#and we can live together again like we used to when you were little

[hhughes]

𐔌 　 ⁺　 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𓂃۶ৎ

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 , after some comments were made by quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and he has to reassure you

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. luke!bsf x quinn hughes. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. teasing. flirting. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. I love writing quinn so much😭 this is a repost that’s slightly edited if it looks a little familiar to you. one of my favs things ive ever written to this day so thanks again to the anon who requested it! <333

you and quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including luke. your best friend and quinn's youngest brother.

the four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. jack and luke were chirping quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

you laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old. your smile quickly faded when jack started making comments about how all quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

you know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. it wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with quinn. being four years younger than him. not being enough to keep him interested. these comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

a few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and quinn enters, when you answer, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as he holds you tight. the time he’s had to spent close to you but not allowed to touch you, having taken its toll on him.

"nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"do you think I'm too young for you?" the words fly out before you can stop them and quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"age is just a number baby," quinn says teasingly, kissing your lips softly and you sigh.

"quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"so am I. I don't care if you're four years younger or four years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. you know how jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. if there's an opportunity to chirp me about something, he’s gonna take it. if they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that. you know both of them adore you and would never say anything to hurt you on purpose" quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

“and besides, those relationships didn’t work out because they just weren’t the right girl for me baby. not because they were younger. they just weren’t you” he says softly, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone.

"i’m not ready to tell luke yet." you say and quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"god it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. you smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. if you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. thank you for reading and feel free to drop by the inbox and share any and all thoughts <333

[madaqueue]

KEEP OUT THE COLD — suguru geto x f!reader

request | event masterlist | smut : trapped in a snowstorm (fingering, 1.2k)

the breath comes from your lips like a ghost, grey and foggy, almost real but never quite; you shiver.

“we might be stuck here,” suguru says, the first sign he’s returned with those light steps that carry him silently. he says the words carefully, placing them into the otherwise empty room besides the couch you’ve curled up into and the half-broken fireplace in the opposite corner. dark eyes watch for your reaction, wait for you to panic, or worse, cry.

“i think…i think the heat is b-broken.”

yes, you shiver, and yes, you look nearly frozen against the cracked leather cushions, but you don’t look terrified. when the tears never come, suguru laughs, and you swear the temperature goes up a few degrees.

“yeah, it is. i don’t think there’s any power in this place, at least not that i could find outside.�� your chapped lips curl into a frown, and he chuckles again. “but i did find some wood out there. let’s light a fire and make the most of this, yeah?”

at the question, he tilts his head, remnants of snowflakes falling from his shoulders and onto the cabin’s old wooden floorboards. it makes you giggle when he does that - ‘you look like a dog’ you used to say, and he’d just smile. ‘i’d happily be your dog.’ - and sigh. “okay.”

“okay.” he claps his hands together and is gone.

when he returns, it’s with stacks of logs and more snow decorating his hair, friendly stars in an unfamiliar night sky. it’s dark outside now, you’re sure of it, even with the windows boarded closed to keep the wind out.

the attempt to drive in this weather had been stupid, you knew it was stupid, but both of you were too headstrong to heed anyone’s warnings. the resort was only a few hours away, how bad could it really be? and how long had it been since the two of you took a vacation together? no, you weren’t about to miss it for a few flurries.

ah. how stupid you had been. at least this abandoned little house had appeared through the blinding white just in time, the car’s wheels nearly spinning out as you pulled into the overgrown driveway.

a loud crackle pulls you back, back to the unfamiliar living room, the cold leather on your back, the icy air in your lungs. but then, a spark, and flames burn softly in the tiny fireplace.

suguru stares at it proudly, dusting a few remaining wood chips from his palms.

“how did you do that?” you ask - he loves when you get excited about things like this, when he gets to show off just a little.

“what can i say,” he grins, pride blooming between his teeth, “i’m a man of many talents.”

before you can even laugh, he’s pulled you into his lap, thick arms encasing your torso and holding you against him. with more frosty air circling around your body, you shiver again.

“now, let’s get you warmed up, yeah?”

“yeah,” you hum, nuzzling into his chest.

it’s better already, with his cotton t-shirt on your skin, with his heartbeat below your cheek. your shaking slows, but doesn’t stop; above you, suguru frowns.

“your clothes are wet.”

“oh,” you murmur, “probably from the snow when we ran inside.”

three beats of his heart - he’s thinking. “you won’t get warm if your clothes are wet.”

“wha-”

before you can ask, he’s picked you up and placed you back on the couch (in his spot, where the leather is warmer), and gone into another room. this time, when he returns, blankets spill over his elbows and graze the floor.

they’re set next to you on the couch, before he’s leaning over you; hot breath tickles your ear when he speaks.

“you’ll never warm up with those clothes on. why don’t you take them off?” for me, goes unsaid.

when you shiver, it’s not from the cold.

the damp cloth is peeled painstakingly from your body - you wince at the loss, before being immediately wrapped in something softer. two layers of blankets, and suguru pulls you down next to him.

“there,” he sighs, letting his fingers trail over your jaw, the nape of your neck. “isn’t that better?”

it’s just the warmth that makes your cheeks burn, you swear - not the way he’s looking at you like you lit the sun, nor the way his lips curl to show teeth as if he’d like to swallow it whole.

“mhm.”

“ah,” he corrects, tapping a thumb to your lips. “what do we say?”

your skin tingles, vibrating, hot. “t-thank you suguru.”

“good,” he purrs.

there’s a giggle when he pulls his hand away and you let out a little whine, a small protest at the loss of contact, chilled in the absence of his palm.

“aw, still cold?”

you nod into his shoulder.

“well,” he breathes, pulling you further into him until you’re both laying across the couch, trapped under wool blankets, “i can help, if you’d like.”

“yes, please, suguru.” the words come out in a single exhale; he grins.

then, his hands are trailing lower. they dance along your collarbones, over your chest. one remains there, kneading the tender flesh of your tits, pinching already-hardened nipples (you’d blame the cold, if he asked; he’d let you lie to his face).

the other, meanwhile, ventures further.

down over your ribs, your stomach, your thighs. even in those narrow, lithe fingertips, everything is hot in their wake.

when they find their way between your legs, you shiver again. suguru chuckles, a puff of frosted air in the ever-closing space between you.

“still cold?” he chides, but the words have no bite to them, even when you can see his canines digging into his lower lip. “so needy.”

a whimper escapes your throat, but that seems to be the correct response, because suguru finally brushes his thumb against your clit. it makes you gasp, and nearly choke from the stiff air filling your lungs. he just grins.

“aw, you really do need me to help you, don’t you?”

“y-yes.”

“yes, what?”

“yes, please, suguru.”

“good.” teeth that could chew apart stars; a finger finally sunk into your aching cunt. you keen, and the hand on your chest holds you tighter.

a second finger, and you’re writhing in his grasp. when he kisses you, it sucks the light from every corner of the room, until he’s glowing (he’d provide for you in every way if he could; he’d be your sun and pull the moon from the sky so night never touched you, so you’d only ever need him, his warmth).

hot fingertips press into you, into the spot that has your legs shaking, skin sweating. each pant clouds between your open mouth and his, aching, pulling, burning.

“suguru, i’m gonna-”

a low hum, one that emanates from his chest. a correction, a reminder.

“suguru, c-can i please cum?”

soft lips smile against your chapped ones. “of course.”

and with that, his wrist picks up, deeper, harder, faster. fingers pull and pinch at your nipples, teeth sink into your neck. you whine out his name as you finish, until you’re foggy and limp in his arms.

you barely catch the way he pulls his hand from your legs, lifting it to his lips and sucking your cum from it, but you taste it when he kisses you again, hot and claiming.

a soft palm rubs up your spine, and you melt into the touch. he tucks you into his shoulder for safe keeping.

“warm enough?” he asks. you mutter something, liquid words he knows are ‘yes, suguru,’ into his skin. the flickering fire dances across his eyes, and he holds you tighter.

a/n: KAIROOOO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! THANK YOU FOR LOVING THIS STRANGE COMPLEX MAN WITH ME!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!

[euphoria-looney]

Astro!

Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader Squid Games!AU

m. list|next

"And goodness knows, The Wicked's Lives are lonely. Goodness knows, The Wicked die alone. It just shows, when you're wicked, You're left only, on your own." 'No One Mourns The Wicked' by Wicked the Musical

Divider creds: (?) and @dollywons

As a kid, all I longed for was someone to play a game with me that didn’t require some form of technology to keep both of us entertained.

Well, be careful what you wish for, because I have reached an all-time low, willing to kill people with children's games to earn money.

How much longer will I spend in this twisted game before getting killed? Maybe this is better whether I win or lose, I still gain freedom.

One choice is just the better option. 

That’d be losing winning.

Sure I would feel immense guilt, but I’d be free from debt… and then what? No longer needing to slave anyway from the amount of money I receive.

What then?

Could therapy even help? They’d probably send me off to a mental ward. 

Who's going to believe I won millions from playing some children’s games?

I looked around and saw the old man again from earlier, sitting alone in a space, I approached him, and he accepted to play with me.

“When I was little, this was one of my favorite games as a child.” The old man told us while we were walking into an open area.

“Really? I’ll be honest, I’ve never played this game before.”

As we finally found a point to play the game, we conversed.

—

“Did we do this to make a pact?”

He held out his hand, his pinkie and thumb sticking out, I laughed, wrapping my pinkie around his, pressing our thumbs together.

“Sir, no my gganbu- I think that’s what they called a really close friend right?”

—

Eventually we went all for nothing, this was the funniest game I ever played… I almost forgot the fact that I was going to die at the end.

“Ah, guess you won, betting all my marbles for your single one. Didn’t see that one coming.” I chuckled sadly.

He held my hand and placed the last marble in my palm.

“Take it, it’s yours anyway.” I looked up at him in shock, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“We are gganbu aren’t we? Remember we swore on it. And Gganbu always shares everything no matter what. You made this all possible.” My shoulder shook, as I could only stare at my shoes, my eyes felt like facets at the point. 

And then I felt these same hands embrace me, and I felt like a child all over again.

“What a great way to go.”

He pulled away, making me face him.

“Thank you. I had a good time.”

I hugged him once again, my tears overflowing on his shoulders.

He let go and I walked out of the gates.

Sniffles were all I could do before I heard the voice behind me.

“I remember my name now. My name is Il-nam. Oh Il-nam.”

I kept walking then flinched when I heard a ‘bang’ go off.

Surrounded by all these dead bodies, and these empty emotions, I pushed forward.

[Player 1, Eliminated]

—

Despite everything, I’m still having these selfish thoughts of staying alive.

We had just played ‘glass bridge’ leaving three of us here, dressed in suits, and eventually I was talking with Penelope, she’s the one that helped me out of the restraint we were in after we left for the first time.

“Hey, [name], just in case either of us can actually make it out of this hellhole, promise that we will take care of each other's loved ones, okay?” 

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay.”

But she took more damage than any of us once the glass had shattered and was losing blood fast.

“Stay where you are, I’ll go get someone.”

I left and went to the guard or whatever they were, to beg, plead, for a doctor, maybe one that could’ve been on standby, but instead they walked past me with a coffin.

I could only stare at my once best friend standing over her bed.

I ran over there and held her body up, shaking her for some sign of hope.

“No, Penelope, please, no…”

—

Approaching the end game, we ate a feast, so fresh and nicely made, I felt the need to puke.

We place in the field shapes surrounding us, to resemble a squid, this was, Squid Game.

The rain soaking both of us, gray skies, and a single guard on the side.

Astro’s shirt still soaked in blood, his suit back on. He spoke before the game began, a knife in hand.

“I ended her suffering. You know she would have died anyway.”

The tears that once stained my face had been washed off by the rain, and now I could only feel disdain for the man I once knew in front of me.

“That’s bullshit, stop lying. She could’ve survived, they could have treated her.”

He retorted.

“I know what you’re like, you’re the reason I had to kill her. I knew you two would stop all this, so she didn’t die there. Even though we’ve gone so far, just to quit?” 

It seemed so similar to the time back at the manor.

—

“Damian had a lot happen to him as a child, are you going to blame him for this?” Dick sighed Damian behind him with no remorse for the fact I had slashes on my arm, not deep but painful. And though they wouldn’t leave scars, would that really matter?

He held a weapon against me while all I had was a stack of books now discarded and torn on the ground.

“[name]. You’re older than him, he’s still a child. You are the reason for this, it could’ve been avoided if you didn’t egg things on. Don’t blame Damian for your faults.” Egg him on? All I did was try and avoid him.

It wasn’t fair.

—

Now, if it wasn’t high before, my blood pressure had to be spiking. For that petty reason? Simply because he didn’t want all of this going to waste?

“Was that it? You killed someone because this might end?” My voice trembled.

“Yeah! You and that girl would have been the majority you needed to get out! Going home without anything! I couldn’t live with that!”

“And you think that means anything?! What?! one more life on top of the others you’ve stolen isn’t enough, and won’t be enough until you receive something?! You’d rather have one more dead than for all three of us to leave and somehow find another way to bring something, anything home?!” I shouted back at him.

I took my knife out of my pocket.

“It's over…”

“I won’t let you leave here with the money.”

3RD POV

While the VIP’s finally stood up to watch this entertaining last game.

Two people who have developed over time physically and mentally, once friends, were squabbling, fighting with very small amounts of energy, but a passion to win.

Both stabbed the other when eventually, player 456 was able to get the other on the ground and punched him over and over again.

The Waynes couldn’t help but be relieved this was it, they’d never let her go again, they would make up for everything starting with making sure she would be okay.

“Found the location heading there soon!” They heard Cassandra on the other line.

Late, but they would make it.

—

[name]’s POV

I held my knife, before stabbing it into the field, next to his face, before limping over to the goal point, it felt miles anyway, the guard had his gun loaded and aimed at Astro.

There before me was the practical finish line.

I can’t… No, I refuse to if anything, playing this game has fucked me other the head, but I refuse for one second to let this game be the last thing I ever see Astro at.

“I wanna end here.” I face the guard walking back to them.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees, so if we both give up,  you have to end it right?” I stumbled over.

The guard spoke on the walkie-talkie while I gazed back at Astro.

“Astro.”

“Back when we went to the same school, we’d hang out together and study before leaving chasing after our purpose that called out for us. Nothing's calling anymore.” After all this time, he still is.

I smiled at him, that once gummy smile I adorned, one that I hated so much.

“Let’s go”

I extended my hand to him. 

“Let’s go together.”

He slowly lifted his hand.

“[name], I’m sorry.” 

And before I could react, he took that hand and grabbed the knife that I put right next to him, and impaled himself in the neck with it. 

Blood gushed out and he choked out blood.

I quickly went to his side, stabilizing his head.

“Astro! Astro!”

“[name]..”

“No, no, don’t speak! Hang on!” I was panicking, this can’t be the end of us.

“M-my mother, please take care of my mom. And…”

“I love you.” That made me freeze my erratic movements, I was sure he could’ve seen my eyes widen.

“Loved you since meeting you.” With that, he closed his eyes and I could only call out his name, and held onto his body, it was getting colder fast.

[Player 218, Eliminated. Congratulations, Player456]

—

3rd POV

“Believe in Jesus or go to Hell!” A guy holding two signs chanted outside in the rain, strangers walking past each other, a white limo rolled up on the side of the street, dumping a bruised and exhausted body on the sidewalk, the same guy chanting untied the girl.

“Believe in Jesus.”

The girl was in the bank depositing 4.56 billion dollars before withdrawing some out. Her hair a mess, eyes sullen and eye bags that dragged down her face, she seemed exhausted. Walking back to the store she once worked at, a sign stated ‘SOLD’ and next to it a reef, “Rest in Peace, Conny Claire, Died too soon, old shop owner that meant so much to many people.” Flowers that surround the message.

The girl that came there for a snack could only sink to the ground in shock, hands rising to cover her face, body shaking and quivering.

Walking down a store alleyway, Astro’s mom approached the girl.

“How have you been, here take some food for the road after losing…” She sighed, and patted the girl's back, walking back to her shop.

“Have you heard from… Nevermind.” 

The girl opened her run down apartment where she once lived and went to see all the old photos in the yearbook of classes she had with Astro and in all of the group ones featuring her, her classmates, and Astro she noticed how in each one he was looking at her, with those fond eyes.

She could only fall onto her bed, her tired state crept on her before she fell asleep.

Some time later, the girl kept her promise to Penelope and helped out her family, then left them with Astro’s mom, leaving a wealthy sum of money, they became a family… somewhat of a replacement for the other's loved one, and the girl left paying off whatever debt any of them had.

The girl was sitting alone at the pond, drinking some alcohol. Before an old woman approached her, a flower basket in hand, it seemed she needed to sell them immediately before they wilted away. The girl reached into her pocket, handing her some money before the old woman went off. 

Picking up the nicely wrapped flower, a card appeared, making the girl stumble at picking up the card before reading it.

Approaching a hospital, card in hand.

It was the old man.

“What is this… Who are you?”

“Pour some water for me. Please, [name].”

And there she sat, anger rising in her, but she couldn’t do anything against the man who made the games.

She sat listening to the man talk, about the homeless guy below them, about how everything he said about himself was true, how he missed the old days, him and his friend used to have the time of their lives, and how no matter if you're homeless or rich both lives are no fun. Then a clock struck.

She looked at the machine to see that his heart was no longer beating, instead a flat line appeared. Getting up, she closed his eyes.

That’s when she finally started her life again. She got it together.

So, at the first place, her life changed at the same bus stop, well across from it, the skies were clear and the sun was glaring into the area. It had been a regular day for her, working at her own company and all.

Maybe that’s why when she unlocked her car and stared right in front of her at that same place, she was shocked to see her father, Bruce Wayne, and his family.

That’s it for this part of Astro! Did you like it?

Also, unlike Squid Game, soon after [name] left, everyone that participated in Squid Games got arrested, which made it on the news, but was looked past after a few months, [name] made gravestones for Penelope and Astro.

Ofc the Batfam got the credit and got even more famous for uncovering this incident, which is also why they hadn’t ‘visited’ [name] and now are just getting to it.

Not the update you expected, but I hope you like it.

Any comments, advice and corrections are appreciated!!!

-ILoveeeMoney

Taglist time! ❤

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek and a new addition that I'm super happy I bumped into @alilobsessive.

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento @randomlyappearingartist @beyondblissxoxo @sirairi @yhin-gg @frankie-moon3 @welpthisisboring @yokesmam @bat1212 @enchantingarcadecreation @twismare @delias-stuff @ladylupuscrow @ferchu0406 @c4xcocoa @cruzerforce4256 @anonymoushehehehe @godoreo22 @blerp-22 @facelessisnthere @sirenetheblogger @themightybee4067 @boredselkie @tiffyisme3760 @random4137 @midnightgrimoire @mybones537 @chaoticmoontimetravel @jsprien213 @crazycaoticsimp @elfollaburras3000 @czarinera @tiffyisme3760 @exactlynumberonekryptonite @gwyneveire @k-anaru @a-lurking-fae @nxdxsworld @ryuushou

I think that's everyone who wanted to be tagged, I hope I didn't spell anyone's name wrong and tag the wrong person.

[sibsteria]

pls for the love of god write more spencer. ur writing is everything

The difference between love and pretending…

Spencer Agnew x fem!Reader

a/n ask and ye shall receive

Masterlist

Warnings/Content: This be a short one, little bit of angst, pining, kissing, cheating, alcohol

Summary: He dated your friend, granted she treated him like dirt and you, doesn’t that break some kind of girl code? But he stood there, oh so beautiful and you just…

New! Spencer Agnew Prompt Series!

Prompt: “I can’t stop thinking about the last time we kissed.” “You say you don’t love me but you kissed me back like you did.”

Flashback

The living room was heavy with the heartbreak of your best friend and colleague, for that matter. A stupid romcom blaring colour from the tv that he swore he didn’t like in the dim light room, wine drunk to high heaven, scattered takeaway containers around the table and a big big box of chocolate.

Having just broken up with your friend, catching her kissing one of her guy friends when she thought she was alone, you were here to help him feel better. You didn’t know if it was working, but you hope it was, you hated seeing him like this- not because you had a crush or anything. You set them up together so really it’s your own fault, your own fault that you had to watch the two people you love in this world kiss over and over, your own fault he sat here upset.

The tension grew awkward after he spoke, “I should have dated you instead.” He laughed, but in a sort of self deprecation way. And the alcohol that cling to your brain made the case even worse as you blurted out- “Maybe…” Your eyes met his, you know it was wrong- he was going through heartbreak and he had belonged to your friend not six hours ago and…

He leaned down, unsure of what he was actually doing right now, and sure enough your lips met. It turned sloppy and messy, your lipstick smearing over his face as you gripped each others clothing.

What were you doing?

You felt embarrassed at yourself, he was hurting and you just let him kiss you like that, how selfish can you be?

Soon after you had pulled away, you made an excuse and left, you can’t do this to him or to yourself. You didn’t want to stay and become a rebound girl for the man you were pretty sure you loved.

You didn’t talk about it after that night, the rooms went silent and stuffy when it was just the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say.

Both of you tried to build your friendship back up, eventually getting to a point where you could exchange niceties when working, but in the back of your head you were sort of regretting what happened.

Until….

“Can I talk to you for a second…alone?” You paused as you packed up to leave, it was getting late and you didn’t want to bother the clean up crew.

“Um, yeah, sure- is everything okay?” You ask, your eyes darted anywhere but his face.

“No.” He put it plain and simple, it had been at least four months since that night, was he still angry at you?

“Oh…” Was all you could say, waving goodbye to your desk buddies before it left just the two of you.

“I can’t stop thinking about the last time we kissed.” He huffed out, swiping some hair out of his eyes.

“Ah…what do you mean?” You knew this was coming eventually, it was stupid to think it wouldn’t.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, about you…” You blink at his words, about you?

“About me?” Your breathing became a little heavier as the office was silent and still.

“About how much I want to kiss you again…” You gasped quietly, was he on drugs?

“Spencer…”

“I get it, if you don’t feel the same way but…I kind of know you do…” He trails off, looking a little awkward.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You panicked a little, how did he know about your feelings? Was this a trick? You betted on Ian spilling the beans, of course he did!

“I feel like I used you that night, the night we kissed because…I knew you had feelings for me and I just…wanted to feel like someone loved me.” He’s upset at his own words, at himself for taking advantage of you and your feelings for him. You had gotten it all wrong, he wasn’t angry at you. You stayed calm even thought you felt utterly embarrassed that he had known about your feelings for so long.

“I…thought I was using you…because of how I felt and I thought I was being selfish letting you kiss me when I knew you loved her.” Her being your friend, of course.

“Let me kiss you again…” He stepped towards you, a fire in his eyes.

“What? Why?” You don’t want your feelings played around like that.

“Because…I, I like you back.” He softens at you, “Since that night, since the kiss, it’s like you messed with me…and I can’t stop thinking about you.” This can’t be true, it was just convenience.

“Spencer, no, you don’t. It’s just-“

“Yes…I do, I know the difference between love and pretending.” He was a smart man, of course he knew, not that you fully believed it.

“Okay, well…” You couldn’t do this to your friend, could you? You had only just patched things up after being angry at her for so long for breaking his heart, how would it look now if you just swooped him up? “I can’t…because she-“

“Forget about her, I stopped thinking about her the moment our lips touched and it’s not like she doesn’t deserve this…you shouldn’t care about her feelings more than your own.” Why was he so right?

“How are you so sure I love you, still? I don’t.” You had it coming as soon as you said that, your voice wavering because of the dishonesty in it. You couldn’t do this to her-

He scoffed, putting his hands up and cupping your jaw before pulling you into the most phenomenal kiss of your life, it happened quickly and you followed suit- kissing him back with the same passion.

His hands tangled in your hair as you came up to steady yourself on his chest, it went on for a while before he pulled away- a sick grin on his features.

“You say you don’t love me but you kissed me back like you did.” His eyes are shining as you can’t find anything to deny.

“I…” You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat, you didn’t know what to say.

“One date? If we aren’t a match then that’s the end…but I don’t see that happening, I really, really want this to work with you. Don’t think about what she might think or say. We were friends for much longer and…you don’t need someone like her in your life” She did treat you terribly, you were always so kind to people and they took it for granted more often than not.

“You know, you are really stubborn.” You suppressed a smile, looking at him with a glint of joy in your eyes.

“Tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at 6? They do discounts on the bowling place down the street after 8, we could get some dinner…or something like that?” That sounded amazing, a chill first date.

“Perfect.” You bite your bottom lip, smiling.

“You won’t regret it.” He leans in to kiss your cheek.

What have you gotten yourself into?

[cjsmalley]

Anne Summers:

“What?” Buffy said disbelievingly, sure she had misheard.

Giles polished his glasses harder, “Travers was quite clear; if you don’t take the child, the Council will have no choice but to dispose of her permanently.”

Buffy looked out into her backyard, watching Hope and Spike play a rousing game of chase; with Dawn in the college dorms and Willow and Tara moved into their own apartment, they had the room.

With Danny paying the bills, they had the finances as well.

But another kid? A legit Potential? A half-demon Potential? Hope was only six and just showing her mutant ability consistently, copying everyone around her when allowed.

“What’s this girl’s demon half?” she asked, crossing her arms as she watched her Mate and their daughter play.

“It’s—” Giles made a phlegmy sound before shaking his head, “translates as ‘The-Ones-Who-Feed-On-Emotions’. She’s like a vampire but instead of bloods she eats—”

“Feelings,” Buffy finished shortly, “what feelings, Giles? Happiness? Sadness? Is she part Dementor?”

“Any feelings,” Giles replied, “but, from our research, positive ones directed at her are best for her development. Positive emotions in general are better than negative ones. But she also requires formula and does soil herself.”

Buffy nodded curtly before whistling; Spike left Hope to play by herself and came jogging into the house, “What’s goin’ on?”

Giles explained the situation again.

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow, “Well, Buffy, ‘m game.”

“You really think we can handle another kid?”

“Honestly, Slayer? Didn’t think we could handle one; but we’ve done alright by her, what’s another one. Hope’s in school most of the day anyway.”

“But remember those first few months?” Buffy reminded gently, “if not for our friends we would’ve fallen apart. And Anya and Xander are trying for their own.”

Spike snorted, “Not like I could forget that; demon girl’s too honest sometimes. But we still have the witches and ol’ Rupert. And the whelp needs the practice still if they’re tryin’ fer a sprog. We did alright. An’ ‘sides, could you really live with yourself if they kill a kid an’ you coulda stopped it?”

Buffy sighed; he was right. There really was no choice to be made.

“We need time, to explain this to Hope, to have a Scoobie meeting, to get the gear we need, but we’ll take her,” Buffy told Giles, “tell Travers a week. And if she comes to us injured or anything like that, there’ll be Hell to pay, several of them.”

“Of course, Buffy,” Giles agreed.

Later that night, the Scoobies all gathered around a meal. Buffy stood up, gaining their attentions,

“So, Travers contacted Giles,” Buffy began, to groans, “I know, I know. But he had a…good reason.”

“Are they paying you yet,” Anya questioned.

“No, sadly.”

And then Buffy told them what was happening.

“I thought Mommy and Daddy couldn’t have babies,” Hope spoke up, ‘cause Daddy’s penis doesn’t work right.”

Buffy had decided to be very blunt with her daughter when she asked questions about the human body; blunt but age appropriate. So Hope knew most girls had vaginas and most boys had penises and together they made babies using a special dance with the penis inside the vagina. She also knew that Spike couldn’t help make babies like most boys even though he and Buffy could do the special dance.

“We’re adoptin’, Mite,” Spike replied to her question, “do you ‘member what that means?”

Hope nodded, “It’s when a Mommy and a Daddy make a baby but can’t take care of it so they give it a new Mommy and Daddy. Like me! My original Mommy and Daddy are dead so Uncle Danny brought me to you and Mommy!”

“Very good, Hope,” Giles praised, “now, this little one your parents are adopting is extra special. She’s half demon and could be like Buffy when she grows up.”

“A Slayer?” Hope cocked her head; she knew all about her Mommy and Daddy’s night job, that they fought monsters, “how can she be half-demon and like Mommy?”

“We do not know yet,” Giles answered, “but the Council, you met them when you were younger, they needed to give this girl a new, special Mummy and Daddy so they asked Buffy and Spike. Because of you, really.”

“Me?”

“Well, yes,” Giles said, “they have proven able and willing to handle your abilities so it is hoped that they can handle the girl’s more…unique qualities.”

“Yeah, her vampire powers,” Xander snorted, “doesn’t anyone else find it suspicious that they just happen to have a half-vampire kid for Buffy and Spike?”

“She’s not half-vampire, not really,” Willow shook her head, “she’s an emotion eater. Not a blood-drinker.”

“Still, G-man explained her as an emotional vamp,” Xander argued lightly, “the Powers-that-Be must love these two or something. But, yeah, Buffy, of course we’ll help.”

“So will we.” Tara added for her and Willow.

“I’m in,” Dawn nodded.

And so, plans were made, and necessities were bought and soon a Council flunky dressed as a Social Services Worker was handing over custody of the nearly newborn girl who didn’t have a name.

She was blonde and blue eyed and could easily pass as a Summers child, lack of green eyes notwithstanding.

Spike seemed pensive as he took in the baby without a name before looking up to Buffy, “Slayer, Buffy…could we…perhaps…name her after my mum?”

“Of course,” Buffy agreed before questioning, “what was her name, Spike?”

“Anne…her name was Anne.”

Buffy smiled softly at her Mate and said, “Anne Summers…Annie…yeah, that sounds perfect. Guys,” she turned to their friends, allowing Spike a moment to compose himself, and older daughter, in Willow’s arms, “meet Anne Summers.”

The positive energy that resulted kept Anne fed for days.

Wished Away 9

Tylers meet Phantoms:

“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”

“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!

“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”

It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.

Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”

“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”

“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.

She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.

“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.

Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.

Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.

The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.

Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”

Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.

Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”

Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”

“Perfect!”

She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”

“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”

“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”

“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”

“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”

“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.

“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.

“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”

Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”

“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.

“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”

“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”

Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.

“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.

Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”

“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.

The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde

Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.

Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.

It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.

Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.

“When they said the family was huge…”

Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.

“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”

He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.

“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.

“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”

“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.

“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”

Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.

As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.

“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.

“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.

Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.

The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.

After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”

Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”

“Family wall?” Pete questioned.

“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”

Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.

A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.

Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”

Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.

Danny took a set of pictures.

After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.

They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.

[vidavalor]

The Second Coming was actually S2

If you look at the opening titles for S2, you'll notice that, in the first and the last episodes of the season-- "The Arrival" and "Everyday"-- there is a word hidden within the theatre. It's on the wall on our right on the bottom floor concession stand as they move through the theatre. What's hidden there is the apparent name of the concession stand-- The Parousia.

Parousia is a Greek word meaning arrival and presence that is also used to refer to The Second Coming. In The Bible, it can also refer to the arrival of other prophets, though, too.

So, the first time we see this word in Good Omens? It's there in the episode entitled "The Arrival", in which the one to arrive was actually Gabriel, right? (And note the Jesus cross he was holding in the statue of him that we kept seeing all season...)

And stop me if any of this is a little familiar but... Gabriel was tired, sick, naked, and hungry, and what did Crowley and Aziraphale do? They protected him, helped him heal, fed him, gave him clothes, and a place to sleep... pretty Jesus-y...

Meanwhile, Gabriel's status was unknown all season by all the apostles around him, except for these closest ones who had been near his tomb...

...and, in the end, he was risen.

In the final group scene, Gabriel returned, everyone who couldn't see him at first then saw him there, and he judged them all accordingly by saying that Heaven and Hell were not up to scratch.

Parousia is from the Greek and also means presence. The concessions stands part of the theatre in the opening titles remains vacant all season. No one's eating or drinking anything in the story, either... or getting much of the thing for which food and drink is also symbolic in Good Omens. They are largely pushing away being present and abandoning the mindfulness that parousia also is, in addition to being a word referring to The Second Coming.

The other episode where we can see The Parousia on the wall again is the very last one of S2-- "Every Day."

The episode is not entitled "Everyday", like how the song title is worded. It is entitled "Every Day," as in... every bloody day. The only other place where it appears like this in the story in S2 is that, during the season, on one of the graves in the opening title sequence is "Every Day"... likely symbolic of how we face the impending arrival of death every day, of how we choose to live is up to us, of how worn down we can get by life sometimes, and of how that can push us into crisis. Our conflicts and struggles come back around and that's really what The Second Coming is. Like with our personal armageddons, we can stop them but they might come back around. We face the conflicts of parousia all the time.

All of S2, when you think about it, is Aziraphale and Crowley's stuff coming back around to haunt them again. It's the second coming of Good Omens itself-- a second season of the show-- and it's a second coming around of the same issues from S1. It's become time for a judgement call to be made on some things by Crowley and Aziraphale in their own lives together and that has prompted a second coming of their conflicts returning.

I don't think that we need Jesus in the rest of the story because we've already rolled back the tomb on a guy with a savior complex a mile wide. It's this kind and judgy bitch right here...

[accio-sriracha]

WIP Game

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

I was tagged by both @ephemeralstarss and @bradleysass ..... You guys realise I have over 100 wips, right?😭

I literally don't know this many people so OPEN TAGS!! Please tag me in your posts so I can see your wips!!

(Because of the sheer amount, if you want to ask about a fic just ask in the comments of this post and I will respond there, feel free to ask about as many as you'd like!)

All 131 titles after the cut <3

Drarry:

The Honeymoon

What You Think You Know

The Next Morning

Truth Be Told, It Happened Again

What Happened In The Dark

On The Ministry's Galleon

Six Feet Deep

Lovesick

The Slytherin Bet

Wounds That Heal Us

A Heart For The Holidays

The World Around Us

Hopeless Infatuations

Oh, To Be Loathed

The Boy Who Lived

Something To Run To

Panic

Changes

To Capture Or Kill

You Only Live Once

A World On Fire

If Not You Than Nothing

A Marriage of Convenience

Smoke and Mirrors

Empty Promises

First Priorities

Falling into Memories

Professors

Through Dangers Of War

The Scars Kept Hidden

Everything I’m Not

Golden Hours and Pyrrhic Victories

Coffee At Yours

Save The Last Dance For Me

What Once Was Gold

Wolfstar:

Revenge

Hearing You

Dreaming Of You

Clashing Teeth

Looking For This?

Four Places At Once

The Full Moon

Interruptions

Silence

The After Party

The People We Become

If We Should Fall

Waking Up Beside You

Venture or Veritaserum

The Intimacy Of Being Understood

Friends To Lovers (But They Were Never Just Friends)

A Tale From The Beast Himself

Kissing Number Three

An Odd Announcement

Letters From You

Schedule

Head First

Dear You, Love Me

Fresh Coffee and Split Knuckles

Sirius And The Black Family Trauma

Wherefore Art Thou?

The Enchanted Mistletoe

Affection

In Your Shoes

What Once Was Mine

Sirius Black Fucked Everything Up

The War Won't Wait For Us

Catching Feelings

Whatever It Takes

The Summer We Fell

To Ache Is To Be Alive

Of But Flesh And Bones

The Road Trip

How To Prank Sirius Black

Take My Name And Make It Yours

What You Make Of Me

XOXO -Moony <3

Moonlight Miracles

Jegulus:

My Brother’s Best Friend

Stuck In Your Head

I Want You

First Time?

The Night In The Tower

A Hostage Situation

A Good Memory

Who I am (Is In Love With You)

Nice Speech, Potter!

To Be Known

Everything To Lose

Lily’s Ex Boyfriend

To Fall For The Fallen

If Not For Wings

Chasing Stars

The Brother Next Door

The Play

Once Upon A Time

The 7 Stages Of Falling In Love

Jegulily:

Him or Her

Woe Is The Man Who Falls

When Two Becomes Three

Jily:

Soda, Secrets, and Stereos

To Be Together Is To Be Home

Finally

Marylily:

Smoke Hazed Conversations

Dorlene:

What Aligns Within Us

Rosekiller:

Born of Hatred, Living in Fear

General:

Falling Into You

Pretend To Love Me

The Road To Nowhere

Hurts Like Hell

That Time of Month

Making Our Mothers Sad

You Are Not My Father

He Was Mine First

Returned To Sender

Hold Your Tongue

Where The Sun Shines

Marauder Ever After

If It Comes To It

Where The Lines Blur

The Good Brother

James Potter’s Love Affair

The Breakfast Club

The Princes of Polaris

Hey, It’s Me Again.

Fated Misunderstandings

Lily Evans and the Marauders

It’s In The Eyes

The Words You Spoke (And The Ones You Didn’t)

The Stars In Your Name

Life After Death

[ravennaortiz]

Prologue

Summary: Tara hires Clay's Daughter as a Nanny to help with the kids in an attempt to give her and Jax more time alone to repair their relationship. She does this as a punishment for Gemma who is not allowed to see the kids. Unfortunately Clay's Daughter has her own power play in mind and it doesn't stop with just getting Jax to cheat.

As always 18+.

Moodboard and Masterlist

Revenge is best served unexpected and your always a villain in someone elses story. Those were two sayings that Nova Morrow lived by. Which made her more like her father than she liked if she was honest. If hate could be bottled up and drank she would swear the Morrow lineage would become immortals the way it fueled them. Hate, anger and resentment is the trilogy they fed off. Belittling, bullying and spilling blood was simply how you handled other people. But what happens when a Morrow turns that ire on another Morrow?

What about when the apple wishes it fell far far away from the tree? Or when the tree makes it clear it was never an apple tree and the apple was a mistake? Then when the apple is finally feeling free for the first time and they can see salvation only for it to be ripped away because someone couldn’t mind her own damn business. The apple has a choice. Become the tree or kill the tree. The thing with trees is though….you gotta kill the roots too……right?

These are just some of the things Nova Morrow has pondered over the last few years. Especially when she started realizing she was seeing more of her father when she looked in the mirror than herself. Something among the many that she hated herself for lately. She had made a vow to her mom as she sat Virgil on her deathbed that she would not let Clay Morrow ruin her life. That she would not let him rule her and sculpt her like he did her poor mother. She had also promised her mom that she would get out of Charming and find herself a good man who would never use her, direct his anger at her or slice her open with hurtful words. Something she had almost succeeded in until that fateful day Tara Knowles stuck her nose where it did not belong.

Unknowingly Tara set off a chain of events that not only destroyed her relationship with Nova who had always looked up to her like she was the sister she never had. But it destroyed countless other relationships, whether they be family, friend or ally. Broken souls, hopes, hearts and homes were left in the aftermath of self-destructive Nova Morrow.

A little girl who lost her mom and just wanted to be loved. A teenager living the Cinderella story to not only a cruel step mother but also to a monster of a father. People who should want to protect her but only used her as pawn in their own twisted game of lies. A young woman just wanting to live her life free of the not only the Morrow name but also the Teller. Too almost be free only to be drug back and beaten into submission. Shaped into her weak willed mother……at least that’s what they thought. But Nova Morrow was just a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Simply waiting for the shepherdess to be away to sneak in and play.

Love. It’s a weird thing isn’t it? A simple four letter word. But its meaning complex and ever changing, depending on who is involved. Love wins. But does it? Does love ever really eradicate hate? Are those four letters powerful enough to piece together a lost and broken soul? To sneak under the armour of a young woman who is like a scared dog just snapping at any touch no matter how gentle or how wanted.

“Nova” stated Jax again quietly his hands in the air as his chest heaved. His icy blue eyes still wide with a hint of fear as the point of the butcher knife pressed firmly against his chest. His heart pounding as he watched the turmoil and indecision in his step sister’s eyes. He glanced up and made eye contact with Chibs who had his gun only halfway up and clearly losing the battle of taking the shot. “Put the blade down Nova. We can talk this out” stated Jax as he swallowed hard as he heard Thomas and Able call out excitedly hi Uncle Juice and Uncle Halfsack on the baby monitor before he saw the two men enter.

“Talking didn’t work with my dad. Why would it be different with you?” questioned Nova quietly as her eyes cleared up and hardened but she moved the blade away from him and stepped back.

[hoe4hotchner]

Hola chica | [D.M]

Pairing: Derek Morgan x fem!Reader | WC: 2k  | CW: Romance, reader is nicknamed chica in this, no use of Y/N, reader lives in California for the sake of living far away from quantico | Summary: The bittersweet nature of short-lived connections |

A/N: The song is in Danish and I've had this in my drafts for months and forgot to post it.

Based on this

The club was alive with people and pulsing music, all wrapped up in the heat and rhythm of a Friday night in Jamaica. Morgan had only meant to have one drink and unwind a little, but this place – with its energy and crowd – had drawn him in. And then… so did you.

You were standing near the bar, the flash of neon lights illuminating your face in quick, playful bursts, your laughter unmistakable even over the music. His gaze landed on you, and in that moment, nothing else seemed quite as captivating. His usual confidence kicked in, and he moved through the crowd toward you, a smirk already in place as he reached you.

“Hola, chica,” he greeted, his tone smooth and warm.

You looked him up and down, eyes flashing with interest but also a little mischief. “Hola, yourself,” you replied, giving him a once-over that was as blatant as it was teasing. “Coming on a little strong, don’t you think?”

Morgan laughed, caught off guard by your boldness but more than ready to play along. “Well, I figured I’d try my luck,” he said with a shrug, the smirk still in place. “Besides, with a look like that, I doubt you’re here just for the drinks.”

You tilted your head, tapping your chin in mock consideration. “Well, you’re not wrong. But I’m also not usually one for smooth talkers,” you teased, leaning in a little closer. “You think you’re charming enough to change my mind?”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out,” he replied, flashing you a confident grin as he extended his hand. “Dance with me?”

You raised a brow, your eyes glinting with playful skepticism as you took his hand. “Alright, but you better bring your A-game, smooth talker,” you warned, letting him lead you onto the dance floor.

Once there, the music seemed to shift around you both, and the two of you fell into a natural rhythm together, your movements synced as if you’d done this a hundred times before. Morgan's hands settled at your waist, pulling you closer, and you couldn’t resist leaning in, your lips just a whisper away from his ear.

“So, tell me,” you murmured, letting your fingers trace lightly over his shoulder, “is this your thing? Sweeping women off their feet in crowded clubs?”

He laughed, shaking his head, though he seemed to enjoy the teasing. “Only when I run into someone who knows how to keep me on my toes.”

“Oh, I can keep you on your toes,” you shot back, giving him a little wink. “Though I have to say, for a guy who looks like he works out more than he dances, you’re not half bad.”

“Not half bad?” he repeated with an amused scoff. “I think I deserve a little more credit than that.”

You hummed, pretending to weigh his words. “Maybe… but I’ll have to see if you’re still as charming after a couple more songs.” You leaned back, studying him with that same mischievous smile as you moved, pushing him just enough to see if he’d keep up with you.

He grinned, leaning into the challenge. “Oh, I can keep this going all night, sweetheart.”

The banter continued, each of you throwing in little jabs and flirtatious challenges, keeping the tension alive as the music slowed, and the air between you seemed to grow heavier. Finally, the song shifted again, and he pulled you just a little closer, one hand sliding to the small of your back.

“So,” he said, his voice a low rumble against the beat, “are you going to let me know your name, or are we sticking with ‘chica’?”

“Depends,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Are you planning on remembering it?”

“Try me,” he countered, his smile daring you to give in.

With a small laugh, you leaned in, lips close to his ear, and finally whispered your name. “But don’t go thinking this means I’m easy to impress,” you added, pulling back with a cheeky smile.

Morgan shook his head, clearly loving every bit of the challenge. “I wouldn’t dare, chica,” he said, his hand still lingering at your waist. “But don’t go thinking you’re the only one with a few tricks up your sleeve.”

The night continued, and though the teasing and banter stayed strong, there was an unmistakable spark, something that made it harder and harder to let go of each other as the night wore on. And when the crowd finally began to thin, you found yourselves standing off to the side, his hand still resting comfortably at your waist, neither of you quite willing to call it a night.

“I should probably get going,” he said reluctantly, glancing at his watch but making no move to step back. “But… only if you let me see you again. Maybe tomorrow?”

You pretended to think it over, that teasing smile back on your lips. “Guess I could give you a second chance, Derek Morgan,” you said, then added with a smirk, “if only to see if you’re as smooth in the daylight as you are under the moon.”

He chuckled, handing you his phone to put your number in. “Trust me, chica, I’m even better.”

“Bold claim,” you replied, putting your number into his phone. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

The sun was warm on your skin as you stepped out onto the sand, the soft breeze carrying the scent of salt and ocean. You shaded your eyes, scanning the beach until you spotted him. Morgan stood near the waterline, a surfboard propped under one arm, a familiar, easy smile lighting up his face as he waved you over.

“Morning, chica,” he called, his voice smooth and warm, his grin every bit as charming in the daylight.

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips as you approached. “I should’ve known you’d have something up your sleeve. Surfing, really?”

“What, you don’t think I can teach you?” he asked, arching a brow, his smile teasing as he held out the surfboard to you. “It’s not that hard. And besides, I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

“Good thing, because I plan on falling. A lot,” you replied, accepting the board and following him to the water. “You think you’re up for it, smooth talker?”

“Oh, I’m always up for a challenge,” he said with a smirk, stepping into the shallow water and gesturing for you to follow.

What started as a lesson quickly turned into both of you slipping and sliding, each failed attempt filled with laughter. You’d barely stand up on the board before losing your balance, Morgan was always there to keep you from tumbling too far. His laughter was as warm as the sun overhead, the sound infectious as he encouraged you, showing you little tricks to stay on the board longer each time.

“Alright,” he said at one point, crossing his arms and watching you with a grin as you struggled to balance on the board. “This time, feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees. And don’t look down.”

“Easy for you to say,” you teased, holding your arms out for balance. “You make it look so natural.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Let’s just say it’s taken a lot of practice to make it look this good.”

“Oh, confident, are we?” You shot him a playful look as you managed to stand for a few seconds before wobbling, quickly tipping forward with a small yelp as you fell into the water.

Morgan laughed, reaching down to help you up. “Can’t blame me for being good at what I do. But I’ll give you credit — you’ve got determination.”

“Determination and not much else,” you said with a breathless laugh, wiping the water from your face as you caught your breath. “But I’ll take it.”

He grinned, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. “I think it suits you just fine.”

As the day wore on, the two of you traded playful banter, his teasing comments making you laugh until your sides hurt. Morgan's charm was effortless, each joke drawing you closer, each smile making the world around you disappear. And when the sun began to set, casting the beach in shades of orange and pink, you found yourselves sitting together on the sand, watching the waves roll in.

“Today was fun,” he said, a warmth in his gaze that had you feeling like you were the only person on that beach.

You looked at him, the glow of the sunset lighting up his features, and couldn’t help but smile back. “More than I’ve had in a long time.”

“Good,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours as a quiet moment passed between you.

As you sat on the beach next to Morgan, the laughter and fun of the past few days played back in your mind like a highlight reel, and a weight settled in your chest.

“Last day, huh?” he said, his tone matching your own melancholy. He leaned back on his elbows, his gaze fixed on the horizon as the waves lapped at the shore.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter than usual. “I can’t believe it’s already time to go home. It feels like I just got here.”

“Trust me, I know how you feel,” he said, turning to look at you. “I’ve had the best time, too. You make it hard to think about leaving.”

You chuckled softly, the sound tinged with sadness. “I never expected to meet someone like you here. It’s been… really nice.”

Morgan's expression softened, and he sat up, leaning closer. “I get it. I mean, we just clicked, right? It’s rare to find someone you can have so much fun with in such a short time.”

“Right?” you said, feeling the sting of tears as you fought to keep them at bay. “I wish I could stay here. No work — no responsibilities.”

His eyes held yours. “You don’t have to forget me. Just because you’re going home doesn’t mean this has to be the end.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you bit your lip, searching for the right words. “But what if I don’t see you again? What if you forget me?”

“Chica, I could never forget you,” he assured, his voice low and sincere. “I mean it. I’ll hold onto these memories. You have my number.”

You nodded, a small smile breaking through your sadness. “Yeah, but will it be the same? We’ll be miles apart.”

Morgan reached for your hand. “It doesn’t have to be. We can keep in touch. I want to know how you’re doing. I want to hear about everything — your life back home, your adventures, all of it.”

“Really?” you asked, feeling a flicker of hope.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come visit you in California.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, and for a moment, the sadness eased. “That would be amazing. Just promise me you won’t forget the fun we had.”

“Promise,” he said, his expression earnest. “I won’t forget a single moment.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your heart racing as the moment stretched between you, filled with an unspoken connection that had grown over the past few days. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, moving even closer. “You’re one of a kind, and I’m not letting go that easily.”

With the sun casting a warm glow around you, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a gentle kiss, one that felt like a promise.

When you pulled away, he sported a grin that made your heart flutter. “See? Not forgetting anytime soon.”

You laughed softly, feeling lighter despite the heaviness of the impending goodbye. “I guess you’re right. And who knows? Maybe this isn’t the last chapter of our story.”

“Definitely not.”

“No matter where we are, I hope I’ll always have a piece of Jamaica and you with me.”

[darlingsfandom]

hi, i love your fanfics i hope you accept requests💘. 

i have an idea based on the new photos of Cillian from the oscars. imagine that Cillian and his girlfriend came to the oscars and everyone on the internet started praising her and saying how beautiful she is (I want her to be an iconic girl who knows all the trends and is super cool and funny). and then how they sit in a hotel and she shows him different posts about them and she also makes funny videos on tiktok that get a ton of likes and in the comments they write "cillian is so lucky" , “can Cillian fight” etc.

Sorry it's so long, I love you and your work🫶🫶🫶

hi honey ! You’re so sweet💕 thank you!

fluff ✨

not proofread

Award season had arrived which meant Cillian was going to make his annual trip outside of the house and everyone was going to know about it thanks to you. To most the fact that Cillian was twelve years older than you seemed odd, but his fans understood.

The Oscars had Cillian out and about. You were along side him taking behind the scenes photo of the two of you getting ready. The photo of you leaving a lipstick stain on his neck got the most amount of likes in the shortest amount of time. Cillian didn’t really get the whole social media appeal , but he knew it made you happy so he did what he could to help you out.

When the two of you showed up to the red carpet you stood off to the side live streaming what you could. All the snapping lights and people yelling over each other for Cillian to look at them made you smile because he had been working so hard and deserved his time to shine , but he had other ideas. He called for you to come over to which some of the people were confused because they didn’t know the two of you were together. You ended the live stream so you could be with him. The photos were just like any other couples, his hand on your waist while you kept your hand on his chest while looking at him with adoration to which he looked at you the same way.

During the actual award show you sat with Cillian holding his hand while he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. The two of you shared little kisses every now and then as the night went on. You made sure to get some sneaky photos of Cillian to keep for yourself and other nice photos to share across your platform. The photo of him with his cheese plate got more interaction with silly comments than any other post that night, well it was a close second to the lipstick photo.

When the award show ended the two of you found yourself being interviewed but of course both of you just wanted to go home and sleep. Back at the hotel that evening Cillian had agreed to appearing on your live stream to answer a few questions, so after getting comfortable for the evening that’s what the two of you did.

It started off nice and people saying how much they love him, how great of an actor he was and how pretty you are! Cillian agreed when you read that comment out loud.

“Prettiest gal I know! Which makes me the luckiest man alive.” To which he cupped your face and kissed you slowly with a hint of passion. Your head spun a million miles a minute until he pulled away and left you blushing like crazy. The viewers were going nuts!

“is he as good of a kisser is he looks?” You read out loud before nodding quickly with a soft smile on your face. “Best kisser ever!” You pecked his lips quickly before he raised an eyebrow.

“Kiss me again and we’re ending this early.” Cillian squeezed your thigh tightly making you swallow a moan before looking into your camera.

“You head the man, it’s time for us to go. We love you all! Bye.” You never ended that quickly but the way Cillian was looking at you had you ready to jump him right on camera .

[dragon-susceptible]

Different Path Taken Ch11: Forgiveness

The second scene of this chapter is what was previously posted as a bonus scene between Skor and Runaan. The first part is that long-overdue talk for Andromeda and Rayla. Fun fact, once put together, they make the chapter exactly 3k words long.

Ram had forgiven her.  Skor had been soft with her ever since the Banther Lodge and her confrontation with the general, apparently considering that experience punishment enough for her lie.  Callisto seemed to be nonchalant about it all, treating Rayla like a team member again with no more guardedness than he used against all of them save for Skor and Runaan.

She had done something very brave and very selfless, and Andromeda just . . . 

Wanted to talk to her friend again.

It just still hurt.

“Rayla?” She asked as the princes settled down to bed and she saw the younger girl finish setting up her own tent. “Can I speak with you?”

Rayla looked startled at the request, her ears tilting back with surprise, and she had to tuck the braid Runaan had given her back behind one. “Now?” She asked.

“I mean, before you sleep.” Andromeda said, uncertain what else Rayla could be busy with at the moment, though she noticed now that her brows were furrowed and she seemed to be troubled. 

“Yeah.” Rayla took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Yeah, we can talk.  It - now’s fine.” 

Andromeda almost started at the very large presence she suddenly sensed beside her elbow as Runaan passed her.  She hadn’t noticed him get up from his tent entrance. “When you are finished,” He said lowly, “Come speak with me, Andromeda.” He looked over at Rayla. “I trust Ram has already informed you of his concerns?” 

His concerns?

Rayla nodded to her father, that troubled look back on her young face.

“Then you may come with her to discuss it or not as you wish.  I’m going to speak with Callisto and Skor before they go to bed.  Find me when you’re done.” Runaan directed the instruction back to Andromeda and slipped away to the other older assassins.

She would get the news out of him when she reported to him after, Andromeda supposed, and suppressed her curiosity for now to focus on Rayla.  She stepped away from her tent, where the princes were resting, and crossed the camp to sit on the rocks nearer Ram and Skor’s tents.  Rayla followed her and perched nearby.

“Rayla . . .” Andromeda trailed off, and rubbed her face tiredly before looking over at the girl. “You did something very brave today.” She said finally. “And I think it was wonderful of you, and I want to be so proud of you for doing it.”

Rayla shrank the longer she talked, and her ears were nearly held flat when she looked up over her knees at Andromeda. “But you’re still upset.”

“Yes.” Andromeda sighed, and adjusted her shorts so that the lines lined up with her tattoos again.

“I’m sorry.” Rayla said dejectedly. “I know I should have just killed that guard, but if I had, we never would have found the egg or started all this.  I don’t know what to think.  But I’m sorry I put us all in danger like that.  I just - I never thought about how afraid humans must be of dyin’, if they don’t know death like we do.”

Andromeda shook her head in frustration. “I’m not angry at you for not killing the soldier, Rayla.  That’s on Runaan for judging you ready when you weren’t.” She said flatly. “I’m angry that you lied about it.  If you just had told us the truth, we hadn’t taken our oath yet.  We weren’t on a timer.  We could have just waited for the next full moon when their guard eased a little, when we had more time to investigate the place; the dragons would have waited.  But you didn’t say anything, we discovered it from the soldier after we were already bound to the mission.  You were going to let us run right into a trap, Rayla!” She cried, spreading her hands. “It’s hard not to feel like you were just throwing our lives away because you didn’t want to face the consequences.”

Rayla flinched. “I didn’t mean to!” She protested. “I asked Runaan - I talked to him about what would happen if they knew we were comin’.  I didn’t know how t’ say it, because I should have been able to handle it, and I wasn’t.  I was ashamed!”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed that you had mercy, Rayla.” Andromeda said firmly, though the whole thing still sat bitterly in her chest. “You have a kind, selfless heart, and it’s what made you that little boy’s hero today.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  I just . . . It hurts that you lied to us.  What did you think we would do?  Did you really think we’d all just kill you?  That Runaan would let us kill you?”

Rayla looked down at the ground, ears pulled flat to her head. “He almost did.” She said softly. 

Andromeda blinked at her, taken aback by the statement.  She’d thought Rayla didn’t trust the rest of them, not Runaan. “What?”

“He said he wanted to speak for me, but he didn’t.” Rayla said, frowning at the ground. “If it doesn’t matter what my mistake led to, it doesn’t matter what he’s said since then.  I know how I feel about him, I know how he feels, but that didn’t matter then!  We weren’t-” She broke off and rested her face in her folded arms, just her eyes showing above them. “I didn’t want him t’be ashamed of me like my parents, an’ then, he didn’t even defend me, Callisto did, and I . . . I was scared, Andromeda.  I wasn’ afraid of dyin’, I was afraid that he hated me.”

Andromeda stared at her, and then looked over to where Runaan was talking quietly to Skor and Callisto.  She couldn’t imagine Runaan hating almost anyone, least of all Rayla. “Has he ever said anything to make you think he could?” She asked, shocked, but concerned nonetheless.

When Rayla didn’t answer right away she looked back, and the girl was picking at her own boots. “No.  It’s not his fault, it’s my parents.  I know they loved me - I thought they loved me.  But they left me for a duty they didn’t even believe in!  What am I supposed to think?  And if they didn’t, how can I expect Runaan to- to be anythin’ but my leader?” 

Her eyes were welling with tears and Andromeda’s heart went out to her despite her anger at the lie.  Oh.  Oh, this lie had nothing to do with the rest of them. “Rayla . . . you sweet child, Runaan loves you more than anything.  I know Skor suggested we kill you, but no one really expected Runaan to agree.  He didn’t.  We weren’t taking his opinion because we know what his judgment is like with you.  He would have defended you, love.  We knew that.”

For once Rayla didn’t even protest being called a child.  She wiped tears from her eyes and stared at the ground. “I’m sorry I lied.  You’re right, I should ha’ just come clean from the beginnin’, but I was so scared my failure would mean I’m just like them.  I couldn’t let that happen, an’ then I just got in too deep and it was too late.  I’m sorry.  I know I was wrong.” She hunched in on herself even further.

Oh, this poor girl.  Andromeda scrubbed her own face tiredly as she felt her own anger and frustration ease.  She was still hurt, but it made sense.  Rayla was only 15, this was her very first mission, and it was so emotionally charged for her.  If it weren’t for how poorly the village treated the children of Ghosts, and how this mission was meant to be a relatively easy strike for vengeance that would have spared her that shame, Andromeda would have thought Runaan foolish and selfish to bring her.  Of course it was going to lead to problems, if Rayla wasn’t quite ready, if she made any mistakes or hesitated even once.  She couldn’t blame the girl for being messed up by her complicated family situation.

“Rayla?”

“Andromeda?”

“I forgive you.” Andromeda said clearly, and watched as Rayla looked up at her in surprise. “I’m still hurt, and it will take time before I’m okay again.  I understand why you did it, but you still hurt me.  But I also see how much my pain matters to you, and I know you wouldn’t do it again.  You might not kill the next person, but you won’t lie about it, and that’s what I was really angry about.  So I forgive you.” 

Rayla gave her a shaky smile. “Thanks, Andromeda.  I dunno if I deserve it . . . but thank ye.  Still friends?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes.  Still friends.” Andromeda leaned over and hugged her, and Rayla clung to her like she was drowning for a moment.  Yes, still friends with Rayla, though she had a few choice words for Runaan.  He needed to know how his distance was fucking with his own child. “You’re a good kid, Rayla.” They just needed to remember how young she really was.  She was of age, with her horns fully grown and stained with their adult patterns, but she was still only 15, with all the turmoil that came with, and young enough to need guidance.  It was easy to forget sometimes when her skill and talent brought her toe-to-toe with Runaan already when they trained.

“I’ve missed ye.” Rayla confessed, still leaning on her shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too, Rayla.” Andromeda hugged her tighter for a moment and smiled at her after letting her go. “And - the others are right.  You did a very brave thing today saving the toad.  I’m proud of you too.”

Rayla gave her a real smile that time. “Thanks, Andromeda.”

Unfortunately, that was about when Andromeda remembered Runaan’s summons.  She glanced over to check where he was, and he was seated a little further from Skor and Callisto, obviously waiting for her.  She’d said what she really needed to say, she supposed. “Rest well, Rayla, when you do.” She settled on saying. “And I’m glad to be talking to you again.  I need to go talk to Runaan.”

“I’m comin’ with ye.  Now that the princes are asleep, I want to hear what he has to say about what Ram said.” Rayla unfolded herself, wiping her face clean, that troubled look back on her face.  Andromeda agreed, puzzled, and met Runaan near the other two, with Ram soon joining them to discuss the younger man’s suspicions.

Andromeda didn’t like the sound of them one bit, but Runaan cautioned against stressing too much and she tried to take comfort in this advice.  In the end, the others were all sent to bed with instructions to take what rest they could get.  Andromeda took the first watch, as the princes were in her tent tonight; she would wake Ram and take his tent later, and the rest of them would cycle through in that manner.  It didn’t escape her notice that Skor never left Callisto’s tent after settling them there, though, and she wondered how that would go when Ram went to wake him for his watch. 

Twenty years of this duty had made Runaan a light sleeper whenever he was outside the shelter of his home hollow - or his husband's arms - and he woke enough to be aware of it when Ram handed the night's watch over to Skor. He blinked through the darkness at them, confused for a moment. Since the addition of the children, they'd all been alternating tents; the princes stayed in the tent of the first watch, and they traded through the other five as the night went on. This time Skor showed his teeth at Ram for even ducking towards the tent he emerged from. Waking up a little further to look, it was clear enough as to why - he had been in Callisto's, and the wounded elf was still asleep inside.

As Skor went to sit on the watcher's perch and Ram obediently backed off and went to sleep in Skor's empty tent, Runaan sighed deep and low and pushed himself out of his bedroll. He needed to talk to his friend.

Skor was silent when Runaan sat down next to him, though he glanced over to acknowledge his approach.

“Callisto?” Runaan prompted softly.

Asleep. Skor signed.

Runaan raised an eyebrow at him. “Your throat?”

Shouting over the water.

“Ah.” Runaan shifted to face him, to see his hands better. “So. Callisto is worth holding a numbing spell over, but when I needed stitches a year ago . . .”

Skor rolled his eyes. “You were fine.” He signed pointedly.

“I am.” Runaan agreed, but tilted his head at his friend. “But that isn't why this was different.”

Skor didn't deny it, just cast his gaze back down from the tree to watch the occasional sign of the tracker they'd picked up over the course of the day. They had finally caught up a bit after night fell, though they weren't too daring getting closer.

Runaan watched him for a moment and then glanced back at the tent, which Skor had shut firmly behind him when he left it. He felt Skor's tension rise when he looked, and gave him another pointed look in response.

“Say what you want to say, Master of Blades.” Skor signed with a flat look through his hair.

Runaan sighed. “You are both very dear friends of mine.” He said softly. “I will not ask for details, because I do not want them if he comes to me. I will not be your go-between. But Skor, as your friend, I have to ask, are you happy?”

Skor looked at him sharply.

“You need connection so much more than he does.” Runaan met his gaze. “Are you certain you're happy with the distance he keeps?”

His friend blinked at him and then looked back at the tent, then at the forest. “You know me well, but he knows me better,” Skor replied carefully. “You are right that I need connection, but I have enough. He gives me the space to be who I am now. Yes, I am happy.”

“Even with the distance he keeps from you?”

Skor closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “He is afraid of leaving someone to grieve. I am afraid of leaving someone I love. We aren't . . . We both need time to change, before we can be more than this, Runaan.”

“You are already more than just friends, Skor. We all see it in how you care for each other.”

“I know.” Skor said, a bit sadly. “But committing is too dangerous for us both. We aren't you, Runaan, or Andromeda.”

It was somewhat true that he and Andromeda were the odd ones out. Most assassins married within the guild, fought and died together, or remained unmated until they had left it. The problem was that Runaan knew how dedicated both Skor and Callisto were to the guild, and knew in his sinking heart that neither would ever leave it. “Will you wait forever for him?” he asked softly. “If you had a chance to retire, to have the family you wanted when you were young-”

“That chance is long gone, Runaan. I lost that dream when I was sixteen.” Skor cut him off with a gesture, and touched his unmarked throat meaningfully. “Even if I left, had children, I would never be able to speak to them, tell them stories, sing them songs, the way I wanted to back then.”

“A voice is not a requirement for fatherhood, Skor.”

“No. But it was part of that dream. My hopes have changed, Runaan. Callisto is worth waiting for. If they are never ready, I will be all right, so long as I have them close to my heart.” He touched the braid that Runaan knew Callisto had placed in his hair. “Maybe one day, my friend. But not yet. We aren't ready.”

Runaan watched his face for a moment, seeing only sincerity, a bit of thoughtfulness, and sighed slowly. “I will not pry further. But things have not changed between you for nearly ten years, Skor. I truly hope you both find peace within yourselves, because watching you is beginning to be painful for me.”

Skor smirked at him broadly. “Now you know how everyone else felt when Ethari moved to the Silvergrove.”

Runaan rolled his eyes, but Skor wasn't done.

“And how Rayla feels whenever he shows to the training grounds with a new scar on his jaw from your horns.”

“Yes, yes.” Runaan's cheeks turned faintly pink under his tattoos and he cleared his throat. “I take your point.”

“Not as much as you take -”

“I'm not listening to this anymore.” Runaan pointedly looked away before Skor finished the sentence, and stood up from the branch. “I just wanted to check on you and this is how you betray me.”

When he looked back down, Skor's smile was a little more sincere. “Thank you, my friend. I am all right, I promise.”

“Good. Will you wake him for his turn on watch?”

“What do you take me for?”

“A man very much in love.” Runaan replied bluntly, and his heart ached at how Skor's smile faded a little and he looked away. “Wake me early for mine, if you insist on letting him sleep. Do not exhaust yourself for him.”

Skor nodded. “I will wake you.”

“Good night, Skor. Moon watch over you.”

Skor replied with an old, traditional sign that meant Moon watch over us all, and Runaan dropped down from the branch to return to his tent. While it comforted him that Skor seemed genuinely content with how things were, he still wished for a resolve to this dance his friends had been doing. They seemed all right, but it hadn’t escaped his notice that Skor never said he was happy. Callisto never did, either.

He couldn’t force them into it, though. He just hoped providing what little counsel he could would be enough.

[blxxmingrose]

seeing the turmoil take over june felt like a sharp pain in hans’ heart, like he was being stabbed over and over again. there was a quiet moment of reprieve when june was reading through the list that made hans feel at ease at first—as much as he could under these circumstances, but then hearing the strain in june’s voice, the discomfort so evident in his words, it was too much for hans to take. 

he took his hand, leaving him no room but to stay still, no room to retract it. “you did the right thing,” he whispered gently, his eyes trained on june, letting him see the resolve there. they always worked like this. if one had a moment of indecision or weakness, the other one had to be strong. “you came back to us safe, and now we are talking about what we can do.” 

there was not much they could do, but they were trying. 

hans took a deep breath, one that felt heavy and filled with his own worries, but he wanted to let them out. to not allow them to take room in his body, in their home. “i don’t like that they were here either—seeing us meant confirming that we were here. that whatever information they had gathered, it had been true, they now know where we live.” the words felt like more wounds to hans’ heart, knowing what it implied. their safety could no longer be assured in the foreseeable future. “but i’d take it. i’d take it over you going after them and—” he couldn’t bear to finish the sentence, couldn’t bear to say out loud all the many ways that could have ended. 

instead, he pulled june into a tight embrace, the tightest he could manage, the tears quickly falling down his cheeks now. “you are everything to me. being able to plan right now, is so much better than not having you here because of them. i can’t bear it, june. i can’t.” it was as if all the attempts to be strong for their children, for their family, melted away, leaving hans with nothing but ugly thoughts holding him together. 

hans had felt the very real possibility of losing june several times, but nothing compared to this. the stakes were much higher, and as their love grew over time, the idea of losing him felt even more like losing a part of himself. because they were one, tied together by a vow and their souls united. if he lost june, he knew the tears wouldn’t stop, even if his eyes dried up. he knew his heart would never beat the same way again. and it would be the same if june lost him, the same if they lost their children, who were extensions of their love for each other. 

tears fell and fell until hans felt a numbness wash over him, like an inner voice telling him to gather himself. he was a father now, with a family to protect. with a husband to care for. he needed to keep it together.  

the sobs eventually subsided, and he settled into june’s arms with his fist tightly curled around his shirt, not willing to let go. they were meant to be resting, but he was not going to let june have any ideas about coming after them now. “just a little bit of rest,” he murmured, the crying making his voice raspy and more tired. “you need it. we both do.” as he pulled the blanket over june, he watched him carefully, relearning the details of his face hans had memorized long ago. 

he knew what every curve of his lips meant, every frown, every raised eyebrow. knew every twitch of his fingers, every sigh. he knew how frustrating this must be, but he also needed to remind june that this—being together like this—was a much more favorable move than anything else. “we will do what we can tomorrow, but please, get some rest. tomorrow, our children will need us to be at our very best.”

if tonight was a preview, then tomorrow could be even more challenging. they had no idea what the palace had planned, when they would start to move on them, but if they did, hans knew they both needed to be able to defend their family. and he knew saying this, reminding june of what they had to protect, would help him get some rest, even if, like hans, his entire body was fighting against it.

[kirk-goes-to-gallifrey]

my mum called to tell me my kitty cat has urinary tract infection T-T

I've been missing him so much dear god please don't take my cat while I'm on the other side of the world let me hold him again one more time please please please let him recover until I can get home to see him

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[pens-and-paperbacks]

"Vander and Silvo grew up like brothers! Them being together is weird!"

Ok, listen. You're valid, but listen. In the original universe we get, I completely agree. Vander nearly killing Silco and them fighting for dominance of Zaun is brother vs brother, power vs power activity. I don't think that universe went any further. There was no room for it to go beyond that betrayal and bitter feelings.

Within the Timebomb universe however I think they became something more after reconciling.

The letter was found, they talked it out, probably fought (which, head cannon, probably left Vander with a new scar somewhere we didn't see) but after that I think they saw each other in a new light. They were now on completely even footing, fighting for the exact same vision of Zaun in the exact same way, through peace vs violence because now they've seen what violence brings and they don't want that to happen ever again.

They don't want to lose each other again.

They only really had each other, Powder and Vi to take care of after losing their parents, which is what probably got them thinking about being together as a couple of they hadn't been thinking about it already.

I just can't read their reactions/looks in that universe in any other way. It's just too tender? I just look at them looking at each other and see, "unwavering devotion."

Two kings rule over Zaun in that universe and they're very happily married, despite everything that's happened. Because how could they not be after everything that's happened?

[diana-mohammed]

A Family's Unending Journey for Safety in Gaza

My name is Mohammed, and I’m 35 years old, working as a nurse in a hospital here in Gaza. My wife, Diana, is 27, and together we’re trying to give our two young daughters a safe, stable life in a place that knows so little of either.

Our journey began in December 2023. That was when the military ordered us to evacuate our home in Al-Nuseirat. With only minutes to decide, we grabbed what we could carry, took our little girls, and moved to Khan Yunis, hoping it would be safer.

But our time there was short. We were ordered to leave Khan Yunis, so we packed up again and moved to Rafah. For a moment, we let ourselves hope that this would be the end of our running, that maybe we could start to rebuild. But Rafah wasn't safe either. Another order came, and we had no choice but to return to Al-Nuseirat, despite the dangers.

Today, we're renting a small apartment in Al-Nuseirat. It barely fits us, but it's the only place we can go. We live every day in fear, wondering if the next evacuation order will come. Each move takes away a bit more of the stability we try so hard to create for our girls. Every time we’re forced to flee, it feels like we leave behind pieces of the life we’ve worked to build.

There’s little left to hold on to but each other, and the hope that maybe one day we’ll finally find safety.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #312 )✅️

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Mohammed & Diana