#character wakes up: fantasizes over kissing brother
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alltheoutsinfreeeee · 7 months ago
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is there any magical girl anime still out there that doesn't have any fanservice? Shows like Precure, Cardcaptor Sakura or Madoka?
And if there isn't, are there at least any shows where the fanservice isn't with elementary school girls?
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year ago
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The Fractured Moon - Part 4
Yandere! Moon Boys X f!Reader
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PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!
Not Beta Read - Series Masterlist
Summary:
After Steven's ruthless beating, you need time to recover, and the boys are going to show you how nice they can treat you, if only you'll let them, and as long as you behave.
Tags/Warnings (for entire series):
Disclaimer: I created this fic for the sole purpose of exploring the yandere thing as a fanfiction "kink" in a safe way and in a safe space. I in no way would want this to happen to myself or someone else. This fic is not a reflection of my moral beliefs. - Further, this fic is not an accurate representation of people with DID (dissociative identity disorder). These men happen to have DID and I'm putting them in a situation where they would have an unhealthy obsession with the reader character. NSFW, Stalking, non-con, somnophilia, rape, mentions of murder, drugged sex, kidnapping, manipulation, dacryphilia, voyeurism, threats of physical harm, copious amounts of sex, copious amounts of unprotected sex, blood, unrealistic refractory period, biting, slapping, hitting, reader is smol, choking. This is a Dead Dove Do Not Eat situation.
Word Count: 3.4k
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Marc was still afraid to take any unnecessary risks, so he kept your wrists tied to the dining room chair just in case. Marc fantasized about a time that you would be in complete submission to them. He dreamt of how nice it would be to wake with you in their bed, curled up into his chest while you slept soundly. He thought about what a wonder it would be to have you kissing him and begging him to make you feel good. He wanted you to want them.
Steven was delusional and Marc knew that. Maybe he was too, he thought. He wondered if it was delusional to think that one day he could have all those things. Every time he looked at you he felt a stab of guilt in his gut. When did things get so fucked up? This wasn’t the kind of person they were, and whenever Marc’s sanity broke through the barrier of his fantasy, he thought about letting you go. But then he thought about you out there where anyone could look at you, talk to you, touch you.
No.
“Your wounds are healing nicely honey,” he said, breaking the otherwise deafening silence in the dining room.
You nodded, still feeling a bit defeated from the beating Steven had dealt you over a week ago. Was it a week ago? You couldn’t remember how long it had been. It was hard to keep track of time there. When Marc mentioned the bruises you could still feel the sting left behind from Steven’s lashing. Your eyes darted to the floor quickly, not wanting to think about it.
“Hey,” Marc’s hand went out, finger tucking under your chin and turning your gaze back to meet his. “Jake and I told you we’d keep you safe, right? Remember? We told you we’d handle Steven? And he’s been much better to you, hasn’t he?”
You nodded slowly, bottom lip trembling while you thought about what his brother had done to you. Even with his and Jake’s reassurance that no further - serious - harm would come to you by Steven’s hands, you still didn’t dare to even touch yourself when the urge arose. If Steven’s goal was to frighten you into obedience, it had worked.
Every night, sometimes multiple times a night, Steven would fill you so full you were stuffed and dripping his cum for the rest of the evening. He was often the first person you’d see in the mornings too, taking your body and bending it to suit his needs. You were exhausted most days, and he showed no signs of stopping.
You couldn’t deny the sweetness that came with his insatiable sex drive though.
“Oh darling, you’re so pretty,” he’d say with his forehead against you, the tip of his nose touching yours. “I…I know you’re so sore and I’m so sorry but, mm-fuh–”
And then he’d come, spilling his hot white spend into your aptly stretched hole. His hips would stutter, and he’d look at you as though no one else in the world existed. Once in a while you even forgot yourself and felt tempted to reach out and touch his face, like you might want to lean forward and kiss those hooded, sex drunk eyelids of his.
But you resisted. 
The part of you that still wanted to fight for survival was stronger than that, and it was screaming inside of you to stay resilient. Sometimes Steven made you feel good though. When you were particularly achy, and full of so much cum you couldn’t hold anymore, he would kneel at the foot of the bed, drape your legs over his broad shoulders, and start cleaning and slurping his spend right out of you. He was better at that than the other two, and when he looked up at you from between your thighs with glossy lips and shoulders heaving with heavy breaths, you had to shake yourself from that small sense of adoration you falsely felt for him. 
He kidnapped you, he raped you, he beat you, you would remind yourself like a mantra over and over again until you were sick of it. You still needed to fight to survive this. You couldn’t accept that this was the end of the line for you. 
“M-Marc?” you whispered.
His entire face lit up to hear you speak his name in such a soft tone. Marc’s hand cupped your cheek gently, as though a firmer grip might break you. His thumb brushed over your skin softly, such a gentle touch for someone so monstrous.
“Yeah honey?”
You gulped, looking around to make sure that neither Steven nor Jake were going to show up before making your inquiry. If Steven, especially, heard you, you’d be in for another harsh reminder of your position and you knew it.
“Can I have those pills again?” You thought about how much they eased your pain before, and how sleepy they made you. If you were going to continue to survive, you would need something to help you get through for now until you came up with a plan.
“Oh, baby, last time I gave you those, Jake and I agreed with Steven that it wasn’t fair to him. I’m sorry I can’t–”
“Please,” you looked at him with such desperation it almost made him flinch.
Your eyes welled until they were nearly spilling over. If you were being honest, you were laying on the theatrics a bit, but another part of you was genuinely in need of something to ease the ache you felt when Steven made you a glorified sex doll. Marc finally nodded slowly and gave you a sympathetic half-smirk.
“Yeah, I’ll give you half a pill to hide in your bedside table. That should relax you enough without knocking you out. You can take it when you know Steven’s coming just…don’t let him see it, alright?” Marc raised his brow in emphasis. “I’m not worried for my sake but you…you know how he can get.”
You nodded eagerly, “yes,” a sigh of relief left your entire body, “yes, I promise.”
“Okay, I’ll get you one after you’re finished eating.”
Dinner was one of Marc’s favorite times of the day because it was one of the few times he got you all to himself. They each had a role to play in your day: waking up with Steven, the greedy little shit wanting you both before sleep and after. Marc took care of your bathing and meals, making sure each time he had you was nicer for you than the time before. Then there was Jake, giving you a firm hand in the early afternoon to make sure you learned to mind, and then making you play dress up and sit on his lap in his study shortly after dinner.
Marc liked to think he was different from the other two. He liked to think you needed him, like he was taking care of you and you wouldn’t be able to survive in this house without him. He was protecting you - as much as he could for being one of the three who did this to you - . But Marc felt justified in that he wasn’t hurting you, not really. He never struck you, and he wouldn’t. When you were afraid of the other two and looking for someone to comfort you, he would be your safe space.
Marc took a strawberry and lifted it to your mouth, watching intently as your precious lips parted to bite into the ripe fruit. He chuckled watching some of the juice drip down your chin.
“My messy little girl,” he cooed, wiping the juice from your chin and popping his thumb into your mouth.
His brow furrowed, feeling your tongue roll over his thumb. Marc’s dick sprang to life almost instantly while you teased him. No…he was starting to think like Steven. You weren’t teasing, you were just cleaning him off, but still…what if you knew exactly what you were doing to him? It was always possible that you wanted him but were just playing coy…right?
“That’s very good honey,” Marc pulled his hand back, “do you want some more?”
You nodded, feeding into his delusion that you did want this.
Marc moaned this time when you bit into the strawberry, more juice dripping down your chin and landing on your chest. He leaned in toward your face, his tongue darting out to lap up the mess and bring it to your lips. You let him in, and he wondered if you actually wanted to kiss him, or if you were just behaving because you were afraid of what may happen if you didn’t.
He didn’t really care at the moment, because you kissed like you wanted it. Your tongue melted with his, and he swore he heard a breathy whine roll up through your throat only to be muffled by the wet sounds of your mouths moving together.
“Fuck, baby,” Marc breathed as he pulled back, breaking the kiss plopping into his chair across from yours. “You’re so…” He couldn’t think of a word sufficient enough to describe the way you made him feel.
Despite yourself, the arousal was building between your legs after that kiss. Something about Marc did make things feel a little less horrible, even if you knew you shouldn’t feel that way. You were feeling yourself giving in, and you hated it.
You realized now how thirsty you were, like your mouth was dry and filled with cotton.
“P-please,” your voice was still a soft croak in the otherwise silent room. 
You looked at the glass full of red wine next to the rest of your meal. You gulped, looking back over at Marc and nodding. He smiled, bringing the glass to your lips and pouring it into your mouth. He started tipping the cup just a little before you drank faster and faster until it was gone. You breathed like you’d run a mile, licking the remnants of the sweet drink from your lips.
“Jeez honey, do you want some more?” He chuckled.
You nodded, watching him as he filled the glass once more and you chugged all of it down quickly. Marc having his way with you was inevitable, and since you knew that, you were going to make yourself at least a little numb to it. Perhaps you could even enjoy yourself without feeling completely guilty. If you were a bit buzzed then maybe you could forgive yourself later when you enjoyed the way he touched you.
Marc shouldn’t like you drunk, but he did. Something about how much happier you seemed to be made him feel at peace. It didn’t take you long to get there either, he could see your eyes start to droop a bit while you looked at him after a few more moments passed.
“Baby, I’m going to take these off your wrists and ankles,” he said, referring to the straps holding you against the chair. “I don’t think you’d be able to go anywhere even if you wanted to.”
He let out a lighthearted chuckle as he finished freeing your limbs. You stood up immediately, stretching your arms and legs to get the blood flow back through your body. You stumbled forward, and Marc stood fast to catch you. God you were so tiny. Sometimes he forgot just how small you were compared to them.
“Easy, easy,” he said, laughing while you leaned against his chest. “Let’s go sit you down in the living room.”
He helped you - basically carried you - to the living room, setting you down on the couch and sitting himself beside you. It didn’t take much, just a little nudge with his hand to get you to lay down on his lap. Marc rubbed your cheek softly with his thumb, looking down at your eyes and the way the fire from the crackling fireplace reflected in your pupils so prettily.
“There you go, just rest honey. If you get tired I’m sure Jake would understand.”
“Speak for yourself, pendejo.”
Marc didn’t reply, still certain he wanted to keep that insanity from you for now. Maybe once you were better adjusted he would feel more comfortable sharing more about his personal life, but until then, he would only subject you to one crazy thing at a time.
You shifted your face against his lap, your cheek brushing against the obvious tent he’d pitched from when he kissed you earlier. He didn’t think it would go away any time soon, but he could take care of himself later, or maybe even ignore and let Steven deal with it when he was fronting. It was a shock to him though, when you picked your head up and placed a small peck on the clothed shaft of his dick through his jeans.
You did that all on your own.
“Baby, what the hell are you…oh shit…”
You brushed your lips over it, feeling enticed by the scent of his musk. Obviously the wine was making you feel something, maybe something you wanted subconsciously, or maybe it was purely a physical need induced by the arousal building in your core. You felt hot, like your body was made up of pure lust and nothing else. You hated yourself and wished that you hadn’t drank the wine, even if it would make your night easier.
None of it mattered now, because you did drink the wine, and you were feeling yourself grow hotter by the second at the thought of giving Marc pleasure. You fucking wanted him, and you couldn’t loathe yourself more over it. You slipped off the couch to your knees, looking up at him from between his legs and feeling nothing but pure desire for him when you did.
Who the fuck am I? You thought to yourself.
Marc couldn’t believe his eyes. You were on your knees between his legs, a sight he was certain he wouldn’t ever see, not this early on in your life of captivity anyway. Your little hands fumbled with his belt, managing to slowly pull the leather strap from the buckle before you started to unbutton his pants. His mouth hung open while he watched you tug his jeans and briefs to his thighs, letting his cock spring free. 
You looked at it like never before, leaning forward and giving the length of him a small kitten lick all the way from the base to the tip. Marc couldn’t breathe while he watched you. He knew that you could fit it in your mouth, you’d done it with Jake the night they took you, but this time was different. This time, you were acting like you wanted it.
“Take your time honey, I know your little mouth can hardly handle us,” he cooed, reminding you that you didn’t need to rush.
You gulped, lips parting slowly as you stared at his leaking tip. Once more you flicked your tongue out and licked the bead of precum off of him. He wondered if you even realized that you hummed as if you liked the taste. He reached a hand behind your head, not to pressure you, but instead to guide you. Marc wanted to make this as comfortable for you as possible, especially considering it wasn’t very often that you showed eagerness or compliance to satisfy their needs.
You opened your lips wide, leaning up over his cock before lowering your head down around it. The second Marc felt the warmth of your mouth surround him it was like the breath punched out from his lungs.
“Oh…god honey,” he growled through clenched teeth. “F-fuck.”
You didn’t take it all, and he hadn’t expected you to. He was impressed that you even made it to the halfway mark before the head of his cock was probing against your throat. Maybe one of the other two would stretch your mouth out more and teach you how to use it, but it wasn’t going to be Marc, not today.
Maybe it was the fact that you were drunk, or maybe it was that you liked the way Marc was breathing and whining, but you couldn't ignore the feeling of your aching clit any longer. You put your finger between your legs, still using your other hand to hold onto Marc’s thigh for stability, and you started touching yourself. It was embarrassing how wet you were over someone who had done such horrible things to you.
“Does it feel that good honey? You like sucking my cock that much?”
Marc was mesmerized by your eyes and the way you furrowed your brow while you sucked him off. That was the same expression he recognized from before when he’d made you come around his cock. You moaned around his dick, an acceptable answer to his question.
You know you look so pretty like that,” he nodded, breath blowing out through his pursed lips while he tried to hold back from fucking your throat wide open. “Sit back for me, honey.”
With a loud ‘pop’ you let his cock fall out of your mouth and you sat back on your heels. Your eyes were stuck on his throbbing length, mind still fuzzy with arousal and intoxication, feeling yourself wanting nothing more than to have it back in your mouth. You hadn’t stopped circling around your clit with your fingers, your wet slick making it easy to move around just right. Another bead of precum trickled teasingly down Marc’s shaft, dripping onto the floor and leaving you salivating.
“You really want more, hm?” He asked, grabbing the thick base of himself firmly and slowly starting to jerk himself off in front of you.
Yes, you thought to yourself. You didn’t know why, and you were still a little mad at yourself for appearing so eager, but yes, you fucking wanted it.
Marc couldn’t believe his eyes when you nodded, your gaze still trained on his swollen dick while he held onto it. He gave it another firm stroke, slowly, up to the tip. When he squeezed around the top some slick, clear precum dripped down onto his fingers. With his free hand he beckoned you back over, holding the back of your head and positioning his tip at your lips.
“Open, please, quick-fuck-fuck-fuhhh!"
All it took was the brush of your little tongue against the backside of his leaking head before he lost it. He moaned loudly, surprising even himself as he squeezed his cock, aiming the shots of spend over your tongue, coating your mouth in a layer of white. Marc couldn’t imagine a better view than you looking up at him with your mouth wide open as he fed you every last drop he had. 
You came the very second you tasted his cum on your tongue. The delicious hot ropes ran down your throat while you took what he gave you, and you rubbed your clit faster, feeling yourself go weak over his taste. A series of choking gasps were lost in the living room while you felt your cunt contracting around nothing, your hot arousal gushing and dripping down your thighs.
In your mind-numbed state you couldn’t hold your body up anymore and so you fell to the ground in a heap, breathing heavily and letting the soothing warmth of your intoxication wash over you. 
“Someone had too much to drink,” Marc commented with a soft chuckle, tucking his dick back in his pants before lifting you into his arms with a contented sigh.
His heart leapt with a sense of joy and love for you when you held onto him, tucking your face into his broad chest and nuzzling against him. You murmured something nonsensical and unintelligible, inspiring another laugh out of Marc. He wished with all his heart that this was the first of many nights that you would start to warm up to them; that you were finally accepting your place and finding peace with your fate.
He hoped so deeply that it was true. He needed it to be true.
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s-creations · 11 months ago
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Stillness
The quite allows you time to think the loudest.
Fandom: Court of Roses (Webcomic) Rating: General Audiences Relationship: Merlow the Rose/Nocturne (Court of Roses) Additional Tags: Other Characters are mentioned, Sort of a self-reflection story, Nocturne is such an interesting character, I mean they all are, Just let me focus on one thing at a time please, Deep thoughts come in early morning or late nights, no kissing but this is still a cute connection.
Gift to @nintendonut1 @courtofrosescomic
Early mornings always seemed to be the most undisturbed period of time. Time where those who were awake at night started to fall quiet and sleep. And those who’ve spent the night sleeping were just barely starting to wake up. Even those creatures who didn’t know of the social norms of ‘hours’ knew to remain silent as if aware there needed to be moments of calm before the day officially started. 
Truthfully, this was a time Nocturne felt the most at ease. Not to claim that this was his favorite portion of the day. More of it being a moment where he could just…exist. 
In the past, he would wake to have points of feeling normal. Or, as close as he could. Fantasizing that he was reading for pleasure rather than researching for his new claim. At a far younger age, it was a warm home with both fathers patiently waiting for him to return. For later years it was just the concept of believing he could have some form of stability. Not having the fear of being forgotten hanging over his head. 
It was so strange to think about. As a child, Nocturne had been excited to see what the lands held to offer. Now the idea of simply being home seemed so enticing. To have a solid place to live.
What a concept…
Laying on his back, Nocturne’s eyes stared up at the blank ceiling of the carriage. Thankful that both Sven and Felicks were on morning watch so as to not have to deal with two beings snoring loudly. 
Diana and Phoebe having claimed the two drop down bunks built into the sides of their mobile structure. Sure, they were just flat pieces of wood. But the provided elevation made the rest better somehow. 
Which left Nocturne and Merlow to rest on the floor. Both contorting on the ground as they tried for comfort. 
Nocturne wasn’t brother by this at all. Honestly, Merlow was the only member of this trope the Infernal didn’t mind being so close to. 
Don’t read too far into that, now is not the time.
Pointed ears twitched hearing a whispered ‘discussion’ between Sven and Felicks outside.
Both no doubt debating over what was going to be made for that morning’s meal.
The Infernal shifted to lay on his side facing Merlow.
The half-elf was still fast asleep at this point in the morning. Laying on his side as well and curled up as best he could be in the available space. Cheek squished against one of his hands that was acting as an extension of his pillow. The other hand up and tucked underneath his chin. His hair was somehow still untangled even out of their customary three braids. A few strands occasionally flutter from Merlow’s steady breathing.
Even with vision blurred, Nocturne felt that he knew every line that made up the half-elf’s face. 
Merlow was…an enigma to the Infernal. For all his travels, Nocturne had never met someone so joyfully optimistic who also carried such sorrow with them. For all that life had thrown at Merlow’s feet, the half-elf remained with the idea that there was good in people. Doing his best to spread the joy and care he radiated out to everyone. It was amazing to think anyone could be sour while around the half-elf.
Which is why seeing Merlow so still as is was such an awe. 
Nocturne was used to seeing the other bouncing around, to help or comfort, wanting to play, waving his arms around eagerly while sharing a story. Even with his calmer situations, Merlow could be found fiddling with his hair, or the strap for his bag, or picking at his gloves. He seemed to be constantly moving. 
If left alone from his tormentful past, the only time Merlow seemed to be motionless was when he fell into a deep sleep. 
He looked peaceful.
Calm.
Relaxed.
There was no need to keep his smile on or to comfort. 
Merlow could sleep. 
Nocturne could watch.
And it could just be the two of them for a moment. A comfort in seeing Merlow so relaxed.
Perhaps the quiet was adding a bit of bravery he wouldn’t normally hold. Regardless, Nocturne shifted so he could pull an arm from under his own blanket. Cautiously reaching out until his fingertips just barely brushed against Merlow’s cheek. When the other didn’t stir, he pressed forward. Getting a slight thrill when he could properly cup the half-elf’s face. 
Even with the warning he’d received about the other, Nocturne felt that Merlow had been a wonderful surprise to his life. An unexpected change of course on the Infernal’s path. Being informed that the half-elf was just a person so study, to understand. Only to become so much more as time continued on. A change that Nocturne should have been worried about. He’d lived his life as a forgotten footnote in history for so long that the want of being remembered was a phantom pain. 
Now, it was a bitter candy that he seemed to swallow everyday.
He hadn’t felt this content in so long…
The spell was broken when Merlow let out a low groan. Eyes squeezing tightly as he began to wake. Nocturne was just able to pull his hand away fast enough to hide under his blanket once more. Just as green eyes of Spring opened and landed on the Infernal with muddled and exhausted confusion.
“Mornin’...” Merlow croaked out. Slowly blinking as he fought to stay awake.
“Good morning,” Nocturne whispered back, “did you have a nightmare? You’re up early.”
“Can be sayin’ the same ta ye… But no, slept well… How early is it?”
“We probably have a few hours before the sun begins to rise.”
Merlow let out a small hum. “Ye never answered my question…” 
“I just had a few things on my mind, don’t worry. I’m going to try and get some more sleep.”
There was another hum before Merlow replied with, “‘M cold…”
“Suppose it is a bit nippier than previous mornings.” Nocturne’s quiet laughter turned to a quick choke as Merlow shuffled forward. The half-elf doing his best to tuck as close to the Infernal as possible. 
Nocturne felt himself freeze before allowing his arms to slowly relax. Wrapping them around Merlow, who let out a contented sigh. 
“Comfortable?”
“Very…”
“Good…” Nocturne relaxed further to press his cheek to the top of Merlow’s head. “Good.”
It wasn’t long before Merlow was asleep once more. Nocturne left to the silence as before. Eyes closing, he focused on the comfortable weight now resting in his arms. 
He welcomed the stillness.
Because he could imagine this was his life.
And he loved the thought.
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venhedish · 4 years ago
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So I’ve had a MASSIVE block over this Mystery Spot fic I’m doing for the Wincest First Time Fest because darkfic isn’t super in my wheelhouse, but I finally got some words down and I’m feeling pretty good about it! I wanted to share this snippet since it’s been a while since I’ve had anything new to put out into the world. The whole thing should be up next week, hopefully!
CW for character death and just general dark themes.
Dean dies in the shower, he dies in the street, he dies at the mystery spot, and—worse somehow than anywhere else—he dies behind Sam’s eyelids over and over and over. Sam wonders if this will be his life until he dies, too. He can feel it coming on slow, his own agonizing demise creeping closer as a death by a thousand cuts while his brother accumulates tombstone after tombstone in the graveyard of his mind.
And this dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day, if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all, what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out?
His brother's mouth, spit-slick and shiny with dripping water from the tub in which he’d drowned, or his eyes, glazed and green and unseeing. Sam thinks about kissing him.
He's not proud of it. In fact, the thought sends him into a tailspin of depression and disgust that lasts through a straight week of Tuesdays. He goes mute, can’t articulate the klaxon call of wrongwrongwrong that curls sickly in his stomach. Dean asks the same thing every day, with good humor at first: Cat got your tongue, Sammy? until he realizes something is really, deeply wrong. You're starting to scare me, man. So Sam explains once, then again, about the deaths and the Tuesdays and the never-ending cycle, but that gets old, so he lets Dean scream at him until he’s blue in the face for the next couple of days, until Dean screams too hard and something soft and vital bursts behind his eyes. Blood drips onto Sam's hand where he lays in bed—a single red tear streaking down his brother’s face—and Dean collapses on top of him.
Sam forces himself to get back up after that. 
But he doesn’t stop thinking about kissing Dean, about what else he could do.
They’re all thoughts he’s had before—down in the black pit of his desire—where he’s fantasized about the slick heat of blood coating his hands after a kill, or the soft, pretty mouths of all the girls who have sucked his brother’s cock. About how easy it would be to tear the wings off a butterfly, if he wanted. 
But he’s not a bad guy; everyone has a place like that, a place deep inside them that they lock up tight and only drift to in those moments when they forget to keep the curtains drawn close, between wakefulness and sleep.
But he's in a dream now, isn't he? And in dreams, he can fly.
So he starts slow, deliberate – just a touch, pinky brushing pinky. Standing a little closer than normal at the sink, flossing at the mirror, leaned into his brother’s shoulder as the red of his own blood stains the string between his teeth.
I want you, I want you, I want you thrums just under the surface of their every interaction, more and more apparent, even when the day resets again.
He gets brazen, swipes hot sauce from the corner of Dean’s mouth at the diner and licks it off his thumb. Dean stares—at a loss for words—then the grill catches on fire, and in the confusion Sam loses sight of him.
The radio plays Heat of the Moment. Again. Sam opens his eyes.
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saint-cichol-is-watching · 5 years ago
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May I req how Asmo celebrates his birthday with his partner and kids? I really love your next gen hcs they’re all so cute zxsgzhwh
Oh you’re so sweet honey I’m sorry for the time it took but in my defense it’s still Asmo’s birthday where I come from so it’s alright ! 
I hope you'll like it because I had a bit of troubles writing it I'll admit 😣
For those who don’t know these headcanons reference to my and @ivotheovni Next Generations AU (you can find the Masterlist here)
( @milas-imaginarium )
-
Note - These headcanons reference to a few characters that you might not know yet so here is a short resume : Valentine a mature young girl who is her real Devilgram Star and Ofelia a sweet girl who often fantasizes about romance are Asmodeus’s daughters (links : 1 / 2 / 3), the twins here do not refer to Beel and Belphie but to Benjamin and Belmin, Beel’s sons, Lily is their younger sister (link). Rosie, from her real name Roseanne is Lucifer’s daughter (links : 1 / 2). Finally I can’t remember if I mentioned her but if Leny is mentioned know that it’s Satan’s oldest child (her real name is Selene, only Ofelia, her best friend, calls her ‘Leny’) (links : 1 / 2)
Anyway now let’s start !
Today was a special day, you were May 15th which meant it was your husband, Asmodeus's, birthday.
That's why you, along with your sixteen and twelve years old daughters, Valentine and Ofelia, decided to make a surprise birthday for the beloved father of your girls.
The preparations started very early in the morning, where you three were busy in the kitchen trying to make Asmodeus one perfect breakfast.
Ofelia, who was a bit of an airhead, rushed over carrying a good number of pans, each of different sizes, to make sure she had the right one to give them to you but tripped causing all the metallic pans to fly out of her arms resulting in an enormous ruckus as they came crashing on the floor.
"Watch out Felia" Valentine said smiling "If Uncle Beel, Lily or even the twins wake up we can say goodbye to our breakfast in bed for Dad"
"And if your Uncle Luci or Rosie wakes up we might hang down from the ceiling all throughout your father's birthday" You added chuckling.
Ofelia giggled apologizing airily as she helped you gather the pans from the floor.
"Don't forget to make it extra cute!" Valentine said as you were now putting strawberries on top on the pancakes you just finished to cook "We'll need to take a picture for our family's Devilgram, oh and Dad's too! And mine as well of course! Our followers will love it!"
The breakfast now finished (without any disturbances from your brothers-in-law and/or their children) you told your eldest daughter to grab her father's gift on the counter and to, along with Ofelia, follow suite as you exited the kitchen in direction of your room upstairs.
You were all giggling already imagining Asmo's reaction in your head.
Once in front of your door, your girls placed themselves behind you as you quietly opened the door.
The small light of the Devildom's days was  already shining through the thin curtains of the room, illuminating your sleeping husband's form.
He was still asleep but you could see from the way his eyelids were moving that he was slowly stirring himself awake.
"Asmo" You whispered softly.
There was a bit of movement from under the sheets.
"Dad" Valentine said happily 
"Daddy!" Ofelia also tried to wake her father up, she was a little bit louder than you and her sister.
Just as then you saw Asmodeus's eyes opened up and from a same voice you exclaimed:
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY"
Fully awake Asmo sat up in the bed smiling big, a smile so beautiful and so similar to the ones of his daughters.
There were not a lot of people who were allowed to see Asmodeus's face so early in the morning but he always seemed to make an exception for you three, you were the only ones who were allowed to see him in such a, as he put it, unfashionable state. You were really special to him after all.
"We've got a full day planned for you Daddy" Ofelia said beaming so happily "We've got breakfast, nail polish, face masks, my favorite romantic comedy -of course-"
"Don't forget about the livestream" Valentine added "My followers are dying to wish you a happy birthday Dad" 
"We'll keep that for the birthday party with everyone tonight Val" You said to your eldest who smiled and nodded.
Asmo who was still on the bed was beaming from happiness. Looking at everything that was in your hands.
"What should we start with?" Your husband asked excitedly. 
You put down the plate of pancakes on his legs and immediately joined him on the bed.
"Breakfast?" You asked and he nodded.
You all sat down around the king of the day and all happily dug in the same plate.
Once the breakfast was finished it was a mess, Asmo happily grabbed onto a small container of nail polish and asked for your youngest daughter's hand so he could paint her nails as she talked happily about her last crush. You and Valentine decided to take care of each other nails, also laughing, gasping and exclaiming happily as once again Ofelia swore it was true love at first sight.
Putting face masks onto both Asmodeus's and your faces, the girls grabbed onto your now colorful hands to give them a small massage, singing along to the song they prepared specially for their father's birthday.  
'They really inherited their dad's pretty voice' you thought as their voice almost lulled you back to sleep, Asmodeus was also a wonderful singer after all.
Then it was time for your overly-romantic's daughter's favorite movie. A very popular rom com that you had seen a thousand times already but it seemed like your family never grew tired of talking all during the movies about everything and anything like how the protagonist should run after them and crying over their happy ending.
"I think that just leaves us with your birthday gift Asmo, right girls?" You said.
Ofelia rushed out of the bed and grabbed onto the wrapped present that was left lying onto your vanity.
"For you Daddy" She said smiling big as she handed her father your gift.
"Wah thank you Felia" Asmo said as he kissed her face all over before leaving a kiss on Valentine's forehead and one peck on your lips also thanking you both for the gift.
"It's only a small gift for right now you have much more left for tonight" You said as he teared down the wrapping paper.
The gift was an enormous book, a scrapbook more exactly, there were photos of him, photos of you, photos of each of the girls, photos of all of you together and in every spaces left was a small kind words to your husband.
"Oooh I love it !" Asmodeus exclaimed giggling "Look at that the most fabulous family in all three realms in just one book! Come here you!"
Opening his arms Asmo invited you in a family in which you all jumped happily laughing.
"We love you Dad" Valentine said looking up from your hug.
"I love you too my three loves" Asmo answered hugging you tighter.
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stufftippywrote · 5 years ago
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always
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Basically I used this as an excuse to rewrite the post-reunion scene at Cloud Recesses, with less plot and more kissing. Completely self-indulgent and I apologize if I got any of the lore wrong.This is decidedly TV continuity, with the TV versions of these characters.
Wei Wuxian awakens to the sound of the guqin. Each plucked note resonates with a magnet's pull, dragging him back to reality. His consciousness begins blurry, then clears, one note and one memory at a time. Where is he? Where has he been?
(with Lan Zhan before him and Jiang Cheng outraged, and all he could do was let his eyes roll up into his head and collapse with the weight of all of it...)
He's in a bed, and he's been carefully tucked under the covers. The slight chill in the air makes him think of Cloud Recesses. No, not just the air. The feel of the room around him -- he knows where he is, and he thinks he knows who is with him.
He thinks he dreamed his entire life before waking up here. Both lives. The one that ended years ago and the one that surprisingly, unexpectedly is just now beginning. He ought not to have two of them. It's unfair. Most people carry the memories of only one life. Half of him wishes he could banish all that came before. Start over, entirely new, like a spirit is supposed to.
But then he would not be here.
His hands are numb. He forces them into fists, then releases them. There's pain down his back, a reminder of the lash he took from Zidian. Which is itself a reminder of what he's lost -- or what he threw away. He no longer has a sister, he knows that much, but he fears he's lost a brother as well.
But is it really his fault? He'd come to grips with being hated. That didn't bother him. It wasn't his fault he was misunderstood. No, it was all their fault. They rushed to condemn him, they saw in his practicality something monstrous. They're the ones who made killing him such a prize that some nobody slashed at him on the battlefield at Nightless City and missed...
He blinks tears from his eyes. Sixteen years have gone by, that's what they said, but it could be yesterday.
But it really has been sixteen years! Jin Ling is proof of that. Wei Wuxian wants to laugh. His uncle's influence is so evident in that boy. A boy with his father's brow, with his mother's thin mouth. Sixteen years Wei Wuxian has been gone and now boys like him are running amok. He's missed so much.
He clears his throat and struggles to sit up. The music of the guqin stops. Another moment and Lan Zhan is there, helping him, and now Wei Wuxian is clear on what happened, where he is now. His back aches, but he manages to make it into a sitting position. He takes a moment to look around and another to meet Lan Zhan's gaze.
A gaze that's focused on him like a beam of light at sunrise, a gaze so solid you could walk across it like a bridge. It's more withering than any of his angry glares that Wei Wuxian remembers from the early days. Why is Lan Zhan looking at him like that? Just disbelief that he's here? It couldn't be that he ... no, of course it couldn't.
"How do you feel?" Lan Zhan takes one of his hands and doesn't let go.
"Terrible, my back will be sore for weeks," Wei Wuxian complains in response. The words don't draw a reaction, but he never expected them too. He looks across the room at the now-silent guqin. "You were playing."
Lan Zhan nods. "The Song of Clarity."
"Of course." The song is meant to heal, to soothe and comfort. But also to pacify. "Trying to keep me reined in, then? Afraid I'll summon some resentful spirit here and lay waste to Cloud Recesses?"
"It heals," Lan Zhan says, always the fewest number of words possible, but in those few words is both a comfort and an admonition: How can you think I'd want to restrain you?
"You're always so generous with your talents, Hanguang Jun," Wei Wuxian teases.
"What happened?" Again, so few words, but the enormity of what he's asking is evident. Wei Wuxian briefly explains the summoning spell, how he escaped the Mo manor and how he ended up on the Dafan Mountain plain where Lan Zhan found him. Lan Zhan listens without expression on his face.
"I remember you facing down Jiang Cheng," Wei Wuxian finishes, "but that's all I remember. Now I'm here, but I don't remember getting here. Did you have to drag me the whole way? Was I heavy?" He grins.
Lan Zhan ignores the question. "What will you do now?" he asks instead.
"I've just woken up and you want me to make plans? I was dead three days ago. And I'm hungry now. Lan Zhan, you ought to feed me a little or I'll fall right back asleep again."  
"Wei Ying."
Wei Wuxian grins. "Are you testing to see if I'll answer? I think I've already--"
His words are lost in a rush of movement and a swish of silk robes, and Wei Wuxian is suddenly tasting cloth against his mouth. He's unbearably warm, lost, confused, and it takes him a minute to puzzle out that Lan Zhan's arms are around him, that he's been pressed in close to Lan Zhan's body. A thrill goes through him, excitement and fear. This has never happened before. This never happens, ever.
He's fantasized, idly, in the moments in his previous life when he had the room to do so, what to do to make the great Lan Wangji break down -- how to make Lan Zhan fall for him. Who wouldn't? No one could look at that face, that body, and not fantasize. And whenever he had Lan Zhan's attention, it felt like he was stealing something valuable, burrowing it away in a hidden place where only he could enjoy it. Even the angry glares were precious to him. Not that he would ever tell.
But now he's in Lan Zhan's arms -- and not because he's being carried away from danger, either. Lan Zhan is embracing him for no adequate reason, and Wei Wuxian's mind races to find another way to explain it. Maybe it's just concern and relief. But he'd have to care to be relieved, and Lan Zhan doesn't care, couldn't possibly with his sense of righteousness and all that Wei Wuxian has done.
He doesn't know what to do but laugh at it. Make light of it, because if he takes it seriously, his heart might be crushed. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," he says, a smile in his voice. He finds room to pat the small of Lan Zhan's back. "It's all right. I'm back, I'm here."
Lan Zhan takes in a sharp breath. Then, in Wei Wuxian's ear: "You're here."
His voice trembles. Has his voice ever trembled? Ever, in his entire life?
Wei Wuxian is well and truly lost now. Lan Zhan's hands are hot on his back, possessive. There's nowhere for him to go but deeper, nothing to do but bury his head in Lan Zhan's chest and soak up all the warmth that he's held in his mind as a fantasy since gods know when. Of all the mad things he's done, this feels the most revolutionary of all. He closes his eyes, takes a small breath, and relaxes into the embrace.
It's over all too soon. Lan Zhan pulls back, but not completely. He's got one hand curled around Wei Wuxian's upper arm. "Don't," he says sternly, "go away again."
It feels like an admonishment, a warning like the hundreds he's received before -- don't go astray. "What? Don't worry, even if I wanted to go somewhere you wouldn't let me, and--"
For the second time, he's lost his words. This time, it's because Lan Zhan has picked up his free hand and is... just touching his face. Just fingers on his cheek, now tracing the line of his jaw, the gentlest touch he's ever felt. Wei Wuxian swallows hard. He looks to Lan Zhan's eyes to see what's driving him to act this way.
What he sees stuns him.
The first kiss Lan Zhan takes from his lips is tentative, momentary, there and gone. But Wei Wuxian feels it like the rumbling of an earthquake, deep and strong and shattering. A sound leaves his lips as they part from Lan Zhan's, an "ah-" that might be a plea for more.
Lan Zhan looks at him with that deep gaze, and now Wei Wuxian's the one being studied, and Lan Zhan's the one looking for meaning. Is Wei Wuxian really so hard to read? He turns up the corners of his mouth in a bit of a smile, opens his mouth to speak.
This time he doesn't even get a single word out. Lan Zhan's lips are on his in a second, and whatever was building up in the back of his throat dies there, as Wei Wuxian loses all his thoughts in the face of this overwhelming softness, the tingle of his lips beneath Lan Zhan's, the feel of Lan Zhan's hand on his face, cradling him as though he were something delicate and breakable. His mind whirls. This is happening, this is real. He's mine. He's actually mine.
He is, right? This isn't some trick? This isn't some dreaming illusion?
Wei Wuxian's breath comes short as he pulls away. "Lan Zhan," he says hastily, "are you-- did you -- is this real? You feel -- this way for me?"
Lan Zhan nods. His eyes are so gentle, a man could drown in them. "Always," he says.
"Always?" Wei Wuxian echoes. He swallows the lump in his throat.
Lan Zhan nods again.
There's two options now: to melt or to tease. Wei Wuxian, as usual, chooses the later. "Like, since-the-library always?"
Lan Zhan's ears go pink. "Don't talk about that."
"Since-the-rooftop always?"
Lan Zhan's lip trembles, but he stays mute.
"You saw me out there with my bottles of Emperor's Smile and fell in love immediately?" More silence. "That's the story I'm going with, then. That's what I'll believe!"
"Believe what you want," Lan Zhan says, and kisses him again. This time, Wei Wuxian chooses to melt.
Time winds its way slowly through the rafters of the Silence Room. Leaves rustle outside in the trees. Somewhere far away, there is the sound of running water. Two hearts, long kept apart, twine together slowly, carefully, taking their time in the quiet night. Tomorrow there will be mysteries to solve and spirits to battle. For now, there is only Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan, and the soft promises they make to each other with words and touches as the night goes on.
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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years ago
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Centuries--Two
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Word Count: 2207
Pairing: Dean X Reader
Characters: Dean, Sam, Cas (Mentioned), Jack (Mentioned), Reader, Michael (Mentioned), Hezekiah (Mentioned)
About: The Reader has some dirty memories from her dream sex with Michael.  The Reader and Dean share a passionate reunion after sharing feelings of being scared that this was dream. The Reader then learns how long she has been back for and gets a name from the time she can’t seem to remember. 
Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Oral Female Receiving, Fingering, Rough Sex (Protected), Fantasizing, Nipple Play, Drinking, 
A/N: Requests are open until 7.11.2020 until 11.59pm USA Central time. Send your GIFS or pictures with what you want!!
A/N 2: Want to notified first on the next part and or on future fanfics? COMMENT BELOW YOUR FAVORITE DEAN GIF.
Forever Tag List: @hobby27​ @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @elansaidaris​ @magssteenkamp​ @pinktree84 
Dean/Jensen Tag List: @akshi8278​ @sandlee44​ 
*18+ CONTENT. YOUNGER THAN 18 MOVE ALONG
**DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT ASKING ME FIRST AND WITHOUT GIVING ME CREDIT. I WORK WAY TOO HARD ON MY STORIES TO HAVE MY WORK STOLEN.
***ALL WORKS ARE POSTED ON IG, WATTPAD, AND AO3. ALL UNDER THE SAME USERNAME. GO SHOW THEM SOME LOVE
I shower until the water runs ice cold. Reluctantly, I turn the water off and grab hold of a and dry off. Before I wrap up in it, I stare at the mark that was left by Michael over a year ago. You would think that maybe, just maybe that it wouldn't show up when I came back. I hesitate to touch it and when I do, nothing happens. I'm not sure weather to be happy or sad as I think back to that dream. Well, it wasn't a dream according to Cas, It was the real deal.
I think about how Michael had me pushed up on the wall as his lips were pressed to mine. I think of how at the snap of his fingers, I was naked sitting on top of him. I think how he pushed me down on the couch and ripped his pants off and was inside of me in seconds. I close my eyes as I remember the rough thrusts of Michaels hips and the digging of my nails into his back. Almost identical to the way Dean had thrust into me but there had been inhuman force.
I snap out of day dream and wrap up in the towel and walk out of the bathroom. I make my way to my old room. A room that I barely remember. I enter the room to find that it's been left the same way I remember leaving it. I go to the wardrobe and pull out a tshirt and pants and throw them on. This isn't the time to day dream, I need to figure out how the hell I am even alive and how long I've been alive for.
Walking down the hallway, I pass Dean room. I see him sitting on his bed just staring into space. He looks like hell and I know he blames himself for it all. Saying yes to Michael lead to me killing myself. But we needed that win that day and it backfired in true Winchester form. Dean notices me and smiles. I walk in and sit on the bed next to him. I take his hand in mine and hold it tight.
"I haven't had decent sleep in the last few days and I am tired as hell," Dean lifts my hand up and kisses it. "But, I am scared as fuck to fall asleep and wake up and know that all of this could be a dream."
I smile at him knowing that I feel the very same way. "If this were a dream, Dean Winchester," I use my free hand to cup his face. "Nightmare or not, it's the best dream to have." I lean in and softly kiss him. Dean takes his free arm and wraps it around me and lays us down on the bed. I wiggle my way up. Dean gets a confused look on his face. "The door silly," I close the door and come back and straddle. "Don't need to go scarring your baby brother or Cas or Jack do we now?"
Dean is leaning back just staring at me. I slowly take my shirt off and watch as his eyes rake over what bare skin there is. He slowly lifts his hands to my skin and feels every inch of my stomach and back. He unclasps the bra and removes it and looks at my bare breasts. He takes his hands and squeezes them, making my head roll to the sound. I give a small hum and hang my head back when I feel him take one in his mouth. I smile as Dean sucks and licks my nipple making it hard under his grip.
Deans arms are around me the moment I sigh his name. He lays me down on the bed and I can see his dick pressed hard up on his jeans. I need it inside of me. I need to feel him thrusting inside of me again. It's been so fucking long since I've felt it. Instead of taking his pants off, Dean undoes my pants and slowly pulls them off along with my underwear. I am very aware of how wet I am with the air blowing around the room from the ceiling fan. Dean notices and gives a lustful smirk.
"I love to see that I still have this affect on you," He kneels down and kisses my leg from the knee to my thigh. When he gets to my thigh, I am aching so bad for him my legs shake. "Now let's test the waters, shall we?" Deans hand touches my folds and he begins to rub slow but firm. I grab my breasts and give them a squeeze. Then he slips in one finger making me sigh again.
"Oh so wet for me," Deans is soft and rough. He teases a second and third finger as he wiggles the one finger inside me around. It's making me squirm.
"Please," I whisper as my hands squeeze my breast again. "Dean, please."
"Please what?" His firm voice asks.
"Fuck me with your fingers." I gasps as his one finger starts toying around with my g-spot. "Make me cum all over your hand." Fuck, I missed this. I missed the feeling of being wanted. I missed the feel of being had by someone that loves me. I missed this part of being alive. As if reading my mind, Dean inserts two more fingers and begins to push and pull in and out. I sigh and let our a soft moan.
It doesn't take long before I am clawing at the sheets and arching my back. I whimper softly, pleading to cum but, Dean doesn't let me. Instead he teases me by getting me as close as I can and then stopping. I sigh dramatically each time only to hear him chuckle. "You're impossible," I tell him. Then I fell him go down on me and I squeak.
I reach down and hold his face in place as he fucks me with his tongue and sucks on my clit. My hips begin to rise up and down as I feel myself start tightening up. I wrap my legs around Deans neck to keep him place and to press him deeper into me. I grip his hair tight as my soft moans become louder.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I yelp loudly as he inserts two fingers. Now, I am being fucked by both his tongue and fingers. It can't get better than that. My breathing is started to become ragged and I'm practically yelling for Dean to not stop. To keep going. Then I cum.
"Oh my fucking God, Dean," I scream as he continues to thrust his fingers in me and lick up the results of my orgasm. I let my head fall back as I come off my high. I close my eyes when I feel Dean start to kiss up my body and reach my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck and smirk against his lips. "Your turn." I push him over and rip open his pants and pull both pants and under down. His dick springing up to life.
Dean rolls over and I hear him rummaging in a side drawer. He sits up and I see the condom package in his hands. I take it from him and rip it open and slowly roll it over his length. He groans as I do. Feeling myself get wet all over again, I stand up and sit over him and slowly lower myself on his length until he was balls deep inside of me.
I slowly start to move my hips up and down while making eye contact with him. He throws his head on the bed. "Fuck," he groans. His hands grabbing my hips and slamming me down on him. Making me yelp. I have no time to react to what happens next.
Dean pulls me down and wraps his arms around me. He rolls us over to where he's on tops of me. He sits up and pulls my hands from my chest and pins them above me. With a wicked grin and a sexy raised eyebrow, he slowly pulls out and teases the both of us with just the tip. Then he slams himself back in making me moan and scream at the same time.
Dean continues this until he raises my leg up onto his shoulder. Be both make eye contact at the sudden change in angle and position. He start to thrust deep, hard, and fast. Fucking me right into the mattress. We both are mess of moans, groans, screams, grunts, the whole bit. Then a few deep thrusts later, Dean yells out my name and I scream out his.
We lay there on the bed. Dean has his arms around me. "I'm convinced that this is my own personal heaven now," Dean says into my hair. His voice is soft and I know he's about to crash soon. I chuckle and roll over and give him a light kiss on the lips. His eyes are closed but I see him smile a bit before he starts to breath deeply.
I roll out of the bed and realize my legs feel like jello. Dean will be proud to know that he fucked me to the point that my legs were shaking afterwards. I look around the room for my clothes and get dressed. I smooth out my hair and make my way out of the room to the kitchen to make me some food.
"Wow," I hear Sams voice enter the kitchen after me. "I'm surprised you can still walk after all of that. Where's Dean?" I'm surprised too, I think. I am even sore down there too. But, it's a good sore. The one that makes getting fucked hard worth it.
"Sleeping," I say pulling out stuff to make a sandwich. "Do you know where Cas is? I need to look at my side again. I still have the mark Michael gave me for some reason."
Sam nods. "Cas and Jack dipped out when they started to hear you and Dean. Not sure if they will be back tonight. What did Dean say about it?"
"I don't think he saw it," I say putting the finishing touches on my sandwich. "If he saw it then he chose not to say anything." I take a bite and just marvel at the taste of the food. Almost better than the sex I just had. I reach back into the fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. I crack one open and I also marvel at the taste of it. It felt like forever since I had real food and a good beer.
"So," Sam says pulling out the phone I gave him. "I got a hit off the phone. The person you were talking to, their name doesn't exist so it's a total fake but, you kept calling them Hezekiah."
I sudden get this sharp pain in my head when he says that name. I grab my head and close my eyes. I start to see a figure with dreads and dark skin. As fast as the pain came it left. I realize I am sitting on the ground with my head in between my knees. Sam is by me.
"Are you okay?" He asks worried. "You just collapsed out of no where."
I rub my head a bit to make sure the pain is really gone. "I think so," Sam helps me up. "I know that name for some reason." I think back on that name. Its really familiar. Then I remember that moment I'm grabbed in the field trying to get Dean back from Michael. The angel that grabbed me was the same Hezekiah that Michael called out.
"Do you remember the name of that angel that Michael yelled at to get through the gate?" I ask Sam.
"No not really. Why?"
"It's the same damn fucking angel," I take a drink of my beer again. "Anything else?"
Sam slides the phone over to me. "Just that it's hard to track the number you had been texting or calling for the past year. So I hard reset it and made it even harder to track. Oh and new number too."
"What?" I ask staring at Sam and I pick up the phone. I want to make sure I heard him right before freaking out.
"I said it's harder to track now and you have a new number."  Sam says looking back at me before he tries to leave the kitchen.
"No," I say walking around the island. "What you said before that. For how long I'd been in contact with this bitch."
It finally clicks in Sam's head. "You've been back for a year."
That right there. I've been back that long. No memory but a name. A name when it was said, caused my head to hurt like I was being tortured. I hold the phone up and know that some of the answers that I needed were erased but maybe for a good reason. If this phone had been its original state who knew if I was already being tracked here. Cas needs to get back here so that he can try and dig deep into my brain.
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youbloodymadgenius · 5 years ago
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The Viking King and the Pancakes (Ivar x reader)
A/N: Modern AU but not exactly Modern!Ivar, you’ll see. 
This is not the second part of Pancakes in Bed again? But if you haven't read it, it would be better to read it first. Here 
Thanks to @inforapound​, without whom I couldn’t do anything 💖 And thanks to @ivaraddict​ for this precious gif 💖
Summary: the reader wakes up and finds out that she is not alone in bed. When she realizes who is lying next to her, the shock is even greater. 
Warnings: None besides my wacky ideas ; shaggy dog story. Ah yes, swearings too. 
Words: 2136
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Lazily opening your eyes, you startle when the sound of snoring wakes you completely.
Snoring?? How could this be?? You have been sleeping alone for… for… weeks? Months? So long that you actually aren’t sure… It could even be years…  
Immediately you are wide awake and screaming as you realize that a man is lying next to you. In your bed! Under your sheets! A wave of panic hits you. What did you do last night? Had you been drinking? Eating mushrooms?
Where did he come from? How did he get there? And more importantly, who is he?? And… did you have…? Oh, no, no, no, no! Looking under the sheets, you see that you are still wearing your pajamas. Phew!!
Releasing a loud sigh of relief, you hear the stranger growl as he shifts in the bed. Looking at him carefully, you are frightened – there's a man you don't know anything about in your bed! – and also fascinated – from what you can see, his muscles are… impressive…
It's highly inappropriate, but you are drooling.
Move a little more so I can see your face, you urge him silently.
It worked! Rolling onto his side, the man slowly faces you and…
FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!
"By the gods, who are you?"
From his thick accent you know he's not fluent in English. But you still understand. Which is good, as your knowledge of Old Norse is limited to "Du kan ikke drepe meg!" Although, thinking about it, telling him he can't kill you might not be totally stupid.
"I..I.." You pathetically babble. Fuck. Fuck! You must be dreaming, right? You pinch your arm, bite the inside of your cheek and end up slapping yourself in front of a dumbfounded Iv… No! It can't be him! It can? Noooo! Fuck, even after five slaps, he's still there.
"I'm Y/N," you finally say and are rewarded with a puzzled look.
"Strange name."
A man of few words, no doubt about it. Rolling your eyes, you sigh. Maybe you like it better when he doesn't say anything.
"And you?" Your question is somehow rhetorical as you already know who he is. But you need to hear it, clearly, from him.
"Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Aslaug Sigurdsdottir, king of Kattegat and leader of the great heathen army."
It sounds like he's reciting his service record.
Wow, wow, wow! The guy is slightly showing off, isn't he? You'd like to put him down and hesitate to remind him that unless you're mistaken, Bjorn overthrew him and he's not really king anymore. But it doesn't seem particularly wise, so you choose to keep quiet.
Not him.
"Are you my new slave? A gift from Ubbe, my silly brother, as a sign of his repentance and total allegiance?"
A slave??? You are in my fucking house, man!! And in my bed!!!
Six months later
You hurry up, eager to get home, looking forward to finding your man, Ivar the Boneless; the ruthless king. The bloodthirsty, fierce, cruel Viking. Your lover. Your Ivar.
Pushing back the door with your foot, you hastily lock it behind.
"Ivar?"
Not getting an answer, you put down your bag and take off your shoes before walking through the apartment. Putting your phone on the kitchen table, you inhale deeply, enjoying the delicious smell of a lamb stew that has certainly been simmering for hours.
Eventually, you find your great warrior asleep on the couch, the old wheelchair you unearthed in a second-hand shop right next to him. Smiling, you take your time, admiring his features. His facial structure, so perfect. He's astonishing, breathtaking. Painfully handsome.
He belongs perfectly in your living room and simultaneously seems completely out of place. You can't help but smile seeing the contrast of his hairstyle – "Never without my braids, woman!" – and his outfit, sweatpants and white T-shirt.
"Hi, my love!" Blinking, he almost purrs as you kiss his forehead.
Using his powerful arms to draw you close, he flashes you a broad grin as you carefully straddle him. With modern drugs working wonders, you taught him to rate his pain on a scale of one to ten and he's rarely over two. Yet, you haven't found a way to prevent him from breaking a bone at the drop of a hat.
"My queen!"
Your laughter fills the room. No matter how much you tell him you are not the queen of anything, he seems hell-bent on it so you let him, amused and surely flattered to be loved by a real king.
"Dinner is almost ready." You shiver as he kisses your temple, your cheek and eventually your neck. "And then…,” his voice is suddenly hoarse, "… you and I will make love."
Six months earlier
"Tell me again??"
The frightening Viking glares at you, threateningly, driving your heart rate crazy. Fortunately, you confirmed he came unarmed in your bed and then you took care, before inviting him to sit at the kitchen table, to lock up all the knives and sharp or pointed tools.
"I say…,” ashamed, you know you're blushing, "… that I have called the gods, yours as well as the Christian god."
"And for what purpose?" His piercing blue eyes are scanning you, his features harsh.
"I….” Your voice is shaky. "I have already told you."
Before you realize what's going on, his hand is on your throat, and he's squeezing. The little bastard!
"I said," he roars, "For. What. Purpose?"
Freaking out, it's hard for you to breathe and you can hardly speak, your face red, your eyes bulging and begging him for air.
His eyes demanding an answer, he barely releases his grip. You're sure he won't hesitate to strangle you if you don't say anything.
"I have… I begged the gods because I wanted… I wanted you in… my bed… Well, not you…" Suddenly your words are rushing out. "I wanted the other Ivar, the Ivar of the TV show, this TV show that you don't know but in which you play the lead role. And yes, I'm aware that you don't know what a TV show is, I'll explain later, but that's it, it's you I wanted, that's why I called the gods and I don't know why but apparently it seems they heard me."
Ivar's hand doesn't move but he doesn't squeeze anymore, allowing you to breathe freely. You can see a slight change in his eyes, and his face softens.
"You… You wanted me in your bed? …..Why?"
Suddenly, there's no longer a frightening warrior in front of you but the terrified little boy from the eleventh episode of season four. His huge, wide eyes screaming all his insecurities. You are dying to tell him that Margrethe is nothing more than a stupid girl who did everything wrong. After all, you'd only be telling the truth!
But because he's unpredictable and because you don't know him well, you choose to say something more simple. "Because you are extremely attractive.”
Pleased by your words, he puffs his chest, flashing you a cocky grin. "And what did you want to do in bed with me?"
His rapid mood swings are fascinating, even more impressive in real life than on TV. Weighing the pros and cons, you eventually decide to be honest. "I wanted to have sex with you.”
Six months later
"I'll take care of everything, just go chill."
Nodding gratefully, you watch Ivar, who's setting the table while stirring the stew and keeping an eye on the cooking pasta. Smiling, you can't help but assess the progress made.  
In six months, Ivar had become a perfect househusband.
Neither you nor he were able to explain by what miracle, sorry, by what magic, the word miracle made your proud pagan throw up, had him get there. But you didn't complain.
Neither did he – he who confessed that the last thing he remembered was fleeing Kattegat, alone, abandoned by all, hiding in the back of a stinking cattle cart.
Of course, you had to teach him everything and at first, it hadn't been easy. But he quickly got his bearings, at least in your apartment. Outside was harder. He was afraid of everything. Too much noise, too many colors, too many stimuli all the time.
That's why he spent most of his time inside. Running errands was terribly worrisome for him. Eating out too. At most, you forced him to go out sometimes late at night to get fresh air, and three weeks ago you managed to take him to the mountains. He loved it.
On a daily basis, you two didn't get out much, but you didn't mind. In your home, your cocoon, you were able to forget more and more that Ivar was more than a thousand years old. Forget that he was a character from history books as well as one of your favorite TV show. And the fucking fictive guy you've been fantasizing about for months!
He had adapted quickly enough to modern technologies, had discovered running water with delight and had been fascinated, almost mesmerized, by the Internet. It was so he could use it, he asked you to teach him how to read.
Learning in record time, you realized that the show had some truth: Ivar was certainly a brilliant and intelligent person.
Since he could read, he'd devoured every book he could find. He read all your books, even burning one that described the point of view of a Saxon monk during the Lindisfarne raid. The best thing about this interest was that he was always looking for new recipes on the web. "Helga would have been crazy with such a tool!", he told you after explaining that it was Floki's wife who had secretly taught him how to cook.
"Take your seat, my queen.”
Wheeling towards you, Ivar hands you a glass of wine. "For you." You thank him and then you both raise your glasses before clinking them. "Enjoy your meal!"
Bringing your fork to your mouth – Ivar, your stubborn Viking, still eats everything with a spoon – your eyes shoot wide as you let the flavors spread through your mouth. Once again, his meal is excellent, a true feast for the palate.
"Ivar!" Talking with a full mouth, you're slightly ashamed but know he won't hold it against you. "It's simply a pure wonder! Exquisite and perfect!"
Smiling proudly, your Viking king is sincerely happy. He doesn't need much. What he told to that bitch Freydis was the truth: all he wanted was to be loved. And in truth, he doesn't care about being king. For the first time in his life, he can be himself. With you. And that's enough for him.
"I'm glad you like it." Waving his spoon in front of you, he furrows his brows. "Are you working tomorrow?"
You can't hide the small smile curling the corner of your mouth up.  Ivar still has trouble with some concepts. "No, my love, tomorrow is Sunday. I never work on Sundays." Seeing that his face lights up, you know he has an idea in mind. "Why?"
"Nothing… I was just thinking… I could try to prepare… pancakes. And we could eat them in bed."
You are sure you've never mentioned pancakes and wonder when he heard about them. But whatever, you're in. "That's a great idea! I'm sure you'll do well."
Now, Ivar's biting his lower lip suggestively and you wonder what he’s up to.
Putting his spoon on the edge of his plate, he wheels towards you. "I'll prepare toast, eggs, and bacon too."
You can't help but feel aroused by his hoarse voice, even if it's ridiculous. Who would have thought that breakfast could be a turn on?
Wait. Wait. Fucking wait. Pancakes. Toast. Eggs. Bacon. Seriously???
"Why?!" You startle, slightly distressed. "I mean, what are you talking about? Why are you talking about that? Why do… Why do you want to eat that tomorrow? I mean, exactly that?" You know you're pathetic, but Ivar only smiles at you lovingly.
"Because I want to.” Stroking your breast, he leans forward and his mouth meet yours, giving you shivers. "And once I've eaten all this…,” backing up just enough to look you in the eye, his hand brushes your crotch, making you shutter, "… I'll enjoy my dessert."
Standing, you take a few steps back, panic setting in while you try to put the puzzle together. Your heartbeat becomes frantic when you eventually understand what it means. What he means.
"Ivar… You…?" Blushing, a lump forms in your throat, you can’t speak anymore.
Nodding at you, again and again, a broad smile on his face and his gaze almost naughty, he’s obviously having fun. Fucking pompous asshole!
"Yes, my queen. I found your Tumblr blog. And I read your fanfictions."
OH!! FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!
🛡⚔️🛡
@waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @lisinfleur​ @honestsycrets​ @gearhead66​
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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago
Text
Best Part of Me -Chapter 11
Warnings: None
Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​
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Kyle is just getting ready to climb behind the wheel of his rental when he sees her approaching; a tall, curvy blond with vibrant colored highlights in her hair, holding onto Declan’s hand as he toddles along beside her, and he shuts the driver’s side door and journeys to the end of the driveway, crouching down with his arms outstretched.
“Hey buddy!” he calls. “Come see me!”
Declan hesitates, head cocked the side, a frown on his face. As if he remembers the voice yet the face isn’t quite so familiar. It’s been six months after all, and he’s too young to sit still during a webcam chat; hyper and energetic and too busy exploring the world around him.  But then he gives a smile that spreads from ear to ear and crinkles the corners of his eyes. And he manages to wriggle out of the woman’s grasp and rushes towards his uncle, who effortlessly scoops him up off the ground; repeatedly throwing him in the air and catching him, until the toddler is giggling hysterically.
“I missed you, bud,” Kyle presses a kiss to the side of Declan’s head, who responds by throwing his arm around his uncle’s neck and snuggling his face into his shoulder.  “I almost didn’t recognize you,” he teases. “Practically old enough now to have a girlfriend and start shaving.”
“It was time to bring back the kid. I wanted to keep him, not going to lie,” the neighbor says, as she hands over a small backpack and a pair of sandals. “You must be Esme’s husband. It’s about time we met. You’re definitely not what I was expecting.”
“What?” he chuckles. “No. God no. I couldn’t stand being married to her. I had enough years of her driving me crazy. I’m her brother. Kyle,” he holds Declan under the bum with his forearm and offers his hand.  
“The firefighter.”
“I see she’s been picking about me. Not sure how I feel about that.”
“All good stuff, I promise. I’m Salena,” she warmly shakes the hand being held out to her.  
“New neighbor, right?”
She grins. “So she’s been talking about me too.”
“Just a little. It was nice of you.  Taking Declan for a bit. She needed some downtime. Trying to handle a new baby and this little man...” he tickles Declan’s stomach. “...can be a lot to deal with. I’m glad that she has someone to help her out. That actually gives a crap about her. Tyler can only do so much, you know?”
“Tyler’s the husband.”
“You’re neighbors yet you don’t know his name?”
“I’ve never even seen him. Which is why I thought that’s who you were. Although you don’t exactly give off the ‘retired guy’ vibe.  You’re probably at least thirty years away from that.”
“I wish,” he laughs. “But thanks. That’s my ego boost for today. You’re going to be in for a surprise, I think. When you do see him. He doesn’t give up the ‘retired guy’ vibe either. Daddy was lucky wasn’t he, Decks?” He holds his nephew over his head and blow raspberries on his tummy until he’s giggling once more. “He was lucky in more ways than one.”
“Lucky to even be here by the sounds of it,” Salena comments.
“You have no idea. It was a scary time. For him. And for my sister. You just live up the road or...?”
“Right next door. Well not right next door because there’s the equivalent of two football fields between us. But next door.”
“I would have scooped that place up in a heartbeat when my sister told me it was for sale. I’d love to be closer to the munchkins. Especially this guy,” he gives Declan a noisy kiss on the cheek. “He’s kind of my favorite. But don’t tell the other ones. Uncle Kyle is kind of a big deal around here and I want it to stay that way.”
Salena laughs. “Your secret is safe with me. But I kind of see why this little guy is your fave. He's quite the character!”
“Always has been. Since the day he was born. Huge personality, this kid.  Always charming someone. Especially the ladies. Must take after your Uncle Kyle, huh?” he bounces Declan on his hip. “All you have to do is give them a certain look and they’re eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“I think that hair and those huge blue eyes don’t hurt either.”
“They all have them. Those eyes. Trust me when I say they are all dad. Except for the littlest. She is all mom.”
“Do you still live in Colorado or...”
Kyle nods. “Telluride. At my sister’s old place. Just until I decide if I want to stick around or not. Then they’ll just up for sale if I leave. It’s a shame if they do. It’s a hell of a place. Not as nice as this, but it’s got tons of property and amazing view of the mountains. It was a great place to raise kids. Until it wasn’t.”
“Things went bad?”
“You could say that. Changes needed to be made. They’re happier now. Much happier. Sucks that they’re so far away; kills me not being able to see the kidlets. But it was what was best for them. For all of them. Sometimes you just have to cut your losses and walk away, know what I mean?”
Salena nods.
“I should get this guy into his mom. I have some things I have to take care of before we all meet back up tonight for dinner. It’ll be fun surprising the other kids. It’s only been six months, but it’s felt like six years.”
“I won’t keep you any longer. It was nice meeting you, Kyle. Maybe we’ll see each other again. You sticking around for long?”
“Week or two. Who knows, maybe I’ll fall in love with the place and never leave. Anything could happen, right?”
“Absolutely it could,” she agrees, and others her hand this time. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Pleasure was all mine. Maybe we’ll get to chat again. I’m sure I’ll be around a lot. And any friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine. You ready to go, buddy?”  He pushes his fingers through Declan’s hair, clearing long, thick tresses off his forehead.  “Want to go see mommy?”
“See mommy,” Declan chirps, and then blows Salena a kiss, giving her one of his charming little grins as his uncle carries him up the driveway.
****
The music is deafening; bass intense and pounding, windows shaking. The detached garage had originally been built by the previous owners and used as a place to store a boat and jet skis; the door at the back leading out onto a cement launch that descended into the ocean. It was a luxury they didn’t need, and Tyler had turned the garage into a fully functional gym, stocked with every possibly piece of cardio and weightlifting equipment that could possibly fit within the four walls. It’s his refuge; the one place he can go to when anxious or agitated, where he can safely –and productively- get out all his frustrations and aggression. There were days he’d only been in there for thirty minutes, other where he’d disappear for hours at a time. She never questioned it or denied him that time alone. He was still safe at home, working through things at his own pace and intensity. Far better than the alternative: having him thousands of miles away, putting himself in danger, using his hands to inflict pain on people. Even killing them.
The end results are better as well. Something that she can selfishly enjoy. The pure aesthetics of him; the broad shoulders and back, muscle seemingly packed open muscle, every inch, every ripple, every sinewy tendon and every bulging vein.  Not one inch that isn’t pure and utter perfection. That her fingers and hands haven’t spent countless hours exploring and enjoying. No man has ever had that powerful of an effect on her, especially that long into a relationship.  Where her insides burn and ache just from the simple act of watching him. Not just his body in motion, but the intensity and focus that he puts into it.  
She stands in the doorway and watches him now; the power and the rage behind every kick and punch that he unleashes on the heavy bag. Shirtless and clad in only a pair of athletic shorts, a sheen of sweat covering every inch of his upper body and soaking his hair.  Those blue eyes dark and troubled. Angry.
When the music becomes too much for her ears to bear, she moves to the Bluetooth speaker in the corner and turns down the volume. He’s stopped for a breather; skin flushed, chest heaving, bent over at the waist with his hands resting on his thighs.  The sunlight streaming through the skylight causing the sweat to glisten, highlighting every scar and tattoos that mars his flesh.
“Do I know the person you were fantasizing about beating the shit off?” Esme asks, as she takes a seat on one of the nearby weight benches, holding out one of the two bottles of water she’s brought along with her.
“You know a couple of them,” Tyler admits, using his forearm to clear sweat from his forehead as he approaches, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips; droplets of sweat falling from his hair and down onto her chest and thighs.  “You were sleeping when I got hope. I didn’t want to wake you up. Come out here instead.”
“Well judging by how hard core you were going and all that rage coming out of out, I’d say that was a very good call on your part.”
“Declan and the baby still sleeping?”
She nods. “How long have you been out here kicking the hell of out things?”
“I dunno,” he twists off the cap on the water and downs nearly half the bottle. “Hour maybe. What time is it?”
“Just a little after two.”
“Hour and a bit, then. Times flies when you’re pretending to kill someone, I suppose.”
“Pretending is better than actually doing it,” she reasons, and he nods, then uses his teeth to create a tear in the tape that’s wrapped around both hands. It’s frayed and stained by both grim and blood; the thin layer of protection not enough to keep the already swollen and misshapen knuckles from being torn up.
“Lunch with Ovi went that bad?” she inquires, and motions for him to give her one of his hands; taking one in both of hers, nails gently picking at the tape to begin the task of peeling it off. It’s a simple gesture; that little bit of help. But it’s filled with love.
“It went so bad that lunch never even happened.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. You were pretty agitated before you even left the house. What happened? Did you just completely snap or...?”
“He started in on his bullshit. About the job. It didn’t matter what I said. How bad I made it sound. He doesn’t give a fuck about the reality of it. I don’t what���s happened to him. You’d think about everything he went through in Dhaka...killing Gaspar...seeing what went down on the bridge...that’d be enough to convince him not to do it.”
“Something has warped his mind. Or someone.”  She finishes with the first hand; balling up the soiled and tattered tape and setting it beside her on the bench. Then turns her attention to the other.
“I know I promised I’d do whatever I had to to stop him, but nothing I say or do is going to change his mind. He doesn’t give a shit what I have to say. So short of chaining him up in the basement and keeping him prisoner, I think we’re looking at option B.”
Esme sighs. “I was hoping to avoid option B.”
“We were BOTH hoping to avoid option B. But if we try and look at it optimistically...”
“Isn’t that my thing?” she grins.  “Aren’t I usually the optimistic one while you border on the worst-case scenario side of things?”
“What did you say the other night? About teaching an old dog new tricks? Guess you’re starting to rub off on me after six years.”
“So what is the optimistic way of looking at it? Is there even such a thing when it comes to the job?”
“Maybe he won’t get himself into trouble,” Tyler says. “Maybe he’ll be smart enough to just take easy shit. Simple in and out extractions.”
“We both know there’s nothing simple about any extraction. Whether it’s supposed to be in and out or not. Can you honestly think of one extraction that went down without a hitch? You’d done how many by the time you quit? At least a hundred. Probably more. When was the last one that you remember things didn't go south?”
Tyler frowns. “You’re killing my optimistic vibe here.”
She gives an apologetic smile.
“There’s a chance that whatever he decides to take will be nice and easy. At least until he gets his feet under him. I figure it can go one of two ways. He’ll either hate it, or he’ll push himself until he can handle more intense jobs.”
“Okay, honey, I don’t think you quite grasp looking at the brighter side of things. Because you started out really well, but you sort of shit the bed at the end there. How is that last part in any way optimistic? We want him stopping, not continuing.”
“So maybe I don’t have the optimism thing perfected just yet. But if the worst-case scenario is that he likes doing it and busts his ass to get better at it, that’s not so bad, yeah?”
“Would that not be the somewhat okay scenario? Seeing as the worst-case scenario would be something like...I don’t know.... death?”
“Not every mercenary dies,” Tyler informs her.
“But the percentage is higher of those that do and those who live long, happy lives. You’re one of the lucky ones.”
“Kind of bold of you to assume that I’m both happy and I’m going to live a long life,” he teases.
“You won’t live long making smart ass comment like that,” she retorts.
Grinning, he leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, then to the sensitive spot below her ear. “Thank you,” he says, when she finishes unwrapping his hand and adds the tape to the original ball.  
“So...” her hands fall on his shoulders as he sits on the ground in front of her, leaning back against her legs. “....is that as bad as things got today, or...”
“No. It got worse,” he grimaces as he stretches his legs out in front of him; knee cracking and popping with even that simple of a movement. “It got a lot worse.”
“I have a feeling I know why. But I’m going to let you tell me.” Her fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling the tension that has settled deep into the muscles. “Because I think I know what you’re going to say.”
“I’ll give you three guesses what happened.”
“Nope. We are not playing that game. You’re just going to spit it out. Because once it’s out in the open, we can deal with it. Together. Rationally.”
“Any form of the word rational and you don’t exactly go hand in hand. Fuck...” he growls, when she clamps down on the right trap. “...okay...okay...I’ll tell you. I’ll talk. Are you sure it wasn’t torture you specialized in instead of intel?”
“I have ways of making you suffer, Tyler. That aren’t physical. You think almost four months is bad? Try six. Or eight. Or twelve.”
He scowls. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. So, talk. Or you’ll spent the next six months to a year doing a lot a jerking off or taking cold showers.”
“You have to promise me that you won’t completely lose your shit on me. Because I’m actually the innocent one in all of this fucked up mess.”
“Okay,” Esme agrees. “I promise.”
“Nik showed up. Just out of the blue. Ovi set me up. He knew I wouldn’t totally snap in public. He’s the one who told her to meet us there. That sneaky little fuck. I don’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed.”
“Well I know which one I am, and it’s not impressed.”
“You don’t seem that surprised,” he remarks.  “That she did show up.”
“Nik is like herpes,” Esme muses. “Can’t get rid of her no matter how hard you try.”
Tyler laughs. “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”
“And I already knew she was in town. Because I had my own surprise visitor today. My brother showed up. Completely unannounced. Just wandered in like it was no big deal that he just didn’t come all the way from Colorado. It was too much wishful thinking on my part to hope he’d come alone, apparently.”
Tyler sips his water. “What did he want?
“Just a social visit. Nothing majorly important was brought up. What did Nik want?”
“I didn’t agree to tell you THAT part.”
“Tyler, don’t press your luck. I love you, but just don’t.”
“She’s been recruiting him. Ovi. Apparently when he started thinking about all this job shit, he contacted her. Which makes sense in a way, because she’d have all the answers to his questions.  She’s a fountain of information. I only know the hands-on stuff. She knows that and what goes on behind the scenes. So he reached out to her and I guess she made it sound even more appealing instead of discouraging.”
“Color me surprised,” Esme scoffs. “That she’d suck him right in. Fuck that bitch.”
“You told me you’d stay calm,” he reminds her.
“I am calm. Have I strangled you yet? No. So I’m calm.”
“Just a reminder that I’m innocent in all of this. In case you needed to hear that again.”
“I’m not mad at you,” she assures him. “Not in the slightest. So,” she runs her hands along his shoulders and presses a kiss to his ear. “.... go on.”
“She’s offered him a position,” Tyler continues, as he picks at the label on the now empty water bottle. “With her team. But there’s a catch.”
Esme smirks. “There always is with Nik. Nothing is ever cut and dry with her. What’s the catch?”
“She wants him trained. Extensively. Weapons, hand to hand combat, that sort of shit. And she won’t give him a job unless he can prove to her that he can handle things.”
“That actually seems fairly reasonable for Nik. What does it have to do with you?”
“Before I tell you that part, I just want to say that I love you and I wasn’t going to make any decision without you. If you don’t want me doing it, I don’t do it. Simple as that. Okay?”
“Fair enough.”
“Nik wants me to be the one that trains him.”
She issues a heavy sigh.  
“But...” Tyler turns around to face her, forearms resting on her thighs. “...I don’t have to go anywhere to do it. It’s not like I have to actually go on a job and have him shadow me or some shit like that. Nik is a lot of things, but she’s not THAT reckless. Everything can be done here. All hands on. We’ve got a gym, a beach we can use to practice some shit on, there’s gun ranges in the town over, we have the woods out back.”
“You have a hunting rifle and a handgun,” she reminds him. “That’s hardly enough to train him with.”
“It would only take one phone call and I’d have everything I need. I’m not worried about that.”
“Do you want to do it? Train him?”
“Do you want me to do it?” he counters. “Because if we don’t agree on this, I don’t do it. That’s it. If you think it’s a bad idea and you’d rather I not do it, then just say it. I won’t argue. So...” he runs his palms along her thighs. “...what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this is fucked up,” Esme admits. “Because I thought this was all behind us. That every part of the job was in the past. That we finally got away from it. Like...fuck, Tyler. When is this going to end? Will it ever end? Will it ever leave you alone? I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you. I do not want you getting dragged back into this. Into the actual job. Because she's going to try. She's going to try and manipulate you all over again.”
“It won’t work. I’m done. I’m not going back. Unless there’s no other choice.  We agreed on that. That I’d only go if Ovi got himself into trouble. That is the one and only time I’d go back. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“What’s the alternative? If you don’t train him?”
“He gets someone that does a half assed job and Nik thinks it’s acceptable and sends him off somewhere. To die.”
“Well you can’t let that happened. That’s the last thing we want. And if he’s so hell bent on doing this and there’s no way you change his mind...”
“He’s not going to listen to me, babe. He’s going to do this whether I agree with it or not.”
“So then logically it should be you. That trains him,” she concludes. “He trusts you. I trust you. I know that you’d do it right. You were the best, Tyler. Everyone knew it. You weren’t just water cooler gossip. Or some urban legend. You were exactly who everyone said you were.  Which means you’re Ovi’s only hope.”
“I don’t know about his only hope, but I’m his best hope. Tell me what you want,” he takes her hands in his, kissing the tops of both before tightly squeezing. His eyes never leaving hers. “If you want me to do it, I need to hear you say it. It’s important to me that you say it.”
“And it’s a sure thing that you won’t have to go anywhere? That you can do all of this right here?”
“There’s no reason for me to go anywhere. Not unless I have to. Not unless he completely fucks up and I have to rescue his sorry ass. If you don’t want me involved at all...”
“It’s not that. I want you to help him. I just worry about what else Nik will try to get you into.”
“Fuck Nik. This is about Ovi. And us. She has nothing to do with this. If you say yes, I commit. If you say no, we just go on with our lives like we never had this conversation. There’s no in between. Just yes or no.”
She sighs, then leans forward and rests her forehead against his. Her eyes closed, her voice barely above a whisper. “You need to do this,” she admits, even though it hurts like hell to do so.  “I want you to do it.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he places a kiss to her brow, lips lingering there for several seconds. “It goes no further than this. I do what I have to do to get him ready. Then just hope he doesn’t need anything else.”
“I swear to God, I will kill him with my bare fucking hands if this gets any worse. If he totally fucks up and you have to go in and get him, I will slaughter him the second he gets back.”
“That kind of defeats the purpose of getting him out of there alive if he’s just going to end up dead in the first place.”
“It’s you I worry about,” she stresses. “It’s you that I don’t want ending up dead. Because we’re supposed to grow old and grey and miserable together.”
“Baby, there is no one else I want to grow old and grey and miserable with. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. Trust me. I’m asking you to trust me. Can you do that?”
She nods, then releases his hands and wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. The smell of sweat and the slick dampness of his body oddly comforting.  
“I love you,” he says, as his hands softly rub up and down her back. “I love you and everything is going to be okay.”
“I love you too,” her voice is muffled against him. “Just do whatever it takes to help him survive. To keep him out of trouble. And keep yourself alive.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m too stubborn to die, remember? Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easy. It’s either spend the next fifty years with me or kill me yourself.”
“Never,” she declares, and pulls back to look at him. “I like having you around.”
“Yeah? Well I like hanging out here, so...”
She smiles, then leans in to kiss him. Long and soft and sweet. “You reek by the way,” she teases, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she shoves him onto his back. “You need to clean yourself up. We’ve got plans for tonight.”
“What kind of plans? It can’t be the sexy kind of plans because we’re still on the no-fly list, so....”
“The kind of plans that involve you having to wear actual pants. And underwear.”
“Both? What the fuck? We’re going all fancy and shit. Do I have to shave too?”
“Maybe tidy it up a bit. So you don’t look homeless.”
“I thought you liked it this length. Because it rubs places in all the right ways.”  he gives her a wink, and then chuckles when she grabs a towel, smacks him in the side of the head with it and then drops it over his face. “Hey, those were your exact words.”
“We are going out. In public. And I said trim the beard. Not shave it. Because you’d probably traumatize your children if you did that. That’s how they know you. With a beard.”
“It’d probably traumatize you too. If cutting the hair didn’t do it, shaving the beard will. So I’ll be nice. I’ll spare you any extra emotional suffering. And where are we going?” he sits up and uses the towel to vigorously rub at his hair. “Am I at least allowed to know that?”
“Out. With my brother. And Nik.”
Tyler groans.
“We need to make nice. Or so my brother says. I told him I’d be civil, at least.”
“I think I’m getting a sore throat. And a fever. I feel hot. Do I feel hot to you? Check my temperature.”
“You’ll be fine,” she says, as she heads for the door. “Remember. Shower. Underwear. Normal pants.”
“Not even shorts? Like cargo shorts?”
“Pants!” she insists, then tosses him the unopened bottle of water. “I’ll go as far as allowing jeans or cargo pants. But they have to be pants.”
“You’re bossy,” he complains, then flops onto his back and lies spread-eagled in the middle of the floor, towel over his face. “Wake me up a half an hour before we leave.”
“The school bus comes in sixty minutes. I’m going to get you up in fifty-nine.”
“You know,” he muses. Underwear? Normal pants? You’re damn lucky I love you as much as I do.”
“Yes,” she grins before stepping out the door.  “I am.”
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ofwizardsandmen · 4 years ago
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Unplanned
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Gossip Witch AU (HP AU)
Characters: Tara Lee (OC),  Mark Yang (changed his last name for plot purposes)
Word count: 2,1k
Genre: fluff, a lot of fluff 
“Mark was eleven the day he decided he wanted Tara Lee to become his wife. It was one of those summer days when the two of them laid sprawled on the grass in the backyard of the Fawley Manor. They had spent the morning talking about Hogwarts and how Tara would write him letters every day and probably send him some of her favorite treats from Honeydukes if she ever got to follow Tyler to the weekend trips to Hogsmeade.”
Mark has known Tara for over two decades. Through the years he’s seen the good, the bad —not like there was much to see, except for the very few times Tara has allowed her free-spirited soul to cloud her judgment,— and basically everything in between. 
And yet, Mark can’t think of a time his girlfriend looked as angry, frustrated, and seemingly disgusted —all at once— as she does today.
All Tara says when she storms into Mark’s one piece apartment, looking beyond stressed, is that her brother has outdone himself this time. Whatever that means, that’s to say something considering Tyler Lee is one of the most stressful people Mark knows, if not the most stressful. However, over time Mark has learned not to even pretend to be surprised by any Tyler-related news simply because Tara’s brother seems to possess the staggering skill of outdoing himself every other day.
Judging by Tara’s expression, today is one of those days.
“There is no way I am going back there, Mark,” Tara announces gravely, shaking her head vehemently as her boyfriend wraps an arm around her supportively “I am never going back to that place. I’m moving out!” That last part she blurts it out of the blue, eyes ignited with a mixture of resolve and something Mark can only describe as murderous rage. it takes him a few seconds to process Tara’s words and realize she’s talking about the home she shares with her brother. 
“T, I get it, Tyler can be a real pain,” This Mark says it sincerely, his mind purposely trying to block the mental images that suddenly assault his memory ”But, think carefully, you can’t just move out. Where are you planning to go?” He asks, genuinely concerned about the possible options Tara might be contemplating… the Fawley Manor or Enzo’s apartment, for example. Or even worse, Arabella Black’s home.
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I can go stay with-“ Tara makes a pause as if trying to organize her thoughts “Enzo” she finally says, confirming Mark’s fears and causing him to bite the inside of his cheek. “Or Adela” she starts counting with her fingers “Leah, Adam, Florence…” Mark only closes his eyes, anticipating Tara to drop the name he dreads the most. “Ara. I’ll call her and ask if I can spend-”
“Babe” Mark steps in front of his girlfriend so they can look at each other face to face, his hands moving to her sides gently “why don’t you talk it out with Tyler first? Whatever happened between you two, and as much as it pains me to say this, but he might have some reason. Not to mention that he adores you and he’d-“
“He’s dating Daniel” Tara blurts, interrupting Mark’s increasingly heartfelt speech and causing him to frown at her, his upper lip slightly going up and creasing the tip of his nose. A look that Tara would’ve considered adorable, had not been for the images occupying her mind at the moment.
“Wait-“ Mark raises a hand, asking Tara not to add a word, his expression as childish as his increasingly mature features allow him to appear now that his 24th birthday is fast approaching “he is- what?”
“Dating, fucking, whatever it is, it’s disgusting, they were-“
“It’s ok, I don’t need the mental image” Mark interrupts, barely being able to conceal the panic in his voice.
“In the living room, Mark” Tara goes on anyhow, causing her boyfriend to wince and scrunch up his nose. “It’s gonna be like this every single day from now on. I can’t put up with that” She claims, allowing her legs to give up and flopping onto Mark’s pastel-colored couch. “Do you agree I have no other option than moving out?” She asks, eyes pleading as she looks up and finds Mark staring down at her with a misplaced expression.
Mark, the ever logical and overthinking soul he is, only presses his lips together and nods slowly before sitting down on the edge of the couch.
“I guess you have no other option,” he says, but it’s still painfully obvious how much he disagrees with her decision. However, Mark is never one to question Tara. He never has questioned Tara even though her decisions made no sense whatsoever or involved the two of them. Mark just doesn’t know how to. He had remained silent even that one time Tara chose to break up with him. “Unless-“
Tara’s eyebrows go up questioningly.
“Unless?”
“Maybe you can use one of those charms you use to soundproof my studio,” Mark suggests hopefully, the slightest bit of blush spreading on his cheeks.
“Mark, no amount of charms will be enough with those two” Tara says and he grimaces at that. “You are being really weird about this” his girlfriend adds, eyeing him as if he'd eventually start to show symptoms of a disease. “You’re ok?”
“Then move in with me” Mark blurts so out of the blue that his own words sound foreign when they come out of his mouth. It would be funny if Tara wasn’t staring at him, looking profusely confused.
“Mark, I can’t invade your personal space.” She reasons logically “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but this apartment is not exactly fit for the two of us,” her eyes dart to the suitcases blocking the corridor and Mark’s guitar and the notebooks where he writes his music down, scattered all over the coffee table and the rug.
“Then let’s find a house,” Mark offers quite simply, not really knowing where the sudden eagerness is coming from.
Moving in together has always seemed the natural next step in their relationship. There’s no denying he’s thought about it a lot. Enough times for him to brainwash himself into believing he knows exactly how waking up next to Tara every morning would feel like and fantasize about getting to a cozy home where she waits for him every night and smothers him with kisses. However, the way Tara looks at him makes his conviction falter and his chest deflate.  
“Mark, I do appreciate the offer, but I don’t think you’re thinking things through,” Tara says her boyfriend’s name carefully and pronounces every word after slowly, almost as though she’s scared of offending him. “Moving in together is a very-“ She hesitates “It’s a huge step, I don’t think you’re aware of it just now”
“I am,” Mark says, finally gathering all the confidence he’s lacked to contradict Tara during those eleven years of relationship.
Mark was eleven the day he decided he wanted Tara Lee to become his wife. It was one of those summer days when the two of them laid sprawled on the grass in the backyard of the Fawley Manor. They had spent the morning talking about Hogwarts and how Tara would write him letters every day and probably send him some of her favorite treats from Honeydukes if she ever got to follow Tyler to the weekend trips to Hogsmeade.
“Why can’t you just keep attending school… hmmm… here?” He had asked. At age eleven and with his reduced knowledge of the magical world, Mark’s was a genuine question. Tara had looked at him as though he had asked why the sky was blue or if Earth was really round. The kind of question whose answer is evident, but requires a lot of complex words and scientific knowledge to explain.
“Because that’s how it works” Tara had settled for an answer that was as useless as it was genuine. “It’s just something I have to do” She had moved to a sitting position and looked down at Mark, her expression warm and confident “If I want to go to Oxford with you, I ought to go to Hogwarts first. I’ll be back before you notice” she had added, smiling so brightly and reassuringly that for a moment, the sun seemed to be paling in comparison. Even as a kid, that was Tara’s charm, her confidence and the way she always seemed to know how to offer consolation and calm Mark’s fears.
Back then, Mark dreamed about becoming an author of the likes of C.S. Lewis or Arthur Conan Doyle and he wouldn’t go a day without carefully planning every step that would take him to Cambridge or Oxford and would allow him to receive a Nobel by the time he turned 50.
“And then, I will write you a book about it” There was a moment’s worth of hesitation “For you, Markie”
Mark was just a kid, but even back then, he knew Tara really meant that.
“In fact…” Mark shallows and then clears his throat a bit too loudly for his cheeks not to tint again. He forces himself to push the childhood memories away and focus on the matter at hand “In fact, that’s something I’ve always thought, something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately” he confesses. “I know how unexpected all of this is and you might think I’m just rushing things because I don’t want you to move in with Ara and have that odious brother of her lurking around, but” Mark speaks so fast that Tara can barely follow along. “Wait, there’s something-” Mark suddenly shoots up and scurries to the other side of his apartment, opening drawers randomly until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He strides back to Tara without even minding the mess he’s left behind him as he shoves something that looks suspiciously like a jewelry box in his pockets.
“Mark, are you ok?” Tara glances at him, awkwardly standing a few steps away from her, and concern crosses her features “I had no idea you still felt that way about Darius, but if that’s a problem, I can always find a place for myself, you know, on my own” she ventures, her lower lip caught firmly between her teeth.
“No, no, no. It’s not about that” Mark shakes his head almost frantically before wiping his hands on the fabric of his jeans. If Tara didn’t know any better, she’d say he seems nervous. But then Mark seems to collect himself, takes a deep breath, and goes down on his knee.
“Mark, I don’t know what you’re doing” There’s panic in Tara’s voice when she attempts to stand up, but Mark’s hands are quick to grab her sides and hold her in place  “I don’t think you’re-“
“Shhhh, let me talk, please,” He asks, speaking over her, his voice deep and serious. “Listen T, it is evident by now, but you’re the love of my life.” Mark stops for a few seconds, feeling as though he’s not making a very good job at conveying what he wants to say. Tara has the good sense to remain silent because she expects there to be more. But the silence stretches, making the look of anticipation on her face to grow deeper. “You’re my best friend and I know it sounds silly, but I’ve always known I want to spend a lifetime with you, it’s always been you and I simply can’t imagine loving anyone the way I love you.” Tara’s face flushes at that, “I know we’re still young, and you might feel it’s too early, but we’ve been together for so long, there’s literally no other step in between. I want to protect you and love you and wake up next to you every morning. I want us to be a family.” Mark gulps quietly as he fishes in the pocket of his jeans, pulling a red leather box “So, Tara Lee, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Tara doesn’t reply immediately, she stares at the sparkling diamond inside the box with her eyes wide open and her thoughts all jumbled up inside her brain. She can’t quite grasp the situation yet, because it all happened so unexpectedly that it almost feels like her frenzied imagination is pulling a cruel prank on her. She blinks twice to make sure she’s not dreaming and then nods slowly, but Mark has already started to speak again, taking her silence for hesitation.
“I mean, it doesn’t have to be immediate, we’ll need a house and you know Jane, so maybe it can be next year or the year after, I just want us to-“ he rambles.
“Yes, Mark. I will marry you” Tara says laughing as her hand slides under his chin. He seems positively confused for a second or two, until then Tara goes on “It doesn’t matter if it’s tomorrow or next year or the year after, I will still want to marry you, Mark Yang, because you’re the love of my life too.”
Mark looks like he can’t quite believe his ears, but as a wide smile starts to spread across his lips, matching Tara’s elated smile, he allows his insecurities to resurface in the form of a silly question “Wait, can you repeat that?”
Tara rolls eyes and fights the urge to chose a sarcastic reply. Instead, when she closes the gap between them and leans to press their lips together, she whispers “yes” against Mark’s lips.
Mark has known Tara for over two decades. And yet, he can’t think of a time she looked as beautiful and happy as she does right now.
...
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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago
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Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers?  Yeah, especially my mom and I. Is there any food in your bedroom? Just my ramen bowl from last night that I haven’t taken out, yet, but it’s empty. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Yes. How expensive is too expensive for a pair of shoes?  I admit to liking my Adidas, which are pricy, but the kind I get are at least under a $100. How far away do your grandparents live from you? They live in another state, about a 12 hour drive away.
What kinds of cereal are in the cupboard? I think there’s just Cinnamon Cheerios at the moment. My family and I don’t really eat cereal much anymore.  Is there anything related to cats in your bedroom?  No. Whats the last thing you spent over 10$ on?  Stuff from Bath & Body Works. They have their fall/Halloween collection in and I just had to get some stuff. Over 30$?  ^^^^ Do you know who lives three houses down from you?  Nope. Do you think Canadians all really love maple syrup? Do they Lane? lol. I’m not Canadian, but I do love maple syrup.  Is there a bulletin board in your room?  Yep. Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? Neither of them really are, but out of the two my mom is more than my dad. My dad has a major sweet tooth and he likes his junk food.  Easter or Halloween? I enjoy both. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards?  I don’t think we have any at the moment. Do you have your moms or dads hair?  I have my dad’s hair color, but my mom’s waviness. She actually had curly hair and has all my life, but she says when she was a kid and teenager it was wavy and then it became curlier as she got older.  Whats the first thing you see when you walk into your bedroom? The 4ft giraffe stands out a lot.  Have you ever skipped history class?  In college I probably did sometimes. I didn’t make a habit of missing class, but it happened now and then either because I didn’t feel well or just didn’t feel up to it that day. I always made sure I knew what was going on that day (like nothing had to be handed in that day or there wasn’t a quiz or exam, of course) and thankfully because of the syllabus I could keep up with the reading and assignments. I just allowed myself to miss a day or two. Do you own any yellow clothes?  I have a yellow shirt and a yellow Adidas hoodie. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair?  I have a cousin who does. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired?  No, but I cried on the last day of 4th grade because I just really liked my teacher lmao. Everyone loved him, he was awesome. It was cool because he ended up being an 8th grade teacher later on and I got to have him again. Does your kitchen looks like it was designed in a completely different decade? No. Whens the last time you wore heels?  Never. Do you have your moms or dads eyes?  My mom’s.  Is there anything shiny in the room youre in?  Yeah. Whats the best date movie? I wouldn’t know. How long has your current best friend been your best friend? All 31 years of my life. Have your parents ever been out of the country? Yes, they’ve both been to Italy before I was born and I’m super jealous. Actually, my mom went once when she was pregnant with me so I kinda went haha. I’d like to experience it for real one day. Are you older then the last person you laughed with?  Yes. How many pairs of jeans, all together, are in your house? I am not even going to attempt to figure that out. Do you swear and yell while playing video games?  No. Would you rather name your daughter Andrea or Eva?  Not having kids, but I do like the name Andrea. Is there any alcohol in the fridge?  I think there is. If you had to get up at 6am tomorrow morning, would it be painful? I’d be up considering I don’t even go to bed until like 7/8AM. :X Have you ever seen the last person you watched TV with drunk?  Yeah. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend?  I had a friend do that. Would you rather get a new brother or sister? No new siblings at this point. My mom had a hysterectomy anyway, so unless she’s adopting, which she’s not, it’s not happening.  Do you have anything in your room youve had for ten years or more?  A lot of things. Do your pets chase after bugs?  My doggo chases flies sometimes lol. She sees me going after them with the fly swatter and she tries to help.  Would you ever kiss the last person who messaged you on facebook/MSN/etc? No. Do eat at home or in restaurants more? Well, I haven’t ate out at a restaurant since February. We do a lot of takeout, though. We did that a lot even before all this, I prefer it. Whens the last time you were so excited you couldnt sleep? Why?  Back in February the night before my Disneyland trip. Audrey Hepburn or Audrey Kicthing?  Hepburn. I’ve never even heard of Audrey Kitching.  Do you e-mail more often then you talk on MSN/AIM?  I don’t know about MSN, which I’ve never had, but AIM hasn’t been a thing for awhile. It’s been over a decade anyway since I’ve used it. I don’t email either, except recently to try and dispute a charge. If your best friends birthday was next week, what would you get them? Well, her birthday is actually next month so I’ve been thinking about what to get her. What is your moms favorite movie? Grease haha. <<< Ha, that’s one of my mom’s faves as well. How much older is your dad then you?  He’s 27 years older than me. What TV family reminds you of your own family?  Hmm. Do you own any flip-flops? Nope. I don’t wear flip flops, sandals, slip ons, or any open toed shoe. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? Nah, my parents didn’t tell me that. Do you have any relatives who really spoil you?  My parents. Are there any drawers in your house that are just filled with junk?  Yeah, we have the designated junk drawer. I personally have a few :X Is the last person you spoke to in love?  Not that I know of. How far away is Chicago from where you live?  It’d be a 32 hour drive and like a 4 hour nonstop flight. Do you know anyone who always looks perfect? Who? I think my mom does. She likes to wear makeup, but I truly don’t think she needs it. I’m also super envious of her flawless skin, which I sadly didn’t get. Do you know anyone who has security cameras in their house?  Yeah. Do you think Zac Efron is really that good looking?  Eh, honestly I’ve never really found him attractive. What was the last movie to make you cry?  Hmm. I’m blanking at the moment. Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around?  No. Who was the main character in the last book you read? Her name is Emma Griffin.  Is the last person you said goodbye to single?  One of them is. Who are the last people you saw kiss?  People on the show I was watching. Have you ever posted a fan fiction on a website?  No. Do you ever fantasize about your future wedding? Whos the bride/groom? Nope. I don’t plan on ever getting married. I’m also not the person who has dreamt of their wedding since they were little. Chapstick or lipgloss? Chapstick. I like ones with a tint of color. What was the last unplesant thing to wake you up?  A nightmare. Do you have any friends who are ALWAYS kissing their bf/gf?  Does that get annoying? Would you rather look at clouds or stars?  Stars. If you could trade appearances with the last person you hugged, would you?  Like I said, I’m super envious of my mom’s flawless skin and I think she looks beautiful with or without makeup. Do you have any relatives who are expecting a baby really soon?  No. Do you ever wonder what the opposite sex do at sleepovers?  Probably play video games, watch movies, and eat. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man?  Sigh. Does your best friend get along with their parents? This same question was in a previous survey I just did. Anyway, yeah she was very close with them when they were alive, but sadly they both have passed away. :( If you were to walk to Florida from where you live, would it take long? Uh, yeah. I live in California and Florida is all the way across on the opposite side. According to Google it would take 912 hours to walk there! Do you understand why 'To kill a mockingbird' is called what it is? I know I learned about the reason why, but I don’t recall. Okay, so I just Googled it because I was curious and yep the explanation is what I was told. When's the last time you broke plans? Why? It’s been a few years now since I’ve had plans, but I started having to cancel and not make plans at all because of health stuff and just for the fact I was really going through a hard time. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you?  Nope. Would you feel safer with an alarm systen or security camera? Both. Does the last person you touched smoke?  No. Do you know someone who is CONSTANTLY texting? Does that annoy you?  It only annoys me when I’m trying to talk to them because so often they’re too focused on whatever they’re doing on their phone. Does it matter to you what kind of shampoo you use?  Yeah. Rate this survey from 1 to 5 (1 worst, 5 best):  I don’t like rating stuff, but it was fine.
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slytherinsilverprincess · 4 years ago
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From Hatred to Love (Dramione)
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Chapter 1 of “From Hatred to Love” : The Party
Summary: Hermione goes to a party with her friends and discovers something really bad. 
AN: Tell me if you want to be tagged! (As usual, I do not own the characters or the universe.) This fanfic will last 13 chapters! I wrote it a long time ago so sorry if some parts are quite childish. Hope you’ll like it! Oh and, I’ve been really mean with Ron in this fic even though I like him so you’re warned!
I can’t believe that I actually let them drag me into this. I, Hermione Granger, -the best student of Hogwarts- was convinced to go to this stupid forbidden party in the Slytherin dungeon. I didn’t come alone of course, Harry, Ron and Ginny were the ones who convinced me to go. Students from all houses were there. I didn’t want to come here, but Ginny begged me to come all day long. We should definitely not underestimate my best friend because when she wants something she gets it. Oh god I wish I could just go back to my room and read my book. I gave Ginny every argument I could find to stay in my room but she kept telling me that I had to live it up and enjoy my youth while I still can. I know that, I sure do. I’m well aware that I spend all of my free time in my room, but that’s what I like. I’m not a party person. Maybe I’m not normal? For me, a good time means a good book and a cup of tea. And yet, here I am, at a party surrounded by drunk people who can’t walk straight. The music was way too loud for my poor ears. I’m looking for familiar faces in the crowd, but my friends abandoned me in this mess. Ok, if I have to be stuck at this goddamn party, I’m gonna try to have some fun and besides, I have no intention to remember this. As I pulled down my dress -way too short and sexy- that Ginny lent me -according to her my dresses weren’t good enough for parties- to keep it down I struggled to go to the bar. They were too many people and some of them trampled on my feet who were already sore because of my high heels. When I finally reached the bar, I let myself fall on a bar stool and I swore to myself that I would never follow Ginny to a party again. I grabbed a butterbeer from the counter and I watched the extent of the damages for now. A dozen students were scattered on the floor and the others were really drunk. They’ll probably be lost if I asked them their names. From where I stand I notice Harry and Ginny dancing together. They’re so cute, sometimes I envy their beautiful relationship. I’m looking for Ron, my boyfriend who left without me. God I bet he’s with this Lavander Brown who keeps flirting with him. Our relationship is complicated, he’s never with me, he’s never showing me any affection. It’s like we weren’t actually a couple. The thing is, whenever I try to talk to him about our issues Lavander shows up. I’m not actually jealous of her because the Ron I know would never cheat on me but it’s so annoying to be constantly the third wheel. With Harry, it’s different. Between us there is only a strong friendship. He’s like the brother I never had. Yet, he’s more present in my life than Ron is. Suddenly worried that I still haven’t seen Ron, I put the Butterbeer in my purse and I went to ask Harry if he knows where Ron is. However, when they saw me, their faces completely changed. It was like they had just seen a ghost.
Hermione « Have you guys seen Ron ? What is it ? Do I have a spot in the middle of my face ? »
They exchange awkward looks and then, Ginny started.
Ginny « No, don’t worry. You’re stunning as always. It’s just that … We thought he was with you because… we heard… »
Harry « We saw that Ron went over there. » As he was speaking, he pointed the corner of the room where there was a quiet place hidden by a curtain. « And we heard some … noises… moans and we thought that you were with him since … But you’re not. We’re sorry Hermione. »
I felt the tears coming when my brain analysed what Harry had just said. My world threaten to blow up at any minute now. My heart skipped a beat. This can’t be real, Ron would never do such a thing, not to me. I needed to see this by myself, and I started to walk toward this isolated place with hesitation. Harry and Ginny tried to stopped me but they couldn’t. No one could have actually. They gave up, but I heard they were calling me. I didn’t look back. I was close now, I could feel my pulse through my temple. When I opened the curtain and that I saw that Ron was kissing Lavender and that his hands were under her skirt I almost threw up. When Ron saw me, he pushed Lavender away with a jolt. She wailed with exasperation and he stared at me with horrified eyes. When will I finally wake up from this awful nightmare ? It has to be a nightmare, and this can’t be real. Unfortunately, this was reality. We were staring at each over, and none of us knew what to say. After a few seconds that seemed like eternity, he finally opened his mouth and he apologized again and again.
Ron « I’m so sorry Hermione, please, you have to understand, this isn’t what you think. We were just … I was just… »
I couldn’t let him finish his sentence. My hand smashed his cheek. I caught him kissing another girl, and he he still thinks that he can just lie to my face? I may have hurt him, I admit that my slap was a bit stronger than I thought but I got carried away. Lavender screamed and grabbed Ron’s back. My hand left a big red mark on his cheek. That’s good. I was so furious that I couldn’t hold back my words.
Hermione « Ronald! It’s over. We’re over ! Do you hear me ? Don’t ever come back, don’t ever, ever talk to me again unless you want me to cut your balls out ! You’re nothing but an imbecile! Oh, and when you’ll return and complain about her because she’s calling you with awkward names or when she’ll tie your hair with ribbons, I’ll laugh at your face!" Ron’s gaze was hard to interpret. He was staring at me with an odd expression. I could see some sadness, regret maybe? But also anger. I screamed so hard that everyone was watching us. They’d stopped what they were doing because we were now the entertainment of the evening. I could feel myself blushing and I stepped back. Harry catches me, and I can hear him asking me if I’m okay. He already knows the answer to that. Still, I whispered a « no, but I will be. » with a low voice before heading to the way out. Dozens of eyes were on me.
Hermione « What? Do you want my fucking picture? »
Slowly, they started to dance again and forget me. I tried to make my way out, I was almost there when someone pushed me. I tipped forward and I landed on someone. Dammit! I knew this smell very well since it’s Draco’s. I stepped back very quickly. When my brown eyes met his grey eyes I felt a shiver running through my spine. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Draco had… changed a lot lately. He was really handsome now. Oh god, why do I even think about that ? I could see a grin on his lips.
Draco « I wasn’t expecting that from you Granger. His Ron that lame in the sack? Is that why you threw yourself in my arms? Sorry love, but I don’t hang out with Mudbloods. »
I could clearly see that he wanted to laugh. He knew he succeeded in his task. He managed to destabilize me. He was surrounded by his two best friends. Theodore had the same expression than Draco, but Blaise was weirdly upset with him.
Hermione « Really? You’re so pathetic. You really need to understand that not all the girls fantasize on you at night. I want you to know that you disgust me and that I rather kiss Snape than you! »
The truth is, none of the things I said were true. That’s what scares me. I cannot fall for him. I won’t fall for the guy who turned my life into a living hell. My line made Blaise laugh and I could see that Theodore was trying to hold back a laugh. Draco, on the other hand, didn’t think this was funny. I must have hurt his giant ego. I chose this moment to flee because I really upset him.
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kricketwritesstories · 5 years ago
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Title: Poptarts, Fanfiction, and Accidental Confession
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Characters: Bucky, Reader, Thor, Loki, and Jarvis
Summary: The Reader is not her best in the morning, and Loki takes advantage. Thor just wants revenge for the loss of his pop tarts; and Jarvis proves he owns everyone!
"Y/N, I truly must thank you for this tableture," Loki declared sincerely as he glided into the room with it in hand.
"It's just a tablet," you said as you popped the last of your cherry pop tart in your mouth, "you're most welcome."
Loki sauntered to the fridge to get some juice. Once he poured himself a glass, he gracefully hopped up on the island. He took a sip and smiled mischievously.
"It really has given me a wealth of Midgardian knowledge," he continued.
You were still hungry and not entirely awake yet so you only slightly nodded in response as you went looking for more pop tarts. To your horror, you discovered you'd eaten the last one.
"He's going to kill me," you gulp.
"Kill is a strong way to go, he may punish you a bit, but don't worry you seem like a sub to me so you should enjoy it," Loki jabbed without looking up from his tablet.
You choke on air, "EXCUSE ME?!"
"Well, you see a sub is -"
"I know what a sub is Loki," you start.
"Oh I'm sure you do, my lady," Loki smirked.
"But what does a sandwich have to do with being punished," you say dazed.
Loki laughed and jumped off the island to walk over and tap you on the nose. "This, this adorable density is exactly why my ship has yet to sail," Loki whispered.
"GOOD MORNING BROTHER! GOOD MORNING LADY Y/N - MY FAVORITE PLATONIC MIDGARDIAN WOMAN," Thor boomed.
"You don't have to add platonic every time dearie," you sigh happily, "Jane's not here and we already cleared that debacle up. Now Loki, I didn't know you were interested in sailing."
Loki sighed loudly and threw his hands up in the air. "I can see how you and my brother are, what's it called? Oh yes, besties," he said while rolling his eyes.
Jarvis chimed in over the kitchen speakers, "Miss Y/N, I think I can be of service. I know mornings aren't your peak brain wave time."
"Thanks Jarvis...hey! Wait a minute," you started before Thor cut you off.
"WHERE ARE MY MAGICAL CONFECTION ENVELOPES?! MY FRUIT FILLED DREAMS?! MY TARTS THAT POP," he cried out in despair.
"Keep your voice down brother, you'll wake the dead with that racket," Loki began, "now let's watch as Jarvis teaches Y/N something. By the way she at your pop tarts."
Thor gasped in horror but took a seat all the same and watched you carefully.
"As I was saying," Jarvis began, "what Master Loki was referring to wasn't an actual 'ship' according to his Internet history, he seems to frequent 4 websites -"
Loki's eyes grew wide in horror, "Inferior tech, she need not know -"
"Twitter, Tumblr, ArchiveofOurOwn, and CatsAreLife.com," Jarvis continued pointedly, "and two of those websites speak a lot of shipping."
Thor roared with laughter as Loki turned pink, "I TOO ENJOY THE TINY PURRING BALLS OF FLUFF, BUT ARE THEY REALLY LIFE BROTHER."
"Thor," you warned gently, "you're too loud for this early in the morning. Plus this would best be kept between us."
Loki sighed gratefully before you continued, "After all, the more people know about it the less able we are to use it for blackmail purposes."
"Y/N, focus," Jarvis interrupted, "when you 'ship' two people it means you want them to be in a relationship with each other. If Loki's 2nd Tumblr page is any indication -"
"HEY," Loki shouted, "WHAT RIGHT HAVE YOU TO PRY INTO MY -"
"Adopted or not, you two certainly are brothers," you laugh, "continue Jarvis."
"Loki and I share the same ship," Jarvis finished.
"Huh," you shrugged, "I don't follow."
"His 2nd Tumblr name is WintersDollFan69, he's even written some fanfiction on -"
"THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH JARVIS," Loki screamed as he slammed his hands down on the table.
"I particularly like the one where Y/N and Bucky are locked in a closet and have to confess their feelings. That of course leads to the number of your blog name," Jarvis elaborated.
"WHY - thank you I actually worked really hard on that one," Loki said genuinely touched, "I actually get my ideas from ways I've thought of to force them together."
"That's very creative of you, Master Loki," Jarvis complimented, "you know I could arrange some of the scenarios."
"Could you really," he said fascinated.
You turned bright red at all this knowledge, and silently prayed that Thor went back to worrying about his pop tarts. Alas, that was not the case.
"HO! HO! LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE ELSE HAS DISCOVERED YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT BROTHER BARNES," Thor shouted happily, "HOW DOES THIS MAKE YOU FEEL MRS. BARNES, TO KNOW THAT SO MANY PEOPLE SHIP YOU?!"
"Wait what," Loki and Jarvis asked at the same time.
"LADY Y/N LOVES TO GET LOST IN THE BLUE ORBS OF HIS EYES AND WISHES TO TANGLE HER FINGERS IN HIS LUSCIOUS MANE. I CANNOT COUNT HOW MANY TIMES I HAVE SEEN HER LOSE HERSELF TO FANTASIES OF BEING WHISKED IN HIS ARMS AND KISSED SENSELESS," he teased.
"THOR," you shout, "Shut. Up. NOW!"
"NO," he shouted back, "YOU ATE MY POP TARTS!"
"Please, he might hear you," you begged, "and I can't stand the thought of him knowing. I just -"
"WANT TO HUG HIM AND TO KISS HIM AND TO LOVE AND MARRY HIM," Thor sing songed.
You cursed the day you showed him Miss Congeniality.
"Y/N JUST ADMIT IT," Thor continued.
"She doesn't have to," a husky voice came from behind them, "I heard everything."
You'd fantasizes enough about that voice to know who it belonged to, and you wish that the floor would just swallow you up. You couldn't dare turn around, and your voice cracked as you pleaded, "Bucky, I -"
You felt strong arms grab your waist and twirl you around then bend you down. Bucky's lips crashed on to yours with a passion that made all the fantasies and daydreams pale in comparison. He cradled your head with his metal arm while his flesh one remained wrapped securely around your waist.
When he stopped and righted you again, you almost fell over and he had to steady you. He brought his flesh hand up to cup your cheek and make you look him in the eyes.
"I ship us, too," he admitted sheepishly, "whatdya say, doll?"
You gulp and find your courage.
"I say, we look up WintersDollFan69 and re-enact some of his stories," you said as your eyes sparkled with promise, love, and lust.
Bucky growled and scooped you up bridal style and ran out of the room causing you to laugh heartily.
"What...just...BUT MY POP TARTS," Thor whimpered.
Loki walked over to him and patted him on his shoulder, "I don't believe she'll be getting you more pop tarts anytime soon....I don't think we'll be seeing her anytime soon - but we'll probably hear her soon enough."
Loki smiled wickedly and picked up his tablet as Jarvis spoke, "I agree Master Loki, and I'll add pop tarts to the shopping list Master Thor."
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goldheartofsteel · 5 years ago
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and he’s home - a LAMP/CALM Fanfic
Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Characters: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders
Relationship: Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton
Rating: General Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Self-Doubt, Assumptions, Kissing, Enthusiastic Kissing
READ ON AO3
Opening the door to his apartment he shared with his best friends, Patton sighs contently.
His time away gave him time to think and be distracted from his situation in equal measure.
Patton’s not surprised to find the apartment quiet and empty at this time of day. Coming back now, gives him time to settle in and brace himself for seeing things he doesn’t wanna see and keep his feelings to himself.
His bags make it to the foot of his bed before his plan unravels.
“Patton? You’re back?” questions a hopeful voice from his doorway.
Patton spins on the spot and smiles at Roman.
“Yuppers. It was nice to see my folks but it’s good to be home. Aren’t you supposed to be working?” he replies.
Shaking his head, Roman’s a spring ready to launch.
“Nope, switched shifts with a co-worker.”
Patton opens his mouth to say something when Roman launches himself at him, knocking him backwards onto his bed, beneath Roman; something he’s fantasized about though not under these circumstances.
“God, I missed you,” whispers Roman against Patton’s neck.
Unsure of what to do, Patton wraps his arm around Roman then slowly rubs his back causing his friend to snuggle closer.
Roman relaxes against him then drifts off to sleep where he is.
Seeing he’s stuck for the foreseeable future; Patton takes comfort from Roman’s presence and follows him off to dreamland.
Later that evening, two other familiar voices rouse Patton.
“Well, this is just too precious to process,” comments one voice.
“I literally can’t think of anything bitter or cynical to remark,” says another.
Blinking a few times before adjusting his glasses, Patton looks over to his doorway and spots his other two best friends, Logan and Virgil standing there and looking at him and Roman.
Oh bugger.
He knows what this looks like but what’s going is so far from the truth and he’d never want to come between them, as much as it hurts because he knows his three best friends are happily together.
All of his squirming wakes up Roman who let’s go of him without thinking and Patton sends himself flying backwards and off of the bed. As he lays there, all he can think of is he hopes he didn’t ruin Roman’s relationship.
A purple and black arm appears in his line of vision.
Patton looks up and Virgil’s there with a concerned look on his face as he waits for Patton to take his hand, which he does immediately.
What he doesn’t expect is Virgil using his hold on Patton’s hand, pull him towards him then hugs him tightly, leaning his forehead against Patton’s before closing his eyes.
“Next time, I’m going with you,” he whispers.
Patton doesn’t know how long they stand like this.
Cough.
Virgil turns his head and hisses at Logan and Roman, who take several steps backwards with their hands raised in the air unthreateningly.
Patton blinks.
This is new.
“As much as I like having ya’ll in my room, maybe we should go out to the living room,” suggests Patton.
Seeing as Virgil’s not gonna let him go any time soon, Patton lifts him up, causing Virgil’s legs to wrap around his waist on instinct and his grip around his neck to tighten.
Patton thinks he hears Roman whisper,
“That’s hot,”
Under his breath but surely that can’t be right.
Pushing the thought out of his mind, Patton concentrates on carrying Virgil out into the living room while Roman and Logan follow him.
“Alright, you’re gonna have to get down so I don’t drop you,” states Patton.
Virgil pouts but unwraps his legs from Patton’s waist before using him to help stabilize himself.
Removing himself from Virgil’s grip, Patton sends him a smile in response to Virgil’s pout at his actions (and boy, doesn’t Patton want to kiss that pout right off his lips).
He looks at Logan before opening his arms for a hug.
Long ago, Patton realizes that this isn’t something Logan’s always in the mood for.
He’s pleased however, instead of hesitating…Logan immediately steps into his space and hugs him tightly.
“It pleases me greatly to have you back,” Logan says softly.
“I had a good weekend but I’m glad to be back,” he replies.
Logan squeezes him softly in response, content to enjoy the moment.
“Alright, lovebirds. Time to break it up,” yells Roman.
In an instant, Patton’s reminded of his situation and how he has no place in their relationship. Panicked, he lets go of Logan then jumps backwards to put space between him and the others. Apparently, it’s still too easy for him to fall into old habits which, not good for getting over his crushes.
“Patton? Are you alright?” asks Logan.
“Uh, yeah; been a long travel day and all that,” he answers.
Virgil frowns as he watches Patton.
“This is the second time tonight you’ve reacted like this. You sure you’re all good?” he questions.
“Ac-ac-act like what?” responds Patton.
“A kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar,” explains Virgil.
Patton shakes his head.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry. I probably should get some sleep,” he says as he tries to head back to his room.
A hand grabs his own causing Patton to pause and look at Roman. He can’t decipher the look in Roman’s eyes.
“Maybe Remus was right after all…” he trails off.
Patton tilts his head to the side in confusion because Roman never admits it when his brother is right about something. The confusion grows when both Logan and Virgil have a lightbulb moment themselves.
“You’re in love with us but think we couldn’t feel the same way about you,” states Roman.
Patton bites his lip.
��You know about us, don’t you Patton?” comments Logan.
His silence illuminates something for both Roman and Virgil.
It’s time to come clean to his best friends.
“How could I not fall in love with all of you? There’s no one better on the Earth than the three of you,” he sighs, “that’s why it’s not hard to realize you’re all out of my league and I have no place here,” Patton admits.
“Oh Pat…”comments Virgil softly.
Logan moves to his side once more.
“Falsehood.”
Before Logan says another word, Roman jumps in.
“The last few days without you here…the apartment felt cold and more like a house than a home. Without you, Patton,” Roman pauses and runs a hand through his hair, “without you…we’re incomplete. You’re our heart and we’re in love with you.”
Logan and Virgil nod in immediate agreement.
It’s overwhelming and he feels like he’s gonna faint but that doesn’t stop him from smiling the brightest and lovingly smile at them causing all three of the men to blush bright red.
Logan’s the closest to him, so Patton grabs his hand and pulls Logan towards him, stealing the move Virgil used early but instead of hugging him, Patton gently cups his cheeks before kissing him for a few moments then letting go.
Next comes Virgil but despite Patton’s plan of kissing softly and gently like Logan, he presses himself up against Patton as he kisses him back; desperately but fiercely at the same time. When they part, it takes Patton a couple moments to find himself.
Last but certainly not least is Roman, determined to not be outdone by Virgil.
As Patton kisses him, he wraps himself around Patton to the point, one wrong move sends them down onto the couch. Then when Patton pulls away to breath, Roman moves his lips to Patton’s neck, surprising him enough to get a startled squeak out of him.
Then Roman feels himself being pulled back.
“Alright, Princey; remember, you gotta share and I think Patton needs some space to breath,” comments Virgil.
Romans hops up, allowing Patton to sit up and take a couple deep breaths with Logan sitting besides him and rubbing his back.
Looking from Logan to Roman to Virgil and back again, Patton couldn’t believe his dreams were coming true.
“This isn’t a dream, right?” he asks.
Virgil laughs lightly, pushing Roman down next to Patton on the couch then sits in his lap.
“This is very much real, Pat. You have nothing to worry about,” replies Virgil as he takes Patton’s hand.
Patton drapes his free arm over Logan’s shoulder, who moves closer to Patton before kissing him on the forehead.
“Indeed, we’re very much in love with you and none of us would have it any other way,” comments Logan.
Roman smiles at him contentedly.
A smile blossoms on Patton’s face – home really is where the heart is and he’s home.
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i-do-as-i-want · 5 years ago
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Finished part one of Jesse and Dodger play through of lis2 chapter 4.
I have a few thoughts mostly about Finn and Cassidy because they fucking nailed it. (Jesse and Dodger fucking nailed it tho- They got out quietly, they didn't get Joey invovled. They fucking nailed that shit every choice I would have made.)
But the Finn and Cassidy situation is still the biggest fuck up on Dontnods end.
I have the biggest problem with Finn and Cassidy as love interest. They are both the embodiment of the manic pixie girl archer type. Cassidy is so free spirited that she not stable enough to stay in one place. Nor to stop moving. Everything Sean canonically wants for him and his brother. They lean real heavy into Cassidy as a open romance options. While finn is kinda hidden off to the side and the only way to really get into it. Is if your a piece of shit brother and say "yeah putting my baby bother in a dangerous situation for a little bit of money from the weedman is a good idea. Thanks boo!"
Finn is no better, he wants a stable life and it clear he has home roots. Where he has had a family a band of brother. But they all fell apart. He legit yearns for that life again with someone he may love. And be in one place. His problem? To much of a free spirit and is a constant fuck up. With zero impluse control, nor any idea of how to think shit through. (Let me bring it back around to the Youtube video.)
So when Dodger and Jesse say fuck him. They legit have all the reason to say that because Dontnod fucked him over. Cassidy story has ended at a amazing place while. Finn is kinda left there (even tho jesse want to have a conversation with Finn. Where he fantasizes about Finn atleast saying sorry for being a piece of shit.) (Spoilers they don't and it makes sense because they told no one they were leaving. Also from what i saw spoiler wise. They didn't romance him so Sean may have went off on Finn no matter. The calm closure situation Jesse may have wanted.)
At first I hated the fact, Jesse and Dodger were on the fuck Finn train but the more I thought about it. The more I realized, o h shit they right. I don't think I like Finn outside of how he looks. Why?
Because the story legit trashed him. What should have happen instead of the narrative of Sean trying so hard to get his dick wet. That hes ignoring his baby brother (which the players can activity fight agiasnt but that doesn't matter.) Finn is still implied to be picking up your slack. He gets the favor of your baby brother.
But Cassidy is very much there honestly everywhere while you have these very specfic moment to which to romance finn.
This could have been remdy in various ways. The most clear one is, making it so both parties. I.e Cassidy and Finn wanna rob miler. But you have the choices of saying no to both. And get the outcome of everyone getting hurt. Putting both Finn and Cassidy on the same stepping stand for their sins. Instead of Cassidy being without any and Finn with all of it.
Another glaring issuse could be making romancing finn a legit option. The best way to have played into this was to invovle Daniel. Actually play up the fact Daniel like Finn and dislike Cassidy. That Finn would off handely say something like.
"I really like your bother etc." And Daniel taking that and trying to get Sean to come hang out with Finn and him. But this only works if Daniel and Sean are allowed to be on good terms. If your not spending every waking moment ignoring your brother. So that way Daniel wouldn't be jealous of you possibly taking Finn away from him. But more of him trying to hook you two up because to him. Having 2 brother is way better than just one. I think it would have been genuinely funny. To have some concrete moments of Daniel asking Sean about his sexuailty. And Sean trying to fumble around trying to explain. How sometimes you like boys and sometimes you like girls. And Daniel 100% not understanding but outs Finn as the reason why he asked. Because he wants to know if Daniel would kiss finn.
See akward cute shit that fixs the whole bullshit of Daniel progessivly getting angry at you for not spending time with him. When you the player activity do.
My literal fixs to Finn character is just have more finn and take out alk the bullshit shoehorn stuff.
I don't get how this could have been missed. This isn't even big character personailty changes these are just moment that could have made the woods chapter better and finn better. Shit actually adressing Cassidy instead of saving the possible. We could never work talk for later chapters.
To summarize, I wanted to like Finn but I don't and it saddens me. I wanted to like Cassidy but i fucking don't.
The only real love interest is Sean bestfriend at home.
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snarkymarly · 5 years ago
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Marlene McKinnon: Biography
tw: Killing mentioned, implied PTSD
If you had asked Marlene as a child what she wanted to do when she grew up, she would have said make her family proud. The McKinnons are a well known pureblood household after all and she was supposed to be their shining light. Their beautiful daughter with braids, pink dresses and a smile that could warm the room. She was the pristine example of her parent’s hard work. Only permitted to talk to those who her parents approved of, there were few outside influences to change or challenge her way of thinking in her younger years. Until she met James. Despite her tendency to follow her brother around and assist with his trouble making, she connected immediately with James Potter. It didn’t take long for the siblings to “adopt” him into their family. Marlene spent her early years with bows in her hair, muddy feet and a constant smile. 
When Liam left to go to Hogwarts, Marlene was in awe of the Express, the amount of other witches and wizards. Of course, she was aware they existed, however her family stayed out of the busy social scene, preferring to keep to themselves and their friends. It was, however, Marlene’s first glimpse of what was really out there. Life at home without Liam was strange. It meant more attention on Marlene, but her parents clearly missed their son and nothing she could do would make their faces light up the way a letter from Liam did. Every dinner conversation centered around how well liked he was, his excellent school performance and his Quidditch candidacy. Marlene loved and missed her brother, but hated feeling like she was less important than a piece of paper. So she spent more time with James, the pair fantasizing about what their years at Hogwarts would entail. Though a mark of insecurity, Marlene also decided to use her brother’s success as motivation, to find a way to beat him at his own game. Then, it was Marlene’s turn.
Unable to find James on the express, Marlene wandered around the train compartments until a cheery voice offered her a spot. That was how Marlene met Lily Evans and Mary MacDonald. The three girls talked with barely controlled enthusiasm about the rumors of the school. Unlike most of the other students, Marlene wasn’t nervous about her sorting. She was supposed to be sorted into Slytherin, or maybe Ravenclaw just as everyone else in her family was. A week later, she learned about howlers when word of her Gryffindor sorting reached her parents. Rather than immediately reuniting with James as she had planned, Marlene bonded with her two new friends and met Alice and Dorcas along the way. For the first time since meeting James, Marlene expanded her idea of family to encompass the four girls. Initially, classes were fascinating. While she had been taught basic magic before, she enjoyed expanding her knowledge while meeting new people. It didn’t take long for Marlene to have woven herself into the middle of the school, enraptured with the lives of others, whether they were friends or not.
However, she began encountering problems with her instructor’s comments, primarily those that compared her work to her brothers. Despite trying her best, her work never seemed to stack up to Liam’s. While Marlene brushed most of it off her shoulders, there remained the nagging voice in the back of her head that continued to tell her she wasn’t good enough. Second year was when classes began to lose their appeal. Hogwarts was amazing, everything about it fascinated Marlene. She would much rather be wandering the halls than listening to an old woman drone on about the history of magic or muggle studies. So Marlene started to skip classes and spent more of her time socializing and exploring. She got away with it, for the most part, and with help from the other girls she was able to maintain decent grades.
Third year marked her fist kiss, if it could even be called that. They’d held a celebration party in the dorms and some kids from the other houses showed. A Hufflepuff boy from her brother’s year introduced her to flirting and left her with a kiss goodnight. While just a peck, she still counted it. As did her furious brother when he found out. That year also marked her first fight. Marlene previously met and tolerated students whose ideas contrasted to her own. However, when a Slytherin boy made a comment smearing her family’s reputation, it took Marlene all of two seconds to lose her happy-go-lucky demeanor and hex him bald. Sure, it was immature and irresponsible, but she couldn’t have cared less. The detention was worth it.
In her fifth year Marlene hit a low point. Her brother had graduated and gone on to work at the ministry, yet another success story for her parents to tell. Despite her underlying bitterness, the school took on an empty feeling without him. She’d been repairing her relationship with her family over the years and Liam’s departure felt like a step backwards. Her bright smile faded away and the spitfire of a girl became dull. To make things worse, stories of half-bloods and muggle-born families being attacked were increasing. It took several hot coca interventions from Mary, Doe, Alice and Lily to convince Marlene that they were her family too and would stay by her side, no matter how moody she became. Meanwhile, skipped classes began to show in her grades. Cheating was becoming more and more difficult and her professors advised her to shape up.
Despite the growing tension across the wizarding world, Marlene’s sixth year went by just like the rest. With her grades steadily dropping, she bought into whatever she could to ignore the problems in front of her: smoking, drinking, hooking up. By the end of the year, Marlene was scrambling to salvage the pieces of her future. The tension between bloods was getting harder to ignore and Marlene was itching to throw herself into the fray. By the time of graduation, Marlene decided that auror life wasn’t for her. Investigation and stealth were not areas Marlene exceeded in. Instead, she wanted to be a hit wizard, to deal with the more unsavory characters because if anyone was cut out for dirty work, it was her. She was accepted into training, barely and devoted herself to her work.
Marlene made her first kill when she was 21. Despite being in training, the group of hit wizards she was with ended up separating from each other and being ambushed by their bounty. With the command to immediately fall back if something went wrong, she found herself stuck in a duel with one of the criminals. After being injured severely, she spoke the killing curse for the first time before apparating away. From that day on, Marlene has found it hard to sleep. She constantly wakes up, jarred by nightmares of what she did and has been unable to get over a strange sense of guilt. Her friends pressured her for information, reminding her that they would always keep her secrets, protect them and carry some of the weight, but the last thing Marlene ever wanted was to be seen as weak. Instead, she jumped from bed to bed, seeking comfort in the arms of anyone willing to give it, or at least an illusion of solace. Although she’s stayed in training, she can’t unsee the flash of the killing curse when her eyes shut. 
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