#and it's like okay if you like me so much why didn't you fucking HIRE me

[garlique]

i am so fucking tired of doing job interviews and getting the response of, 'oh my god, we loved you so much, you would be literally a perfect fit for x position we aren't hiring for right now!! we're gonna keep your resume on file and put you forward for other positions in the future!' like okay. you understand how that is the most useless thing on the planet and feels far far worse than just getting ghosted?

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

�� liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[earthchica]

Give In

bodyguard! terry richmond x black fem! (Singer) reader

summary: you are a rising singer in need of a bodyguard, and that is when Terry gets hired. Your first encounter didn’t go well; he was a stern jerk while you acted like a bit of a diva. Despite your disagreements, you both eventually found a way to work through your differences.

warning: angst, teasing, enemies to friends, brat behavior, insults, fluff, poetry, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f), protected rough sex, ass slaps, nicknames (baby, baby girl, beautiful)

note: so sorry for the wait! I changed the summary a bit to make it sound better. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I did, haha.

-

Your singing career grew faster than you expected, taking you on an amazing journey to stardom.

However, your new rise to fame has come with pros and cons like stalking paparazzi and crazy fans.

Your manager recommended hiring a private bodyguard. You were initially hesitant, but eventually, you decided to accept the idea.

When you were introduced to Terry Richmond, you couldn't help but think he was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

However, despite his striking looks, he was a complete asshole with a cold demeanor.

For example, at a meet-and-greet photo op, Terry stood at the entrance as each fan walked through.

He patted them down and gave them a rude remark and an intimidating stare.

“Could you please relax your face a bit? And why are you patting them down like airport security? You need to chill; you're scaring all my fans,” You expressed.

"Brenda, where did you find this clown?" You asked your manager, and she tried to reason with you, but you didn't listen.

Terry glanced at you blankly and said, "I'm just doing my job; it's protocol, ma’am,"

“Fucking protocol, this fucking protocol that is it protocol to be an asshole…and what did I tell you about calling me, ma’am? You know, you’re older than me, right?” You asked, and he didn’t respond.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms while patiently waiting for the next fan.

Brenda nudged him on the shoulder and whispered something to him you couldn't hear.

"Look, lady, I'll do my best to appear less intimidating, but I will not tolerate your diva behavior. I'm here to protect you, and protecting your life is serious, which means adhering to protocol. Do you understand?" Terry asked in a softer but still dominant tone.

"I understand, but you need to understand that you are working for me; you can stay on your "protocol shit" but by my rules. Okay," You replied.

“Brenda… I’m sorry, but I can’t work with this,” Terry said, looking at her with frustration, which caused you to look shocked.

"Look at you…running…I thought you were a tough guy, just a clown," You yelled teasing him as he walked out of the room, and Brenda ran after him.

As you talked to your assistant, Chole, Terry, and Brenda walked back into the room. They must have had a talk.

"I apologize for my behavior, miss. I will cooperate with you, but only if you do the same." Terry clenches his jaw, and you smirk, noticing that it probably hurts his ego to say that.

"You know what…It's cool. And fine, I will cooperate," You said, clearing your throat, and oddly feeling slightly aroused.

As the days passed, you noticed subtle changes in Terry's behavior. He started engaging in small talk, asking about your day, and even cracking a joke here and there.

You tried to be less of a bitch and more nice and playful with him. He was still professional but more easy to talk to than before.

Walking together one evening, you paused in front of a quaint little bookstore.

The window display featured a collection of classic novels, their covers slightly worn, as if inviting readers to delve into their pages.

You glanced at Terry, who gave a slight nod of approval, and you both stepped inside.

There weren’t many people inside, thankfully. The smell of old books and polished wood enveloped you, creating a cozy atmosphere.

You wandered through the aisles, your fingers occasionally brushing against the books.

Terry followed at a respectful distance, his eyes still watchful but softer for you.

As you reached the back of the store, you found a comfy armchair tucked away in a corner.

With a contented sigh, you sank into it.

Terry stood nearby, glancing around at the shelves, and you noticed his gaze lingering on a book of poetry.

You pointed it out with a smile. "See something you like, Terry?" You asked curiously in a playful tone.

"Uh," He hesitated momentarily, then picked up the book, flipping through its pages with a surprising gentleness.

"Yeah…I used to read a bit of poetry," He admitted quietly. "It’s been a while."

You nodded, understanding. "Well, maybe today’s the day to start again," You suggested, feeling warm.

“Maybe!”

“Can I ask you what your favorite poem is?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Terry paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "There's one by Langston Hughes that I always liked," He said, voice softening.

“What is it?”

“Uh…The Dream Keeper.' It's about dreams, how precious they are, and how they must be protected and cherished."

You smiled, touched by his choice. "That's a beautiful one. Wow, I wouldn't have thought you would be a guy into poetry."

"Well… that's your problem. You don't know nothing by me," Terry said, a rare, full smile breaking through his usually composed exterior, which fluttered your heart.

"You right…maybe…I should get to know you more on a deeper level." You flirted playfully, looking into his pretty eyes intensely

"How about you? What's your favorite poem?" Terry asked, ultimately shifting the subject.

He was good at that; change the topic whenever you asked about getting to know him.

Terry comes over with the book in his hand and sits next to you. You think for a moment.

"I think I'd have to say 'Phenomenal Woman' by Maya Angelou," You replied as your eyes lit up.

"It's such an empowering piece, full of strength and grace," you continued.

Terry nodded thoughtfully, his fingers gently gliding over the pages of the poetry book.

"Angelou's words have a way of striking right at the heart," He agreed, genuinely interested in the discussion.

“You are a Phenomenal Woman,” He mumbled in a low tone, hoping you didn’t hear him, but you did.

You smirked. “You think so?

“Damn it! nothing gets past you, huh?” He chuckles softly; his little chuckle is music to your ears.

“Do you mean it?” You asked, looking at him, fluttering your eyelashes, waiting for him to respond.

His expression changed from gentle to serious, and Terry stood, stretching a little.

“Let me know when you’ve finished,” He said, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared to walk away, a hint of cold in his voice.

"Wait," You said, stopping him, and grabbing the poetry book from his hand before heading to the front cash register.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he trotted closely behind you.

“I’m getting this for you,” You replied, smiling, handing the book to the cashier.

"As a thank you for cooperating with my attitude. I know it's your job to protect me, and you want to do your job right, but who says we can’t be friends, right?" You added with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that," He said, looking surprised, but a hint of gratitude shone in his light eyes.

"Well, I wanted to," You said simply. Both of you waited for the car inside, and soon, Terry guided you out of the bookstore, shielding you from the paparazzi.

You shivered slightly when you felt his hand on your lower back. The two of you managed to get into the car.

The car ride was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the music and the occasional rustle of paper as Terry thumbed through his new book.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression softened as he read.

Seeing this side of him was amazing, a reminder that maybe you could get him to open up a little bit.

"Thank you," Terry said suddenly, breaking the silence. "For the book."

You smiled, touched by his sincerity. "Of course, Terry."

He simply nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to the pages of his book.

As he immersed himself in the book, you couldn't help but admire his caramel-brown skin tone emanated a warm glow under the sun shining from the window, highlighting his essence.

You watched his mesmerizing blend of greyish-blue or perhaps hazel-green eyes, depending on the day, move back and forth through the words.

“You know, it’s not nice to stare,” Terry remarked playfully, glancing up from his book.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he offered you a warm, infectious smile—the kind that lingered in your thoughts long after you had seen it.

You looked away, trying to suppress a smile; this man was going to be the death of you if you didn't do something about it.

As months passed, Terry finally began to share his life before becoming a bodyguard. The more you learn about him, the deeper your feelings for him become.

You now consider him a friend. In public, Terry maintained a professional bodyguard demeanor.

In private, he was like a big teddy bear you couldn’t help but want to embrace.

Although spending almost every day together, there was still a boundary he wouldn’t cross with you, and you wanted him to cross it so bad.

Your first global tour was a complete success. You traveled worldwide, singing and meeting your fans; it was a dream come true.

It was around eight at night, and you found yourself alone in your hotel room, wearing pajamas and waiting for room service.

Out of nowhere, a firm knock echoes through the quiet room. You pause, glancing toward the door, and call out to see who it is.

A familiar voice responds—it’s Terry. You invited him in, and he entered with the room service server.

His reassuring presence stood tall as he watched the server set everything on the table before dismissing them.

"Are you hungry?" You asked, your voice slightly hoarse from the last evening's performance.

Terry caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with that familiar glimmer.

"No, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure you got your food," He replied, his tone sweet and sincere.

"Come on, are you sure? There’s plenty to share, Terry," You said, motioning toward the spread of food.

"I guess, maybe just a little," He agreed, pulling up a chair beside you.

You both began to eat in a lovely, comfortable silence, but Terry broke it by asking you something.

"I never really asked you this but how are you managing and feeling all of this?" Terry asked, gesturing to this rising fame.

You shrugged, a small smile gracing your lips. "It's been exciting, anxious. I have my moments, you know that,"

"Oh, I know…you still do, bratty attitude and everything," he said teasingly, but stating facts, you playfully hit him on the arm.

"But I'm trying to meditate and stay grounded, surrounding myself with trustworthy people like you and Brenda."

He nodded, a warm grin spreading across his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You're doing an incredible job. It's not easy being in the spotlight all the time." He added, his simple yet heartfelt words warmed your heart.

"Thank you, Terry. That truly means a lot," You replied softly, and he gave you a nod with a smile.

After eating, you and Terry began watching a movie in bed, and you unexpectedly fell asleep.

Your head fell on his shoulder, and you began cuddling against him.

Terry removed you from his arm, got out of the bed, and reluctantly prepared to leave, but you stopped him.

"Where are you goin', T?" You whined sleepily, holding his arm tenderly.

"I should let you get some rest," He said, a touch of remorse in his voice.

“No….wait..,” You said, letting go of his arm and clumsily getting out of bed.

You almost stumbled, but he caught you. You and Terry shared an intense gaze before your eyes shifted to his lips.

You leaned in, lust swirling in the air between you. Just as your lips were about to meet.

Terry stopped you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression serious.

“We can’t,” Terry said, the weight of his words hanging heavily around you.

“Terry, it’s okay. Let it happen,” you said, leaning in closer again, feeling him shift, especially when he didn't push you away.

You kiss his lips softly, and he melts into the kiss, loving the warmth and sweetness of your lips.

Just as you were to rest your hands on his shoulders, a sudden shift occurs, and he gently pulls away, your eyes lingering on his back.

“Fuck, you're making this real hard for me,” He says, moving towards the couch on the other side of the room.

“Terry, don’t you feel this attraction between us? Because I do…I really like you.”

“I-i do but…it’s….”

You moved toward him, knelt before him, and placed your hands on his knees.

“Wrong,” You quietly inquired, your voice barely above a whisper, while pressing your forehead gently against his.

The warmth of your skin is connected with his, creating intimate and intense feelings.

“Because it’s unprofessional, and you work for me. Well, who fucking cares? We're attractive to each other, and we want each other. Let's just say fuck it," You expressed, grabbing his hand and placing it on your exposed wide hip.

You heard his breath hitch as Terry shook his head, trying to resist as he uttered your name, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on…Daddy," You whispered softly, heart racing as you just risked calling him that.

Terry tilted his head and grunted his teeth before grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you into a passionate kiss before lifting you up to straddle him.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the feel of his hands on your body and the feel of his sweet, soft lips.

A muffled moan leaves your mouth as Terry's tongue begins to dance along with yours.

He pulls away and starts kissing your jawline and your neck before opening your button-up PJ shirt roughly and your breasts popping out.

"You've been driving me crazy, you know?" He asked, squeezing them and sucking them, causing you to let out a moan.

You gazed at him with intense desire; his dirty talk and the hunger in his eyes deepened your arousal by the minute.

Terry had you stand up with him, and you both began removing each other's clothes.

His breath hitched, feeling you unbutton his pants and push them down to his feet.

"Mmmmm, I thought it was bigger, Daddy. This is disappointing, " You said playfully, aware that you were treading on dangerous ground.

You bite your lip while gently caressing his big, throbbing dick through his underwear.

He grabbed your neck roughly and said, "Oh, is it? You better watch, girl. I'll have you begging and crying for it; I'mma have to teach you a lesson. keep playing with me."

And indeed he did.

Terry smiled up between your legs. You were a hot, crying, and moaning mess who should've shut your damn mouth.

This was your third orgasm; he was working out of you, and you were so damn sensitive.

"Look at you, a fucking mess. Shouldn't have been talking all that shit." He says, plunging his tongue between your wet folds again, seeking out your most sensitive spots.

"Daddy, ahhh, I'm sorry, oh fuck right here," You cried, feeling him spread your legs further apart, slowly sliding in one, then two fingers, pumping in and out fast.

Pressure began building deep inside. "Right there, baby girl?" He asked.

"Yes, ahhh yes!" You moaned, feeling your walls start fluttering around his fingers. 

A third finger slips in, and in one thrust, your body tenses; in two thrusts, your eyes roll in the back of your head.

"Mmm fuck….I'm close, daddy," You moaned softly, gripping the bed sheets tightly while bucking your hip a little bit.

"Cum for me, baby girl." He says, lapping his tongue through your folds, and the orgasm hits you like a bus.

"That's it, such a good girl. Look at you," Terry says, placing your legs down and kissing your inner thigh.

You look at him hungrily while coming down from your high. You watched him get a condom and stroke his dick.

"How do you want me, Daddy?" "You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Terry looked at you, still stroking himself; the way he was doing it was turning you on even more.

"I want you to ride me, but reverse," He said, going to lie on his back, and you climbed on top, reversing yourself to face away from him.

He held your waist with one hand while his legs were slightly spread apart.

You grip his dick gently and slowly slide down, causing you to let out a hiss, just the tip only was just too much for you.

"What's the matter, baby girl? Too big for you?" He asked, playfully teasing you.

"No, I can handle it; I've had much bigger than this," You said, with fake confidence, which earned you an ass slap.

"Watch it, baby girl," Terry said with a growl, and you moaned, continuing to slowly slide down his big dick until he was entirely in you and stretching you out.

"Okay, good girl, you got through that; go ahead fuck yourself on it, do all the work if you can," He said, propped up with his arms behind his head, and a mischief smirk played on his lips.

Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut? You told yourself you could've had what you wanted, but Terry was punishing you for your teasing.

You bite your lip and place your hands between his legs, bouncing up and down slowly.

"Mmmm, fuck, there you go, beautiful girl," Terry groaned, giving your ass another slap; even when he's trying to teach you a lesson, he's praising you.

You adapted to his size quicker than expected, bouncing faster, but this didn't reach your wants.

You tried to keep going, but you needed him; you needed his dick, and you needed him to fuck you and take control.

"Daddy?" You cried, shifted to look back at him, and he smiled with his brow raised.

"Yes, baby girl? Is something wrong?" He asked with a bit of amusement in his tone.

"Fuck me, please. I'm sorry. I need you, I need your dick, please," You begged desperately.

"tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't know…have you learned your lesson?" Terry asked, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, I swear, yes." You nodded desperately, and tears began streaming down your face.

"Nah…I don't think you have, but Imma turn this pussy out and show you when not to play with me," Terry said dominantly, grabbing your waist and thrusting up harshly, causing you to let out a moan.

"Ahh, fuck" You moaned, placing your hands on his chest, watching his length move in and out of you.

This was what you wanted to feel him move in and out out of your pussy, skin on skin, slapping, filling the room.

Your breasts bounced every which way while you cried and moaned in great pleasure for more.

"You like that, don't you? You like me being in control and fucking the brat of you huh?" Terry asked as his hands moved to your hips, grip tighter than before.

"Yes, Daddy, ahh, just like that, ahh fuck me." You moaned, grew in volume, on the verge of being screams of ecstasy.

The pleasure that he was giving you felt so good that the knot in your stomach was exponentially reforming with every thrust.

Terry could tell from how your pussy clenched around his dick. You whimper when he pulls out, but you get excited when he says.

"Turn around. I want to see that pretty little face of yours, baby."

You turn your body, slightly shaking, and quickly, Terry grabs you to flip you on your back.

You bit your lip, watching him slide in, and start thrusting slowly but quickly, picking up the pace.

"Fuck, yes, Terry," You moaned, wrapping yourself around him, clinging to his skin and leaving scratches down his back.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it above your head, pressing his entire body weight against you.

"Fuck, you feel so good, and you look so damn beautiful; look at you, ahh fuck" Terry moans, kissing you first before pulling away to grip your waist tighter and watch your breasts bounce up and down.

You gripped his arms, letting out louder moans as he went faster, harder, and deeper than before.

"Tell me this is the best dick you've have ever had," He growled

"Ahh…this-this is the best dick I've ever had, Daddy," You cried out, making him smirk.

"You love this dick, don't you?" Terry asked, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot.

"Yes. daddy. I love it; I love it so much. Fuck, It feels so so good I'm gonna-! " You screamed, arching your back.

"Fuck, that's it. You're so fucking good, baby. Such a good girl, cum for me," He moans, kissing your lips, and without a doubt, you orgasmed fourth time tonight.

This one was gushing out of you, causing Terry to pull out and hit his dick against your sensitive pussy before continuing to thrust back in until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

Terry pulled you into a kiss and moaned your name. You loved hearing every sound he made; he thrusted once more and spilled into the condom, falling against you.

Both of you remained there, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his back as he kissed your neck and collarbone.

Terry rolls off of you, throws the condom away, and pulls you close to cuddle.

You caressed his cheek and gazed into his eyes; words were unnecessary. There was much to figure out, but that could wait because this moment was worth it.

[gooselycharm]

severance comic process write up (unasked for)

i finished season 1 of severance jan 24 and maybe by then NL had already begun his apple tv tirades. so maybe that's why i thought of the get it twisted speech? dont remember exactly but i was like wait......... this kinda fits...... and basically the images were forming in my head and i had to get them out. this is the best kind of inspiration to have. when it feels like you are afflicted with a life-threatening disease and the only cure is to draw pictures

i decided i wanted square panels and a black and white color scheme pretty early on. i wanted the pacing to feel kind of fast, so one line per page (basically i was trying to match the monologue). black and white also made sense because 1) i didn't want this to take 2 years like my last comic 2) fits theme of the show and the monologue rapidly whipping back and forth 3) i thought maybe i'd riso print this in the beginning and 1 color would be cheapest/easiest

the sketching phase was really smooth. it was like the images were in my mind already and just needed to be brought to life. my motivation was strong as well (i thought it was really funny and if no one liked it at least i really really liked it).

^ my sketches. most compositions made it to final without major edits. i did cut almost all of the last 8 because i didn't feel like I needed the moment to be dragged out so much AND i was getting pretty tired by that point lol.

one page i'm glad i changed was the ms casey one. the reason i changed it at first was because i thought it was too similar to the irving/burt one. and then i ended up really liking the new composition.

as i moved to final, i had a couple of inspirations in mind. i'm a huge fan of sophia foster-dimino's work, and in particular her sex fantasy comics

^ books/zines i looked at for inspiration. second image is a spread from sex fantasy #4.

i also was inspired by jennifer xiao's comics and how chootalks and nogoodwithcat handle linework and value

i was inspired by jennifer's pop up ads comic for this page. i like the humor in her work and wanted to bring an element of that into my comic.

i love these drawings by choo that showcase these eerie tableaus of desserts/cakes/hammers/etc! i was trying to evoke the same vibe with the two "get it twisted" pages with the stack of waffles.

also, just tons and tons of references taken from the show and stock images.

i pretty much just worked for two weeks straight until i finished. what unemployment does to a motherfucker. even though it's fanart and the words aren't mine, it's a pretty personal comic. i got suddenly laid off last fall which has made me feel all sorts of feelings, and then starting up my job search this year has been grueling. it kinda blows my mind that anyone expects you to love your job. i love my cat. i love the people important to me. i love moving my body and eating good food and listening to music and being out in nature. i love the color green. i dont love my fucking JOB lmfao!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! are you freaking CRAZY???????? literally do NOT get it twisted. but also please hire me. <- this dichotomy has been making me nuts

anyway. the reception to my comic has been mind blowing. people have said some insanely nice things. i also really appreciate anyone who's read and enjoyed the comic without knowledge of severance or northernlion LMAO honestly amazed and in disbelief.... ty so much..... it really means a lot!!!!!!!!!!

okay i ran out of things to say for now byeeeeeeeeeeee

[lost-romantique]

"We aren't a family, sir!"

"We aren't a family, sir! You are the boss! We are the employees!"

"Who's that?"

"Oh, her? That's just Loona. What a nightmare. Serious attitude problems... She'll be out of our hair next month when she ages out. Good riddance, if you ask me. She'll never amount to anything much."

"Fuck, Blitzo! Why can't you stay out of my face for, like, five minutes?!"

"Because, I adopted you! And that should mean something!"

"Oh, what does it matter?! You're not my real dad! I was almost eighteen!"

"It still counts!"

"Well, it shouldn't! I didn't need you then, asshole! I don't, now!"

"I love you, dad."

"Okay, not much of a talker, are you? I'm Blitzo, the "o" is silent. I'm sure we're going to get along just fine. So, what's your deal? What'd you do? Who'd you diddle? You look like someone good with a gun. You look like someone who could shoot up an office-"

"I'm just worried about Millie. She'll be on her way by now, I'm sure!"

"Ugh, she'll be fine, Moxxie. It would take a roided-up hippo to take down that woman when she's upset."

"We've never dealt with the human government before! She's in danger!"

"Do you ever honestly shut up about Millie?! It's always "Oh, how's Millie?" "I can't tonight. I'm hangin' with Millie!" "I'm so worried about Millie!" And she's ALWAYS... FIVE FUCKIN' FEET away from you! It's pathetic!"

"Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?"

"Not really..."

"I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgmental, but... you said that because I needed it... And it helped."

"Look, I'm hard on you, because I know what you're capable of, Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks except for... me, because, y'know, my opinion is correct, but just... keep doing a good job. 'Kay? You shoot 'n kill good, you escape things easy... you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to, aaaand don't expect any more compliments; I'm maxed out."

"Thank you, sir."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Someone with an eye for potential. Now you wanna keep working for peanuts, or do you want to shake things up?"

"I'm done. I don't wanna play ghost hunter with you, and I-"

"Uh, it's ghost-fuckers"

"I wasn't done! You know, I always love to have fun with you, and I ain't said boo to you moping around like a sad sack for weeks. But we have bills to pay... So look, you can go be pathetic and play sex ghosts, if that's what you need to do, but I gotta get this job done!"

"Fine! Who needs you anyway!? Bethany Ghost-Fucker works ALONE!"

"We're just Wrathians, Blitz. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for. It's why you hired me. Any demon good at making a buck is welcome in Lust or Greed, but here? Demons like us ain't cut out for this."

"Uh... fuck you!"

"What?"

"Millie, I have spent too much of my time, energy, and holes into setting this up for us to entertain your bullshit. I brought you into this company for a reason, okay? You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring..."

"Look. What I said earlier, you've just always been so unbothered by everything. Almost bulletproof and, I guess I never realized how much I depended on that. I didn't know how to react to you being reduced to…Bethany. But I should've respected you like you always do for me. I'm sorry."

"NO! Not them, Your Highness! It was me, it was all me, okay? Y-you can't expect to teach anyone a lesson by killing all of us!"

"You dare try to tell me how to PUNISH!?"

"Look, all that Hell is gonna see is you executing imps who are just trying to do their job! I'm the rogue here, not them!"

"Blitz, what are you doing?"

"Your Highness, please. Blitz just--"

"Moxxie, stop."

"Blitz, I can't let you-"

"This big red bitch never planned on hearing us out... Just... just take care of Loona for me."

"I love you, guys."

"Sir-sir, you're here!"

"Dad!"

"Don't you ever do that to me again, you fucking idiot!"

Moxxie was right, they are most definitely not a family. /sarcasm

[certified-bi]

Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.

1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...

2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.

Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.

3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.

4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.

5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.

Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.

[nottivagos]

HEY YOU! CMERE! Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Friday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: this was all brainstormed with the lovely @emchante & @orangeblossomsintheair,, love u both so much for giving me the confidence to make this a thing!! 💕

Introducing... Divorced Mechanic AU : DR3

Running a garage isn't easy, but when you're Mechanic!Daniel Ricciardo who's just freshly out of a divorce, it's even more tough. He's sexually pent up, frustrated that his wife left him, with the audacity of ostracising him from his kids, and now realising he has no one to fuck.

So when you, a ditzy receptionist, obviously only hired because of your looks and not your brains, you quickly become his next target. Deep down he knows it's wrong, very wrong. You're noticeably younger than he is, let alone anyone in the garage, but there's something about you that just pulls him in.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's uncaring about his looks. He hasn't got a wife to criticise him or impress anymore, so why should he give a fuck about his appearance? He's grown an unruly mullet, facial hair grown out more than usual whilst becoming slightly salt and peppered, the once baggy overalls hugging his stomach and muscles ever so much more tightly, showing off his large arms and new found softer belly. He's even now turned to smoking as an outlet to cope with the pent up stress the divorce brought him, which you've commented on out of concern, just to be met with a tensed jaw and an angry mutter about how you're "trying to fill the void of his wife".

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's actually the softest brute you've ever met. Despite his angry demeanor as he works in the garage, he'll always look over you. Large hands coming to rest on your shoulders out of the blue whilst your eyes are fixated on the computer, as he asks how you're doing, offering to help if necessary as he subconsciously kneeds the knots in your shoulder muscles. He's always there to defend you, no, protect you. Especially when you're teary eyed after a customer has shouted at you, calling you a "useless clutz". To the extent that he's grabbed the jerk by the collar of his shirt, twisting it as he tells them to scram with a snarl. The client scampers away, before he turns all his attention to you, large hands cupping your burning cheeks as he mutters his apologies, whilst asking if you're okay. You're speechless, the space between you suffocating as you appreciate his softer features up close for the first time. He really is like a caring bear. <3

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's sees you waiting in the rain for your bus after work, completely drenched and shivering. He pulls onto the side of the road, car window coming down as he signals for you to get into the car with a caring grunt. You happily comply, as you say your "thank yous" to him for his kindness. He responds with another grunt, the car eerily quiet. That's when you see a tattoo on his arm with the name of a woman on it. You ask who the woman is, and his jaw locks into place, grip on the steering wheel tighter than it was originally. That must be the ex wife. You ask him if he misses her, to which he replies with a grind of his teeth before glancing at you briefly, muttering a "fuck no" underneath his breath. You apologise multiple times, not realising how much of a sore subject it is to him. He responds with a gentle hand resting on your thigh, reassuring that's it's all good. He then goes onto telling you about his kids who he rarely sees because of the divorce, and in that moment you see a softness that you'd never seen in the mechanic before.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who's spoilt by your baking. As a result of his kindness in driving you home, you bake him a sweet treat as a way to say thank you. He grumbles a "you didn't have to" as he examines the cakes in the tupperware, but his eyes are soft and thankful for the gift. It then becomes a normality that you bake him a sweet treat for the end of the week, the tradition becoming known as "Cake Friday" in the workshop. <3

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who snaps at you after suggesting he turns his loud divorced dad rock down during a very stressful day in the workshop. He bellows in your face that it'll "be the best music you've ever heard" whilst working there, leaving you upset and silent as a result. He gets a pang of guilt after this, coming back over to the desk to apologise, offering you the AUX tomorrow as a way to say sorry, reassuring you that your colleagues will have a "talking to" if they criticise what you play all day.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny that pounds into you angrily after you mess up for the millionth time this week, fucking you dumb because that's what he only thinks you're made for, as he grunts insults into your ear gruffly. The soft tummy he's formed as a result of the divorce acting like a cushion against his relentless thrusts whilst he calls you "the pretty little receptionist that makes a good fuck".

Divorced Mechanic!Danny that notices that you're significantly on edge one day. He offers if you want to share a smoke with him. You reluctantly accept, knowing you'd never smoked before. He lights up the cigarette, passing it over to you with a smirk. You take a puff, choking on the burning sensation of the strong tobacco, as you quickly give it back to him with a disgusted wrinkle of your nose. He chuckles, before taking another drag, pressing a hot kiss onto your lips as he passes the smoke into your mouth, with a soft groan. He then promises you he'll teach you how to take your cigarettes better in the future before patting your shoulder and walking off leaving you shunned and breathless, before stubbing out the nub with his boot.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny with a spit kink. He forcefully grabs your jaw with his large hand, forcing you to open your mouth, followed by his lips harshly kissing your's. He spits into your mouth before abruptly pulling away, your cheeks a burning crimson from the abruptness of the assault on your mouth, before he mutters into your ear that "that's all you were good for" to him.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny that has no control over himself around you. On one certain occasion he's more of a brute than usual, his anger overflowing as he assaulted you with might, leaving you bruised and swollen. After that, he doesn't hear a peep out of you all day. Feeling concerned, his angry exterior crumbles, his tone gentler as his soft tummy presses against your front, asking if he'd done something wrong, trying to coax the truth out of you. Little does he know the distance between your bodies is driving you insane, unable to make eye contact with him as you grow increasingly horny.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who lets you feed him cake on his birthday. Straddling his lap, his oil stained white vest rides up his chest slightly, revealing his happy trail and softer tummy. You spoon feed him some cake, allowing the crumbs to collect around his mouth before licking them off the corners of his mouth with a smirk, before pressing a soft kiss on his lips, whispering in his ear "happy birthday" in that sweet, sultry voice you know makes him go crazy. This has the right effect on him, as he's ready to cum right there in his boxers like a teen again.

Divorced Mechanic!Danny who teases your cunt with a wrench as he has you bent over a client's car, calling you all sorts of degrading names, making sure you know your place after making him horny all day because you wore something revealing innocently because the AC wasn't working in the reception area.

Soft sex with Divorced Mechanic!Danny which is beautifully different to your typical type of sex with him. Soft praises mumbled through breathy pants as you both appreciate each other's bodies, hands trailing ever so softly over each other's flesh. In that moment, Danny realises that he can appreciate the soft, intimate parts to sex again, his cracks becoming more clearer. Your hands gliding into his unkempt mullet, appreciating the soft curls as he thrusts his hips up gently, enjoying the slowness of your love making for once.

i feel like i might've forgotten a few things but i'm honestly so overwhelmed with ideas for this AU that i could write for years...

[unstable-samurai]

Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut

Momo x Male Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial

She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on an emergency light in his mind.

Normally he was the owl of that house.

“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.

No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.

He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.

"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can watch it with you.”

“Did you have fun there?” she asked.

"Yes. Was cool."

“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”

"Just that?

"Yes..."

"No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.

Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.

She paused the movie.

“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”

“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.

“Yes it does, you bastard.”

“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”

“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”

“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”

“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”

“Are you high or what?”

He was too tired to read the signs.

“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.

“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”

"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”

The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.

“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you know what was going on at the party?”

Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:

“Are you afraid?”

"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”

"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also watch the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”

‡

Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.

The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.

‡

“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”

“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”

“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."

“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”

“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”

A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.

“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cellphone to check the time. What is your problem?"

Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.

“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”

"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”

"This again?!”

“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”

“Who was this damn person?”

“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”

“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”

“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”

“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”

"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.

"You know what I want."

“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”

“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, idiot.”

If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.

‡

Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.

Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.

The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.

He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.

“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"

Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”

"I am well thanks."

She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.

"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.

“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”

"Cool! What is it about?!"

How the hell was he going to explain this?

“About a guy living in Paris.”

"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”

"How old are you?"

“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”

Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.

‡

“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said

Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?

“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”

“No” he lied to one of the questions.

“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”

Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.

“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.

“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”

"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”

With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:

“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”

‡

He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.

“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”

"What are you talking about?"

He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.

“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”

"Here?"

"Now!”

Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.

“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”

There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.

“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”

Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.

He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..

“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.

The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.

‡

“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”

She smiled satisfied.

"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”

It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.

"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”

Momo kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.

“And yet you hurt me.”

He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.

“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”

“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”

Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.

Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.

“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”

‡

He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.

“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”

At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.

“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.

He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.

Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.

Something he didn't do.

Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).

“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”

“On your tits.”

It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...

Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.

“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”

“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.

And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.

Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’

‡

It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.

If you really deserve it.

"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."

The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.

"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."

"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."

"I was happy to be with you too."

"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."

"I was a little confused at that time."

"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"

"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”

"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"

"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."

"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."

"We always fix things."

"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."

"Come here, my love" he said.

A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖

[devotedfem]

∞ Alien

Synopsis: You were hired by a new lab under the city, it was a confidential and remote workplace. You expected anything but an humanoid Alien trapped in the lab, one who always snarls when you do as much as getting away.

M. Yoongi x f. reader

Genre: Alien au | yander-ish.

Tags: Clingy Yoongi, Alien Yoongi, secret lab, monster love, captivity, yandere Yoongi, Yoongi is pretty soft but dangerous.

Patreon for extra content.

From the series; otherworldly.

Navigation Masterlist.

Your heels made a clicking sound on the floor, the hallway was empty and immerse in deep silence and stillness, you can hear a pin drop. The lights were flickering above you, turning the place into a horror movie scene.

You gulped hard ignoring your train of thoughts, it wasn't the moment to be afraid of a creepy hallway, not when you're about to meet a hidden and otherworldly creature under the grounds of the city. This lab was confidential, you saw the job offer in an odd website.

If you were honest, it was a bit weird and shady the fact that you were hired immediately after applying for the job. But you didn't beat around the bush and instead you have prepared yourself for your first day in your job. After all you needed the money, you were unemployed for a couple of weeks and you have to pay your bills and rent. So it doesn’t matter if they’re literally hiding a monster under here, as long as they pay you, you won’t bat an eye.

You entered the door that says: For employees only.

A professional smile curled on your lips but faltered when you were greeted by a dark and empty lab.

“Good morning.”

You startled with a scream, turning around to see an old man watching you with disinterest.

“Oh sorry, good mor-“

“Follow me,” he interrupted you, not looking at you before turning around walking away. You blinked surprised at his rudeness, but following him nonetheless.

He stopped in front of what seemed like a large display glass box that has someone inside. You tilted your head and narrowed your eyes watching a stranger curled up in the corner of the glass box, you were about to ask who was him but you stopped when you realized with horror that the old man leaved you there alone.

You took a deep breath, watching your surrounds before walking closer to the glass box, noticing the curled man hiding his face between his knees. You tap the glass with your knuckles to get his attention, but he didn’t even flinch.

You turned your head around looking for the old man, you didn’t know why the fuck you were there and what are you supposed to do. When you turned to the strange man again, you screamed at the top of your lungs, taking hurried steps back at the sight before you. There was a creature man-alike, with pitch black orbs fixated on you and two large horns coming out from his head. He has claws for nails, pressing them against the glass. He watched you with his head tilted to the side, almost with curiosity.

Your fear dissipates at the realization that he can’t harm you. He was just a creature trapped here with you, maybe against his will. You felt a pang of pity at the thought.

“Hi, I’m y/n… do you have a name?” You asked softly, walking closer to him again.

He blinked his pitch-black orbs, frowning at your words. He only shook his head at you, with a hint of sadness in his expression.

“That’s okay, I’ll call you… Yoongi! Do you like it?”

The creature smiled with big fangs, nodding his head like a child. From that moment you had a soft spot for him, Yoongi, the poor and sweet creature trapped under the city.

Yoongi and you became inseparable, he always looked so happy every time you visit him, trying so hard to communicate with you even when he barely speaks your language. The problem was, that he grew clingy to you. Your co-workers said that he acted with violence every time you don’t come to see him, so it was becoming an issue, because before you got the job he was well behaved. That’s why your boss chose to fire you, for the good of the creature and your safety. A clingy alien can be a danger, according to his words.

Your lips curled down with sadness, you will miss Yoongi so bad, but as your ex-boss said it was for the best. You didn’t feel comfortable with the fact that Yoongi developed a codependency towards you.

But you needed to say goodbye to him, even if you’re going against your superiors’ orders.

“Yoongi!” You greet him in a whisper shout, making him turn around quickly with wide eyes and smile.

He glued himself to the glass, trying to be closer to you, making your heart tighten with pity and guilt.

“I came here to say goodbye, pretty boy,” you whispered softly, placing your palm against the glass.

Yoongi’s smile fell at your words, his brows knitted with confusion and anger. He shook his head violently, snarling at you.

You blinked with surprise, taking some steps back at his aggressive reaction.

And then he broke the glass down, making the alarms blaze thunderously and the place turn red.

The shattered pieces of glass hurt your skin, and the screams of people dying by Yoongi’s hands combined with the alarms made your ears ring.

Everything was spinning around you, until there was a deep hush.

You flinched with fear when you were carried in bridal style by Yoongi, you blinked wrapping your arms around his neck, afraid of falling into the shattered glass and hurting again.

You felt Yoongi purring at your action, tightening his grip on your body and carrying you away from the lab.

The last thing you watched before passing out were two dark orbs pierced at you, and two large horns shining at the sky light.

And then you were going Up, up and up.

[blorbocedes]

For the trope mash-up: didnt mean to turn you on + innocent physical touch for franco 'milf-hunter' colapinto and checo/lewis

okay hear me out. what if checo was a woman instead 🤭🫣

Checo's had a fucking year.

The car is shit. She's been saying for so long but now they finally believe it as even Redbull’s wunderkind Max struggles in it. Every other interview, news cycle is about her retiring, her being unceremoniously kicked out as drivers salivate for her seat, her middling performance due to early pre-menopausal hormones? Just 2 years ago, she was the Mexican Queen of Defense, and now it's 'is she Redbull’s DEI hire?' The stories have become outlandish, announcing her second pregnancy and retirement at Mexican Grand Prix. That's why after Daniel, who had very clearly been brought in to replace her, was switched mid season she posted the Wolf of Wall Street clip on her instagram to make it clear: I’m not fucking leaving.

So forgive her if she's been seeking a little respite elsewhere.

There's a hot, young Argentine at Williams that's been eyeing her. Checo’s a woman on the F1 grid, she's been eyed like that thousands of times, most of it unwanted. Although, it fell off after she birthed the twins and her tits never returned to their glory days. So it's a little flattering reminder she's still got it. Being able to speak in the same language also helps, not having to translate everything for doublespeak. They have rapport.

“How old are you?” Checo asks at the club. She's not there to celebrate, she just needs a drink. Franco’s at the stage where finishing a race is cause for celebration.

“Twenty five.” Franco replies in her ear entirely too quickly, with a grin.

Checo raised an eyebrow. She didn't keep track of the rookies but she sure as hell knew they weren't doing twenty five year old rookies anymore.

A group of tourists seem to recognize her, probably fans and she's in no autographing mood so she pulls Franco in closer in front of her, to block her five foot four self from the world. He misreads the signal, but is all too happy to step in closer; personal space be damned.

“Okay. I lied. I didn't want to freak you out.” Franco confesses sheepishly.

Checo drinks her whiskey, assessing it. “I was winning karting races while you were in diapers, yes?”

It makes her feel old just saying it. She doesn't know how Fernando does it.

Franco nods, pupils going dark.

“And…” she raises her left hand, eyes pointing to her wedding ring.

Franco smirks. “I don't mind if you don't.” He leans in for the kiss, and Checo leans back denying him. Too public. She's learned from that mistake. She does put her left hand on his nape, stroking it and praising the boldness. It's dangerous, sleeping with another driver. When you're a woman, it gives them too much power. That's why Checo never acted on Max's obvious interest. But Franco doesn't have a seat next year yet... as temporary and harmless to her prospects as it gets.

“Come on,” Franco’s voice betrays the frustration underneath the trying hard to be suave, “I know you're thinking it too. You'd rather be on a boat with me than this totally lame club. And what I might lack in experience, I can make up for in stamina.” He practically purrs in her ear.

“A boat? Williams is not paying you that much.” Checo laughs, even as she entertains the line about stamina. James is a penny pincher to a fault. And Franco might get F1 groupies impressed with that line, but as the primary breadwinner she knows a little better.

Franco’s undeterred. “Your boat then. I can be your yacht boy.”

Now wouldn't Checo love to be sunning on a boat, no kids running around, being waited on hand and foot by an eager, younger man who can go for round two in ten minutes. God, she hasn't been filled up in a satisfying way in so long, her cunt throbs at the fantasy, aided by the tall, warm body in front of her.

Checo bites her lower lip, and looks around. Nobody around them in paying attention to the dark corner they're in anymore. She takes Franco’s hand and places it over her breast, holding his gaze. For all his smooth-talking, Franco seems momentarily stunned, mouth parting in surprise. He has naturally red lips, Checo wants to bite on it. He tentatively squeezes her breast, and after seeing her nod, starts kneading it, thumb trying to find her nipple through the layers of her polo shirt and sports bra.

“Can I please eat you?” Franco’s voice is husky as he begs.

[allthingsfangirl101]

A Different Kind of Client Part 2 – Gary Johnson

Part 1

Gary's POV

It's been three days since I ignored my boss' orders and continued working on Y/N's case. Y/N and I have continued to plan things. The more I hear about their relationship, the more I despise this guy.

How could he treat her like she's nothing? Y/N's incredible. She's funny. She's sweet. She's beautiful.

Over these last few days, Y/N and I have spent too much time together. We've met up for lunch every day and she constantly texts me whenever he gets home from work. Every part of me knows I shouldn't be getting close to a client, but there was something about Y/N. . .

My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed something weird in Y/N's husband's financials.

"No way," I mumbled. "The son of a bitch has a secret bank account. The bastard is keeping money from Y/N. This piece of shit is going to lose everything."

I was currently working around the security at the bank and making sure Y/N had access to her husband's financials when I was interrupted by my phone. I ignored the feeling I got when I saw that Y/N was calling me.

"Hey," I answered, "good timing. I need to ask you about. . ."

"Gary!"

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up straighter. I ignored the feeling of my heart jumping into my throat. "Y/N, where are you?"

"I'm at home," she said, her voice shaky. "Joey is on his way home and. . . He just called me. . . He's really angry, Gary. I have no idea why. Do you. . . Do you think he found out about you. . . About me hiring you. . . Oh my. . . What do I do, Gary? He gets extremely violent when he's angry. And if he's drunk. . ."

"First of all," I said, oddly calm, "breathe. I'm on my way. What I need you to do is lock yourself into the bathroom."

"The bathroom?" She stuttered.

"Yes," I said as I quickly slipped on my shoes, grabbed my keys, and ran out to my car. "It will be harder for him to get around the lock on the door."

"What if he. . ."

"I am on my way," I repeated when she didn't continue. "I will be there as soon as I can."

"Gary?" She said, her voice extremely broken. "I'm scared."

"I know," I sighed as I got in my car. "And that's okay. I'm on my way right now. I will be there soon."

"Please hurry."

I hung up the phone and tore out of my parking spot. I went well above the speed limit, wanting to get to Y/N's house as fast as I could. As soon as I got there, I ran into Y/N's house.

"Joey, please. . ."

I sped up the stairs when I heard her yelp.

"I'm only going to ask one more time. Who are you spending so much time. . ."

I completely forgot my training when I saw Y/N's husband had her pushed up against the wall with his hands around her neck. He was suffocating her.

"Get off of her!"

Y/N's eyes widened when she looked around her husband and saw me in the doorway.

"Who the fuck are you?" Her husband scoffed. He rolled his eyes as he turned back to Y/N. "This doesn't concern you, asshole. This is between me and my wife. Unless. . ."

I held my breath when he looked back at me. "This must be the guy you're cheating on me with."

"No," Y/N gasped. "It's not like that. This is. . ."

Y/N let out a small gasp of pain as he tightened his hold on her neck. I ran toward them, grabbed her husband's shoulders, and tore him away from her. I didn't have time to see the shock on Y/N's face as I got between him and her.

My anger took over when Joey tried to get back up. I grabbed him again and threw him back down. This time, I was on top of him and landed punch after punch.

"Gary?"

It was her voice that made me snap out of it. I stood up and tried to calm down before turning toward Y/N. The second I was facing her, she tucked into my chest. I let out a shaky breath as I wrapped my arms around her.

I looked down at her husband passed out on the floor. That protective feeling came back as I felt Y/N shake in my arms.

"Let's get you out of here," I whispered. With my arms still around her, I escorted her out. She didn't stop shaking as I led her out of her house and toward my car.

I opened the car door for her and she silently got in. When I got into the driver's seat, she was bouncing her knee nervously. Without thinking, I reached over and grabbed her hand.

"It's okay," I tried to soothe her. "You're safe."

"Am I?"

I turned toward her and lowered my voice. "Of course, you are, Y/N," I said urgently. "I am not going to let anything happen to you."

She smiled weakly at me, but it didn't reach her eyes. After looking at her for another moment, I shifted in my seat and turned on my car. Y/N leaned her head back as I pulled away from her house. I glanced over a few minutes later and saw Y/N with her eyes closed. My heart sank when I saw the tears streaming down her face.

I looked back at the street, my hands tightening around the steering wheel. I forced myself to calm down but I kept thinking about how it looked when Joey had Y/N pushed up against the wall, his hands around her neck.

Soon, we pulled up to my apartment. I put the car in park and got out, jogging around to her side. She had a small smile on her face when I opened the door for her. I kept close to her as we walked through the building.

I didn't relax until I had unlocked my apartment and let Y/N go inside first. I shut the door behind us and didn't hesitate to lock it. A smile formed on my face when Y/N relaxed.

I noticed myself holding my breath as she walked around, slowly taking my apartment in. I instantly noticed how tense her shoulders were as she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. I opened my mouth to tell her she could take the bed and I'd take the couch, but she beat me to it.

"I shouldn't be here," she mumbled to herself. Her statement made my heart drop.

"You can't go home, Y/N," I said gently.

"I know that," she stuttered as she looked up at me. "But I shouldn't be here."

"Why not?" I asked, taking a step closer to her.

"Because," she whispered, "I hired you to kill my husband."

"I like to see it as you hired me to protect you from your husband," I smirked. "And I messed up and broke my number one rule."

"What rule?"

I pulled her into my chest, tightening my arms around her. "Never fall for a client."

I leaned down and gently pressed my lips to hers, giving her every chance to pull away. I felt everything in me relax when Y/N started kissing me back. Neither one of us held back as I wrapped my arms around her waist and she slid her hands up my chest.

Things started to speed up between us and neither one of us slowed things down. Our lips moved roughly in sync and our bodies were smushed as close together as they could be. I ran my fingers through her hair as Y/N started unbuttoning my shirt.

Something must have clicked in Y/N's head because she gasped and pushed me off of her.

"No," she started to panic. "No. No. No. What are we. . . We can't. . . I'm still married and you're the guy I hired to. . ."

"And once I finish the job, we can be together," I smirked as I pulled her into my chest.

"Gary," she stuttered, "isn't this a bit wrong?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "But there is nothing connecting us."

"We've been texting each other," she said slowly.

"True," I said slowly. "But it just looks like you're talking to a cop."

"Wait, what?" She gasped as she took a step out of my arms. "A cop?"

"Yeah," I hesitated. I was suddenly hit with the urge to tell her the truth. The entire truth. "If anyone gets suspicious, I have a fake persona set up as a cop and you have reached out to me because you think your husband's financials have been weird, which by the way there is something weird in his financials."

"There is?"

I grabbed her hand and led her over to the couch. We sat down, a little too close but I didn't care.

"I was looking into your husband's financials and he has a completely different account that you aren't listed on."

My heart sank as Y/N connected the dots. "He's been. . . That's. . . Why would he. . ."

"I looked into it more," I said when she didn't finish her thought. "Y/N, it's not just a secret account. He is stealing money from his company. If we're careful about this, I won't have to kill him. We could get him arrested."

The look in Y/N's eyes changed. "You want to have him arrested, not killed?"

I froze when I realized what she was asking. It was true. Instead of setting her up for hiring someone to kill her husband, I was trying to find something I could use to arrest her husband for real.

"Well, yeah," I shrugged. Instead of telling her the truth, I told her how I felt. "With what into, there is always the risk that it will point back to you. I'm not willing to take that risk this time. This time, I want to go about this the right way. If we do it the right way, nothing happens to you."

"Gary," she stuttered. I grabbed her hand and scooted closer to her. I looked down and saw bruises forming around her perfect neck. I reached up and gently glided my finger against them.

"You deserve a guy who would never lay a hand on his girl," I said, my voice darkening. "You deserve a guy who would lay a hand on a guy who looked at his girl the wrong way."

"And you're that kind of guy?" She asked, her voice dropping as she leaned in.

I leaned in too and pressed my lips to hers. I heard her let out a soft moan as our lips moved in sync. Things got carried away again as I laid her down, hovering over her. I broke the kiss, both of us out of breath.

"I'm exactly that kind of guy."

Taglist:

@djs8891

@lonelysoul50

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"IS THERE SOMETHING I CAN HELP YOU WITH?"

Another story with Sergei 🖤

I hope you like it! 😌🤍

Sergei watches as Dimitri takes another glass of whiskey while he sketches an amused smile. It's his birthday, and of course he's not going to let his bad relationship with his father ruin their evening. He should tell him to stop drinking, but Dima was already a grown man, so he knew when to stop.

The place he had chosen to celebrate his birthday was an elegant place, a restaurant with live music where he usually sings several times accompanied by the piano.

Sergei takes a long drink from his glass of vodka and looks around at the people, until he finds her.

He has been observing him all night, he doesn't know if it's because he had caught his attention, or because it was strange to see someone like him there.

The truth is that the hunter felt out of place in that kind of place. He preferred to be in a burger joint, whose health guarantees were questionable, but instead he was there. It was his brother's birthday, and if he wanted to celebrate it there it would be for a reason.

The girl held his gaze as she brought her lips closer to her glass to take a sip of the drink. Sergei didn't blink, his eyes locked firmly on hers. There was something familiar about her. No, familiar isn't the word he would use, more like special, something that made him unable to look away.

"Fuck, get a room," Dimitri laughed at his side watching the exchange of glances between his brother and the stranger.

Sergei looked away from her to smile half-heartedly at the birthday boy.

-You've had too much to drink, Dima - she said, taking the glass with the remaining alcohol away from him - I'll take you home

-It's okay, I can go alone - he said, standing up unsteadily-

-Dimitri… - Sergei murmured, holding him by the elbow so he wouldn't fall, he made a gesture with his hand-

-I'm fine, brother - he nodded his head in the direction of the girl - go talk to her

-Do you know her? - she asked, he shrugged his shoulders-

-Maybe so - a silly smile appeared on his lips - or maybe not

-It's very funny, let me take you home - she smiled, taking his jacket-

-No way, you stay. You have better things to do than take care of a drunk like me - he muttered - the driver will take me home

-Do you trust him?

-No, but our father hired him - he shook his head - and you know how he handles things when he wants to protect his investments

Sergei nodded and walked him to the door.

-Send me a message when you get home - he ordered -

-I will - he assured - thanks for spending the day with me - he added - I had no one else to call

Sergei felt his heart sink when he heard Dimitri say something so sad and deep. He put his hand on his shoulder, and made him look at him intently.

-I'm your brother, Dima - he whispered - I'll always be here for you if you need me - he assured her - don't hesitate to call me any other day to chat for a while - he gestured towards the place - I love this place

-It's not true

-Yes it is

-No - he said laughing - you're just saying that to make me feel better

-Maybe yes, or maybe not - Sergei replied imitating his phrase from before - see you later, little brother

-Goodbye - he said leaving the place -

Sergei went out and saw him get into the car. Then he turned the corner disappearing from her sight.

It was then that he re-entered the restaurant. He slowly approached the bar where she was sitting until he was next to her.

-I've seen how you were watching me - he said looking at her out of the corner - Is there something I can help you with?

A smile appeared on her red painted lips, before she turned towards him.

-Don't worry hunter, I'm not here for you -she whispered flirtatiously-

-Is that so? -he questioned- And why are you here?

-Can't a girl have a drink at the first fancy restaurant she sees?

-This isn't the first fancy restaurant you've seen- he repeated- on this same sidewalk there are three other more luxurious establishments. However, you decided to come here -she put her hands on her knees- I want to know why

She took a quick sip of her drink. Sergei could see how the vein in her neck was throbbing rapidly. She was nervous, although she hid it very well, he was able to see it due to his skills.

-I need your help - she confessed, he smiled triumphantly - don't make me regret coming

-Чем я могу помочь тебе, дорогая? (How can I help you, darling?) - he asked in his native language -

-Мне нужно, чтобы ты нашел мне кого-нибудь (I need you to find someone for me) - she answered in the same language, he smiled -

-You speak Russian - he observed, looking at her carefully - tell me, who are you looking for?

-Mikhail Savalenko - she answered - is a…

-I know who he is - she interrupted him delicately - a trafficker of weapons, animals and everything that could be of benefit to his pocket. The worst of the worst - he murmured, looking at her firmly, his eyes shining in an amber tone - What do you want me to do with him?

-Hunt him - she answered decisively - that's what you do, isn't it?

He watched her a few moments with a thoughtful expression.

-To finish off a criminal like him and therefore his entire network will cost you dearly - he warned-

-Money is not a problem - he assured her - I will pay you 600,000 now and another 600,000 when we finish the job

-Excuse me, we? - he questioned looking at her with wide eyes - you are not coming, honey. I work alone

-Not in this case - she retorted - if you want the money, you will do exactly what I tell you to do

-I am not good at following orders - he sketched a half-smile - it is not my style

-Do you want the money or not? - she asked, and for the first time the hunter was speechless- I thought so- she murmured, bending down to pick up a black sports bag that was under her feet, she gave it to him and when she opened it she saw that it was full of bills- you don't have to count them, I wouldn't lie to you- she said- besides I wouldn't like to get on your list like that

-Do you want to get on my list? - he asked, and the way he asked it made a shiver run through her body-

She smiled, finishing her drink

-It's possible- she added-

-For that I need to know your name- he murmured in a low voice-

-Vanya Ivanof- he introduced himself-

He took a leather-covered notebook out of his pants pocket and wrote his name with the help of a pen in a special place, separate from the names of his next victims. He also wrote the name of the drug dealer so he would have it written down.

-Done –he announced putting it away again- nice doing business with you –he said- I just have one more question –he promised- I know there's something you're not telling me –he whispered- I won't pressure you to do it, but earlier when you looked at me, you showed your real eyes –he smiled- a beautiful red, by the way

-Shit –he growled looking to both sides nervously- What if someone else saw it?

-They haven't seen it –he assured-

-How do you know?

-Because I'm like you –he whispered holding her gaze- your eyes… -he murmured thinking out loud- What…?

-Robin –Vanya intervened- And you?

-Lion –he said while watching her- wait –he frowned- Does that mean that…?

-Yes I can fly, no I don't eat worms, I can hear and see things that are miles away –he interrupted, shook his head- sorry, it's the custom. People always ask me the same questions.

-It's okay, he reassured her, but I was going to ask how does flying work? Do you get wings or…?

-I turn into a robin, -he confessed, turning the same color as the bird- Shit, how embarrassing, it sounded better in my head.

-Don't be embarrassed, I've never heard of anyone being able to do that before, he replied, reassuring her. I wish I could turn into a lion, or any animal, he admitted, making her smile more relaxed.-When do we start?

-Tomorrow at eight at the Preacher polygon, he said, we'll go after that bastard.

-Okay, boss, you're the one in charge, he smiled.-Let's hunt that son of a bitch.

[toomuchracket]

if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop. 

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes. 

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

[nelkcats]

And they were roommates

After years of living on his own in the Infinite Realms, something strange began to happen to the retired hero. Every time Danny closed his eyes to sleep, a life that was not his own played in his head. And he began to see memories of someone who had passed away, from his birth to his death. That would be fine if he didn't remember the dreams in such detail.

Unfortunately when the first dream kept repeating itself continuously, and Danny investigated, he discovered that it was not a normal nightmare and was the life of someone real. Someone who wanted a closure.

Every time he woke up, he found himself feeling the same as in the dream. Which led him to do a couple of things: yell at Nocturne (who strangely had nothing to do with it), annoy Clockwork (who was definitely involved), and solve crimes that had been deemed "impossible", and bring them to an appropriate end.

The police were extremely confused when a note from "Sleepy King" was next to the evidence of a cold case. The truth is that Danny wanted to sleep, and the souls were extremely insistent about their 'unfinished business' that came to haunt him in his sleep.

Every time he cracked a case he earned a few hours of uninterrupted sleep or downright disturbing memories, but that wasn't enough. Unfortunately, it seemed that solving the cases was only attracting more souls, and he was starting to regret wanting to help. He had ended his life as a hero for a reason.

Usually his notes to the police would say something along the lines of "I'm doing this for me, not for you, good night" or some similar nonsense. The halfa was tired, very very tired, dreaming with memories wasn't fun or pretty, it was exhausting, the deaths made his skin crawl and his insomnia worse. He didn't want to relive the deaths of anyone else, but he had no way to scare away the souls.

When Martha Wayne showed up in his dreams showing him about a "court of owls" Danny made up his mind. This had to stop. He had been a hero but he retired. And it wasn't that he hated the souls, he just wanted to sleep, the mental exhaustion was too much.

So he did the stupidest thing possible: he hired Constantine (pretending to be a fairly normal human client, getting his attention after offering a lot of alcohol and some useless books from the Realms as payment) to make him a dream catcher or some wizard thing. All he wanted was something to help him sleep.

Constantine couldn't do that of course. The hellbazer was disturbed by the man with more than three hundred avenging spirits swarming. That was fucked up. So he offered him the only solution he could think of: inviting him to sleep at his house. A place where spirits could not pass without permission. It wasn't a permanent fix, but it would work for a while.

John had no idea why he was doing so much for a client (inviting him to his house? bold move), but the man looked so desperate, and he was fucking cute. If he could get an adventure or two out of it he wouldn't complain.

Constantine's guest bed felt like heaven to the halfa, despite being almost destroyed. Danny repeatedly thanked, and before they both knew it: they were roomies, lived in the same place, took turns cooking or cleaning, etc. They grew comfortable with each other to the point that Danny answered Justice League Dark's calls on a few occasions.

And well, if Constantine stopped rushing to find a long-term solution that was his business, and his alone, okay? Zatanna's comment asking when he got married was fucking out of place.

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

[ssentimentals]

thank you for rebloging the prompt list! could I request for 46 with seungcheol wonwoo & soonyoung? if that's too many, then you can pick 1!!! thank you again 🤍

always welcome, bebe!💜 thanks for the request, i'm going to pick one if you don't mind! hopefully you will like it, let me know!

46. kiss out of envy or jealousy (kwon soonyoung)

there's something about picking you up and driving you around that is so dear and important to soonyoung, he can't quite explain it. he finds it weirdly intimate to wait for you with a car door opened, hug you tight, plant a kiss on your forehead and gently close the door for you before taking his own seat behind the steering wheel. he loves letting you choose music, finds peace in locking your hands together and listening how was your day. it's your moment together, the one he cherishes so much and that's why right now his mood is sour and spoiled. and he knows reason for it is stupid and makes no sense but god fucking dammit-

'and he's really nice, you know!' you continue, completely oblivious to your boyfriend's inner turmoil. 'honestly, after having horrible colleagues from finance department, i'm just so happy that they finally hired someone so nice, he really is a jackpot!'

'jackpot, huh,' soonyoung mutters, not being able to hide disdain in his tone.

'he really is!' your excitement would've been cute if wasn't about some other guy. 'my god, you should've seen how all girls started acting the second they saw him, it was hilarious! he's really handsome, so now he's the main talk in our office.'

and soonyoung is usually always there to hype your excitement even more. nothing makes him happier than seeing you full of joy, but he can't for the life of him even fake a smile right now because how are you spoiling this precious moment together gushing about another guy?!

'so you have a new guy in finance department, who is smart and nice to you and on top of that he's very handsome, am i correct?' soonyoung recites in a calm tone. you turn to him, finally sensing that something is off. 'and i have one more thing i wanna ask, is he single?' at your nod, he grits his teeth and continues: 'and i am right now driving you to the dinner with the said guy, correct?'

'it's a company dinner,' you correct, confused at his clipped tone. 'everyone is going to be there.'

soonyoung shrugs it off. 'cool, cool. everyone is going to be there, cool. one more question - does that new guy from finance department who apparently is smart, nice to you and very handsome and who is single.. does he know that you are very much not single?'

your mouth parts slightly and you stare at him like he's grown two heads. honestly, soonyoung is not above being incredibly petty and childish, so he simply stares back at you, waiting for an answer. 'i- uh, no? i mean, it's not like i introduced myself and immediately told him that i have a boyfriend. he didn't ask and, i mean, it's a rather personal information-'

'so he doesn't know,' soonyoung concludes, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white. 'cool, cool. i'm walking you to that restaurant, honey. gotta say hi to all your co-workers.'

there's beat of silence and then- 'kwon soonyoung, are you jealous right now?' you stare at him with wide eyes. 'about some guy at work? seriously?'

'about some guy at work who apparently is a jackpot and who is so handsome that you can't stop talking about him for the whole car ride, when it's supposed to be our time!'

that came out way more petulant than he wanted, but soonyoung only rolls his eyes and stares ahead, not sparing you a glance. he knows he's pouting too, can't stop it, he barely holds himself back from angrily stomping too. soonyoung just wants this time to be only about you and him, is it really that bad?

'oh, silly boy,' you whisper and lean closer, rubbing his shoulder with your hand. 'you've got nothing to be jealous about. i have the most awesome boyfriend and no one comes close to him, okay?'

and - okay, it does make him feel better. he turns to you, still pouting and melts at the sight of your fond expression. 'let me kiss you in front of everyone.'

you chuckle and nod. 'do it, loverboy.'

and he does. right after waving hello to all of your co-workers, after meeting the said finance guy, he turns to go and when you step closer to say bye, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in. the kiss is very not work-friendly, but soonyoung doesn't care, not when he hears your quiet gasp, not when your pillowy soft lips kiss him back.

'now he knows you have a boyfriend,' he whispers into your mouth when you both lean back.

'idiot,' you mutter affectionately, stepping away.

'your idiot,' he confronts with a wide smile.

'my best idiot,' you answer before turning and going back to your co-workers.