#and michael was immediately like yeah sure whatever you say

[starthelostboys]

michael gives into peer pressure so easily it took like two seconds of convincing for him to jump off a bridge

[allaboutsturns]

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

matthew sturniolo x reader

content/warning(s): angst, fluff, arguing, swearing, kissing.

summary: you and matt get into an argument after you guys go too long without communication. harsh things are said but in the end you guys work it out and listen to each other.

Don't cry, or do whatever makes you comfortable

I'm tired too.

you looked at matt who sighed for the fifth time within ten minutes, finally deciding to ask him what was wrong, "are you okay, baby?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed slightly. your boyfriend looked over at you and shrugged, "fine." he muttered out the single word and you tilted your head at his dismissive attitude.

"don't seem fine." you said under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear not exactly what you said but that you had said something, "huh?" he asked, now facing you on the couch. you shrugged in response.

he rolled his eyes in your direction but you ignored it and looked away, crossing your arms over your chest. "god you are so annoying, y/n. i don't know why you're acting like this right now. can we not?" you felt your heart pang as the words repeated in your head, 'god you are so annoying, y/n.'

you turned your body to face your boyfriend whom you loved so entirely, "annoying?" you asked as tears tugged at the rims of your waterlines. matt nodded slowly while pinching the bridge of his nose, "yeah. i constantly have a headache because of you, all you do is talk and get in my business and i'm so sick of it." he groaned before looking directly into your watery eyes, shooting a glare into them. it was a look of genuine disgust and annoyance.

it felt like someone had ripped your heart right out of your fucking chest and stomped on it in front of you. after a couple seconds of silence and staring at each other a quiet sob escaped your gentle lips and tears began to race down your cheeks, "fuck you, asshole. if you don't want me around because i give you headaches all the time you coulda just said that." you quickly reached your hands up to cover your face before you got up off the couch and quickly walked to you and matt's shared bedroom.

there's nothin' left to say.

matt watched you exit the room, his eyes followed your movements closely. your tears and words hadn't registered in his mind until you were unable to be seen from his position on the couch. his heart dropped to his stomach but he sat there for a moment. he felt guilty almost immediately and wanted to apologize but he wasn't sure if you'd want him to.

let's call a truce,

'cause i don't really wanna go to bed

like this.

after about thirty minutes of sitting in complete silence, matt got up and began slowly walking over to your bedroom. he pinched the bridge of his nose harshly, "fuckin' idiot." he whispered to himself, disappointed with the role he played during the recent argument.

he reached one of his hands towards the doorknob and slowly twisted it open, "y/n...?" he spoke gently, as if anything he were to say in this moment could break you to pieces like a fragile glass sculpture. when his eyes landed on you his heart broke even more than it already had.

you were curled up on his side of the bed wearing one of his hoodies. you were holding his pillow tightly, breathing in as much of his scent as you could just in case this was the last time you would get to. your body heaved up and down as quiet sobs continued to leave your lips, tears still streaming aggressively down your face and onto the pillow. some tears managed to stain the cloth of his hoodie but that was entirely unimportant to him in this moment.

he quietly closed the door and walked over to the end of the bed, "baby, i am so sorry." he whispered while sitting down at your feet, placing a hand on your calf. you didn't realize he had come in because you have this habit of blocking everything out when you're upset, it was a defense mechanism.

you buried your face further into the pillow, too scared to look at him, "annoying..." you whispered. it was muffled because the pillow was covering your entire face. matt's face twisted into an expression of guilt and sorrow. he started moving his thumb back and forth gently against the comforter that covered your body.

"i didn't mean it..." he muttered, still so scared that you would crack at any moment. you moved the pillow away from your face and looked at your boyfriend who looked absolutely crushed. you had mascara running down your face and your eyes were red and puffy, tears staining your cheeks. he moved his hand from your calf to your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

i don't know what it's like to be you,

i don't know what it's like but i'm dying to.

"i don't know what it's like to be you," he stated quietly, "but i do know that you're so scared of being annoying..." he paused for a moment when he felt his throat closing up, "and i took advantage of that because i was frustrated, stressed, and overwhelmed," he sighed, looking down at the hand that remained in his lap, "i let my emotions get the best of me and i know that's not an excuse but i am truly sorry." he rubbed his thumb against your cheek gently before looking back at your face, sorrow and guilt painting his beautiful blue eyes that you loved so much.

"do you hate me..? am i annoying...?" you finally mustered up the courage to ask the question that was burning a whole in your brain. he shook his head frantically and took one of your hands in his free hand, squeezing it three times. you guys did this thing ever since you started talking, knock three times, honk three times, squeeze three times. it was another way the two of you said 'i love you' without saying it.

"no, honey. not at all. you are my moon and all my stars, i could never get annoyed by you," he reassured, "i promise." he took his hand out of yours and reached a pinky towards you, "pinky." he said as he interlocked your pinky fingers. he planted a gentle kiss to your lips while your pinkies were still intertwined together.

you pulled your pinky away from his and smiled gently, "okay," you said quietly, the vibrations of your voice hurt your sore throat so you couldn't speak loudly. he smiled gently at you, "okay.." he whispered in reply.

no matter what you say i won't love you less,

and i'd be lying if i said that i do.

"i love you, no matter what i say i will always love you." he said as he pulled you further onto him. you guys had been cuddling for about an hour now, just listening to each other's calm breathing. you were extra lucky because you got to listen to his beating heart which was one of your favorite things to do in the entire world.

"i love you so much, baby," you paused and nuzzled further into his chest, "i always have and always will." you said as you forced yourself away from his chest, placing a gentle kiss to his lips before returning yourself to the comfortable position you had just been in.

you tapped the side of his ribcage three times and he kissed the top of your head three times.

i don't know what it's like.

the two of you eventually fell asleep in each others arms, both knowing damn well that next time there would be communication and discussion of feelings. it's so important to you and matt knows that. it's important to him too but he looses sight of that sometimes, and that's okay. he'll make sure to work on his communication skills because you're not someone that he ever wants to loose.

Y'ALL it's been so long omfg i'm so sorry that i forgot to feed u guys... i love u so much i hope this suffices. i've been so fucking busy and the writers block has been literally insufferable bro. i have like 2 drafts written up for u cuties i js need to gain the motivation to actually finish them. i've also been listening to shawn mendes and why don't we again so expect fics based around those songs. anyways, love u guys xx!

also i js wanna say thank u guys so much for 200 followers! we're already almost to 300 and it's mind blowing. the amount of gratitude i feel because of the overwhelming support is unreal. i truly appreciate n love u guys soso much!

- ace <3

taglist: @whoisabbyysblog @mattyblover07 @b2cute @samandcolbyfan22 @h3arts4harry @nickgetsmewetter

[mediumgayitalian]

The slam of his car door is loud enough to make him jump, echoing across the dipping valleys and proud hills. He curses to himself, standing frozen, one, two, three, four, but no one comes running. A light dusting of snow falls in a perfect circle around an invisible border, and Lee shivers as he jogs over to it, worn sneakers squelching over the wet, half-thawed grass.

As soon as he steps onto the bottom of Half-Blood Hill, he feels the difference, the balmy breath of warm summer under the clear December sky. The power of Thalia’s tree sends its usual shiver down his back, and he touches it, briefly, as he speeds past, sending his usual prayer of thanks. He pauses at the crest of the hill, using the bright gibbous moon to survey the camp, marking his path.

“Two, four….twelve,” he mutters to himself, craning his neck to map every one of the patrol harpies. He crouches for a while, watching them, tracking their patrol: paired, hexagonal, staggered circuits around the cabins. Four minute window of opportunity.

He can do four minutes.

As the two harpies walking the Apollo-Artemis circuit begin to cross the common, Lee bolts. He keeps low and close to the shadows, sprinting fast and on the balls of his feet to stay quiet, and ducks behind whatever shadow is closest whenever something looks his way. By the time the harpies turn back towards Cabin Seven, he’s already on the rickety porch, tossing his backpack inside the window Michael left open for him and throwing himself in after it.

He lands palms-first, tucking into a roll to absorb the momentum. He freezes, panting, by the leg of what is usually Amir’s bed, straining to hear past the crickets and cicadas.

One, two, three, four.

Nothing.

He’s good.

“Took your damn sweet time, didn’t you.”

“Hello to you too,” Lee grumbles, pushing himself upright. From across the cabin, lounging on his bed like a goddamn French monarch, is his dick of a brother, grinning like the little shit he is. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, most people say hello, et cetera, et cetera.”

Michael shrugs. “You’re late. I watched you on the hill; you coulda made that run twenty minutes ago.”

“Nobody asked you.”

“I’m always asking me.”

“Get over her, boogerbrain.”

“Real mature,” Michael mocks, but ambles over anyway. He retches like a twelve year old when Lee hugs him, but twists his hands in the back of Lee’s shirt when he lets go too fast. Lee hides his smile in his over-gelled hair.

“You might miss me less if you actually write me letters, you know.”

“I didn’t miss you,” he responds automatically. “And I wouldn’t have to write you letters if you stayed home, already.”

Lee sighs. “…I have school, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure your dumbass bio teachers have loads to teach the guy who can do open heart surgery with his eyes closed.”

“Yeah, yeah. If anyone could do with a good, old-fashioned, public school humbling, it would be you, hothead. You ready to go?”

Michael pulls away with a roll of his eyes. “Only since yesterday. Been waiting for your sorry ass.”

“My sorry — your sorry ass doesn’t have a car!”

Michael snickers, jogging back to his bunk and grabbing the black duffel bag resting under it. Lee makes quick work of packing his own bag, stuffing in a couple squares of ambrosia and and giant roll of bandages, just in case, before creeping over to the only bed left with someone still in it.

“Hey, kiddo.” He folds over the sheet pulled all the way over messy blonde curls, immediately plaguing the cabin with loud snoring. He rests his palm over a sleep-creased cheek, mapping his thumb over the freckles dotting pudgy cheekbones, and brushes back the hair plastered to his baby brother’s forehead. “Will, sweetheart, get up.”

It takes him a couple minutes of gentle prodding — when Will is out he is out — to wake up, squinting blearily in the dim fairy lights strewn across his bunk. He blinks, one, two, three, four, then gasps.

“Lee!”

“Oof,” Lee grunts, shifting his weight as he is abruptly accosted with an armful of child. He smiles, curling around Will’s flailing, chattering form, tightening his hold on his waist and resting his forehead on his shoulder. “Hi, buddy.”

“—missed you so much! Is this why your letter was late? Are you staying? Is this why Diana left yesterday? Is she here now? Is Cass coming? Is everybody coming? Can I —”

“C’mon, Motormouth,” Michael interrupts, cuffing Will’s ear as he walks by. “Go get your sneakers on. We’re going for a drive.”

“‘Kay,” Will days happily, dashing off to find the light-up Star Wars shoes he refuses to throw out, even though there are literal holes in the soles.

“You got his bag?”

“Yep,” Michael affirms, holding up a straining backpack. “Toothbrush. Hairbrush that he won’t use. Three comic books. Change of clothes. And two more changes of clothes for when he inevitably destroys the first one,” he adds when Lee opens his mouth. He shoots him an exasperated look. “Me and Diana have been chasing after the little brat for four months, dude. I got him.”

“Alright, alright,” Lee grumbles. “Heaven forbid I double-check.” He turns over to the door, where Will is tying his shoelaces, tongue peeking out of his mouth. “You ready, Will?”

He tugs on the two loops. The entire knot unravels. Quick as a flash, he stuffs the laces inside his shoes, scrambling to his feet.

“Yes,” he lies. He scratches at his throat.

Lee and Michel sigh in unison.

Luckily, the reaction is hardly more than itchy eyes and a cough. Lee herds him towards the door, sliding the backpack over his shoulders and holding out his arm and —

“Hold on a sec.”

“Why?” Will whispers.

“Shh,” Lee says.

Window cracked open, Michael exhales. The release of his bow hardly makes more than a soft hiss.

The angle is odd, limited space as there is, but Michael never misses — the clunky arrow whistles through the open window, sailing past the sloped roofs of the west wing cabins, and thunks somewhere behind the first layer of trees in the forest. Immediately, it lets loose a burst of sound identical to a dropped bottle and a group of teenagers cursing. In seconds, the curfew harpies are screeching, descending upon the source of the noise with the fury of a thousand sun chariots.

“Go go go go go,” Michael orders, wrenching open the door.

Will, immediately, takes off, gleeful at the opportunity to run away with permission (usually, he’s running from one of them, screeching at him to get back here). (Or Chiron, although Chiron has a much easier time catching up, what with the six limbs and all). (…Is Chiron an insect? Technically?)

“How long do we have?” Lee whispers, once Michael has caught up.

He shrugs. “Seven minutes, give or take? More than enough time.”

Lee worries his bottom lip. “More than…” He glances at the forest. Vaguely, in the low firelight, he can see the odd wing, hear the odd screech. Nothing looks very close. He glances at the rapidly approaching Athena cabin, just a few yards out of their way. Hm.

“Detour!” he decides. “Will, c’mon!”

Ignoring Michael’s hissed complaints, he veers towards to neatly maintained cabin. He slips in the space between Cabins Six and Four, holding tight to Will’s hand. He counts the windows as he passes — one, two, three, four — and stumbles to a stop, crouching down in the dirt.

“Oh, are you — for the love of Zeus.”

Lee ignores his eye-rolling, scanning the ground for pebbles. He selects a handful of them, careful not to choose anything too big, and jogs a few steps back.

“What’re you doing?” Will asks, too loud, but at least he tries to whisper.

Instead of answering, Lee launches the first pebble at the window.

It pings off harmlessly.

Waiting a breath for the harpies to come running, he continues, firing off pebble after pebble with increasing strength. Finally, after pebble #7, a face appears behind the clear glass, bleary eyes widening when they take in the sight in front of them. Quickly, the latches are undone, and the window is yanked open.

“Lee?!”

Lee grins. “Hey, Carter.”

“What’re you — you’re — it’s December! What’s going —”

“I need a favour,” Lee whispers. “Can you — cover for us?”

For the first time, Carter looks away, brows raising as he notices Micheal, who taps his (watchless) wrist obnoxiously, and Will, who waves brightly. Carter waves back, small smile tugging at his lips.

“Cover for you?”

“Just, like, infirmary stuff. I don’t think anything will happen, and if it does we’re an IM away, but —”

“Lee,” Carter says exasperatedly, “cover you guys for what?”

“Oh.” Lee clears his throat. “I, um. I need to do something for my family.”

Smiling, Carter rests his elbows on the windowsill, chin in his hands. “Mysterious.”

“We’ll be back by tomorrow evening,” Lee assures.

“And then you’ll stay for a bit?”

Lee’s mouth goes dry. “You want me to stay?”

Carter ducks his head, fingers tracing a mindless path on the windowsill. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you for a while.”

A thousand gods of prophecy could not predict the sound that comes out of Lee’s throat.

Something between a whimper and an awkward laugh, his voice cracks four seperate times. Carter giggles. Lee prays, genuinely, that a crater opens up beneath him and drops him right at Lord Hades’ feet.

“Everything okay, Lee?”

“Peachy,” he croaks.

Carter giggles again. Lee flushes. Michael gags exaggeratedly behind him, pausing mid-heave to whisper something to Will, and then there’s a giggle, and then two people fake-retching. Carter peeks through his dark eyelashes, pleased expression softening his heart-shaped face, and Lee counts twelve of his own capillaries straight-up explode.

“Well,” he says, too loudly. “I’m — well.”

“I think you have harpies to run from,” Carter suggests gently.

“Indeed.” Lee clears his throat, nodding. “As you have so astutely observed, we do —”

Michael, recognising the strained tone to his voice, groans. “Fucksake, Lee —”

“— and so I bid you adieu —”

“Dude, oh my gods, snap out of it —”

Lee can’t. He barely has control over his own mouth.

“— and vow to see you again in the eve.”

Feeling his soul exit his body, settle in front of him, and then crumple up and die, Lee fucking bows. There is the very distinctive sound of a hand slapping over a mouth, muffling an eruption of giggles, and then the hand of mercy, also known as Michael Yew, clamping on the back of his lava-hot neck.

“Please excuse him,” he says grandly. “He was dropped on his head as a child. He’s normal, usually.”

“Except when you wear your glasses,” Will pipes up. Lee makes a mental note to find Clarisse’s spear and shove it through his own eye. “He gets real weird when you wear your glasses. Once he walked into a wall and broke his nose.”

“…Did he.”

“Yep. And last time he —”

“God, this hurts me to say,” whispers Michael, “but I have to put a stop to this conversation. We’re on a time limit. C’mon, Will. Bye, Carter. Sorry for — well, you know. Apollonian dramatics, not always easy to control.”

He turns, dragging Lee, still hunched over, out of the Cabin Six shadow.

Lee does not un-hunch until they are well over the crest of Half-Blood Hill, harpy screeches beginning to echo behind them.

“I have never been more embarrassed to be related to you in my life,” Michael informs him, the second he’s upright. “Like, genuinely, I’m considering disowning you. That was atrocious, Fletcher. You need to get ahold of yourself. Where is your game? Your dignity?”

“I think he lost it when he was born,” Will says thoughtfully. “Or maybe when Carter smiled at him the first time.”

“I hate both of you,” Lee croaks.

Neither of them seem too incredibly bothered, snickering to each other as they duck into the car.

Willing his flush to go down, Lee herds them into his car. He takes a moment in the cool air to chill the hell out, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, then slips behind the wheel. He checks that Will is belted in properly, slips the car into neutral, and coasts down the road, waiting until Thalia’s tree slips out of sight before turning it on and hitting the gas.

“Where’re we goin’?

“You,” Michael says, flipping down the vanity mirror to glare sternly at Will, “are going to dreamland. It’s three in the morning. Time for bratty children to sleep.”

“What? No! I’m not tired!”

“Fine, fine,” Lee says, exchanging a grin with Michael. “Stay awake, then. As long as you like.”

Will narrows his eyes. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“No trick?”

Lee crosses his fingers. “‘Course not.”

“Fine,” he relents. He settles into the booster seat Lee dragged out of the trunk for him (which he hates), arms crossed over his chest, and stares out the window.

Counting off on his fingers — one, two, three, four — Lee and Michael begin to hum.

At first, nothing happens. Will taps absentmindedly on his knees, humming along to the parts he knows, but soon his fingers slow. Lee and Michael keep it low and quiet, cycling through quiet folk songs Michael’s dad taught him, matching with the rumbling of the car, the slight breeze of Lee’s cracked open window. Michael kicks softly at the base of his seat, one, two, three, four; and matches the rhythm of the radio static, the click of the blinkers on every turn.

Will’s out in twenty minutes.

———

The drive is long.

Michael curls up sometime around four, fogging up the windows with every snore. Lee keeps the radio on a low hum, letting the background noise keep him focused as he navigates. The Atlantic Ocean is ink-black in the early morning, and the waves crash loud enough that he can hear them over the sounds of the engine, and for a while they’re still far enough from the city that the air smells fresh. Even when it starts to sour, and the noise gets a lot more urban, it’s early enough and he’s east enough that the traffic is minimal. Never non-existent — he actually cannot imagine what a traffic-less New York would look like; he doubts he’ll ever live to see it — but enough that he keeps at a steady 35.

The drive through Jersey is uneventful. Farmland and suburbs, nothing he hasn’t seen every day of his life, nothing he didn’t see the last time he made the drive. He entertains himself by counting every brown car he sees, randomly wagering the number by the time he gets there. He’s relieved when he finally crosses the memorial bridge, driving down the exit ramp and pulling into the first big parking lot he sees. Michael wakes up as he puts the car in gear, killing the engine.

“We here?” he asks, popping the joints along his spine.

Lee yawns. “Pretty much, yeah. Pulled off the highway.”

“‘Kay.” He glances in the backseat, where Will is starting to stir. “You nap. I’m gonna find a place for him to change and brush his teeth, maybe get breakfast for all of us.”

“Sounds good”

He crawls in the backseat as Michael guides Will out of it, accepting the blanket tossed his way. He slides his hoodie over his face, lies back, and conks out in minutes.

———

“Yo, Lee. Get up. I got food.”

“Timizzit?” he asks, shaking the grogginess from his limbs.

“Eleven. You slept for four hours. We gotta be at the theatre in an hour.”

“When’s she on?”

“Fuck if I know, man. Diana said noon, I’m gonna be there at noon. You wanna piss off Diana?”

“No.” He rubs the heel of his palm into his eyes, reaching blindly in the direction of Michael’s voice. “Food, please.”

A bag of grease is deposited into his waiting hand. He is pleased to find three cheeseburgers within it, and immediately tears into them with a fervour that can only be described as ‘ravenous’, or perhaps ‘revolting’. Esurient, perhaps, if one was feeling poetic.

Finally awake enough to function, Lee looks critically at the scene in front of him. Michael is dressed in the same button-up and slacks he wears to his dad’s performances, on the years he’s in the U.S., and Will is in jeans without grass stains, real shoes, hair mostly brushed. Michael has even managed to find a shirt that’s not half-unraveled from Will picking at the seams.

“Nice,” he says, nodding in approval.

Michael picks at his nails, visibly preening. “Oh, it was no big deal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Dweeb.”

He polishes off his last burger, then ducks inside the nearest store to find somewhere to get changed. Diana told them it didn’t matter, really, what they wore, but Lee knows better. He knows what this means for Cass, and while yeah, sure, it wouldn’t really matter if he showed up in sweatpants, he wants to show her that he put in the effort. That even if her mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, they will. All of them. He wants her to see them and know that they did this for her. He wants her to see them and know that they tried, that they care.

Hair perfectly placed and clothes as unwrinkled as he can get them, he hurries back to the car. The theatre isn’t far, and they have a little under an hour, but he doesn’t want to push it. Finding parking will be hard enough.

“Are we on a quest?” Will asks, five minutes out on the road.

“Eight year olds don’t go on quests.”

“Diomedes was ten when he fought the Trojan war.”

“Are you Diomedes?”

“No.”

“Are you ten?”

“No.”

“Then no quests for you.”

“Aw.”

“Your quest can be being quiet for twenty minutes,” Michael grumbles, making a face when Will sticks his tongue out at him.

———

part two

[ddejavvu]

What if BAU reader is on a horrible blind date in a bar or something and hotch is there with Rossi at a different table and they can tell she wants to escape (or maybe throw a glass at her date) and Rossi encourages (jealous?) Hotch to save her.

Aaron can see the discomfort written all over you. You're sitting straight up in your chair, rigid and distancing yourself from your date. Your eyes drift to your phone in your lap every few minutes, thighs nudging the lock button to see what time it is. You're nursing your drink instead of talking, and all of your responses in the past ten minutes have been 'okay', 'cool!', or 'mhm.'

Dave leans his head to the side, popping into Aaron's line of sight. He's looking at Aaron exasperatedly, "Just go, Aaron."

"I'm not going to crash her date." He brushes Dave off immediately, trying to get the icy cold condensation on the outside of his class to cool the flames of jealousy that burn at his insides.

"But she's clearly not having a good time." Dave reasons, "Look at her! She looks like her stomach hurts."

"What would I even say?" Aaron scoffs, "I can't pretend to be her boyfriend."

"You could pretend to be her father," Dave smirks, but it's shut down as soon as Aaron opens his mouth.

"Or you could go and pretend to be her grandfather."

"Okay, nevermind." Dave snaps, taking a sip of his drink and mumbling hardass against the glass rim.

"I'm sure she's fine." Aaron looks away from your disinterested face, biting the inside of his cheek, "Or- I mean, if we leave soon, we can just walk by her or something. Just in case she wants our help."

"You're unbelievable," Rossi snorts, grabbing his phone, 'I'm going to text her that you're coming to save her."

"No, don't!" Aaron practically lunges for the phone, creating much more of a commotion than he means to. It means that your eyes desperately flit towards whatever could distract you next, meeting your boss's own dark ones from across the bar.

He's going to pretend he doesn't see your eyes light up at the sight of him, because if he doesn't, he'll go insane.

"Yeah, yeah, that's really nice, Michael!" You nod enthusiastically, reinvigorated as you slide off of your chair, "Listen, I see my boss over there, so I'm gonna go say hi, okay? See you," You pointedly take your purse with you, rushing over to Hotch and Rossi's table.

You reach them in record time, splaying yourself out over their tiny, slightly sticky table, "You guys!"

Dave chuckles at your groan and pats your back reassuringly, "You didn't look very entertained."

"He just kept talking about fishing," You groan, peering up miserably at Hotch, "It was a nightmare."

"I'm glad you saw us," Aaron smiles down at you, some of the weight taken off of his chest, "I thought we were going to have to come and rescue you."

Rossi rolls his eyes, "Oh, yeah, when I told you to rescue her it was a bad idea, but when you thought-"

"Take my chair," Aaron slips down from his seat, voice louder than it needs to be to drown out Rossi's expository statement, "Do you want a refill on your drink?"

"Oh, uh," You ponder, staring down at your near-empty glass, "I guess it would be nice. I'll flag down a-"

"Dave," Aaron hands the man your cup, eyes ablaze, "Why don't you go get it?"

"I know where I'm not wanted," Dave smiles exaggeratedly after a tense moment of silence between the two of them, patting you on the back as he leaves, "'Hope this date's more interesting than the last."

[snaillock]

Hi there! Could you write barou, Kaiser and kunigami with a male reader where the bllk boy wants to introduce reader to their parents but reader is really nervous because they rarely encounter non homophobic parents?

I hope it's okay and didn't miss any rules. You can pick whatever format you want and if you don't wanna do all characters, you can just pick one of them as well. Hope you have a great day <3

meeting their families

ft. barou, kaiser, kunigami

tags: lowkey anxious male reader, pre-wc kunigami, me guessing what kaiser’s parents are like so that part could be easily outdated once his backstory is out

barou shoei

when you stood next to him in front of his house, all your nerves suddenly rushed back to you.

“uh barou, are you sure this will go well?”

“yeah of course. i don’t get why you’re freaking out so much”

“well what if your family doesn’t like that you’re dating a guy. oh god what if they judge me and then kick me out? oh no… what if they kick you ou-”

“oh chill out already. my family will be fine with you. trust me,” he reassured you as he walked you to the porch before you could spiral all over again. just like you did on the drive over, “though my sisters can be bit… overbearing. just don’t worry about them too much.”

you couldn’t help but grin as felt some of your confidence come back, “oh wow! the barou shoei calling someone else overbearing? oh my, this is serious! i must brace myself.”

all he did was glare at you before knocking on the front door. once the door opened, you were immediately greeted by loud and cheery hugs from two girls probably a couple years younger than barou gushing about the cute guy he brought home. they soon bombarded you with questions about your relationship that you could barely comprehend from how overwhelming their excitement got. you didn’t even have a chance to take your shoes off. eventually barou had to pull them off of you.

oh that type of overbearing. got it! seems like meeting the family won’t be too bad after all.

michael kaiser

you and kaiser sat at the table for four at some fancy restaurant you haven’t even heard of. the two seats at the other side of the table were empty. you could feel the anticipation and tension in the air as kaiser wasn’t wearing his usual self-assured expression.

“kaiser, are you sure i should be here?” you felt yourself getting more and more nervous the longer you waited. “i mean you haven’t seen your parents since you were a baby and i don’t think me being here will help.”

kaiser looked at you with an uncharacteristic expression of worry on his face. “what do you mean? i really need you here right now.” he placed his hand on top of yours and squeezed it. then some frustration he kept inside of him resurfaced on his face. “those two bastards basically abandoned their own son and now all of a sudden they want to ‘reconnect’ with me, when i’m way more successful than they could ever be?” he scoffed, “yeah right.”

he sighed as he glared at the two empty seats in front of him. “i don’t think i can do this on my own.”

“yeah don’t worry. i’ll stay right here.” you squeezed his hand in return, “i just hope they won’t say anything weird about our relationship. after all, i only know bad things about them so who knows what they’ll say about you, their son, being with another man.”

he sneered, “is that what you’ve been worried about this whole time? who cares what they think about you, my darling? if i’m right and they’re only here to leech off my success, then we’ll just leave and i’ll never have to speak to them again.”

you sighed and smiled at him, “yeah you’re right. well ideally i hope you’re not because i do wish for you to have a nice relationship with your family. but either way, i guess it’ll turn out ok.”

a moment after you said that, an older couple that shared kaiser’s features sat down in front of you two.

kunigami rensuke

kunigami hung up the phone after a one hour conversation. "my parents just called and they said they wanna meet you soon."

"wait what?!” you started getting worried. “they do? are you sure we should do this?”

"yeah why not?” he sat down on the couch right next to you, “they'll love you."

“your parents know you’re dating a guy, right?”

“they don’t yet. they kinda assumed i’m in a relationship and said they wanted to meet my partner but don’t worry it’ll be chill.”

your face dropped and you immediately panicked. “what? you haven’t told them?!”

“no but they’ll be more than ok with it.” he shrugged like it was the most casual thing he could say, “i’ve brought guys home before.”

“you have!?”

“yeah?" he looked at you like he had absolutely no clue as to why you're so surprised. "my parents know i date men.”

“they do!?”

“ah shit. i must’ve forgotten to tell you. i’m already out to my family. have been for a while actually.”

“ah i see.” you sighed and leaned back down onto the cushions, calming down from the anxiety and confusion, “that makes a lot more sense now.” however that was soon replaced with annoyance.

“oh you asshole!” you threw one of the couch pillows at his head. “you had me freaking over nothing.”

he laughed as he grabbed the pillow from his face, “i’m sorry babe! it just slipped my mind.”

taglist(let me know if you wanna be in it!): @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060

[magnoliacharmed]

Lace

18+, Shawn Michaels x Bret Hart one shot

[Also available on Archive of our Own!]

Tags: Lace panties, daddy kink, creampie, porn with feelings (they say "i love you")

Word count: 2491

Summary:

Shawn has a surprise for Bret.

Shawn stepped out into the beaming Texan sun, shielding his face with his hand while he squinted his eyelids. The parking lot of the strip mall was weirdly crowded for a weekday at noon. He wondered why no one was at work, then immediately remembered someone was probably thinking that about him too. Technically, he was at work. Or at least preparing for it. Having a good tan was a crucial part of being a wrestler as far as he was concerned. 

Clutching a tiny black gift bag in his free hand, he made his way through the parking lot to his rental car. With the way the sun beamed off of the surface of cars and the blacktop of the lot, he wondered why he even bothered to stop at the tanning salon. A tan just as nice as the one he received from the salon could have been achieved by letting himself fry like an egg right there in between cars. When he threw himself into the driver's seat and tossed the bag behind him carelessly, he sighed. He just wanted the night to turn out well.

---

Another show, another match, another win. Shawn was sweating like a sinner in church as he headed backstage, high fiving and waving at his adoring fans while he walked. It's not like it  was a particularly hard fought match against Goldust. They'd ran it about a million times by this point in house shows around the country and it was beginning to get a little stale in his opinion. Despite it not being the most fulfilling experience, he was happy that he wouldn't be too exhausted after it. His sudden case of sweat could only be blamed on the contents of the gift bag that was burning a hole in the trunk of his car. Worst case scenarios flashed hot in his nerve-addled mind; what if some carjackers chose his vehicle out of all the ones at the arena? They'd steal the damn thing, pop the trunk looking for valuables, then bam! A pair of tights with "Shawn Michaels" scrawled on the back and a bag that had--

"What's your problem? You look like you're about to shit a brick." 

"Huh?" The alarm in Shawn's voice shocked Diesel just the slightest. He seemed kind of coked up, like he'd snorted one bump too many. 

"You're sweating. Your little mirrors are all wet." Diesel flicked a thick finger against one of the dangling mirrors on his vest.

"Shit. I'm good, man. Aaaaalllll good." 

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you're on, remind me not to take any tonight. You comin' out with us or are you headed home?"

Shawn shook his head no quickly. Luckily Austin was only around an hour, hour and a half drive away from his home in San Antonio. Whenever Diesel decided to head out, he was going to grab up his duffel bag and peel out of the arena in a hurry. If this conversation ever ended. 

"Gonna head home. Not feelin' so hot tonight."

Diesel wanted to pry more at Shawn's strange behavior, but decided against it. Whatever problems he was causing himself, he didn't really feel like getting himself involved.

"Okay, well page me if you change your mind." 

Diesel's eyes followed Shawn's laser-locked stare in the direction of Bret Hart. He gave Diesel a short nod as he walked past them, ignoring Shawn completely. He had an air of determination in his step, walking as if he didn't immediately head to the locker room right that second his night would be ruined. The muscles in his thick legs mesmerized Shawn with every step. Everything about Bret, from the way his oiled up arms gleamed under the lights like the cars in the lot earlier to his post-match fluffed out head of brown hair, got Shawn all twisted up. Shawn began to chew on his bottom lip absentmindedly, Diesel's words not registering in his mind.

"You fuckin' fiend." 

Shawn blinked dreamily. What?

"What?"

"What?" Diesel mocked Shawn's accent. Added a little more drawl to it, to Shawn's amusement. "You may not be on anything tonight, but I can tell you need a hit of something." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

A violent blush colored Shawn's cheeks. He was just too easy.

"Aww, so that's why your tan looks so fresh tonight. I was wondering why you were hitting the booth for a house show. You had to get all ready for your boyfriend." 

Diesel made kissy noises at Shawn and laughed. He was so obvious when he had a crush. It was sweet when it wasn't so over the top. A quick punch to the arm, one with no real violence behind it, only made Diesel crack up harder.

"Have fun!" he called out as Shawn stomped away in the direction of Bret.

"Shut up!"

Shawn brushed past Bret leaving the locker room just as he was entering. As usual, his expression was relatively unreadable… to the average person. But Shawn was anything but average. Searching Bret's eyes, Shawn saw the embers of a fire beginning to light up. 

"Already headed out?" He asked, tamping down any worry in his voice.

"Yeah. Got a little bit of a drive. Shouldn't you be on your way out too?"

"Yep, was just grabbing my stuff." Shawn jutted a thumb in the direction of his waiting duffel bag. 

"Guess I'll see you soon, then." 

"I have a surprise for you!" 

Bret widened his eyes at Shawn's outburst. Is this why he was being so fidgety? All over a silly surprise?

"...Okay."

"You'll see it--" Shawn cleared his throat and coughed, lowering his voice to what he thought was a whisper. "Ahem, later." 

"Alright, Shawn."

Bret turned away from the nervous man and began to head out to his car. He could be such a strange guy sometimes. Cute, but strange.

---

Even though he left a few minutes after Bret, Shawn arrived to his home before him. He knew the drive like the back of his hand. Plus, he was speeding. Not so much though that he'd risk getting pulled over, and even worse, arrested. There was no way he'd be able to explain his mystery bag to a cop. He breathed a long sigh of relief as he shut his front door behind him, making sure not to lock it so Bret could walk right in. He peeled off his jeans and t-shirt, stripping completely down to nothing with every step towards his downstairs bathroom. Placing the gift bag carefully on the bathroom sink, he held his hands up at it as if it was about to get up and walk away. He had to be quick. Bret was pretty good with a map, but the Texas highways were still unfamiliar territory to him. 

Shawn's shower was efficient. He took the extra few minutes he saved by being fast to assess his tan. It looked great, nice and even. The trunks he wore created an appealing tan line that he was sure Bret would appreciate, especially in tandem with the real star of the night. He raked a brush through his damp hair in a hurry. The sound of a car approaching signaled him to reach into the bag and finish the final part of his look. God, he hoped this all worked out.

Bret pulled into the driveway and shut his car off. It was time to find out why Shawn was being even weirder than usual. He could tell he wasn't high or drunk at the show-- he was a lot more loose with his words when that was the case. He was the opposite, a tightly wound ball of nerves that was very unlike him. 

Bret approached the front door and reached up to knock. He stopped before his knuckles hit the wood. Something was telling him to turn the knob instead. When he twisted it to find the door unlocked, he was surprised to see that his instinct was correct.

"You should keep your door locked, you don't want any intruders-- Oh, wow." 

Shawn's feelings of worry melted away when he heard the breathlessness in Bret's voice. He approached him slowly, pressing right into his personal space as he reached behind him to lock the door.

"What do you think?"

Before he was able to answer, Shawn pushed Bret down onto his couch. He wasted no time straddling him, a picture perfect sight that Bret was still processing in his mind. Dragging his eyes down his body, he came to rest on what Shawn was apparently so stressed about. 

A pretty, white lace pair of panties.

They were bleach white, almost glowing against the tan surrounding them. Shawn's erection strained against them and tented the delicate fabric up invitingly. A tiny wet spot was starting to form against the surface of them, no doubt from how turned on Shawn got wearing them. The fabric was alien to him, yet at the same time felt normal, felt right.

Bret could only take ragged breaths. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn't make the words leave his lips. Shawn reached to grab his hand and place it against his ass, wanting him to feel the stretch of the underwear there too.

"You like it, daddy?" Shawn whispered. He wrapped his arms around Bret's neck and stared down into his brown eyes, tilting his head to the side with the best "fuck me" eyes he'd ever given. Bret blinked once, then squeezed his hand against Shawn's ass. He'd never called him that before. The way it fell out of Shawn's mouth, all wrapped in lust and that accent of his only made Bret harder. It wasn't going to take much to get used to, that was for certain.

Bret maneuvered Shawn's body to place him on his hands and knees. He was impressed with how quickly Shawn managed to get into position, arching up just the right way so the panties caught between his cheeks. A flash of untanned skin that peeked from where the underwear had moved made Bret's breath hitch again. 

"Fuck, you look good."

Shawn spread his legs open farther and smiled. Just what he wanted to hear.

"You bought these just for me to see?"

Shawn nodded, his head softly hitting the couch cushion. "Uh-huh."

"So I shouldn't rip them off then." Bret hooked a finger under Shawn's waistband and tugged impatiently.

"Not unless you wanna see them on me again."

Bret worked that over in his head. The ripping would have to wait. Maybe he'd buy Shawn a cheap pair just so they could be torn off. He reached over to the coffee table for a bottle of lube Shawn had remembered to leave out in the nick of time. Messily coating his index and middle finger, Bret used his other hand to move the panties to the side. Shawn's aching cock fell out from the fabric, hanging heavy and neglected below him. Bret pushed his fingers inside of Shawn's tight hole and felt his own dick twitch at the way Shawn groaned from the sensation. When he pushed back against him, fucking himself and begging for more, Bret knew he wouldn't be able to tease him for long.

"Need you, Bret. Need you," Shawn mumbled. His hole spasmed around Bret's fingers, eagerly awaiting what he really wanted.

"Who do you need?"

"You, daddy." Shawn wanted to jump for joy that Bret liked his new nickname for him.

Bret undressed faster than he ever had before. As soon as he'd kicked off his pants and lubed himself up, he pressed the tip of himself against Shawn's hole.

"Beautiful."

Shawn felt his eyes roll back in his head with Bret's first, smooth stroke inside of him. His body felt loose as he struggled to hold himself up. Bret fit perfectly inside of him, better than anyone else ever had. When he moved, a pace that Bret hoped seemed made him seem like he was in control instead of restraining himself, jolts of pleasure wracked through Shawn. As badly as he wanted to push himself farther onto Bret's cock, both his own body and Bret's strong hold on his hip kept him from doing so. He reached a hand down to stroke himself fast, grabbing what he could of the panties to feel them rub against his sensitive skin with every pull. His frenzied movements made his back muscles move mesmerizingly. 

"Flip me around, please," Shawn's voice was soft and small under the sound of Bret's groans. "I'm close."

Bret was happy to have a second to breathe. He turned Shawn onto his back and thought he would come just from the way he looked up at him. Sweat soaked strands of blond hair cut across his face while his lips parted open sensually. A stream of precome leaked down his cock, staining the panties and turning them translucent. 

"You drive me crazy, daddy."

A renewed vigor took over Bret's body like a specter. He dug himself deep inside Shawn, carving out a new space no one else would be able to fill. Shawn's breathy pleas for Bret to fuck him harder, deeper, just like that, were reverberating around Bret's skull like calls to battle. He would do whatever Shawn wanted, whatever he asked.

"Tell me-- tell me you love me, Bret."

"I fucking love you, Shawn. Daddy loves you."

Shawn gasped as he watched himself come. It leaked out in short spurts across his underwear, ruining it. Bret continued to fuck him through his orgasm, his pace getting faster now that Shawn had came. Bret's muscles tightened up at the base of his neck every time he thrusted. When Shawn gave him a lopsided smile and adjusted the panties around, moving them against and away from his dick to give Bret more access, he abruptly stopped moving. Seconds later he felt himself come deep inside of Shawn, an out of body experience he'd never had before. Bret pulled out and readjusted the underwear back into place just in time enough to watch his come leak out of Shawn's ass and into the fabric. Now they really were ruined with both his and Shawn's release making them damp beyond belief.

"Do you really love me?" 

Bret stopped in his tracks on his way to Shawn's bathroom to turn to face him. "I wouldn't have let you call me… that. If I didn't. I'm not into it."

Shawn huffed out a short, smug laugh at Bret's seriousness. "Seems like you are."

"Well, I'm not. Don't expect it to happen again."

Shawn rolled his eyes and lazily stretched his body out like a house cat when Bret turned back around. "Mm-hmm, you got it. What color panties do you want me to wear next time, daddy?"

"Pink and black." Bret's voice was deadpan, the bathroom door shutting behind him with a strong click.

[ingravinoveritas]

So al was asking ppl to ask her questions as her Fridays are so dull while her partner doing a play. Doesn't she find when she wiv michael it dull cos usually shows it or the other way round and then the bird one I found interesting cos since when have we seen Ms be protective over Al we haven't seen him speak or defend his relationship of what the journalists or ppl say about his relationship of what was said on weds where she defended it and and put a insta story about it we all know he loud but protective I think if he had to choose to protect or save someone it would be david hands down not al

What ur thoughts love to hear ur take on this

(Grouping together for ease of answering. @hyperfixating-rn-brb's Ask is referring to the last screenshot.)

So, I saw this as it was happening on Friday, and...yeah. I'm not sure what the impetus behind this random Insta AMA was (perhaps PR suggesting that Anna do something to counter her rash of recent off-putting social media posts?), but whatever the reason, choices™ were definitely made with some of (well, most of) her answers.

I think what struck me about the ones in these screenshots is how they’re lowkey insulting to Michael, but all in different ways (and not overtly, but passive-aggressively, as hyperfixating-rn-brb mentioned). It also seems odd that AL is currently in London, one of the most dynamic and attraction-filled cities imaginable, yet acting as if there is nothing to do on a Friday night. (Because Michael (and/or Georgia) aren't there to entertain her, I guess?)

Leaving that aside, the entire way this happened was just strange. A lot of the questions felt very boilerplate ("Are you currently reading anything?" "Who is your biggest inspiration?") and almost like they were planned in advance (I think at least one actually was from someone AL knows personally, IIRC), yet interspersed with enough "wacky" questions to give the impression of it being this spontaneous Q&A thing.

As for the answers in the screenshots above, I saw people on Twitter getting outraged over the "girly" question on Saturday, but predictably for all the wrong reasons. In particular, I noticed people once again blaming Michael/David shippers for it, but just from the wording alone, my feeling was that whoever sent in this question did not seem to be a shipper at all. "Girly" has a very specific, borderline homophobic connotation to it (akin to someone asking Anna if she "acts dykey" around Georgia), and while I know English is not her first language, I don't think that meaning is something AL would have missed.

So, no, it's certainly not a great or appropriate question by any means. But the bigger issue, at least in my opinion, wasn't so much "Why would someone ask this?", but rather "Why would she post this?" Because Anna is a grown woman who could have very easily just ignored this question altogether. Instead, she chose to draw attention to it, and to react in much the same way as her "vagueblogging" from the other day. It was as if the purpose in sharing it was to show people what she has to "put up with"--either from the fans or from Michael or both.

That's the other piece of this--that she shared this question with seemingly no regard for how it makes Michael look, or whether it would or could be embarrassing to him. It immediately made me think of this tweet from Michael two years ago, where he chose to answer a question in such a way as to deliberately not embarrass David (further explanation can be found here). It's something that seems so small but means so much, and that you'd think would happen effortlessly for someone you love. So the contrast of that to Anna posting this was striking to me, and it was further compounded by her answer to the "favorite bird" question.

Again, it's almost unsurprising at this point. Anna has previously made unflattering comparisons between Michael and Cousin Itt, a Hobbit, and Hagrid--among others--and now we can add a cockatiel to this list. What’s weird is that the question itself had nothing to do with Michael, so there was absolutely no reason to bring him into it...and yet. It felt like name dropping for the sake of name dropping, which just seems like a weird thing to do when she's been dating him for five years now. Did she think we forgot? That we needed a reminder? Whatever the reason, this definitely seemed like such a strange choice, and another instance of passive-aggressively putting him down under the pretense of a compliment.

(A note about the "protective" part, as I noticed that was particularly mentioned in this Ask. I would agree that there are a lot more overt/visible instances of Michael being protective of David--many of which I have talked about on my blog--than of Anna. That does not mean I don't think he is protective of her, however, but that there is a distinction between the two. It is possible to be protective of someone out of a sense of responsibility and obligation, and those are not necessarily bad things. But it's very different to being protective of someone not because you feel like you have to be protective, but because you want to be. Interpret that how you will...)

Finally, I just need to mention that one of the questions AL was asked was about Georgia ("Is Georgia secretly holding you hostage?"), and what I have hardly seen anyone talking about is that Georgia reshared that Insta story a short while later...and added a song called "I'm Trapped"...

I just...was this meant to be shady on Georgia's part? Who, exactly, is "trapped" here? The subtext and potential implications can go in so many directions here that it's hard to know where to start, but...yeah. The optics of Georgia resharing this story and adding that song in the middle of AL's Insta Q&A were and are questionable/cringey/unintentionally hilarious on multiple levels.

So yes, that is my take on the events of Friday night. As I've said before and will again, I know I could be totally off the mark here, so I'd love to hear from my followers as to what you think. Thank you for writing in! x

[blonde-tori-spring555]

as promised, here is one of my tori spring stories

(please tell me what u think, because idek if i like it)

“Charlie, I'm going to the shops soon. Do you need anything?” I yelled from the top of the stairs, “Tori, I know you're going on a date with Michael” Charlie replied from the living room, so calmly it confused me if it was actually a date. It isn't a date. I look at myself in the mirror in my room one last time, it feels strange, I feel…put together. What i mean is i spent at least 30 minutes trying to figure out what to wear, from what i've heard, what i've ‘been through’ to figure out what to wear, is ‘perfectly normal’, first i layed out around four options on what to wear, and when I couldn't decide I asked Charlie, which he responded with “where are you even going” and “i don’t know, why does it matter” so I kicked him out and took all my clothes out in panic, and threw them around the room, then I sat on my floor and cried, then told myself I was being an idiot, did my makeup, and put on some jeans, a white shirt, a black hoodie (which actually fitted me instead of being oversized and/or one of Michael) and some white converse, that I stole off Charlie a couple years ago, to be honest I look the same, but whatever.

I took the bus to the ice skating place Michael went to, he said we could skate together after he's done training, I'm not sure why I said yes, I don't even know how to skate, I haven't since I was a kid. This isn't a date.

I walk inside, he's still training, so I sit in the stands and wait. If this isn't a date, then why am I so nervous? Maybe this is a date, maybe Michael intends it to be a date. Shit this is a date isn't it, no surely not, Michael isn’t my boyfriend, he isn't, so this surely isn't a date.

“Tori!'' I look up and snap out of my thoughts, Michael smiling widely and waving at me from the rink, I smile back, “is that a smile I see Victoria '' he gasps dramatically, I roll my eyes and try not to laugh. I'm blushing. I walk down the stairs and meet with him, and he gleams at me and smiles largely making him look almost insane and cute at the same time, “what?” I ask, “nothing, nothing, you just-” he looks me up and down, not in a sexual way but in a way almost to fully look at me, if that makes sense, “oh my god u looks so cute!” he says in the loudly excitable way, like a child getting a new toy, he quickly takes off his skates and runs up to me and hugs me, almost lifting me off the ground, its probably because of our height difference, he’s alot taller, “i look the same” I reply bluntly, still being held, “yeah, but your… ughhhhh, your so fucking pretty” he nuzzles his face into my neck, gives it a quick kiss, then quickly walks away as if regretting, he opens his mouth to say something, probably to say sorry, but I quickly beat him to it by saying “so we gonna skate now or…?” he looks at me, closes his mouth, half forces a smile “yeah sure” he goes and grabs me some skates, hands them to me and sits down to put his own on, I sit next to him, “just so you know imma be shit at this” he looks and me and laughs softly “I thought so, that's why i’m here to help” I roll my eyes and laugh, he smirks back.

We’re now on the ice, well michael is, i’m standing at the entrance scared to death, “if I die this is all your fault” I glare at him “i’m sure you wont die” he laughs, “i’m fucking serious” I try not to laugh, he holds my hands as I walk onto the ice, to my surprise I dont immediately fall. I force him to hold onto me as we skate, or well he drags me. We laugh and smile and talk and fall, eventually we finish, and we're sore and tired and loki kinda wet, but it was fun. It's still not a date though.

“Are you just going home now or?” he looks at me, he seems understanding, “yeah probably, I told my parents I would be home soon so” i say not looking at him “ok” he nods understandingly “I don't ever really do though” I say still not looking at him, “what?” he asks confused, I realise im not making sense “sorry…ummm, if you don't want me to go now we can just hang around for a bit longer” he looks at me and smiles “if you want” I nod back, i’m blushing, i'm not sure why, he doesn't ask if my parents will be mad, he knows i don't care, anymore at least.

We just sorta sit and talk for a while, after a bit we fall into silence, it's a comfortable silence, it's never really awkward around him, after a minute or so I break it, “don’t you think it's strange that everyone thinks we're dating, just because they saw us kiss once” I look at him, he looks back “their just hopeless romantics'' he replies, “your starting to sound like me” I joke, he laughs back, “that kiss…” I say, we’ve talked about it before, we’ve decided it was a heat of the moment sorta thing, we’ve kissed a few times since. not in that way. He looks at me, for context when I bring it up its the only way my fucking autistic brain can ask for a kiss, he leans in and says “no ones here and no one cares” I put my hands on his face and kiss him, its a normal kiss, not a gross one were u taste eachothers mouths, its just normal, it doesnt last long, but it's long enough.

We part and he rests his forehead on mine, he's looking at me, I keep my eyes closed. I hate eye contact, it makes me wanna die. I finally open my eyes to look at his blue and green ones, he still hasn’t put his glasses back on, his blue eye isn't as bright as my blue eyes, he even jokes that when he doesn't have his glasses on, it's the main thing he can see on my face. For context he's like nearly blind in his blue eye and his eyesight is shit in general. He kisses my forehead. We stayed like that for a bit.

He walks me home, I chose not to take the bus, everytime i’m on one that isn't for school there is usually a random old man eyeing me. I hate men. We get to my house, I don't invite him in, I already know my mum is pissed at me, I'm an hour and 23 minutes late to what time I said I should be home, Michael doesn't need to see her yell, he’ll probably think she's crazy or some shit. I give him a kiss goodbye and walk into my house.

“Your late Victoria” I hear my mum say from the kitchen, she's not even looking at me, Charlie and Ollie both turn and look at me, their playing mario kart, Charlie nods at me then unpaused the game and they both continue to play, “so what were you and michael doing to make you an hour and a half late” my mum raises her eyebrow, my dads head shoots up, oh i'm in for a lovely talk, “victoria this is just unacceptable, the least you could do is call me and say that your going to be late, but here we are, worried sick” my mum guilt trips “yeah but even calling wouldn't of been enough would it” I say, it wasn’t aggressive just pointing out the obvious, “loose that tone” my mum snaps, “what tone” i scoff, “tori, me and your mum think it's inappropriate for you to be hanging out with a boy and coming home exceedingly late and in clothes that are very obviously his” my dad says trying to calm the situation, and for fucks sake that ain't happening, “first of all michael isn’t my boyfriend, second of all your talking about him like he’s in his 30s, and third of all why do you both even think im late” i sorta shout, but its still quiet so Charlie and Ollie can’t hear, “tori your too young to be having…hanky panky” my dad says, oh im in for a treat, in my head i plan to say something like ‘he’s not my boyfriend’ or ‘stop saying hanky panky’ but it comes out more like…”OH YOUR ONE TO FUCKING TALK!” don’t regret it though, if you don't know my parents had me barely a 2 years after they met and got together, my mum finished her english lit course only 2 months before I was born, she had to drop out of a lot but her parents were happy she at least finished the minimum, anyway she had me and my dad was still studying in uni so we went and lived in cambridge where my dad studied, when i was 4 months old my mum got pregnant again, with charlie, he was born like a month early, but so was i, we were both pretty much fine, my dad never wanted to rush into marriage, my mum didn't mind, but i think when you get your girlfriend pregnant twice it's kinda the deal. Ok sorry that just sounds weird. My parents got married when I was 3 and Charlie was 2. My dad looks at me, clearly unsure what to say, my mum is clearly trying not to say something she's gonna regret later, so i just walk away.

I’m not really sure how long it had been since that ‘argument’ but after a bit charlie knocked on my door, i let him in and we cuddled in my bed for a bit, “i heard what you said” he eventually says “did ollie?” i reply, “no, i don't think so” he responds, i nod, “the funny thing is your right” he chuckles, i laugh softly back, “its weird how people look at us and don't realise” i say, “i know right like i was casually talking about it to Sarah and she was in pure shock!” Charlie laughs, Sarah is Nick's mum, she's nice, i like her. We just laugh for a bit and at some point Charlie falls asleep in my arms and I start to drift off too. to be honest it's the best sleep I've had in a long time.

I don't really remember my childhood, it was normal i guess, the funny thing is that majority of the memories i have include charlie, which yeah like he’s my brother, but what i mean is their special, like my main happy memories, charlie and i have been through everything together, like when i got my first period when i was 9 my mum was at some baby appointment since she had just had ollie and i thought i was dying so for some reason instead of going to my dad i went to my little brother, obviously he didn't know what was happening to me so he just held me and cuddled me as i cried, my dad eventually found us and comforted me until my mum came home, and when he came out to us, he had blurted it out one dinner when he was 13 and run to his room before anyone could react, i ran after him and held him and talked to him and told him how proud i was and how much i loved him, and when i was like 6 i decided i wanted to run away, i don't remember why i just did, and my 5 year old little brother asked if he could come with me and so i said yes and we attempted to camp out on our trampoline we had growing up (our grandparents gave it to us or something) and eventually we got to cold and went inside and my parents said we could all stay up and watch a movie but im pretty sure we fell asleep in like 15 minutes. To be honest the list goes on and on, and now that I think about it I realise why people think we’re twins. I know it's total bullshit, but you know what I mean, like for a good 3 or 4 years growing up we were the same height. The thing is charlie will always be mine, he was mine first and biologically we will always be together, i would do anything for him, i would for either of my brothers, i would kill for them no questions asked, i would die for them, i would lie for them and i will always protect them. My parents used to always say that was my job as the older sibling, and it's funny because it’s true, but I could choose not to, but I want to, it's a habit, it's a need. For a long time i always thought i only felt that way about my brothers, that was until michael came into my life and nick really became part of our family, i mean it will always be a different kind of love, but i would still do anything for them. No questions asked.

I eventually actually fall asleep holding Charlie, as if it's a habit, I wake up at what has to be a decent hour for someone who has slept in, (it was around 10:30) I wake up still holding Charlie and ollie curled next to me like a kitten, they're both still asleep, but clearly about to wake up, I just lie there for a while longer, savoring it like it's the last time it will be this way, even if it probably isn't. The boys wake up around 5 minutes after I do. Nick and Michael come over, and we just sit and watch movies all day, and play Mario kart, and laugh until our stomachs hurt. I could get used to this, I love these boys, all in different ways, but yet the same, listen I am aware I probably sound like I'm reminiscing on my deathbed right now, but when you have lived a shit life like me and have seen things a person should never have to see, whether a child or a teenager, or even an adult, you treasure moments like this, my parents are still home, their just doing their own thing, them seem happy, they definitely talked about what I had said, I don't care, if they wanted to punish me they would’ve by now.

Right now high school musical is playing due to Nick and Michael learning ollie has never watched it and they apparently must educate him and their dancing and singing around the room together and me and charlie are sitting on the couch admiring it all. I kiss his cheek and he smiles at me. I love my boys.

But Nick should probably stop encouraging ollie to dance on the coffee table before someone gets told off or hurt.

(Please tell me what u think, I also might change it slightly since it does include things that barley make sense, but I hope u enjoyed x)

[hunterwritesstuff]

Full on nsfw hcs of the arch angels plz <3 take ur time

HELL YEAH, UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE MINORS DON'T READ, ENJOY, POOKIES! <3

☠️ Azrael is a dom. Full stop. Sure, some things may catch him off-guard, but like. still a dom.

☠️ Very much so into light degradation and heavy praise. He likes seeing you squirm under him.

☠️ As vocal as he can be in bed(Vocal chord injury).

☠️ Any potential noises he may make in bed are growls, low grunts, and deep moans.

☠️ Heaven help you if there are mirrors nearby.

☠️ He likes being able to see you fall apart :)

☠️ Also like, really likes railing you into the bed.

☠️ Azrael is SLIGHTLY Bi(I do what I want lmao), so like. Man? Woman? Doesn't matter. The instant you say yes to doing something intimate with him(consent is very important), good luck walking-

🔥 Dom. You can't take that shit away from him. If you try, he will bite you.

🔥 His flame basically is just hair, so like, if you want extra noises, just tug on it. If he sees you reaching for it, he'll get what you're going for and basically make it no-burn. He likes it getting tugged.

🔥 He's. pretty into bondage, weirdly enough. On you, specifically. On him, it's a, ah...pretty big fire hazard unless it's specially made, and that's a little too expensive for him to feel it's worth it.

🔥 He ain't afraid to degrade you if he thinks you're misbehaving(it typically gets discussed beforehand, if it makes you uncomfy, he won't, he'll just gently correct you).

🔥 Very into overstim. Al.Also edging.

🔥 Heaven FUCKING help you.

☀️ Bottom, I'm sorry.

☀️ Very vocal. Begging, whimpering, whining, moaning, gasping, groaning, you name it!

☀️ He will most likely cling onto you during the act.

☀️ If you edge him while riding him, he'll beg desperately for you to keep going, that he'll be a good boy, that he'll do whatever you want, just please don't stop!

☀️ If you pin him down, he'll get even more riled up.

☀️ If you're into overstim and keep riding him after he's initially released, he's immediately more vocal, alternating between begging you to stop and keep going(he means the keep going bit btw, if he asks you to stop without using your safeword, he doesn't mean it /gen)

☀️ Straight, and loves when you suck him off. Like, it causes him to unravel so Goddamn fast.

🗡️ Hard dom. Do with that what you will.

🗡️ He has this whole thing about being in control the whole time. You obviously have say in shit, but like, he prefers being in control.

🗡️ Closeted gay. This is hilarious considering things about him.

🗡️ Very vocal.

🗡️ Into degradation. It goes both ways. He finds it hot that you think you can get under his skin, but if you actually manage to, chances are high that he'll pick up the pace.

🗡️ Chances are high that while he's railing you, he'll probably jerk you off. Also like, he'll definitely try to control your orgasm as much as he can. He loves hearing you beg for him to let you release.

🗡️ Definitely into cockwarming. Also like, that thing where you sit on his dick while he's in a meeting and have to try to not move or make any noises the whole time. He likes seeing you squirm :)

Bonus!

⚕️ Raphael is a like. Switch.

⚕️ Somehow has a bondage kink. He doesn't know where it came from either.

⚕️ We stan a pan king <3

⚕️ All he really cares about is that you love him for him, and that you don't have any malicious intent, and that you're doing it because you want to.

⚕️ VERRY heavy on praise! Both for you and him!

⚕️ If he hears any noise from you that may be trying to say your safeword or slightly pained, he pauses to ask if you're okay.

⚕️ He's just. Very kind and loving during the act.

⚕️ He isn't afraid to mark you tho

⚕️ Very vocal. Whimpering, praise, moaning, grunts, groans, he's just. verrry vocal.

⚕️ Overall? Total sweetheart during the act! And after of course, but that goes for all of the boys here(Yes, even Michael) <3

[delphiealmond]

A Fallen Apple From The Apple Tree

⋆☾⋆𓅮❦⛧⋆☾⋆

Pairing ➸ Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor

Synopsis ➸ Lucifer Morningstar believed that Heaven was a sanctuary, the best place for a soul to be in. Growing up with his brothers was the easy part, until God summoned him and his older brother Michael to guard over the portal between realms. Slowly, Lucifer begins to see how frightful Heaven really was. Sought out to defend the sinners of Hell, tragedy strikes among the Archangels. But a familiar face makes Lucifer think that maybe defending his opinion wasn't the worst idea he could've had. Does this familiar face bring him peace? Or does Lucifer end up getting stuck in another twisting cycle of lies and betrayals?

Warnings ➸ 18+, Panic Attack, talk of murder, swearing

⋆☾⋆𓅮❦⛧⋆☾⋆

MASTERLIST : Previous | Next

Chapter Eight (4.6k)

It was a big deal, being called on by God. A lot of winners see it as an opportunity to meet the big man, to thank him and take on whatever offer he suggests. But to others, it's an intimidating moment, standing in front of the large office doors. Many meetings worth millennials happened in the very office they were beckoned to. 

Worry and maybe panic entered their bodies, wondering what could be the true reason behind the meeting. Why bother bringing them here, when he could have discussed it in the safety and warmth of their own home? 

Being the first two sons of God was tricky as well. A single mistake, and you could be punished. A single good deed and all of Heaven worships you for your work. But Lucifer never expected this. Never expected to be welcomed into the first stages of the Hierarchy. Of course, being the son of God, he was already halfway there. But this was a bigger step he never expected. 

He dressed to his finest. A deep blue button up and white slick pants. Knee high black boots and deep blue gloves that covered over his hands. His hair, a tad bit messy, but overall pristine. He was nervous, he had never seen the inside of his father’s office, and he was just about to. 

Stood beside him, Michael clutched onto the sleeves of his shirt. A white frill button up and deep blue pants. The two never meant to match, yet it had become a habit over the years. 

“I’m nervous…” Michael muttered. Lucifer swallowed hard as he looked at him. 

“Don’t be… I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I don’t think we’re in trouble.”

“My stars, I hope not.” Michael looked at Lucifer. “Did you apologize to him for what happened yesterday?” 

“Last night, yeah.” Lucifer nodded quickly. “Have you done anything wrong..?” Michael quickly shook his head. 

“Not that I know of…” He muttered. “But… He did say it’s for the hierarchy, didn’t he? Like last night?” He asked. Lucifer swallowed hard once more, giving a firm nod. 

“Definitely.” 

“So we must not be in trouble.” Michael muttered, taking a deep breath as he stood tall. “Are you ready…?”

“Barely,” Lucifer breathed, yet he stood tall as well. 

Michael gave a slight nod as he raised his hand, knocking his fist three times on the big white door. In a matter of seconds, the door inched open, the bright light as so many winners talked about gleamed into their eyes, before fading into the likeness of their father’s office. 

It was large, shrouded in all shades of white. His desk, gold with tints of blue on it. Bookshelves littered with books, trinkets and other things. One trinket of Earth, the other the layers of Heaven. And tucked behind him, a rainbow of colours hovered around a golden center. 

Michael took the first step in, with Lucifer following behind him. 

“My sons,” God stood from his seat, snapping his fingers as the doors closed behind them. “And how are you this morning?”

“Nervous.” Lucifer blurted, before he immediately covered his mouth. God raised an eyebrow but laughed. 

“Don’t be nervous, it’s fine.” He gestured to the two seats in front of his desk. “What do you have to be nervous about?” 

Lucifer glanced at Michael, who didn’t meet his eyes. He headed over to one of the chairs and sat down, Lucifer following stride. 

“Is it because I brought up the hierarchy?” God asked, leaning forward, his elbows pressing into the gold plating of his desk. 

“I think so.” Michael spoke, putting his hands in his lap. God gave a small nod, looking between the two of them. He couldn’t help but smile, looking at their clothes. 

“You know, when you were about 7 years old, the two of you would match up all the time? You would make sure you wore the same style of clothes, styled your hair the same way and made sure to talk the same way too. As if the two of you were twins.” He said, remembering the good days of their childhood. 

Lucifer glanced over to Michael, who glanced back at him. They shared a small smile, knowing how different they really are now. 

“I guess though, the two of you grew up.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You have grown up into fine, young men. And that’s why I’m giving you both this chance, an easier way into the hierarchy than the years of trouble that you would normally have to go through.” He stood from his seat, wandering around the room as he looked at the many books he had. 

Michael glanced at Lucifer, confused but willing to learn. Lucifer, on the other hand, was shocked. An easier way into the hierarchy? There was such a thing? 

“Ever since the two of you were children, the rules of Heaven and Hell had changed drastically.” God took one of the books off the shelf and placed it on his desk. “I still remember the day the deal was struck. I regret bringing the two of you with me that day.” He said. 

He flipped open the book, as magic swirled around it, displaying in white and black dust a story unfolding before their eyes. 

“You see, before the two of you were created, Heaven and Hell had an agreement. The two worlds would be separate, but have access to communicate. One world for sinners, and one world for winners.” He explained as the black and white dust following his words. 

“But by the time you two were… Less than ten years old, several sinners, demons, tried to breach the gates of Heaven. Tried to storm the one thing Sera and I were fighting to protect.” The dust showed images, demons crawling to the top, fingers trying to grab at the gates of Heaven. 

“We had to exterminate them that day. That is when I made the decision that we had to do something to stop these demons from breaching the safest place known to all kinds. I went down to Hell to strike a deal, and now…” The dust depicted the two brothers, a portal to the angel world. 

“I give you the chance to protect Heaven with all you have.” The dust slowly disappeared into the room, as God closed the book. “It was written in your prophecies, the two of you destined to protect Heaven.” He picked up the book and brought it back over to the bookshelf. 

“Father, what… Does this mean?” Michael asked, a frown on his face as his hands gripped at his knees. 

“This means…” God sat back down at his desk. “Michael. Lucifer. I grant you the position of power, the position of guarding the angelic portal between Hell and Heaven. This portal is opened once a year, and is a very special thing. You must train and learn how to protect it.” God explained. 

“With…?” Lucifer began. 

“The angelic army awaits the two of you. You will hold the higher power among the exorcists. But above you, two of the elder angels who you must respect. Can you do this for me?” 

“Protect heaven?” Lucifer frowned, trying to grab a hold of the whole situation. 

“While the portal is open, I want the two of you to enter Hell, but stay by the portal. Any demon or sinner who attempts to enter, you must kill.”

The words echoed through Lucifer’s mind. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, his eyes wanting to blur as he listened, just barely, to what Michael had to say. 

“And you say this will get us a better chance at the Hierarchy?”

“Of course. You do this for me, and you both will have your own furtherance day.” God explained, yet his words were hazy in between Lucifer’s struggle to understand. 

“Kill demons?”

“Is that a problem…?” God frowned. Lucifer’s throat ran dry. A memory passed through his head, a white bandage, black blood. Things began to spin as he stood from his spot. 

“I need… Some air.” He muttered, before leaving the office without a hesitation. 

“Lucifer!” Michael stood from his spot, heading after him. God, on the other hand, sat in his spot as he watched his sons leave. His fingers linked together, his gaze sharpening as the doors closed behind the two brothers. 

“You better not fail me.” 

~~~~

Heaven was almost too loud for him. The chatter among the streets, the sound of store jingles as winners entered. The world was too bright, he couldn't see straight and his eyes were going blurry. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing all over, he couldn’t catch his breath. 

He stumbled down the few steps, before finally sitting down. He didn’t even hear the door opening behind him as he tried to calm him breathing. He felt like he was shaking, was he shaking? He looked down at his hands, seeing double. He squeezed his eyes shut, running his hands through his hair. 

“Lucifer,” Michael rushed down the steps, kneeling down in front of his younger brother. “Hey, are you okay?” He reached out, gently touching Lucifer’s arm. 

“Don’t, don’t-” Lucifer almost pushed Michael away from him. “Don’t touch me.” He muttered, his voice shaky, his words barely making it out as he gasped. 

Michael sat there, staring at his younger brother as a wave of worry began to wash over him. He removed his hands, watching as Lucifer tried to ground himself once more. 

The two of them sat in silence for what felt like hours. The world around them, slowly growing back to its normal sound. The chatter; not so deafening to Lucifer anymore. The light of Heaven, the colours, they didn’t blind him as the fuzzy world slowly became clear again. He didn’t feel his heartbeat in his hands anymore. He didn’t hear the rushing of his blood in his ears. 

Yet, sitting beside him, Michael waited. His hands in his lap as he hung his head, looking at his hands, waiting for his brother to snap back to reality. 

Taking a careful deep breath, Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes. He wondered why he felt like that, why his body rushed into a panic, a sensation he couldn’t quite put a name to. 

“Sorry…” He muttered. Michael snapped his head up, looking at Lucifer with concern in his eyes. 

“Are you okay…?” He asked, scooting closer to him as he rubbed his back. Lucifer paused for a second. His throat was dry, and his mouth tasted weird, but he nodded. 

“I think so…”

“What happened…?” Michael pondered, trying to make sense of such theatrics. 

“I don’t know…” Lucifer rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. “I just… I couldn’t think straight. After he told us what we have to do…” 

Michael frowned, his gaze leaving his brother as he looked out at the streets of Heaven. 

“What part, exactly…?”

“The…” Lucifer paused. “The killing part.” He muttered. “Michael,” He turned to him, a heavy, sad frown on his face. “We aren’t built to kill. We were made to protect Heaven… Not kill innocent souls.”

“Would they really be innocent though…?” Michael asked. “You don’t really know what these… Demons did to get down there..” 

Lucifer bit the inside of his cheek, turning his gaze out to Heaven as well. It was beautiful, peaceful and looked so full of life. So full of happiness and joy. 

“I don’t… understand why it has to be us though. Why can’t the army take care of it themselves…? And,” Lucifer scooted away from Michael. “This… Entire plan thing? It’s been going on since we were children?”

“You…” Michael hesitated. “You don’t remember…?”

“Remember.. What?” Lucifer frowned, watching as Michael’s expression dropped severely. He wasn’t one to often show his negative emotions so powerfully, especially out in the open. 

“We were kids when Father brought us down to Hell. And you,” Michael stole a quick glance to his brother. “You grew attached to a hellborn and it almost hurt you. Father said that it nicked your clothes before Cherubim stepped in.” He explained. 

Lucifer frowned, listening to the story. A blurry memory hazed over his mind, but for the longest time, Lucifer thought it was just a dream. A dream he remembered only part of. 

“So Father brought us back to Heaven and assigned the angelic army to go down to Hell once a year, to kill sinners.”

Lucifer stared at Michael. Everything he had known about Hell, all of the things he was taught by Sera, by his Father pricked his memory. 

“So… Why choose us then…?” Michael shrugged in response. 

“I’m not sure… But, Luci,” He placed a hand against the younger’s shoulder. “We have to do this… For Father, for our brothers.” He muttered. 

“What if I don’t want to..?”

“Don’t say that…” Michael frowned, wrapping an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t say that…” He muttered, putting his head against Lucifer’s. “We have to protect Heaven, and if not for Heaven, do it to protect Gabriel. Uriel. Raphael, and Joel. For Emily.” He muttered. 

Lucifer frowned, looking at the golden steps that led up to God’s building, his office. He took a small deep breath as he closed his eyes. For his brothers. For Emily. 

“Fine… But only for them.” He said, looking at Michael. “And I won’t kill anyone. I can’t..”

“That’s fine,” Michael let go of his brother, giving him a small smile. “That’s fine, you don’t have to.” He stood from the steps, holding out his hand. Lucifer hesitated, but took Michael’s hand and was pulled to his feet. 

“We should… Tell Father.” 

“Yeah… I guess we should.” 

Michael rubbed Lucifer’s back before he headed back up the steps. Lucifer watched him go, only for a heavy sigh to leave his lips as he begrudgingly followed Michael back inside the building. 

The light didn’t blind him as much as it had their first time entering God’s office. The white colours seemed a little grey in his eyes now, but he sat down while Michael stood beside him. 

“We’ll do it.” He said, resting a hand against Lucifer’s shoulder. “We’ll protect the angelic portal between the realms.” 

“But I won’t kill anyone.” Lucifer met his father’s eyes. “I won’t do it.” 

Watching between the two of them, God leaned back in his seat, his arms crossing over his chest. He looked at Michael, a son destined to prove his worth. And he looked at Lucifer, perhaps a son destined to struggle, but he could see great things from the boy. 

“Very well then,” He smiled, leaning forward. “Starting tomorrow, the two of you will be training with the Angelic army.” 

Lucifer’s jaw tightened as he stole a glance up at Michael. The older gave God a firm nod, before he looked down at his brother. A gentle squeeze of his shoulder and the two boys left God’s office. Michael, beginning to wonder what this could mean for their next steps, while Lucifer contemplated the agreement, contemplated his own father. 

~~~~

The training platform wasn’t at all what Lucifer was expecting. Human souls, winners that were a part of the Angelic army, trained with their weapons. They attacked fake dolls dressed as demons from Hell. Others tested their speed, their dodging abilities against each other. 

But stood to the side, two elder angels watched among their crew. Watched the training ensue as they awaited for the next extermination day. Lucifer didn’t want to train with angelic weapons. He didn’t want to use a spear and practice cutting off a doll's head. He found it grotesque and violent, something Heaven wasn’t. 

The world around them so foreign to their usual leisure as Michael stole a glance at Lucifer. 

“It’s gonna be fine.” He encouraged, a smile on his face as he headed over to the two elder angels. 

 Swallowing hard, Lucifer could already sense the unwelcome feeling in the air that surrounded the exorcists. 

“Good morning Raguel, Zadkiel.” Michael bowed to the two of them, greeting them with honor. Slowly, Lucifer mimicked his brother, bowing as well. 

“Good morning Michael, Lucifer.” Raguel smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your father told us that you’d be joining us. Are you excited?” 

“Excited is an overstatement…” Lucifer muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked out at the training angels. 

“Lucifer…” Michael frowned, looking at his younger brother. 

“No, it’s okay.” Raguel held up a hand. “At the start of it all, some don’t think it’s worth it, but once you see what’s really down there, you’ll know why we train like this.” 

“Of course.”

“The two of you will be guarding the portal, will you not?” Zadkiel asked, looking among the two of them. 

“Uh, yes sir.” Michael said, standing tall. 

“Good. Your first order of training will be under Alya and Dina. They’re some of our strongest protectors. I wish both of you good luck and train well. Without the proper protection, you could get killed.” Zadkiel explained. 

“Woah, harsh to drop the bomb.” Raguel said, nudging the taller angel next to him. 

“Alya and Dina…” Michael repeated, looking among the angels. He spotted the two of them as they sat together to enjoy some snacks while they awaited the archangels. “Come on Lucifer.” Michael gently grabbed Lucifer’s arm as he dragged him over to the two of them. 

Lucifer followed, unable to say no to his older brother. He and Michael were already protectors, he didn’t see the point in training in their specialized skill. Perhaps he was just being stubborn, but he didn’t like the idea of it. 

“Dina? Alya?” Michael approached the two girls, who immediately stood from their spots. 

“Archangel Michael,” Alya bowed to him. “Archangel Lucifer, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

Lucifer bowed his head back in habit. 

“You as well. Zadkiel says you’re to train us in protection?” 

“Yes,” Dina put her hands on her hips. “Welcome to protection training 101.” She said, “Throughout this section, you will learn how to protect yourself from an attack. You’ll learn to dodge, cast magic to protect the portal and be vigilant.” 

“Mr. Lucifer sir,” Alya headed over to Lucifer, holding out her hand. Lucifer blinked for a second. No one in Heaven had ever called Lucifer sir. Was it really because he was an archangel? 

He took her hand as she led him over to a few machines set up, while Dina grabbed a hold of Michael and began to tell him about the specific magic casts he would need to practice. 

“Um,” Alya smiled up at him. “This machine is an easy level for dodging. It’ll throw simple, small objects at you and using your wings and your powers, you will go ahead and dodge them the best you can.”

“Is there like… a limit?” He asked, looking down at her. 

“Well, um, Lute, our strongest fighter, she can dodge up to 300 items without getting hit once.” She explained, heading over to the machine. Lucifer smirked, looking at it as he took off his jacket. His blue and white wings flushed out, all six of them as he lifted from the ground. 

“I can beat that.” 

“Sir-”

“Trust me,” Lucifer winked at her. “I can beat it.” 

~~~~

The days went on and on, days of heavy training to light training. Some days were simply spent in classes with Raguel and Zadkiel, just to understand the differences between Heaven and Hell. To realize how dangerous the underworld really was. During those days, Lucifer didn’t pay much attention. He ended up doodling little designs for the small ducks he’d been working on. He wanted to give one to Raguel and Zadkiel. He wanted to give one to Alya and Dina for their gracious help. Maybe even make one for Michael if he had the time. 

But, as the two brothers trained, their days started to mix with each other, unable to determine what day it was, what they had learned. As a matter of fact, the two brothers practiced with each other more than anything. 

A few good laughs here and there when Michael would get hit by some random object thrown at him, or a good laugh when lucifer’s magic failed and exploded fireworks into his face. Despite training for something horrible in Lucifer’s mind, he began to have fun with it. 

Maybe it helped that Michael was with him. The older brother was always there to shelter Lucifer, to protect him and keep him happy. And Lucifer did the same to Michael. The two of them, even as now, had gotten closer than they ever were before. 

“Lucifer, Michael.” Zadkiel held his hands behind his back as he walked back and forth in front of the two brothers. “Now that your training for protection is nearly done, you need to understand the basic principles of our weapons. The exorcists wield angelic spears. These spears are used to fight the demons that come into their paths.” He explained. 

Lucifer watched Zadkiel, before stealing a glance at Michael. The blonde was always so invested in learning. He read big fat books when he was a pre-teen, and even now he looked more intrigued in learning about weaponry than Lucifer had ever seen him. 

“The two of you will be wielding the swords of God. Two swords crafted by God’s hands against the stones from the rocky mountains on Earth. The swords are heavy, crafted from Angelic metals and pure gold. These swords are to do double the damage against a demon if one approaches.” Zadkiel used his magic as two swords conjured in front of them, yet, only depicted in imagery. 

“These will be your weapons of choice. No other. Your father has seen to it that I personally give you the training with the weapons. But my only concern,” He paused, looking at the two brothers. “Are you both capable of doing it?”

“Doing…? What?” Michael asked. 

“Killing a demon.”

“Your training shows that you’re ready to protect the portal between worlds,” Raguel began. “But what comes with the swords, comes the trouble and role of the job. You’re not just there to sit there and look pretty. You’re there to keep demons in check. Keep them from getting close, even if they attempt.” He said. 

Lucifer’s jaw tightened. He was fine if he didn’t have to wield a weapon. He was fine using his magic to protect the portal and his brother. But the moment the weapons got involved, something felt like it was crawling beneath his skin. A foreign uneasiness that almost twisted his stomach. 

“I think we’re ready.” Michael spoke, stealing a glance at Lucifer. “Don’t you?” 

Lucifer swallowed hard as he looked at his brother. He wanted to say no, back down and just say he wanted to protect and not fight, but he had no other choice. 

“Yeah.”

“Very good then.” Zadkiel stood straight. “The two of you will meet me at the ring tomorrow at 9am sharp. We will spend the day getting used to the weight of the weapon, stance with the weapon and how to fight with it. This will be what you train for in the next upcoming months.”

“Extermination day is two months away. If you can show us that you’re ready a week before we’re to go down, then you will be joining the exorcists.” Raguel explained, putting his hands behind his back. 

“You may leave,” Zadkiel said, gesturing to the two of them. Michael was quick to get up from his seat, looking at Lucifer as he dragged himself out of his own seat and followed Michael into the hallway. 

“What?” Michael looked at him. 

“Nothing.” Lucifer shoved his hands in his pockets as he headed throughout the building. Michael huffed, following the younger brother. 

“It’s not nothing, something’s on your mind. You can tell me…” Michael insisted, walking alongside Lucifer. The younger stopped in his tracks, looking at Michael with concerned eyes. 

“You may be okay with fighting the demons and all that, but I don’t want to. I’m fine with just hanging in the air and keeping the portal safe.”

“Father said you don’t have to fight.” Michael reminded him. “It’s just precaution, Luci… What if something happens, and something jumps up and tries to hurt you? And what if I’m not there? What happens then? Are you just gonna accept death? Or are you gonna fight to protect yourself?” He asked. 

Lucifer stayed silent. He wanted to banter back with Michael, but he had a point. 

“I’ve seen you. You’re good at this. You know how to dodge well, your magic’s improved significantly. This is the last thing, and heck, you don’t even have to use it. Just have it on you, that’s all I ask.” Michael placed a hand against his chest. “Please?”

Lucifer sighed, but gave a small nod. 

“Fine…” 

Michael smiled at him, before nudging him. 

“That’s my brother. Come on, let’s go practice some more before we head home.” Michael headed down the hall to the doors that opened to the platforms. Lucifer paused, watching the doors banter back and forth, the light pinks, purples and oranges decorating the sky fading behind stained glass windows. 

He fiddled with the helm of his shirt before he followed after Michael. 

~~~~

Sitting among the bleachers, some of the exorcists sat together, eating meals while they chatted away about the randomest of things. Yet, one thing was definitely the subject of the topic. The archangels. 

None of the exorcists really minded them being there, but some hated the idea. They couldn’t go about their day, doing the things they normally did, knowing that two of God’s favourites were practicing alongside them. 

They couldn’t bash the idea of Archangels in battle. They couldn’t hate on demons without thinking of Lucifer’s angry gaze. Who knew archangels were so uptight?

“What do you know about ‘em, Alya?” One of the exorcists asked, before digging into a cheeseburger. 

“Um, not much honestly.” She replied, her helmet in her lap as she watched the brothers practice with the dodge machines. “I know Michael’s actually a sweetheart. He’s not that scary, and Lucifer?” She smiled. “He’s so full of life, it’s like he’s a human soul.”

“Woah,” Dina held up her hands. “Calm down there girlie,” She smiled, nudging her. “He’s just an archangel.”

“Yet they hold such annoying power over all of us.” A girl spoke, glaring down at the two brothers. Her white hair cut short, her gold eyes shooting daggers at the brothers. 

“Lute,” Dina looked up at her. “You can’t judge ‘em. They’re just born that way, with power.”

“With seniority.” Lute spat, sighing as she stood from her spot. “They think they can just walk in here and take our jobs? The two of you were doing fine in keeping the portal safe. So why do we need these two dumbasses to help?” 

The exorcists muttered among each other, looking down at the two brothers. 

“Michael!!” Lucifer cheered. “Did you see that?!” Lucifer looked over at his brother. “429 baby!!” Lucifer used his magic, gold fireworks booming in the sky. Michael laughed, clapping to celebrate his brother's victory.

“Did you beat the record??” 

“For the second time!” Lucifer said, smiling at his brother. “I told you I could do it!”

“Of course,” Michael rolled his eyes. 

Lute watched them, her hands forming into fists as her teeth gritted together. 

“Those lowlife sons of a bitches have it coming.”

“Lute, calm down.” Alya frowned. “It’s just a number-”

“A number my ass!! I worked years to perfect my 300 goal and he just comes in here and beats it without even trying?”

“He’s an archangel…” Dina muttered. Lute huffed. 

“I hate the Hierarchy.”

[quietwingsinthesky]

Idk how easily you could fit this into 200 words so feel free not to fill this prompt but I think a samifer time loop would be fun

i have. a few hundred extra words about it. if that helps. (<- guy who is so so late)

Sam flinches from Jess’s hand as it ghosts across his face. “You’re not her,” he says, exhausted. There’s a part of Lucifer that mourns the moments they could have shared in blissful ignorance and another that’s so proud of his vessel for recognizing him through the face he wears

And then, Sam whispers, “Not again. I can’t do this again.” He rolls away from Lucifer to get his feet under him. His shoulders hang heavy as he sucks in a breath. Lucifer sheds one face for another as easily as breathing. Even in dreams, Nick is ill-fitting. Sam moves out of Lucifer’s reach again before his hand is even halfway to the small of his back.

“I won’t say yes,” Sam says, pacing his way across the room away from Lucifer. Lucifer nods, understanding. He expected to wait, as eager as he was to approach Sam.

“I-”

“You will lie to me,” Sam cuts him off. Lucifer frowns.

“I-” he tries again.

“And you can’t help me. I don’t- It doesn’t matter if you do, but it’s worse when you try.”

“I wasn’t about to offer to help you.” Lucifer is thoroughly confused by now. The way Sam stares at him makes him uneasy. Lucifer is used to being the monster, unknown and dangerous. Sam is watching his every movement like he knows them, waiting for the warning before Lucifer strikes. “But if you need my-” Sam flinches.

“I skipped a few steps. Sorry. Don’t.” He swallows. “Don’t.” He looks like he’s been backed into a corner and beaten. Lucifer knows the feeling too well. He’s only just thrown it off, and he wants Sam to have that freedom.

“Sam, I want to give you-”

“The only promise you can make right now that you’ll be able to keep is that you’ll hurt me.” Lucifer stands. Sam takes a step back, and there’s panic across his face that freezes Lucifer in his tracks.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, very softly, like Sam will spook if he raises his voice a decibel and for all he knows, he will. “Even if I can’t help.” Sam hears the emphasis he places on the ‘if’, but he finds no comfort in it.

“Why are you always kind when it starts?” Sam asks. His voice is too worn for him, too old. “Was it- Was it always a trick? Why do you change?” He comes closer, and Lucifer tamps down on the instinctive reaction to mirror him, meet Sam’s steps with his own to bring them together.

“I don’t understand,” Lucifer says.

“I know.” And then there’s a sharp, horrible laugh that erupts from him. “You know what’s worse? You’re the only one who ever believes me. Dean doesn’t trust me enough right now to take my word for it, and, uh… Whatever keeps me here hides the memories from Cas, so he’s with Dean on me losing my mind.”

“Sam,” Lucifer interrupts. Sam words jump out of him, like he can’t stop himself.

“Sorry.” Lucifer wants to touch him. He’s so close, so temptingly within reach, and Lucifer could comfort him, he’s sure. If Sam would only let him, Lucifer could fix whatever’s wrong. He has no sense for how powerful an archangel is. He’s never known how much Lucifer will bend reality to please Sam. “You’re not going to like any of what I’m about to say,” Sam warns, “but you can’t change it and neither can I. If there was, I would have found it by now.” Lucifer is about to speak, but Sam, again, interrupts. “I do have to say that now, yeah. Trust me. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Lucifer does not stop the skeptical expression crossing his face, no matter how sure of himself Sam sounds.

“In the Cage, you used to relive Michael beating you down into Hell.” The words are shaped to hurt, but the way Sam says them isn’t. It’s become rote, fact alone as though he’s said this same thing to cut through Lucifer before.

“How do you know that?” Too loud. Sam flinches from him. Lucifer softens his voice immediately, steps away from Sam to encourage him to meet his gaze again rather than look at Lucifer’s hands.

“Because you told me.” Sam’s mouth twitches with a long-dead moment of humor. “Because we used to do this with a movie Nick had seen, but you kept getting caught on there being a way to escape.” Sam does, gingerly, meet his eyes again. “That’s what I’ve been doing. Reliving the last- the last decade”—Sam’s voice shakes over that word, and Lucifer knows instantly that he’s lying about something—“of my life, over and over again. Starting here. You always wake me up.”

[mcl4r3n]

dando pre-slash h/c after lando's break up announcement

for @landoisokay <3

-

Daniel wishes he smoked. He doesn’t, has only ever lit a dart a couple of times when he thought he could fit in with the cool kids better, but he hates how it tastes, and considering how much cardio Michael makes him do, it just would be terrible for him overall. 

But sometimes he wishes he did, if only to give him something to do with his hands, if only to give him an excuse to step away from everyone and everything for a few minutes. 

Not that that stops him from pulling away, anyway. It’s an exceptionally cold day in Zandvoort and he’s still dealing with the news breaking about his leaving McLaren. He really doesn’t want to talk to anyone. 

He finds a spot in the paddock that’s blessedly quiet, which is rare considering that it’s media day, but he really can’t be arsed to care right now. He needs to be alone. 

Except when he turns his head to the left, he sees Lando sitting on the ground a bunch of meters away from him, looking as dejected as he feels, which makes no sense. He’d think that Lando would be in the garage or something, probably relishing in the fact that his position as first driver has been solidified. 

Daniel wants to ignore him. Sure, they’ve become better friends over the year, but Lando is still his main competitor. He clenches his jaw. He’s better off not paying him any attention. They haven’t even spoken properly since the news was announced. 

But then Lando sniffles, peering at his phone, and that’s when Daniel’s phone goes off, the notification that Lando’s posted something new in his stories appearing on his screen. Yes, he does have Lando’s notifications on. Sue him. They’re friends. 

So Daniel opens the story up and sees the announcement: I wish her the world and have so much respect for her and all she does as such an amazing and strong women with nothing but kindness. 

Ah, Christ. 

Pls respect our decision and respect our but more Importantly and especially her privacy moving forward. Thank you for your endless support.

Daniel locks his phone. Now he really can’t ignore Lando. 

“Hey,” Daniel calls out, and Lando looks up, then sees Daniel. His expression goes from shocked to shuttered in the span of a few seconds. 

“Hey,” Lando replies, and then fiddles with his phone. The endless pings of notifications seem to cut off immediately. He pockets his phone, and looks away. 

Daniel pushes himself up, makes the short trek to stand next to Lando. 

“Is it okay that I’m here?” Daniel asks.

Lando only sighs, lifts one shoulder up in a shrug, and nods to the spot beside him. He’ll take it. 

Daniel plops down next to him with very little grace, and knocks Lando’s shoulder with his. 

“I’m sorry,” Daniel says. “I just—yeah. I saw.” 

Lando lets out a wet little sob-laugh. “How the hell did you—“

Daniel waves his phone around a little. “Notifs on.” 

“Ah,” Lando says. “That’s—yeah. Didn’t think you would.” 

They sit in silence for a long while because Daniel hasn’t ever been great at comforting people after break ups, especially when he doesn’t know the details in the first place. He just knows that Luisa made Lando happy, and had a chance to meet her a couple of times. 

“D’you—I dunno, d’you wanna talk about it?” 

Lando sighs again. “I don’t wanna—you have enough on your plate. It’s fine. You don’t have to like—pretend or whatever.” 

Daniel nods, figures it’s fair that Lando would think this was pity. 

“To be honest mate, I feel like listening to your shit would give me a chance to stop thinking about my shit, so I’m actually being selfish in asking. But it’s cool too if you’d rather not.” 

Lando’s mouth curls up in a wry little smile. 

“I’m gonna—miss this,” Lando says quietly. 

“Huh?” 

“This whole—you don’t bullshit me,” Lando replies. “Everyone else has been just like—It’s okay, she didn’t deserve you, you didn’t deserve her, all that crap. You’re just. . .  you just wanna know. I appreciate that, I guess.” 

Daniel huffs an exhale through his nose. “That’s me, Mr. I’m Your Therapist For The Next Five Minutes.” 

Lando nods again. He wrings his fingers into a tangle. Daniel sees three spots of raw skin, obviously from where Lando’s bitten through the hangnails. 

“I dunno mate, I thought we were good, but I guess I’m a shit boyfriend or whatever.” 

“This sport eats you alive,” Daniel replies. “It’s hard to like—“ he gestures with his hands. “Juggle everything.”

“I thought it was going okay,” Lando says. “We were both really busy, and I wasn’t—like, I don’t know. Stupid. Like, stupid to get jealous over shit. Stupid to be angry about her not being able to fly out. Stupid to get mad at her for being pissed that I wasn’t giving her enough attention.” 

Daniel is painfully aware of how difficult it actually is trying to maintain a relationship while also just fucking—trying to drive well weekend after weekend. 

“Some people are built for it, and some aren’t, mate, that’s just how it goes.” 

“Yeah,” Lando says. He brings his thumb to his mouth again, dry skin between his teeth, and despite Daniel having the same problem, he still reaches out and takes Lando’s hand and rests it back on Lando’s thigh. 

“Your hands are fucking filthy,” Daniel says. Lando snorts under his breath. His hand is still firm on Lando’s. 

“You’re one to talk,” Lando replies. He uses his other hand to tap on Daniel’s short-as-fuck nails. 

“Well, I’m jobless next year, so I think I get a pass,” Daniel says, nudging him with his shoulder. 

Lando sobers up real quick after that. Crap. 

“I’m sorry—about that—“ 

“Nah, that’s—it’s not on you,” Daniel waves off. “It’s—eh. Just. It’s fine.” 

Lando sighs, moves his hand away in order to rest his weight on both hands behind him. He closes his eyes and tilts his chin up to the sky. Somewhere, a breeze blows through. 

“The fucking pair of us, eh,” Lando says. 

“Yeah.” 

“I didn’t—I don’t want this, you know,” Lando says softly. Daniel looks up to see Lando looking at him, piercing blue-green, wide and shining and sincere. “I—we weren’t great, and you dealt with a lot this year especially, but I thought—I thought you’d have more time. To fix it.” 

Daniel tilts his chin to his chest, the words washing over him. 

“We both lost something thinking we still had time to fix shit,” Daniel replies. “Never know if that’s true or if these things are just meant to happen.” 

“No way to know,” Lando says. 

“Did you know? That the breakup was coming?” Daniel asks. God, he really wishes he had a cigarette or a vape or something to like—just have something to do. Quell the buzz of anxiety that’s coursing through him. 

Lando pulls his lower lip between his teeth, and starts shaking his head, before it turns into a reluctant nod. 

“I gave her the option,” Lando says. “We had a really bad fight and like, we’ve been on the rocks for months now, and we didn’t talk for a while, and I just—I didn’t wanna keep making things harder for us both. So yeah I just—fucking—I asked her if she wanted out and she said yeah. So. Yeah. I didn’t fight it. And now we’re—We’re here.” 

“I’m sorry, mate,” Daniel says. “That blows.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry too, about—everything, and about you,” Lando replies. 

It’s not quite a heart-to-heart, because how much can they actually talk about their respective hurts stone-cold sober while they’re set to face the fucking media for this weekend’s race. 

But Daniel manages to bring his hand to the back of Lando’s neck and squeeze, and he feels Lando’s tension leave momentarily. 

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Daniel says, willing himself to believe his own words. Neither of them know what the landscape of their tomorrows will look like. He doesn’t know how many fake smiles he has left in him. He doesn’t know where he’ll be next year. Lando doesn’t know how he’s going to move on. 

But at least they have this moment to themselves where they’re just mates sitting next to each other, commiserating their own respective heartaches. 

“Yeah, Danny, it will be, you and me both,” Lando says. He manages a small smile, and it actually reaches his eyes. Daniel hopes that his own looks the same. Lando claps him on the knee. 

“Good talk, okay, sweet,” Daniel says, laughing a little. Lando rolls his eyes, rubs the heel of his hand to his nose. There’s a thin sheen of snot on Lando’s upper lip now from it, but Daniel figures he doesn’t need to point it out. 

They both get up, and Daniel’s ready to make his retreat into hospitality before he feels arms envelop him, arms slung around his neck. His own arms go around Lando immediately, automatic, and Daniel closes his eyes to relish in the solidity of Lando, the firmness of his body, the reality that he’s real and Daniel is real, and for the first time in three weeks, Daniel feels like he belongs in his skin again. 

“Thanks, DR,” Lando says, muffled. “I—yeah. Thank you.” 

Daniel squeezes him harder, and he doesn’t even care if they get papped hugging. It’s been a hell of a time. Shit’s hard. This fucking sport is hard. Dealing with a break up is hard. It’s nice to know that in all of that, he still has this real thing, too. Sure. They’re friends. He isn’t losing Lando by leaving McLaren. This feels like a promise. 

“Anytime, Norris Lando,” Daniel replies with one last squeeze. “Any fuckin’ time, yeah.” 

They pull apart, and Lando’s big hands squeeze his traps one last time before he visibly shakes himself out of it. 

“Christ, let’s get media over and done with,” Lando says. 

“Time to face those cunts,” Daniel replies. They walk back into hospitality together, closer than they normally would, elbows brushing and shoulders bumping. 

[parttimesiffrinfulltimeproblem]

song analysis of michael caine by madness in relation to siffrin!!

[plain text of title: song analysis of michael caine by madness in relation to siffrin!!]

having recently gotten into ISAT and spent considerable time with my qpp discussing songs that fit siffrin, I've come to the conclusion that it is SUCH a sif song. PLEASE hear me out on this (ive no idea if theres an overlap between isat fans and random british ska band fans but if there is then hi!)

putting this under a read more both because its gonna be long and contain spoilers for pretty much the whole deal with ISAT. also apologies if I fail to pick up my autocorrect making me type 'saffron'

okay so. chronologically through the song theres just a Lot that makes me think of him. this may entirely be a reach but im too big a fan of this song to mind :]

'he's walking where I'm afraid I don't know/I see the firemen jumping from the windows/there's panic and I hear somebody scream'-- immediately the sense of disorientation and confusion that goes throughout both the song and siffrin. also the lack of subjects in the last line (who's panicking/screaming?) further gives this sort of like. unanswered questions that I think really fits sif and their whole. deal

'he picks up useless paper and puts it in my pocket'-- this is sif in the sense of how throughout the loops they become far more disillusioned with how much anything really matters. it all starts to pale in comparison to escaping the loop, and this especially resonates with the complete tunnel vision in the final loop. ALSO the inconsistencies in the entire song between first and third person remind me of the recurring ideas of like. identity and losing touch with yourself throughout the game. idk. im not sure if that's the case with the actual meaning of the song but yknow

'he can't remember tell me what's his name'-- themes of identity and memory and losing yourself. yeah.

AND THE CHORUS ITSELF IDK. 'and all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home'-- obviously the photograph thing but that's very literal, plus the idea of 'home' both in the song and in ISAT. also the 'all I wanted' alluding to regretting whatever caused the loop? which obviously creates the sense of his wish only being to have some stability and not. Yknow. a massive time loop. but hey ho

'the sun is laughing, it's another broken morning'-- loop. sun/star comparisons to be drawn, and the connotations of 'broken morning' in the context of being forced back to the same morning (or should I say, afternoon? [: ) repeatedly. also the connotations of 'another' as something trapping you/repeating ad infinitum AGH its so siffrin

'I see a shadow and call out to try and warn him, he didn't seem to hear just turned away'-- this reminds me of the whole like. futility of sif not being able to meaningfully help the others and just,,,,, agh,,,

'he had to sacrifice his pride, yes, throw it all away'-- further themes of a loss of an integral part of identity. I see this through the lens of siffrin's attempts to leave the loop becoming more and more desperate to the point of willing to compromise anything (of himself) for escape. fun!!

'his days are numbered, he walks round and round in circles'-- Oh You Know. repetition and never finding escape. siffrin..... aside from the whole time loop deal this line is fun to me in this interpretation of 'his days are numbered' but as the different iterations of the loop growing in frequency as opposed to the traditional use of 'days being numbered'. idk I just love flipping idioms

'there is no place he can ever call his own'-- again the themes of identity and home (or lack thereof). sif having nowhere to return to is suchhh an inciting theme of the whole game and this just completely summarises that. I also especially note the 'very' and how it finalises the whole thing; his country is gone, his memories are gone, and unless Something stops it, his family will be gone as well. I need to lie down.

'staring out the window there's nothing he can do now/all he wanted was to remain sane/he can't remember his own name'-- final verse before the last choruses and dear lord. siffrin. again with just the whole,,, memory and desperation and resignation. one very very reaching bit of analysis here is the shift in pronouns/person between the 'I can't remember tell me what's his name' and 'he can't remember his own name'; the forgetting of the name switches from an external thing that almost doesn't hold much weight to something symbolising a complete loss in self. if I'm then applying this to sif's character arc, I think this really just shows how their relationship with memory becomes more fraught and more of a source of stress throughout the game.

SO!!! I absolutely adore both in stars and time and this song, and just think it fits him so well. do you see my vision

[irish-urn]

Annnnnd I was asked for a second snippet. I don't have a lot of this one written yet, although I do have everything outlined. It'll get written!! Eventually!

From "I Must-ache You to Stop" from The Sasquatch Saga:

“What’s up with you?” Derek asks, all deep-frown.

“What’s up with your face?” Casey snaps back; and then immediately cringes.

He rears back, his expression like she just shouted an accusation at him. “What? What’s wrong with my face?” He narrows his eyes suddenly at her. “Why are you looking at my face?”

Her face feels hot and she sets her shoulders, scowling. “Because you’re growing a caterpillar on it, that’s why!”

He looks very confused for another three seconds before his face clears up. “Oh, you mean…” And he touches that area between his nose and lip, fingers brushing the hair there.

“Yes!” She feels almost vindicated, because by him touching it means that she didn’t just imagine it growing there. “That.”

He blinks once and then rolls his shoulders back and leans back in his chair, suddenly all ‘cool guy’ slouch. She narrows her eyes at him, because that attitude drives her up the wall. “‘That’ is called a mustache,” he says with a slight smirk.

Her scowl deepens. “I’m pretty sure mustaches are supposed to be thicker than…” and she waves a hand in the general direction of his stupid, awful face. “Whatever that is.”

His own eyes narrow and his shoulders go a little tight: bruised and annoyed. Good. “They don’t grow over-fucking-night,” he bites out. “It takes time—”

“Why are you growing one?” she demands, leaning forward. She stabs her notebook with her finger because he’s just enough out of reach that she can’t hit him without causing a scene. “Don’t you have any… sense?!”

His frown shifts, morphing from anger to confusion. “It’s just a mustache,” he says, sounding like he thinks she’s insane. “Men grow them all the time.”

She sniffs. “Yeah, men.” That gets her another full scowl, which makes the animal in her blood purr with satisfaction.

He inhales very slowly, shoulders moving with the breath. “It’s for Mo-vember,” he says, his voice as tight as Casey’s nerves.

[Note from me: Derek's mustache is inspired by pictures from Michael Seater's instagram of his 'stache.

[lunaryuwu]

11 13 17

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

Just one actually(it’s squipemey dhbdgsjakbak) didn’t block harry potter/jkr because i’m not sure how the filter works and sometimes i just want to read those posts talking about why harry potter is not that good and updates on whatever jkr did this time. I don’t interact with hp posts a lot so it doesn’t really affect me and i don’t really care if a pro hp post makes it onto my dash. It’s not really my business anyways, people like what they like so i don’t have much to say about that. I don’t think i need to explain squipemy or whatever the hell the ship is called. I should really get on to putting the variations of that ship but so far it’s been working so i think it’s fine(plus i don’t know what it’s called. Is it like. Technical difficulties? Yeah i think that’s the one. Maybe i’ll at the very least add like squip x jeremy)

13. worst blorboficiation

I feel like i have to say jeremy as much as the other characters have been blorbofied to extremes that i do not like, i think i have the most to say about jer cuz like. he isn’t the innocent baby boy anxious teenager uwu character?? He has done stuff wrong and he would be painfully aware of it and will be haunted by his mistakes BECAUSE MISTAKES ARE WHAT HE MADE. It’s not just “i was anxious and i wanted to get christine to like me” there’s like. underlying insecurities?? Loser geek whatever?? There are deeper reasons?? And michael, as nice as he would be would not just immediately forgive jeremy, given mitb so the apology shouldn’t just be like, a few lines and michael goes i forgive you like?? I need hesitation and struggles of forgiveness because what jer did really hurt?? (That’s off point but i’m getting it out there) and like. jer can be so badass..(as i have mentioned many many times before) but i feel like his character sometimes gets simplified into just anxious uwu teenager. I need more like. angry jeremy. petty jeremy. is willing to throw hands with you in the past but not so willing now(but can still do it) jeremy. He has his flaws and i like writing about it!!! So i want them to be acknowledged!!!

(Big rant dhvdghsbajakak)

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

As mentioned I want more petty jeremy or just. jeremy throwing hands fics/art. Thanks to mj(if you see this hi!!!) i have l2c!jer to occupy my mind and I WANT MORE OF THAT!!!!! And like, bmc timeloop aus,,, i’m a sucker for any time travelling/time loop related stuff(that one bmc big bang fic with michael and time travelling has my heart,,,)

[riridontneedya]

What's mine isn't yours / Part 4 ... 

Part 4 of the "What's mine isn't yours" series . I'm sure you all were absolutely quaking in anticipation for this ahaha . Anyway I took some time pondering what direction to take it without it being repetitive ...Alas I had a brain wave and this segment is spicy , juicy and angsty. If I don't say so myself. I finally had Micheal and y/n do the devils tango .. that ish was coming especially if you've read any of the other Parts so with that comes the WARNINGS! If you read this and still read on knowing damn well you shouldn't be engaging... just don't I have other content. Click here for Master-list and to read the other segments .

Warnings: SMUT (with a plot lol) mature adult themes , description of sexual acts.

Word count: 2231

Pairing: Tommy x Micheal x y/n (female reader)

A/n : ENJOY! let me know if you're enjoying this love triangle of sorts .. also let me know if you have any ideas what direction you'd like it to take etc or any requests come say hi I don't bite :). As always a shout out to the absolute babe who gave me the name suggestion @notyour-valentine <3 xx

It was abundantly clear that in this instant actions indeed spoke louder than words. Up until this point it had been all talk with Micheal, but now .. now with his action behind it y/n knew she was in deep. As they withdrew from the kiss y/n stood mouth agape in absolute awe. By no means did she dislike like the kiss .. in-fact it was the complete opposite and that was a problem in itself. She strongly believed that all the pent up tension would immediately dissipate the second they put action to it, but that wasn’t to be the case and now she was stood in a field . Overwhelmed with emotion , a new found yearning for Micheal and a gnawing guilt regarding Tommy… “Y/n” Michael spoke quietly to gently pry her away from her thoughts. Y/n let out an exasperated sigh  “Fuck” she muttered as she began to lightly pace back and forth with her hands firmly stationed at her hips. Michael couldn’t help but grin as his eyes followed her on her little excursion. 

“Well , can’t say I've ever had that reaction after a kiss”.  Y/n stopped her pacing and glared at him whilst  beginning to ramble incoherently. He couldn’t help but chuckle he found her little panicked fluster rather endearing. “Y/n! What is it you want right now darling?”. Y/n’s face fell as she began to process the question . “Use your words darling” he prompted. “Thats the problem Micheal, I don’t even know myself … but in this very moment I want you right now..” “Hmmm , I'm sure you do but if I remember rightly you didn’t want your judgment clouded with sex”. Y/n was visibly baffled .. did he do all of that only to reject her at the last hurdle. “ I have a better idea it only requires a little patience beautiful .We’re home we can do whatever we like. I say we make the most of it, us without restriction.  Yeah yeah I can fuck you fast and ragged out here and that be it … but I want to have my way with you .. have you take me deep and slow until you can’t take it anymore”.  Y/ns stomach felt as if it had be hurtled rapidly to her feet .She had absolutely no retort for that she was rendered speechless . Y/n shuffled back a few steps . Micheal outstretched his arm “Come here love, I won’t bite… unless you're into that sort of thing” he chuckled . Y/n couldn’t smile that spread across her face, it was infectious. “Lets do it” she beamed as she nuzzled into his broad chest. 

Micheal was sure to take advantage of the new found freedom in their pretend bubble. His lips simply refused to leave hers. Like a moth drawn to a flame , at any  opportunity he would take it upon himself to embrace her in a kiss . His hands remained firmly planted on y/ns body. He wanted the world to know that in that moment she was in fact his. The day had left y/n feeling giddy. The experience of “dating” Michael was none like anything she had ever experienced. No wonder the girls in the village during his early teens  flocked in their masses. It was the perfect mixture of wholesome with that delightful undertone of a feverish sexual tension. The day was drawing to a close and Michael had suggested the pair head for a drink to close off the day. Still remaining cautious they decided to go to a pub further a field  just on the outskirts to lessen the chance of bumping into anyone who knew of them prior. 

The bar was filled with a raucous energy. Music was blaring ,  people were bleating along merrily and wildly gyrating , causing their drinks to slosh everywhere. They were truly caught up in the moment. As chaotic as it seemed it  was a perfect environment really as they wouldn’t be the focal point . A place in which they could rekindle with one another,  could be teenagers all over again . They would be free of unwanted intrusions and rogue gunshots. In that moment they had the world to themselves. The pair slopped in and made themselves comfortable at a booth tucked away in the corner. “Ill go grab us a drink”  y/n smiled to Michael. Pulling her in for one last ferocious kiss he draped her over his knees , having her straddle him.“We're in public you know” panted y/n .

Paying her no mind he just grinned continuing to use his mouth to tease and taunt every part of her exposed flesh. “Micheal” she attempted to snap but it fell short as it slipped out as a moan. The mere sound of her made him stiffen with pleasure, he was ecstatic and craved her even more “ Fucccking hell It drives me fucking insane when you moan my name..” Rather briskly he removed y/n from his lap and stood up, taking her by the wrist he began to lead her towards the backdoor. “Where are we going” y/n squealed as she teetered behind him.  Practically shoving her out the door he turned to her “Bed.. now” he snarled. There it was again the sensation of her stomach being flung from a height. 

Bounding up the stairs and tumbling into the room the pair began to swiftly disrobe one another in-between frantic kisses. Michael paused and rested his forehead on y/n’s tying his arms at her waist  playfully backing her against the wall. “Say you want me , and Im yours y/n” he whispered into her lips. “I want you to ruin me Micheal”. The dark of his pupils engulfed his eyes leaving them inky black , he had been handed the keys to paradise and he wasn’t about to waste anytime. “Oh my  y/n.. fuck you shouldn’t have said that”. Unpinning her from the wall he took a hold of her leg and hooked it around his waist. “Jump” he demanded .

Obediently complying she now was being lifted and carried by Michael towards the bed . Gently he placed her on her back relishing the sight of her “ Open your mouth for me” he murmured as he plunged his index and middle finger into y/ns warm mouth. “Thats a good girl suck harder” she began sucking them with earnest eliciting a groan of delight from Michael. He slowly removed his now sopping wet fingers and began to tease them along her neck down her torso all the way down to her entrance . “Do you want my fingers”. “Please” she moaned urgently completely enamoured by his dominance and vocalness. Hitching her underwear to the side his coated fingers began to tease her . “God you're soaking wet already”  he grinned . With a deliberately agonisingly slow pace he probed his fingers inside her .. then began to build momentum. This caused y/n to moan and begin to buck her hips “ Thats a good girl , spread your legs wider for me”. As she did so his thrusting became deeper and deeper hitting all the points that made her flutter. Y/n let her head flop back as she began to pant. “Keep your eyes on me” he snapped , his hand now fastened at her neck. 

Michaels pace had reached new heights and y/n’s body began to quiver . “ I told you once before and I'll tell you again if you want to come you better beg . Y/n began to plead pathetically desperate for a release “ Louder , let me hear you”. Practically shrieking she begged and begged to let her finish . Giving her exactly no time to recuperate from her orgasm  , Michael was already laying on the bed and hoisting her toward him. “Sit on my face” he ordered “What?” she murmured still in a daze. “You heard me .. now sit on my face”. 

Eager to please she carefully placed herself onto him. Wasting no time he held onto her and began to devour her as if his life depended on it. With each stroke and flick from his warm skilful tongue it sent y/n into a frenzy causing her to clutch on the headboard for dear life as her legs quivered relentlessly. Unable to speak with his face buried so deep in her , and wanting her to achieve another orgasm . Micheal tightened his grip around her preventing her from wriggling away . Y/n squealed .

This was ammunition for him as he rolled his tongue faster and faster over her hypersensitive bud. Unable to bear it anymore her body tremoured as she released for a second time. Content with his work he was beaming ear to ear he panted “You taste so good .. I couldn’t get enough of you”. y/n smiled bashfully “I want you you inside me now Micheal” she demanded. “Oh do you now” he chuckled as he pulled her in for a kiss whilst guiding her downwards towards his now pulsating cock . Y/ns breathe hitched as she slowly eased herself onto his impressive length “You can take it ” he cooed as she finally slid down onto him , coating him in her warmth and slickness. “Fuuck” he muttered under his breathe as he held onto her beginning to slowly thrust from beneath . Y/n let out a guttural moan her head falling onto his shoulder. “ Thats it baby, don’t hold back .. show me how much you need me” y/n continued to let the moans tumble from her  as he began to pound at a feral rate. 

With an impressive manoeuvre he gripped onto her and flipped her around so now he was atop her. “Hmm you look so good beneath me babe , but I want you face down arse up” he ordered “good girl” he smirked as she assumed position. “Hands behind your back sweetheart”. Clutching onto them he picked back up his pace and began to slide in and out of her “You take me so well baby” he grunted administering a sharp slap on her arse. Y/n squealed in delight. Micheal continued to throttle into y/n with a brutal pace. As he was reaching his climax he withdrew from y/n. Taking hold of her thigh he tugged her towards him . Y/n instantly latched her mouth onto his throbbing member . He hissed in utter euphoria as y/n’s warm tongue fluttered all over his raw tip “Yeah baby right there” He moaned breathlessly holding the back of y/n head guiding himself deeper and deeper .

His moans turned into frantic pants and grunts as he got closer . His hand scooped under y/ns chin , his gaze was  now locked onto her tear stained eyes “Swallow” he demanded. Obliging y/n felt the sudden burst of warmth in her mouth that began to cascade down her throat. “Thats my girl” he sighed planting a kiss on her forehead. “Lets say we get you cleaned up and then .. we can properly unwind”. 

“Thank you” smiled y/n appreciatively as Michael handed her a small glass of whiskey. Making himself comfortable he scooted  closer to y/n who was bundled up by the fire in a blanket. “Room for one more?” He grinned . Y/n chuckled as she lifted up her arm inviting him into her blanket fortress. Y/n nested into his chest as he drew the blanket closer around them. The pair cuddled and chattered enjoying every last ounce of each other until they fell into a peaceful slumber wrapped in one another arms. 

There were several loud thuds at the door that came sharp and fast. The sort of firm knocks you’d expect from a police or debt collectors. Michaels eyes snapped open … y/n lay next to him still groggy not completely with it just yet. The knocks came again .. this time with more urgency than the last. He shot up and rearranged his hair and looked for a jumper of some description to fling on. He wondered who it could be … the house was his now as his adoptive parents moved away and left it for him… not many people knew about it and with it being such a sleepy town he didn’t know what required such urgency at this time of the morning. 

He made his way to the door , the peephole was no help as whoever it was stood extremely close obscuring his view so all he could make out was a tall dark figure. Cautiously he opened the door peering around it. The dark figure promptly spun round. Michael’s heart had simply failed to beat , his lungs void of air .. the ground beneath him had crumbled away as he stood face to face with Tommy. “ Michael” … “Tommy what brings you here?” He sprang into action not wanting to seem an ounce bit suspicious.

His tone was cool and controlled.

“Well Micheal" he said, using his index finger to push his glasses further up the bridge of nose " A few of the lads at the Garrison told me you were heading home for a couple days so thats how I knew where to find you … but Im here for someone else .. you see Micheal.. y/n said she was just popping out and just like that she never came home .. no one seems to know where she is and for the life of me I can’t seem to find her … you wouldn’t happen to know anything now … would you” ?