the living room as he sits next to her on the bed to remove his shoes.

She shifts uncomfortably, twisting her fingers. “What do you feel when you kill someone?”

Finan freezes at her question, still bent to unlace his shoes. “I feel bad.” He answers finally as he straightens. 

“Each time?” She asks him with an inch of surprise that makes her tone higher. “Even when they are bad people?” 

“No, it's not like that.” He turns his head to her and even in the dark she is fascinated by the intensity of his gaze. “The first man I killed was a Dane. I was still in Ireland, hunting with my father. He came out of a bush and I acted without thinkin'.” He scratches his beard before his hand slides down to grip what she supposes is the pendant hanging at his necklace. “No matter how many times I've heard people call them heathens or demons, when I saw his frightened eyes as life was leaving his body, I realised he was just a man. And I wondered who I was to take a man's life so easily.” His grip tightens, fisting his shirt as he sighs.

His hand drops on his thigh and he is close enough so his elbow brushes slightly against her arm. He looks down as if he is suddenly ashamed or scared of what she'll think of him and it makes her heart squeeze. In a little time, they both have reached a level of confidence with each other that Victoria didn't expect. Despite his lie, she finds herself unable to judge him. And it reassures her to know that after all he isn’t as insensitive as she thought. Her hand slides on his forearm until it reaches his wrist, her fingers tracing the swollen skin of a scar slashing his palm. Their proximity makes her face warm and she's glad that the darkness can hide it, so she leans to the side until her head rests on his shoulder. 

“Why did you ask?” He whispers, his breath brushing her forehead. 

She feels her heartbeat getting stronger and faster as she thinks of the right words.”When you fought that night, you did it without any hesitation. You just acted when I just stayed away utterly afraid. Now that I don’t want to be so useless anymore, I wonder if I’ll be able to act like you did, without thinking.”

“Ya don’t have to be like me.” He replies immediately, making her look up to him. “In fact, I’d prefer that ya weren’t.” He admits. 

“But one day I will. One day I’ll have lost all the people I care for and I’ll have suffered as much as you did.” She says and the way her heart aches at the simple idea makes her throat tighter. 

Finan shifts to better face her, his hands cupping her face and his thumb caressing her cheek even if there’s no tears to wet them. His eyes are staring at her with such softness despite how deep and dark they are, she feels like she could melt now and then. 

“I’ll keep ya away from that.”

Her heart misses a beat and her breath runs short. She can’t argue with him about the foolishness of such a promise, destabilized by how close his face is to hers, and because deep down she wishes he could be able to protect her from the pain. Him and no one else. His hot breath caresses her lips, making her whole body feel warm and for a brief second, she wonders how it would feel to have his mouth pressed against hers, how his beard would scratch her flushed skin. 

But before she can have an answer Finan moves away, breathing heavily. “I think we should sleep.” 

She barely has time to breathe a small ‘yes’ that he is lying in his own bed. She does the same, her hand pressed against her chest as her heart finds a steady rhythm again. She stares at the ceiling for long minutes, feeling suddenly so empty and cold. 

Tag :​ @for-bebbanburg @osferth @maggiescarborough ​ @finansarms ​ @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby @solinarimoon

[mdccanon]

Same anon here who was talking about the Wanda whitewashing issue, just wanted to say that you’ve given me a lot to think about regarding an issue that many have decided to make black and white, comic!Wanda good and movie!Wanda bad. (Also, it’s kinda weird that most of the people complaining about the movies Americanizing Wanda by having her accent be weaker at certain point and having her like Western sitcoms are… well, American XD)

Well, the thing about representation is that it can manifest in a really small way that the audience appreciates, but it usually still has to play a structurally important role in the narrative. And sometimes people are so hungry for it that, like romance, they just insist that it can be inserted with disregard to pacing or tone.

Came back from Shang-Chi! Loved the representation. But I also noticed the representation had narrative purpose. It matters to the narrative that Shang-Chi's best friend can't pronounce his name. Both to plot, and it adds to the tone.

It adds to The Falcon and The Winter Soldier for black people to call Sam "Black Falcon" and him correct them. It adds for Sam to call Bucky White Panther and it be corrected that it's White Wolf. XD The narrative is asking the question of is Sam the black Captain America or is he Captain America?

These jokes wouldn't make as much since in... Age of Ultron or Civil War. Do the black kids that exist in the face that Civil War takes up in the narrative still make the mistake of calling him Black Falcon? Yes. But that doesn't make sense to include in that movie.

Is this me making up excuses to pardon "not having representation"? I'll answer that with another question. Matt Murdock and Steve Rogers are both Irish Catholics, but which one does the MCU include that in every story told about them? Daredevil's Irish anger and Catholic shame play a part in the narrative, both the plot and the tone.

Representation matters, but people usually only think of the representation they want/are politically sensitive to.

They could have still had Clint have a hearing aid, though. XD But the writers of the MCU equally don't care about showing any communication devices and literally say "Assume people's mics are hot in any given action scene." The actors just press their fingers to their ears and talk. GRANTED, with ALL of that said, there are invisible hearing aids, so again, are we asking for Clint "I'm an assassin" Barton to have big, 1990s, obvious hearing aids for the audience's benefit of seeing them? Most people concede no, and just want to see him putting it in/changing them.

[lucy-in-the-house]

☆~Oc info sheet~☆

So I decided to get off my lazy @ss and post this :b

^^^sketch of my oc(tails and ears not included)doing one of her favorite passtimes, free-run parkour in search of a wall to graffiti^^^

☆*Full name*☆

Lucy Jeanette Eileen Giroud

☆*Nicknames*☆

Lu

"The fox"

☆*Sign*☆

Scorpio

☆*Birthday*☆

16/11

☆*Age*☆

17 (physically)

☆*Status*☆

Alive

☆*Race*☆

Half human/half demon

☆*Ethnicity*☆

French-American-British

☆*Gender*☆

Pineapple. Just kidding, Female

☆*Height*☆

1m62

☆*Weight*☆

50kg

☆*Blood type*☆

HH, also known as 'Bombay Blood'

☆*Eye color*☆

Hazel

☆*Hair color*☆

Orange/Red

☆*Occupation*☆

2nd year highschool student, or in France: Terminale student. And the personal bodyguard of the heir to a worldwide criminal organization.

☆*Relatives*☆

-Eliott Giroud (older brother).

-Lisana Teatly (Lily for short, childhood friend).

-Thomas Carlson (childhood friend)

☆*Hobbies*☆

Drawing, 'performing arts' (dancing, singing, theatre,...), playing video games, watching anime and listening to Kpop.

☆*Favorite food*☆

Chocolate and any soft, and not sour, candy.

☆*Favorite drink*☆

Powerade

Bubble tea

Iron bru (for the meme)

☆*For dem shipzzzz*☆

I like to ship her with Laito :3

/(0^0)/

☆*Quotes*☆

"Crazy is such an ugly word. I prefer... mentally unstable."

"I ain't no fox!"

"You vamps are literally oversized mosquitos"

"*Irish accent* you wanna go mate? You wanna fight? I'll bash ye 'ead in! I swear on meh mom I'll destroy ya!"

"Well imma just skiddadle the heck outta here"

"Hon Hon Hon I am very française!"

"GO GET DESTROYED!"

"*T pose* I'm the meme Lord and punmaster. Fear my powerrrrr..."

"If you're feeling suicidal you came to the right place! Cuz I'm gonna f*****g kill myself as well"

"BTS are true Gods. No need for Jesus when I got these sunshines."

☆*Clothes*☆

She will usually wear a red or purple hoodie with black shorts (sometimes jeans) with pink thigh highs and white shoes. She always has three hairclips to hold up the right part of her fringe. She has a pair of red glasses but doesn't wear them often because she forgets. She is very pale (mostly because of her unbalanced health) and is a bit chubby, she's a bit too busty for her age (but seriously doesn't give a damn).

☆*Personality*☆

She's a really laid back and bubbly girl, who has a bad case of swearing, and talking about morbid subjects with problem. She a good person, though she might be psycopathic. However, she's absolutely horrible at socializing, as a child she never had the chance to, so she has difficulty opening up to others, or speaking to people she isn't familiar with. Apart from that, she can get very sassy and sarcastic with a pinch of salt. She gets easily triggered like say sh&t about her fam and she'll diss yo @ss. She's also a 'daredevil', and will never say no to a challenge. She a kind soul with a pinch of spicyness and MEMES.

And although she's a weirdo, she a good and respectful student.

And I almost forgot, she a Kpop fan and an otaku (not a weaboo) so her social life is n o n e x i s t a n t.

☆*History*☆

(Note: her history is long, but if you read it all you'll get a cookie🍰🍩🍰🍪🍪🍪🍪)

Lucy was born in an average family. She grew up in france, though she was born in america. Her life at home was pretty normal, though she didn't get along very well with her father or siblings, but Lucy was pretty close to her mother who was like a best friend to her. At school however, she was constantly bullied, both mentally and physically. The reasons were one because she was the only child with red hair in her school (and they thought she had some contamination), and because she didn't fit in any social groups.

She grew up thinking she was a freak of nature and a disgrace, cursed to be alone, that love was something she'd ever experience and learned that the only way to be left alone was by being creepy and/or violent.

However, she managed to make friends with two people, and she made her mind to protect them no matter what. The bullying went on for 10 years. Her parents tried taking her to therapists, doctors, psycologist, but not one could fix her broken mind. So the only option they had left was to send her away to her Uncle and Cousin, after that day, she never saw her biological family again. (Except for her brother)

Her cousin Caitlin (who is now dead) was like an older sister, and was nice to her. She soon found out that her family came down from generations of monster hunters, her uncle was one, and so was her cousin, her cousin taught her how to fight, and the weakness of practically every monster that she could remember. But her cousin's intentions behind educating her on this topic was to find herself a replacement, to kill a demon she had summoned a few years back. Caitlin had sacrificed her soul to a demon to obtain the weapon needed, which she gave to Lucy.

After her cousin dissapeared, she went back to her hometown and reunited with her friends. She spent the next year hunting the demon her cousin was aiming for, but little did she know that the demon was also looking for her. When they finally encountered, it was a hard battle. Lucy won, but barely alive, having a big scar going across her torso. But before the demon died, it infuses its soul into Lucy's body, giving Lucy it's powers and cursing her with immortality. After that fight, she went back to her friends. They traveled down to the South of France and settled there, trying to live 'normal' lives... Until one day, she received orders from [...] to live with the sakamakis.

☆*Relationships*☆

-Eliott: they almost never interact, although they are family. They only speak when it comes to business or important matters.

-Lily: they are very close, Lily is one of the only two people who know Lucy inside out. Lucy has sworn to protect Lily even if it would cost her life. They love to hangout together and cry over fandoms.

-Thomas: same as Lily, except he's like a mom, always taking care of Lucy, even when she says she doesn't need help, they both share a love for kpop and anime. Lucy's emotional bond with Thomas is stronger than anyone else she's close to, even Lily.

☆*Abilities*☆

As Lucy is half demon, she gained most of the abilities of the demon who infused itself into her, who was a shadow demon:

-increased strength and hearing

-teleportation

-she can sorta float

-the shadow realm: by jumping into a shadow (a person's shadow, object's shadow, any shadow at all) she can enter an dimension called "the shadow realm", a place only shadow demon may access

-a little thing I like to call Katherine: Katherine was the 'name' of the demon Lucy fought with, this ability activities when she deadly mad or under too much stress or pressure that she just snaps and goes psycho. She has strange black tentacles (like a kagune from Tokyo ghoul). She will attack anything around her. Only Thomas and Lily can control her under this form.

Lucy has been fighting since as long as she can remember, so she is very skilled in the domaine.

Although she might not have all the abilities of the demon, she's still more powerful than a demon, as the fact she has emotions (which demons don't) has a great impact on her powers.

Lucy can't die from age ot sickness. But she candie from bloodloss and getting wounded, as she heals only slightly faster than a human.

☆*other info*☆

1-Lucy was the second eldest of her biological family.

2-she enherited half of her father's company (the other half her older brother) and her family's mansion.

3-she an absolute virgin :/ *le sad music*

4-She's left handed, therefore her capacity at cutting meat is non-exigent (true story, left handed people struggle more at cutting meat, and I'm talking out of experience because I am left handed)

5-she speaks fluent English and French (Those were the two languages she spoke throughout her childhood), she also learned German, Japanese and is trying to learn Korean. She's also fluent in Shakespearean and in both English and Australian slang.

6-in the south of France, she goes to a highly reputed international campus.

7-lucy doesn't like physical contact whatsoever, except for Thomas and Lily, and she can just about tolerate Laito but She gets really flushed and embarrassed. She gets uncomfortable when people touch her hair, shoulders, lower back and thighs, if someone does touch her there she'll flinch and try to pry them off.

8-she only wears clothes that fully cover her body because she's a very self aware person and she's covered in scars because of her sh&tty childhood.

[mercy-of-the-ashes]

"I don't care if I was an idiot Kenta. At least I didn't die." Akechi retorted.

Kenta shook his head. "I agree with fighting but we don't have a chance at even one of those things."

"Screw those odds. I'm not going to allow everything taken away again!" Akechi's anger lashed.

Suki slumped defeated.

Komaru went over to the priestess, "Is he always like this?"

"Yep." Suki looked at the shadows, "Him and the others of the group are all I have left."

"So that's why..."

"Unfortunately so. He's been this was sense I met him. I can only hope he doesn't end up doing anything to get himself killed."

Tōru suddenly fell with a thump and got up with his limited gaze landing on Toko. "I thought you'd be with your friend and avoid the dark."

"I didn't want to be surrounded by blood...and Komaru wants me to at least get a bit more tolerable with being in the dark without panicking."

Tōru nods, "Well jump down and I'll catch you."

Toko jumped and was caught before be put onto the ground below.

Scout mewed, rubbing his head into Nozomi's chest with perked up ears and a wiggly tail.

Tenshi let out a little confused 'hm?' sound. She didn't know where she was at. With her thought process she assumed she was out of the refuge. A common thing to happen when this event rises.

🐾 @thelittleveterinarian 🐾

A young man clad in red-orange peeked down the entry. The soft light green hue of his curious eyes were eclipsed by the darkness below, yet they still were able to emit concern.

“Hey.” He spoke in an Irish accent, his voice gruff. He didn’t sound so happy. “I hope I’m not interruptin’ anythin’. Mind if I join ya to see how the bloody hell dey broke in? I’d like to pummel dose Monokumas’ asses for doin’ tis.”

———————————————————————

So she was still alive. And he was here with her in the medical room again. Deja vu. But he shouldn’t be complaining. This girl proved to be more vital than he had assumed. Did this mean he cared about her? He scoffed at the question. Just because he was here for her didn’t mean he had a change of heart. Not entirely.

“Haiji?” Nozomi brought Scout closer to Tenshi. “Is she going to be alright…?”

“She’s alive, so that’s a good sign.” Haiji then snarled. “Her injuries aren’t like the ones she came with, but she really shouldn’t have risked her ass like that when she barely healed from her other injuries!”

“She did it to protect us. That should tell you something.”

Haiji merely tsked and finished bandaging Tenshi’s wounds.

[abouttorespawn]

Mail stared at the man for a moment as he spoke- he looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on where he might have met this man before. He had a thick Russian accent- mixed with that of a Brit. It faintly reminded him of his childhood friend, but he figured that he would never see Mihael again... Not after he left so suddenly, without a word to Mail. This man reminded him of him so much though, the long blond hair, the piercing blue eyes, but he thought it must just be a coincidence that this man had so many similarities to his old friend. When the man mentioned something about his scars and how ugly Mail must think he is he nearly choked on his drink- breaking his stare, not realizing that he had been staring for so long. He used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe the rum that had trinkled down his chin. "Yer' not the ugliest, not ugly at all if I might add. That is one 'ell of a scar though." The Irish man couldn't believe his ears, it wasn't every day he was called ‘cute’, not to mention ‘succubus’. "Succubus? Nah mate, far from it. Human? I'm not reall’ sure anymore. I joined up with a crew not too long ago actually... I'm sure we could use an extra hand on deck if you're looking for some gold in your pocket." Mail felt guilty, sitting there and listening to this man's story- it was horrid what had happened to him, but he felt the need to open up to this man as well. "My story doesn't come close to toppin' yer's’, but before I turned to piratin’ I was actually sailing on one of the King's fancy Man O’ Wars... It wasn't really my first choice, but I'd be damn if I stay on land farmin’ and milkin’ cattle... I don't want no farmer's life... Too borin’, no adventure. I thought maybe if I joined the red coats then maybe I'd have enough coin to move some place warm, like down here. I only sailed with ‘em for ‘bout a month or so before my smart mouth got me in trouble- my capt’n h’ad me wanted for treason after I tried escapin’ after the beat me and threw me in the brig. I picked the lock, but before I could lower the boat off the ship they c‘aught me red h‘anded. They ended up throwin’ me overboard n‘ear an island- left me a pistol with one shot... Marooned me there and left me to die. I thought ‘bout shootin’ myself with that shot, but I kept my hopes up- I was there for quite a time, I'm not even sure h‘ow long... It felt like years. A ship came passin’ through, the crew dropped anchor close to shore- lookin’ for some game to hunt, but found me instead. I'm workin’ as a deckhand r‘ight now, I mostly clean- help with the sails, fly the colors, and lately the capt'n h‘asa been lettin’ me load the cannons. I'm still a wanted man if they ever find out I'm alive. The capt’n I'm workin’ for doesn't seem all that bad, but ‘ee's gives me a weird feelin’. I don't think ‘ee's honest with the crew.” Mail felt as if he said too much, he probably stepped over the line letting this stranger know his suspicions about his captain, but he felt like he could trust this drunkered. "Wha‘da‘ya say? It be nice to h‘ave another cute guy aboard the ship- it would be less borin’, it would.” He smiled a tooth smile, winking at the man before finishing off his mug. He stood up- carrying his hat at his side before motioning the man to follow him. "Come on, ‘ye need to change out of ‘em clothes before ‘ye get sick. ‘Yer face is still bleedin’ too... ‘Yer lucky that didn't attractive sharks, you definitely wouldn't looks so pretty then."

It was The Golden Age of piracy- year 1653. The seas were swarmed with pirates from all around the globe, the British Royal Navy, and The Spanish. One particular pirate had found himself in a slightly drunken state- chugging rum from a mug in a tavern, sitting by himself at a small table towards the back of the room. Other sailors and pirates were either singing along with the band and drinking with one another, or fighting. This young man had once been part of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, but soon after he had joined he was marooned, left to die on an island with nothing but his name and a pistol. He had been wanted for treason, going against his Captain’s orders, and not doing as he was told. A passerby ship had stopped at the island to do some hunting, and found the young man- welcoming him aboard and took him to this tavern here in Porto Rico- not far from Florida where the ship was sailing. Apparently there was some talk of Spanish riches, treasure and gold. Mail never expected he would get mixed up with pirates, it was a hard life so far, but it was better than serving under the British, and it was far better than milking a cow and tending to crops on a farm. At least it was adventurous, and there never seemed to be a dull moment at sea. His blue eyes glanced up as he felt the table shift- he was about to deck whoever this was sitting across from him, thinking it was just another drunken sailor looking for a fight, but the man before him didn’t appear to be looking for a fight. Instead- he had a look of loss on his face, and get definitely looked lost. Other than the fact that his clothes were soaking wet he appeared to be dressed nicely, like a captain would be, but this man also looked like he had endured hell. The man had horrid scars covering half of his face, leading down his neck, and Mail assumed there were even more under those clothes. He didn’t know what to say, how to address this man- he filled his mug again before sliding the bottle of rum over towards the man. “You look like you need a drink, mate.” He took off his tri-hat, laying it in his lap before taking another drink from his mug.

@mellodramattic