#do i run over this liberal or do i drive around him

[frogmoisturethief]

[pinkiewinkdink]

I have to learn how to properly draw Todd cause I have this idea that is so funny to me and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, currently practicing on sticky notes at work

[cassidychronicle]

Do I get my life together or start drinking again??!?

[bullet-prooflove]

The Pool House: Alden Parker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @caffeinatedwoman @nbtfran @toheavenwmydrms

Companion piece to:

Pillow Talk - Alden realises he's a shitty husband.

Two Points For Honesty - Alden makes a confession about his time on the run with Viv.

Wild Flowers - You confront Viv about what happened with Alden.

The Duck Pond - You try to tell Alden how you're feeling.

WIshful Thinking - You realise Alden isn't coming home tonight.

Guilt - Alden realises he needs to confront his guilt.

You aren’t in the hotel suite when Alden arrives, he says suite because you upgraded yourself upon arrival, the concierge tells him. You’ve splashed out on a space with a view of the lake and a bathtub with the jacuzzi jets. All those couples activities you’d had booked have been cancelled, the money instead going towards the most expensive spa package the hotel has to offer.

Alden doesn’t even flinch when he was told the cost. In a way he’s glad that you’re thinking of yourself for a change. One of Alden’s main concerns has always been how much of yourself you give to other people, through your work and the marriage.  

“I’m guessing she slipped you an extra fifty so she could use the pool after hours.” He asks the concierge when he comes back down from dropping his stuff off.

It’s something you do at every place the two of you have stayed in the past because you enjoy the tranquillity of swimming at night. The concierge neither confirms or denies Alden’s assumption, he simply hands him a spare towel, leaving him to find his own way to his destination.

It’s dark when he steps inside the pool house. The low lights have been switched on so there’s a dim glow along the edges of the room. The pool is illuminated by the underwater bulbs set into the base of the structure. You’ve left your towel draped over one of the lounge chairs, along with a pair of flipflops and a robe.

His chest tightens when he catches sight of you. You’re wearing that navy blue bathing suit, the one he’s become intimately familiar with from your trips away. You're floating on your back in the azure water, your hair fanning around you like a halo, your eyes closed as the water carries you.

You look relaxed and Alden realises he hasn’t seen that in you in a while, not since before the Raven.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your peace so he sits on the lounger instead, listening to the dulcet lull of the water as it echoes through the pool house. The drive down here has left him feeling fatigued, it’s a symptom of the doubles he’s been pulling on this case, trying to get Viv out of your hair. He must fall asleep because he wakes up to the sensation of water splattering across his face and the sound of splashing.

He grabs the towel, wiping the droplets from his features before he finds himself meeting your gaze. You’re still in the pool, your arms resting on the tile that lines the edges as you stare up at him.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You tell him, using your palm to push your wet hair way from your face.

“I know.” He says quietly, looking down at the silver wedding band on his left hand. “There’s no excuse for my behaviour. I just...”

The words, they lock in his throat because there’s this other secret he’s been keeping from you since his time on the run and that’s where this guilt comes from, this horrible crippling feeling he feels every time he looks at you.

“Alden.” You say softly and his gaze flickers up to meet yours. “Get in the pool.”

“What?” He rasps, his eyes stinging.

“Just take your clothes off and get in the fucking pool.”

It’s the most commanding you’ve ever been with him and fuck if it doesn’t have him taking his clothes off in record time. The garments fall away until he stands in his underwear at the edge of the pool before diving straight in. That moment of impact, the rush of the water as it hits him before he surges up for air, it’s liberating.

You’re waiting for him when he breaks the surface, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a smile as he bobs in front of you, trying to catch his breath.

“Better?” You ask.

“Yea.” He whispers as your hands come to rest on his shoulders. His arms wrap around your waist holding you close as you float together in the darkness.

“You should tell me now.” You say, your fingertips linking at the nape of his neck, brushing over his damp hair. “That thing you’ve been hiding, you need to tell me because it’s killing us both.”

His forehead comes to rest upon yours, his breath catching. That feeling is back, that agonising sensation in his chest but he forces his way through it because you’re right, his guilt it’s murdering the marriage, it’s the seal on the box he’s trapping you in.

“The day they took Viv, it was meant to be you.” Alden tells you. “They knew you went swimming on Thursdays, that you like to go before the pool opens because the owner gave you a key. They were waiting in the parking lot for you but when you never arrived they moved onto Plan B.”

“I went to Norfolk that day…” You recall and his grasp on you tightens because if you hadn’t made that choice, you wouldn’t be here with him. “My witness worked in a diner, she could only do before the breakfast rush so I skipped swimming that day.”

“It saved your life.” He tells you, his thumb chasing over the apple of your cheek. “Lisa, he wasn’t just going to kill you, he was going to torture you. He was going to send the video to NCIS…”

Seeing that video it would have obliterated him. You know it, he knows it. The nightmares he has, they’re the real reason he’s been avoiding coming to bed with you. He sees the horror of what could have happened in his dreams, he feels the devastation as he listens to your laboured breathes and agonised cries. He feels the loss so fucking acutely that when he wakes up he’s clawing at the air, staving for oxygen.

“I think about it everytime I look at you.” He tells you, his voice breaking. “I see what that monster could have done to you because of me and it eats me alive Lisa.”

He chokes then and there you are holding him close, sheltering him from the storm that rises up deep inside him.

“Alden, you have been carrying this all alone for so long.” You say softly as you look into his pained eyes. “If you keep holding onto this, you’ll be doing more damage to yourself, to us. It’s time to let go now.”

“I want to Lisa.” He whispers as your nose trails along his until your lips are barely parted. “Christ I do, but I don’t know how.”

“I’ll help you.” You promise him, your lips brushing over his. “I won’t let you drown Alden, I'm going to make sure we get you some help.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[thatscarletflycatcher]

One of the advantages of engaging with old and old-ish media is the way it gives you perspective on the shifting of political discourse, and the current day weaponization of rage-bait by certain despicable pundits.

This week I had a pretty severe episode of dizziness and was basically bed-bound. On Wednesday I tried to watch the 1979 Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and I was understanding none of it, so I switched to Walker Texas Ranger because it showed up in my search, and I used to watch it when I was a kid and it was aired on open tv in my country.

I remembered it as being a very 'Murica, Traditional ValuesTM sort of show, and I don't think anyone would have ever called it a liberal device or anything like that. And yet as I was rewatching I couldn't help but think how many choices on this show would be framed by someone like Ben Shapiro if it was airing today. Cfr.

The main cast being composed of a biracial man, a woman, a black man and an indigenous man.

On the pilot, Walker bonds with a rape victim over trauma (his parents were murdered in front of him when he was a kid by drunken white supremacists)

The following episode Alex makes an impassioned speech about how hard it is to be a woman in her job, and how she cannot go into hiding or ask for special protection like others would because it would allow people to call into question her ability to do the job because she is a woman.

Later on a paralytic woman saves the day in a hostage situation and Walker and her briefly date

The following episode spins around dismantling a Christian cult

A few episodes later one of the main players is a young woman determined to see justice for her father, whom she is convinced was murdered and did not die on a drunken driving incident. Walker has a heart to heart conversation with his uncle about why he is attracted to determined, independent, stubborn women, and the conclusion is that they are very much worth engaging with because of those character traits.

That's 14 episodes into the series. And I don't think any of this was in any particular way considered as anything other than run-of-the-mill tropey stuff back when this aired, or as shoving politics down anyone's throats. Someone would say framing is everything, and tbh, it makes you think about the framing and codes rage-bait pundits use to reap engagement from audiences, and how it creates a vicious circle of radicalization (which ties back to what I was saying at the top of the post).

I don't know if I'm explaining well what I'm trying to say about people being radicalized into positions they would have not held 20 or 30 years ago, and how loud the most extremist positions are because of social media amplification, so, hm, try to be kind to this post XD

Another striking example is how tech is framed in the series. Walker, as the most Traditional Man's Man character is very dismissive of new tech, and thinks old fashioned police work remains the best. Trivett, a guy from Baltimore who is very fashionable and hip is all for adopting cutting-edge tech into their work. The series as a whole narratively sides with Walker time and time again. Which is a reminder that distrust of big tech was at the time uncontroversial in a traditional mindset. This right now is a strange innovation (yes, fascist governments like Franco's Spain were technocratic, but we are talking within the frame of the US ideological landscape).

These are my not very well organized thoughts on this, and I'm sharing them because I think it's worth thinking about.

[woongisi]

Gym Buddy // Seok Matthew

dom!Seok Matthew x sub!gn!Reader // SMUT

WC// 1.9k

Synopsis// You were no stranger to visiting your boyfriend to hang out while he did his workout routine. Some days, you fail to hide how watching him do so drives you absolutely crazy.

Warnings// degradation, facefucking, choking (on dick, reader receiving), minimal dubcon (reader is somewhat hesitant), blowjobs, sweat + scent kink

Author's Note// This quite literally came to me in a dream and changed my life. Absolutely wasn't into sweat or anything of the sort prior... also may have accidentally killed @gothlcsan !!!

---------

Situated in his little home gym, fashioned from an unfinished basement, you'd been spotting Matthew for a couple hours now. Perhaps your definition of “spotting” was liberal at best, but what mattered was you were with him while he worked out. You always had some great chatter when you came to visit. Listening to his stories, blasting music a bit too loud, and serving as his impromptu cheerleader.

These sessions always had an unfortunate side effect, which you tended to ignore, but your patience ran thin today. Watching Matthew do his sets in his tight white tee with sleeves rolled up and green basketball shorts that rested just above the knee always left you aching between your legs. Sometimes, you wondered if he forced his strained groans just to drive you up the wall.

Crawling off the leg press machine and stretching his arms above his head, Matthew had caught you staring off into space. Certainly not thinking about his strong arms around your waist when he’s pounding into you or anything of the sort.

“Hey, you ok?” Matthew leaned over to meet your eye level and cocked his head to the side.

Snapping out of your daze and in turn nearly toppling off the bench you were perched on, you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Uh… I'm fine. Just thinking about a couple things.”

Matthew popped a knowing smirk.

“You're blushing, you know.”

“Fine,” You started. “If you wanna play this game.”

Staring directly into his eyes and messing with the hem of his tee shirt, you spoke quite slowly and deliberately. “I… need you… to take your cock out.” You paused. “After you take a shower.”

Matthew huffed, pretending he couldn't feel the redness rising on his cheeks. Of course he knew how he bothered you but it wasn't common for you to be so direct.

“After I shower? That's no fun. You look like you're about to explode and you insist on waiting?”

Asshole.

The way you looked from his face to his bulge with furrowed brows was telling enough for Matthew to laugh at your neediness and take you into his arms. Telling you that's what he thought and pushing you to your knees once he replaced where you were previously sitting on the bench.

Part of you was still determined to act like this wasn't exactly what you wanted, glaring up at him with faux anger. Another part of you wasn't keen on having your face anywhere near his crotch when he'd just been sweating like crazy for two hours straight. The view of his chest outlined by his damp t-shirt and strong arms crossed over one another was enough to push your doubts to the side, at least mostly.

Matthew’s breathing was still heavy, his mouth hanging open, finding it harder to recover from his workout when he was now looking at you placed between his legs. Your hand slipped up beneath his shirt, running along his abs, but causing you to mentally cringe at the wetness his sweat created on your palm. You could feel his patience already running then, he had plenty of pent up energy left and the intensity his gaze held as it rested upon you was enough to convey it.

“Shirt.” You mumbled, prompting Matthew to pull his tee over his head, nearly tearing the thin white cotton in the process. God, he really was hot. The sheen of sweat accentuated the contour of his chest, his abs, and everything in between. The way you ogled at his figure simultaneously stroked his ego but fueled his impatience.

“That's enough. You wanted this so badly, yeah?” He growled and put one hand on the nape of your neck. Matthew pulled you forward, smushing your face against his groin cheek first which coated the side of your face in his sweat. Your startled gasp caused you to take in his scent in its entirety, sending an electric shock from your stomach straight to your groin.

“Matthew, that's f-fucking gross.” You whined and the way he flashed a pretty smile at you almost pissed you off.

“You're enjoying it, you slut.” His words were cruel in contrast to his expression but you had no rebuttal. As filthy and hot as he was, his natural smell was more intoxicating than you were willing to admit to yourself or to him.

Opting not to say another word, you licked a sloppy stripe along what of his cock you could reach while he held your head in place. Matthew's sigh of relief was music to your ears. “Good…” he muttered under his breath, removing his hand from your neck only after giving it a brief reassuring rub.

Placing your hands on the outside of both of his thighs, you breathed in his scent, rubbing your head against him while you kissed at the outline of his dick. He gradually hardened under your touch, throbbing under the soft fabric of his shorts that was slowly shifting from light green to dark, becoming wet with precum and your saliva.

Matthew’s soft pants filled the air, his breath catching each time you granted extra attention to his tip. You rubbed the expanse of his muscular upper thigh with one hand, using the other to fondle his sack through the fabric.

“Shit, baby,” His head dropped back against the wall. “So good to me, thank you.”

“You smell so good…” Your own words surprised you and your gasps against your lover made his head spin. He chided you for being so adamant about him showering which left your face burning with embarrassment. You aided Matthew in pulling off his shorts, his cock slapping against his stomach. You cupped his balls lightly and peered up to see the way he smiled down to you.

“Fuck, dude, you're so full.” You scolded yourself for calling your boyfriend such a name when his cock was right in front of your face. “When's the last time you jerked off?!”

“I haven't, sweetheart. Knew you were coming within a week.” He carded his fingers through your hair. “Thought I was gonna die, but now I'm thinking it was worth it.”

He’d even taken the time to trim his hair for you. The way you pulsed against your underwear quickly began to frustrate you, forcing yourself to remember that if you're patient you'll get exactly what you want. Wrapping your hand around the base of his length, you took one of his balls gently into your mouth.

“My poor boy must be so sore.” You feigned empathy between breaths. Lolling your tongue around him eagerly. You took careful note of what Matthew seemed to enjoy most. What made his hips shudder, fingers tighten their grip, and high moans fall from his lips. He seemed to particularly enjoy each time you gave his balls a light suck and tug. The weight of his sweaty dick in your hand felt so filthy yet only made you squirm more. You were well accustomed to his taste by now, finding the added salty flavor to be a bit jarring, but more exciting than anything.

Matthew tapped your shoulder a couple times, grabbing your attention.

“Babe, babe please~” He never needed to beg you for a thing but you didn't mind this desperation. “Need my cock down your throat. Missed those pretty lil’ lips around me so badly.”

“Hmm…” You pretended to ponder his request, knowing full well you've been craving exactly that. “Since you did so well keeping your hands off yourself I’ll reward you. You can use me, as hard as you want.”

Matthew's face lit up, thanking you profusely for treating him so well. You stuck your tongue out, allowing him to place the end of his cock on it once he stood up and positioned himself in front of you. He gathered a ball of spit in his mouth, leaning over so that he could let it dribble down onto himself. Your lips closed around him, Matthew harshly grabbed a fistful of your hair, lending his free hand to brace your cheek.

“Deep breaths, baby, tell me if it's too much.” He started carefully at first, pumping in and out until you were accustomed enough for him to completely bottom out. Matthew’s hips bucked forward unintentionally once he hit the back of your throat, feeling you gag against him. He was girthy, so weighty on your tongue and adorned with prominent veins. As soon as you gave his thigh a reassuring stroke, Matthew thrusted into your wet mouth harshly.

You relaxed your throat, allowing him to fuck into you with ease. Your nails dug into the flesh of his thighs, leaving crescent moon marks in their wake and making Matthew’s cock twitch. He picked up the pace, holding your head in place as repeatedly bottomed out.

His hips connected with your face haphazardly with every thrust of your hips. Each time you choked on him sent shockwaves throughout your whole body. In the moment, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck to his hearts content and it made want to melt.

Pulling out to allow you to breathe for a moment, you coughed harshly with your chest heaving. Tears rolled down your cheeks in steady rivulets. Allotting you little time to prepare, Matthew shoved his entire length down your throat, letting out a strangled moan when your muscles clenched down hard around him. You scarcely had any time to take in air, feeling dizzy and painfully turned on while Matthew abused your throat for all it was worth.

Thick strings of your saliva and Matthew’s leaking precum created a lewd visual of a hot sticky mess on your face and the base of his dick.

“Such a good fucking toy for me,” Matthew spat. “Taking my cock so well like the worthless piece of meat you are.”

It was rare for him to be so harsh to you, so degrading and so cruel. It only served to deepen the building coil in your stomach. You were lightheaded, eyes rolling back in your head at the lack of oxygen.

“Just a little longer, know you can take it. Be good for me, alright?” You weren't sure you truly could handle more without losing consciousness but the resounding moans and strings of curses falling from Matthew's mouth had you determined to stick it out.

Suddenly, Matthew buried himself deep in your throat and forced your head to keep in place. White hot ropes of his cum gushed down your throat, choking you in the process for what felt like forever. He tasted so good, so mouthwatering, you wondered briefly if he'd been changing his diet just for this too. Once he pulled out, you sputtered out whatever of his seed hadn't made it completely down your throat. Your chest was heaving, fresh air relieving the burning in your lungs. Your legs were trembling, heart slamming against your chest, shakily moaning as you recovered.

Matthew took your hand into his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze and caringly stroking your hair.

“Are you alright, love?” He pouted with a tinge of worry. “Was I too rough?”

You shook your head eagerly. “S-So good, Matt, so fuckin good.”

He helped bring you up on to the bench, peppering kisses across your face. “You did so well for me, my favorite little slut.”

“Matthew…” Your eyes set heavy with lust, intensely staring at your lover while taking in his scent that had only increased.

“Hm?”

“Need you in me. Now. Think I might lose my mind without it.”

“Shit, after what you just did? How could I ever deny you?”

Maybe you'd have to visit his gym more often.

[jfkonfucius]

Do I run over this liberal or drive around him? What do you think? I don't know. Think about the gas prices

[abiiors]

need a blurb about princess treatment ross please 🥲

i think headcanons is the best way i can do this, so that's what i'm going to write (smut under the dotted line)

♡ you were sure the initial princess treatment would wear off as soon as you're out of the honeymoon phase. it makes sense this way — that he would open doors wherever you go and follow the sidewalk rule, that he would pull out chairs and show up to each date with a giant bunch of your favourite flowers. it makes sense that he would do it in the first, second, third month of your relationship. maybe even the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. but beyond that? you would have thought it would fizzle out into something ordinary. ross, however, shows absolutely no signs of stopping or slowing down.

♡ for your six month anniversary, you decide to go all out — a fancy rooftop restaurant with a great candlelit dinner on a night that just warm enough. and there you are, getting ready in his house, in front of his mirror when ross shows up behind you, gently pushing your hair aside so he can zip up the dress for you. his knuckles drag up your spine, spread tingles all over your body until you're leaning against him practically liquid in his arms.

♡ “look at you, princess. so beautiful…” his voice has a rough edge to it, leaving you breathless.

♡ and you gasp when he kneels in front of you, right as you're about to leave and proceeds to put your heels on for you, smiling until his eyes crinkle. "i know it's difficult to put them on with your nails, baby. let me do it for you." which obviously leaves you blushing deeply. "i would have been fine," you bite your lip, flustered. ross clicks his tongue though. "don't have to worry about a thing, sweet girl. i'm here to take care of you."

♡ it's not just limited to the big occasions though. ross has made it his mission to make sure you don't have to worry about the smallest of things.

♡ this includes but is not limited to — having an extra scrunchie around his wrist. carrying pads and tampons in his bag. holding your bag(s) in one hand so he can hold your hand in the other, especially while crossing the street (he needs to make sure his girl is safe).

♡ need to go out and ross is free? don't even think about driving, he's going to offer to drive you around even if it's just running random errands. he's going to play all your favourite songs and get you a little sweet treat for the road. he's going to have his hand on your thigh the whole time, drawing little circles and other random shapes. all you have to do is be a passenger princess and tell him where to go.

♡ if something does go wrong though, you know you can go running to him and he'll help you figure out whatever it is you need help with. he's a good listener — he won't give his opinions or unsolicited advice until you're done venting about whatever it is that's bothering you.

♡ one of your favourite things is to be taken care of after particularly long, tiring, stressful days. ross is liberal with hugs and forehead kisses, wrapping you up in his arms so you can squish your face in his chest and just breathe him in. it's safe and calm and comforting. it's home.

♡ he'll play with your hair for as long as you want. he'll run you a bath and give you massages and pamper days. anything to make sure his girl isn't as stressed anymore.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

♡ some of your absolute favourite moments happens between the sheets, ross hovering over you, his gold chain grazing against your skin. he smiles and holds your hips, tries to get you to stop squirming. but how can you when his mouth is hot on your skin and his beard tickles your tits and stomach and the insides of your thighs.

♡ "my pretty little princess, my sweetest girl," he smiles, looking at you from between your legs, tongue flicking around your clit. it's ecstasy, it's heaven.

♡ ross hates quickies. he won't cum unless he's made you cum at least twice and that's just not possible in five minutes. still, if you jump on him backstage, kissing him and slipping your tongue inside his mouth, he takes the hint. he'll make up for it later that night though. you best believe you will be overstimulated for hours and hours after.

♡ he's very thorough with the aftercare too — all you have to do is lie there while he cleans you up, fingers flicking through the cum on the insides of your thighs until the oversensitivity makes you hiss. he'll smile looking a little guilty and give you a little kiss to make up for it.

♡ an absolute sweetheart!! ross loves falling asleep with you in his arms. and it's the best feeling in the world. he's always just the right amount of warm and his t-shirts always perfectly soft. every night when you fall asleep, you can't help but thank all your lucky stars <3

[bluartist]

Do I Run Over This Liberal Or Do I Drive Around Him What Do You Think

[diino8081]

frozen liberation au

THE BEGINNING

chapter 1 - old version

(chapter list)

content warnings for character death and blood

the ice emperor groans as he clutches his head, memories flowing through him like a bullet. he can see someone in green standing at the bottom of the stairs, vex in front of him.

"my emperor," he says, turning to face him. "are you alright?"

he shakily takes off his helmet, carefully putting it on the throne behind him, his breathing quick. "v-vex i--"

a shout from the bottom of the stairs. "zane!"

is that... lloyd?

"get away from him!"

there is a blur of green as the two seem to fight. his head aches, still flashing with memories. the clashing of weaponry does nothing to help.

too much noise.

he walks down the stairs, veering towards a hallway on the left. he looks over his shoulder, tensing at the sight of the battle.

the formling looks at him.

he runs.

he retreats to one of the rooms of the palace, trying to cope with the two lifetimes he's now quickly starting to remember. his old bedroom, he recalls. he'd eventually stopped using it at some point.

the armour he wears feels heavier, claustrophobic. he sheds it, placing it on the ground with a clink.

he remembers a ship, the bounty. his father. pixal, the ninja. wu. he remembers his sacrifice and how he died to kill the overlord. how kai and nya would always compete with each other over the smallest of things.

he remembers ghosts and skeletons and oni. how cole would share music with him. how jay defeated him a million times playing videogames and the one time he got him back. how he, pixal and lloyd celebrated after stopping a hostage situation during one of their missions.

but he's not that nindroid anymore. his grip tightens on the staff.

but there's something else.

he remembers backing up his systems. a reflection in the ice around him. his eyes widen in realisation.

there's a knock. he turns to see vex at the door. "my emperor, there you are."

"don't call me that."

"but it's who you are."

"i said don't, vex." he points the blade towards the former advisor. "we may have been friends before, but i know better now. and i will not hesitate to kill you where you stand."

vex's expression turns sour as he steps back. "so what, are you now calling yourself 'zane' like what that intruder called you?" he spits.

his grip on the weapon falters. he looks away. "it's... the better option." ugh, he still feels horrible for tainting that name with his actions.

"you don't sound so sure. let me help you." he grins. "do you want the throne back? to exterminate the last of those vermin? i can get you what you wa--"

zane drives the blade forward, hitting flesh. something wet hits his cheek. he looks down to see the metal having pierced through vex's torso, blood leaking freely from the wound. his face flashes to concern and then fear.

the weapon feels heavy in his hands. what has he done?

so yeah that's it that's part one of the beginning

i am considering putting this on ao3, i have a more refined (yet currently incomplete) version of this written out that i may put there in future

i think though i'm gonna just try this format for now and then when it's at a good point then i'll throw it on in there

but yeah i hope you all enjoyed, any and all comments are appreciated

thank you for reading

CHAPTER SELECT

+ masterlist

> next

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Sketch of Redemption-era Eliot Spencer lying on the floor on his back with his back arched and neck muscles tensed, grimacing as a collar around his neck lights up, giving him an electric shock. End ID]

-

Day 8: alt. Electrocution

Eliot being tortured with a shock collar as a cheeky little bonus for Day 8

Ficlet below the cut

“Move and we shoot.”

The voice was nearly as cold as the barrel of the gun pressed against Harry’s head.

Eliot froze.

He was several metres away, where he had guided the fight to keep Harry out of it.

And now he was too far away to get to him, to do his thing and make this guy with a gun go away.

“Frank,” Eliot didn’t growl, but his voice was hard and even more threatening than this Frank guy with a gun’s was, “Let ‘im go.”

“You don’t get to make demands here, Spencer,” Frank replied, “Now stay still.  You know I won’t hesitate.”

Eliot glared, but he obeyed, staying perfectly motionless with his eyes on Harry.

Of the four other goons who had attacked them, two were unconscious, and one had blood pouring liberally from his nose. The remaining one, apparently following some signal from this Frank guy, moved closer to Eliot, smirking when his adversary did nothing but glare.

"Right ear," Frank said, "Comm unit. Take it out and smash it."

The gun shoved against Harry's head.

"You too, Wilson."

Harry slowly raised his hand, extracted the earbud and held it out. Frank took it, dropped it, and stamped, presumably crushing the comm as thoroughly as the other hitter had crushed Eliot's a short distance away.

"Phone," Frank demanded, and as he accepted Harry's phone, instructed his colleague, "Check him for phone and weapons. Spencer usually has a knife or two stashed somewhere."

And Eliot did.

As Harry watched, still held in place by the gun to his head, the other hitter retrieved a pocket knife, a multitool and too throwing knives from Eliot, as well as his phone. He tossed all this away, shot the phone with a loud crack that made Harry jump and Frank laugh.

By now, one of the others had woken up and the nosebleed of the other guy had been stemmed enough for him to get involved, which he did with evident relish.

"Get the collar on him," Frank ordered, the hand not holding the gun coming to grip Harry's arm, twisting it up behind him, "Watch closely, Wilson. This is the fun bit."

As if Harry had a choice but to watch.

Eliot remained fixed in place, his attention on Frank and Harry, as two of the other men roughly fixed a rigid collar around his neck, yanking his hair out the way and making a point of briefly choking him as they pulled the contraption on. And, it was a contraption. Not just a collar. There was a box on one side of it with a little red light.

Smacking Eliot unnecessarily on the back of the head as they finished, the other hitters stepped back, one pulled out his phone, and then, suddenly, Eliot tensed, teeth gritting, and dropped to his knees, as the collar light turned blue.

Harry instinctively made a move like he might run forward, try to help, but the grip on his arm grew tighter and more painful and the gun knocked against his head.

"Shock collar," Frank said with a smile as the light turned red and Eliot was left breathing heavily on the floor, "Made special just for Spencer."

The light went on again, longer, bringing Eliot all the way to the floor.

"Do exactly as your told, or we'll see how long it takes for that thing to kill him."

With those words, the gun was removed, but almost immediately, there was darkness. A rough, imperfect, darkness. A bag thrown over his head, and two strong forms on either side were half-dragging Harry away.

Out of the building, into a vehicle, the same guys who had been dragging him pressed close on either side.

They didn't drive for very long - not more than an hour, but long enough and with enough turns that it wouldn't be easy for the others to track them from their last location. And they had to be on the way by now. Hardison and Breanna would have used the earbud GPS before they were destroyed, or maybe be tracking their phones.

There would be a Brick and Basil truck en route to where they had just been, and hopefully soon after to wherever they were going now.

When they finally stopped, Harry was manhandled once more, bringing him across a hard floor, into another building, an elevator, and then, at last, into a wooden chair.

The bag was whipped off, and across from him, behind a large, fake mahogany desk, was a man he knew perfectly well.

"Austin," Harry greeted, adopting the false pleasantry he always did with clients, "I'd love to say it was a pleasure, but..."

He nodded to the goons stood either side, taking that motion as a chance to look for Eliot.

Not in this room. A small office with two doors, the desk, some chairs, a mini fridge, and a large conference TV screen.

A bit of a downgrade from this former client's upmarket business address with its tropical fish tank and wet bar.

"Harry Wilson," the man smiled coldly, "You're a hard man to find."

Harry shrugged noncommittally, "What do you want, Austin?"

"I need you to do a job for me. I have a certain legal matter that needs taking care of, and the lawyer I had hired is, quite frankly, not worth the air he breaths. I need you to make an airtight case for me and present it in court," he pushed a pile of documents across the desk, "Everything you need is here. You have three days. This office..."

"No," Harry cut him off. He had worked for this guy before. He had helped him cover his tracks after he destroyed the lives of several of his workers and interns, leading to the suicide of one. This man was one of the long list of regrets burdening Harry's mind. He was two bullet points on the redemption list.

Harry would not work for him again.

"I expected you may say that," Austin stood, walked around the desk towards the screen. The goons rotated Harry's chair, forcing him to turn to watch.

"That's why I have invested in this incentive."

He used a small remote to turn the screen on, and after a second of blackness, a video feed was displayed, showing Eliot with his hands handcuffed to a metal loop fixed to the floor. It looked like a basement, but it was difficult to tell.

Austin pulled out his phone, and a few seconds later, that collar glowed blue again, electrocuting Eliot as he knelt chained to the floor.

And not just a short warning. It didn't stop. Austin wasn't going to stop unless-

"Okay!" Harry yelled, and the collar turned red, leaving Eliot unmoving on the floor, "Okay. I'll do it."

Austin smiled, "Good man. Now, as I was saying, those are the files. There's paper, pens and so on in the desk drawers. Water and food in the fridge. Bathroom through that door. You have three days."

He moved towards the door, the goons following.

"Oh, and if you fail to deliver..."

On the screen, Eliot was subjected to another shock, his body tensing, but nothing more. Harry wasn't even sure he was conscious.

"These gentlemen," Austin nodded to the goons, "Will wait outside. Their colleagues will be with Spencer."

He left, the door was locked, and the screen was left turned on, Eliot still not moving.

Harry spent about an hour searching the office and bathroom for anything that could be useful to escape. Weapons, air vent...anything.

But, predictably, there was nothing. And, even if there had been something, if Harry made an attempt, there were still those other hitters with Eliot, and no way Harry could get there in time to save him.

Harry was just going to have to play along for now. Get to work, start building a case...as a last resort, he would do what Austin asked. He would pull out all the past evil lawyer tricks, hopefully then get Eliot and himself back to safety, and Leverage could deal with the aftermath.

But that was a worst case.

Hardison, Breanna, Parker and Sophie would definitely find them before that. They had three days, and a collective set of skills beyond anything Harry had known or imagined before meeting them.

Three days was more than enough time for Leverage to track people down.

Harry kept this in mind as he spent the first day, working at the case, trying to ignore the itching of his conscience.

There was one moment, towards the end of that day, that robbed Harry of all his forced focus.

He hadn’t expected to see Eliot being treated well, but without cause - Harry had been doing as he had been told - two of the hitters from before had entered the room to amuse themselves.

Harry had no way to contact anyone. He couldn’t get to Austin to convince him to make them stop, refusing to work unless they did. But he didn’t really have the leverage. They were hurting Eliot, but not killing him, and it was within Austin’s power to let them do so.

Harry watched until the hitters disappeared from view and Eliot was left unconscious on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head from the repeated blows they’d delivered to his face.

And, facing the screen so he could see when Eliot woke up, Harry turned on the desk lamp and resumed the arduous task of figuring out how to help the rich and powerful crush those they had wronged.

He had no awareness of falling asleep. At some point, near midnight, he lay his head on his arms, just to try and let his eyes rest…just a bit.

He woke to a hand on his shoulder, a whispered voice in his ear.

“Harry.”

It was Eliot, crouched beside his chair, watching him with evident concern.

The collar was still on, and in places it was shining with blood that seemed to come from Eliot's lip and cheek. The handcuffs were on, but the chain between them broken, links draping on Harry’s shoulder.

"Harry," he repeated as Harry was still registering the situation and deciding whether or not it was a dream, "You alright?"

The hand on his arm was very real. Strong and familiar. And Harry probably couldn't accurately dream the fine details of the collar that he could see now up close.

Harry broke into a smile, "Better now. You're a good person to be kidnapped with."

That drew a small laugh from the hitter, his teeth showing bloody, "Ain't my first rodeo. You good to go?”

Harry nodded and quickly began gathering up all the documents on the case - it could come in handy later.

“What’s that?” Eliot nodded to the folder.

“The reason we’re here,” Harry replied, “And better off in our hands than his.”

“Former client?”

Harry wasn’t sure how Eliot knew, but they didn’t really have time to get into that, so he just nodded and followed Eliot towards the door.

"We have an exit?"

"We're gonna make one."

"What about..."

The collar.

Eliot had stood and moved to the door already, was looking out into the corridor.

"Looks like only some of the guards can set it off," Eliot replied quietly, "Took out the four who grabbed us. Hopefully we don' run into any others, but if we do..."

He paused, looking back at Harry.

"If we do an' I'm incapacitated, you gotta run."

"I can't just leave..."

"Yeah you can," Eliot tapped his arm and moved towards the door, not allowing any further arguments.

Harry followed closely, trusting Eliot to know when to freeze and when to move, and they managed to get into a stairwell without meeting any guards. Their luck ended there, but only for a moment or two. Only for as long as it took for Eliot to disarm and knock out the three guards they met as they moved down ten flights of stairs, and out into a carport.

No one there. Cameras, but no people, and no cars.

"What now?" Harry whispered, "You know where we are?"

"No. We gotta get somewhere crowded. Somewhere with people," Eliot replied, "We can lift a phone an' call the others."

"I don't think we need to," Harry smiled as he saw a familiar set of headlights approaching from the other direction. Eliot turned and broke into his own smile, bloody toothed, but just as relieved as Harry's.

As if summoned by willpower alone, a Brick and Basil truck stopped just outside the building. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if there had been some sort of planned dramatic entrance that culminated in such a welcome and timely appearance.

But they didn’t exit immediately in a dramatic, heroic manner. They were still inside the truck, probably planning their entrance, hadn't seen Harry and Eliot, based on the various screams, gasps, and almost punch that were thrown their way when Eliot opened the back doors.

"And here we busted our asses trying to get here quick as hell," Hardison complained teasingly, grabbing Eliot into a hug as they entered, "Coulda stayed in bed."

"Everyone okay?" Sophie asked, looking them both over, "Breanna? Can we get whatever that is off Eliot?"

"On it..." she immediately began inspecting the collar, while Parker picked the handcuffs, muttering something about more lock picking practice, and keeping hold of Eliot's hand for longer than necessary.

Harry was grateful for the cup of coffee Sophie produced and shoved into his hands, ushering him into the front with her so Hardison could set off driving, getting them the hell out of there.

"Who took you?" she asked.

"Former client," Harry said, drinking the coffee down more quickly than he should, "Wanted me to do a case for him, and used Eliot as leverage."

"Someone we need to take out?" Hardison asked.

Harry considered.

The court case would probably lead to twenty five years in jail if Austin lost...the man was practically already taken out as it was. Provided he lost the case. Harry knew who the prosecution team were, he knew the case, he had more than enough information in the folder alone…

Harry smiled, "I think I will take him out myself."

And he would make sure the team, especially Eliot, were at the trial. After all, they needed The Gloat.

-

[marshmallowprotection]

One thing I noticed when looking at Minji's information is that even though she had a relatively quiet life, she was still made fun of at school for her height. I'd like to know how he overcame that. as a person who has been a victim of bullying, both physically and emotionally. I would like to know how he managed to get ahead. I personally admire Minji for that. It is not easy to repair the damage caused by attackers. (if it bothers you please ignore this)

Absolutely! Minji has lived a quiet and easy-going life for the most part, and I'd say her experience is comparable to Yoosung's. There's never been a situation where she's had no choice but to grow up as fast as she can to take care of herself. She's never had to worry for much of anything, and while she's not rich like Jumin or V, she has always had what she needed and she's content with that. A mother, father, a few younger siblings, and a dream of making others happy has always been her driving passion.

The only difficulty she's ever faced is some mild bullying when she began to grow taller than her classmates at an easy age. Mind you, she's 5'10" or (177.8CM). Most of the bullying she faced was during middle school! She was taller than most of the boys her age, and it made her stick out like a sore thumb. It was easy to feel down about it because the people who teased her made her feel like she would never be able to be in a relationship because no guy would want to date a girl as tall as she was.

There was a time when she wanted to be shorter, much shorter than she is, because she was afraid if she wasn't "dainty", she'd never find love. She would try to hunch over when she walked around but that never made the bullying much better since they would taunt her even more. It wasn't constant... but it happened enough that she began to dislike her height. Minji has always been a kind girl, so even when so many of her classmates teased her, she still tried to be kind to them in the hopes that they would look in the mirror and realize they were being cruel for no reason.

But, she began to overcome some of these feelings about herself when she joined the track and field team in high school! Her legs proved to be a great asset on the field. She could make long strides without any trouble, and she discovered that running made her feel good! Being able to sprint down the field made her feel free, and the sensation of the wind in her hair as she held her head toward the sky felt liberating. She spent so long looking down that she didn't realize she could look up!

It's better to live in the moment and enjoy yourself than to try to fit into some idealized beauty standard that could change at any time. She would rather run and admire the sky than try to make herself small for someone else's consumption.

Don't get me wrong, that insecurity chipped away at her for a long time despite the confidence she began to grow, and it sat in the back of her chest when she met her partners. Years of hard work seemed to hesitate when she met someone she liked who wasn't taller than her. Minji is taller than Saeyoung since he's 5'9" or (175CM), but that's not as significant as the difference between her and Judas. He's 5'5" or (165CM)!

She met Judas first. She had to take a different path home after work one night, and it took her to a part of town that wasn't safe. He took one look at her and offered to escort her home, and she took him up on that. Just because she's tall doesn't mean she feels safe at night! She felt at ease with him... his warm smile, the way he didn't gawk at her... oh, she wanted to see him again. But, he couldn't see her again. He was forced to sell himself to the agency not long after that to NOT be killed by his ex-boyfriend's goons.

And then she stumbled into the apartment after being tricked by a pretty girl who didn't know what to do with a lost cell phone... where she fell fast and hard for Saeyoung... without realizing Judas was at his side until Unknown stormed the apartment. They didn't mention her height, nor did they make her feel uncomfortable. They treated her the way she always wanted to be treated... and you know what, they can easily sweep her off her feet. She's not "too tall" to be loved by someone!

Her boys love her just the way she is, and she loves them.

[cowboythighs]

thinking of steve driving miles and miles out of town to the nearest adult store to covertly purchase some toys and videos and not realizing until after he’s skulked around the empty store for far longer than he needed to that the cashier was eddie ‘the freak’ munson.

he nearly drops everything to make a run for it, not exactly keen on being seen in a sex shop, but then Eddie’s looking right at him and the damage has already been done- if Eddie was going to ruin his reputation, Steve figured he might as well get something out of it.

So he takes his selection up to the counter and tries his hardest not to make eye contact- holds out hope that maybe Eddie didn’t recognize him. After all, it’s not like they really knew each other. His face burns as Eddie inspects each item he’s picked out.

“Is this for you or a friend?” Eddie asks holding up the bright pink ‘Rabbit Pearl’. When steve doesn’t manage an intelligible reply, Eddie clarifies “If this is for you-or anyone without a clit- I’m pretty sure I can find you something better.”

Before he can protest, Eddie’s stepping out from behind the counter expecting Steve to follow. Asking him about what he’s looking for in a vibrator like he’s selling Steve a car. holding up item after item, explaining pros and cons not even really waiting for Steve’s replies- just reading the expressions on Steve’s face as if that’s sufficient to determine what he’ll like. He asks Steve how much money he’s looking to spend and takes his shrug as an invitation to pick out a few more toys he thinks Steve will like.

“You really don’t need to do this” Steve manages to spit out while Eddie is bent over a selection of vhs tapes.

“It’s no problem, man,” Eddie waves him off. “My pleasure.”

And god if that doesn’t go right through Steve. Having someone (excitedly) picking out all the tools he’s going to use to get himself off later. It felt a little like being taken care of. He’s not used to it; it makes something burn hit in his gut. He’s embarrassed; he thinks he likes it.

When Eddie was satisfied with his selection he went back to the register, Steve trailing behind. nearly dying of embarrassment when Eddie slid one of the vibrators out of its package, popped batteries in, and handed it to Steve.

Eddie read the question on Steve’s confused face. “You have to make sure it works. No returns. Store policy.”

Steve wondered if it was really policy to make customers turn on vibrators in front of the clerk, or if Eddie just wanted to make him squirm. He didnt think he minded if it was the latter.

“Go on,” Eddie encouraged. “Turn it on.”

Steves hands shook with nerves, but he managed to turn the knob at the bottom of the toy and nearly dropped it as it buzzed to life.

“Right on.” Eddie took the toy back, turning it off and placing it back in its packaging. Hands Steve the next toy to test.

Eddie acts professional as he guides Steve through a selection of lubes and cleaners in a way that made it feel more like a doctor giving out a prescription; take this amount and apply liberally and let set for 60 seconds before washing clean to properly disinfect. It would almost be boring, if Steve wasn’t so turned on seeing the toys he was going to use to get off in Eddie’s big hands while he showed Steve the best way to clean them.

Finally (finally) Eddie rings Steve up and slips the receipt into a bag far more full than Steve had anticipated. He waves Steve off with a suggestive “Have a good night!” as Steve all but runs out of the store.

Back in his car, Steve’s heart felt like it was about to hammer out of his chest from the thrill of it all, but it was nothing compared to the pace it set when he noticed the phone number written on the back of his receipt with a note-

“if you have any questions give me a call, king steve ;)

-your friendly neighborhood freak xx”

[pysankywrites-updates]

a few snippets to prove i’m still alive and working on things😭

Rowing comp fic (third-year-things):

Wilhelm was obviously unhappy during rowing practice, having been relegated to a chair in the literal corner while watching the rest of them run drills. At the start of practice, he had tried to join in; however, every single person on the team had quickly vetoed this and Simon’s stern look in his direction had apparently been enough to make him sit his ass right back down.

Now though, there was a frown on his face and his arms were crossed as he sat there, looking bored out of his mind. The only thing saving him from complete boredom was the whistle around his neck, which he was using liberally. It was mostly to correct the first-years, but after the sixth time in ten minutes, Simon was this close to ripping that whistle right out of his mouth. Walter and Henry both looked the same.

“If he blows that whistle one more time…,” Henry muttered under his breath. Simon didn’t hear the rest of what he said, but he didn’t need to. The other’s tone was enough explanation.

For the first time in a while, Walter agreed with him and for just a few minutes they were back in sync like they used to be.

Simon glanced over at his boyfriend to find the other running a hand over his face and then through his hair, messing it up. He looked frustrated and Simon knew it was driving him crazy to not be able to participate. He couldn’t help but think back to first-year Wilhelm who was sometimes more than happy to avoid practice if he could.

Practice ended not long after that, with Wilhelm only having blown the whistle two more times. Each time, Henry had twitched, his hands wrapping more tightly around the ERG handle until his knuckles were white. Walter simply had his eyes closed, forehead resting on his knees.

Everyone was quick to retreat to the locker room, obviously trying to escape from under Wilhelm’s tyranny with the whistle, until it was just him and Simon left in the gym.

“Having fun?” Simon asked drily, using the hem of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off of his brow. Wilhelm gave him a look back, fiddling with the whistle. When he raised it up to his lips, Simon reached out with a dry laugh and snatched it away. “Yeah, no, I’m confiscating this, you tyrant.”

“How dare you? I’m stuck here in a chair, unable to do anything except rot and you would take away the one thing that has brought me joy—.”

Simon put the whistle in his own mouth and blew it, cutting the other off and then arching a brow at him in response to the mock affronted look sent his way. Then, only because there was no one else in the gym except for them, he pulled the whistle out of his mouth and said quietly, “I can think of a better way for you to use your mouth.”

Wilhelm looked back at him, eyes like honey. “Yeah?”

Simon nodded, his lips curling in the corners. He fiddled with the whistle. “Yeah.”

the (eventual) Walty fic (third-year-things):

The flame of the lighter flickered as Henry held it up, waving it beneath the end of the joint where it was held between his lips. After it eventually caught and the tip began to burn a dark orange, he inhaled deeply, the smoke burning his throat slightly.

“What are you thinking about?” Walter asked from where he sat beside him, watching and waiting for Henry to pass over the now-lit joint.

They had enough to each have their own, but Henry had always (selfishly) asked if they could just share one. At first, it had been because he wanted to keep as much as he could (and because he hadn’t been taught to share as a child if they were being honest), but then it had become because he wanted to keep Walter as close as he could. It was more intimate too in a way, passing the joint back and forth and even sharing kisses in between sometimes when no one was really around or when everyone else was too drunk to think much about it.

Tonight, they were alone though, sitting out on the rickety fire-escape of Forest Ridge and pretending that the rest of the world didn’t exist for a little while.

“That you have something in your hair,” was Henry’s answer to the question after exhaling and passing the joint over.

Walter’s hand flew up to run through his dark brown hair, and when he came away with nothing, he gave him an unamused look. “Really, Henry?”

He grinned at him and then leaned closer to run his fingers through his best friend’s hair, fixing some strands and displacing others. Walter’s hair was one of his favorite things ever. It was so soft and it always felt so good whenever he got to run his fingers through it.

“Honestly, I was really just thinking about whether or not Wille and Simon are in their room right now,” he admitted after a moment, still running his fingers through the other’s hair.

Walter coughed. “Why?”

“Because Simon keeps that closet stocked with snacks.”

This time, Walter sounded amused. “There’s no way you’re already hungry.”

Playfully, Henry shoved him and the other swayed away only to sway right back into him. Walter’s head settled gently on Henry’s shoulder, a careful weight even as the other leaned against him heavily. It was cautious and yet comfortable at the same time, probably because they were both so used to having to hide affection like this.

Clearing his throat and taking the joint back from the other, he said, “I’m always hungry.”

Walter hummed into the silence and Henry just inhaled deeply, staring out into the darkness of the late summer night around them.

Neither of them said anything more on the matter, but his mind played the words over and over. It was true. He was always hungry, but normally it was for the affection that Walter so easily showed him when they were alone or within the safety of their friend group. He was always hungry for the soft way the other smiled, the way that he cared for him, the way that he…. Just, the way that he was, the way that the two of them worked together so well. The way that Walter just understood.

Walter turned his head to face him, wide dark eyes looking up at him as he silently asked to take a hit, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean down and kiss him as he handed the joint over. The other’s lips were soft, slightly chapped like they always were from the way he anxiously chewed at them and never put on chapstick no matter how much Henry left lying around their room for him. They felt like heaven, but maybe that was just the weed speaking.

“Do you think Simon still has some of those crisps that he got from Bjärstad last time?” was the first thing his best friend asked him when they pulled apart and Henry smiled down at him, taking a hit from the joint and carefully blowing the smoke off to the side.

Pushing himself to his feet, he swayed slightly and the two of them broke out into giggles, the weed obviously finally starting to take effect and god, he wished he could capture the way that Walter’s eyes were shining as he looked up at him from where he still sat, legs dangling over the edge of the fire escape.

Stubbing the joint out on the railing and tucking it behind his ear, Henry held out both hands. “Let’s go see.”

Walter smiled up at him as he took both hands in his.

ineffable (that random good omens au):

Squinting up at the darkening sky, Wilhelm considered the clouds and decided that he already wasn’t a fan of this new thing called “rain” that the Almighty had decided to try out. Nothing against the Almighty of course, they could never do anything wrong. He just had a feeling about this, and it wasn’t necessarily a good one.

Mostly because he felt like it was going to end with his wings getting wet, and they were always such a pain to deal with when wet.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

Releasing his lip from where he’d started to anxiously chew at it, Wilhelm turned around to find the snake from earlier standing beside him. Or, well, it had been a snake, now it was a demon.

Caught slightly off-guard, Wilhelm coughed. “Excuse me?”

The demon looked over at him, golden eyes curious. On his right temple, there was the small tattoo of a serpent, but it was almost completely hidden by his mess of dark curls. The twist of his lips into a small frown pulled Wilhelm’s attention away from the tattoo though, and when he sighed Wilhelm couldn’t get the sound out of his head.

“I said that that didn’t exactly go as planned.” The demon gestured vaguely toward the garden behind them. “In fact, it went down like a lead balloon.”

Wilhelm stared at him. “What do you mean? Weren’t you supposed to tempt them?”

The demon shrugged, all loose, casual lines. “I mean, yeah, but I really just wanted an orange. How was I supposed to know that there wouldn’t be any oranges here, in a garden, and just forbidden apples apparently?”

Wilhelm blinked and kept staring at him.

The demon flushed. “I mean, come on, it’s a garden. It’s, like, the garden. Is it too much to ask for an orange? It’s not as if they have them in Hell.”

This last part was muttered quietly, as if the other didn’t want him to hear it, and Wilhelm felt a pang of sympathy go through him. He quickly squashed it though. Feelings like that had almost gotten him in serious trouble last time and he didn’t want Kristina, or Erik, or even August to be on his ass about that again.

So, clearing his throat, he said, “Well, you still tempted them either way.”

The demon gave him a look, raising one of his perfect brows as he did so. “You know, I don’t see why it’s so bad to know the difference between good and evil. I mean, shouldn’t we be sharing that, not keeping it to ourselves?”

Damn, he really had a point. Wilhelm still had to keep up appearances though.

“Well, it must be bad…”

“Simon,” the demon supplied helpfully, lips quirking up slightly in the corners. Wilhelm’s brain immediately saved that to memory even though he insisted that it not do so.

“...Simon,” he added slowly, turning the name over in his mouth. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have tempted them into it.”

Simon sighed, rolling his golden eyes. “Ugh, I told you, I just wanted an orange. Really, it’s the Almighty’s fault for not putting any orange trees in here.”

Wilhelm started to hum in agreement and then quickly pinched himself and shook his head.

“I mean,” the demon continued, “it’s not very subtle, is it? Why not put the tree up on a high mountain? Or even on the moon?”

Damn it, yet another good point. Wait, shit, was this what being tempted felt like? (Of course he would manage to not only be the angel who failed at protecting the garden but was also the first to be tempted after the Fall. August would have a fucking field day with this if he ever found out.)

“It makes you wonder what God’s really planning,” the demon said, giving him a look.

Wilhelm fidgeted anxiously and started chewing at his lip. “It’s probably best not to speculate. After all, it’s all a part of the Great Plan. We’re not meant to understand it. It’s…” what was that word that Kristina always used when droning on and on about the Almighty’s plan? Ah yes, “ineffable.”

Simon raised both of his perfectly shaped brows at him. “Ineffable?”

“Yes.” He rubbed a hand against his chest. “It’s beyond our understanding and—.”

“Didn’t you have a flaming sword earlier?”

Wilhelm flushed deeply, stammering, “Uh….”

“You did, it was all big and…bright. Did you already lose it?”

God, this was the worst. If this demon had already noticed in five minutes, then Erik was going to notice immediately when he saw him later.

“I gave it away,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing at his chest anxiously and squinting once more up at the dark clouds above them. He was pretty sure that they had gotten closer.

“You did what?” Simon asked, sounding almost delighted. Wilhelm resisted the urge to shoot him a dirty glare, simply because that wouldn’t be very holy and angelic of him to do. And that’s what he was: holy and angelic. Supposedly.

“I gave it away,” he said a little bit more loudly this time, rubbing at his chest harder and then running a hand through his hair as he gestured widely at the desert beyond the walls. “There are vicious animals and it’s cold! So, you know, I said, ‘Here, flaming sword. Don’t thank me. Bye.’”

A moment later, thinking about Erik’s inevitable disappointed look when he saw that he’d lost his sword, he added quietly, “I hope that I didn’t do the wrong thing.”

Beside him, Simon scoffed. “You’re an angel. I don’t think you can do the wrong thing.”

Maybe it was meant to be reassuring, but Wilhelm didn’t exactly feel reassured. Especially not when the other added, “Now you’ve got me wondering though if I did the right thing, tempting them with the apple and whatnot. Demons aren’t supposed to do the right thing.”

Wilhelm chewed at his lip and glanced over to find Simon watching him, golden eyes considering. There was a dry smile on his face.

“It’d be funny, wouldn’t it? If I did the right thing, and you did the wrong thing?”

Despite it all, Wilhelm felt his lips curl into a smile as he laughed. Across from him, Simon started laughing too and the sound was unlike anything that he had ever heard before. The moment didn’t last long though, not when Wilhelm realized that that probably wouldn’t be funny at all; however, the humor still lingered between them even as it started to rain and he noticed Simon shivering slightly as the cold drops hit the two of them.

Taking one look at the other’s tattered dark wings, Wilhelm immediately decided that it didn’t matter if his wings got wet and he extended one out over Simon’s head to shield him from the worst of it. After all, his wings would always dry back out eventually.

cerebrum, chapter 7:

Despite the constant reminders from their friends, the bachelor parties and the literal invitation sitting on their kitchen counter, Henry and Walter’s wedding still somehow managed to sneak up on Simon. It didn’t even feel real until he was at the venue that their friends had chosen, sitting in the crowd and waiting for the ceremony to start.

“There you are.”

He glanced up to find Maja and Erik, as well as Wilhelm’s parents, settling into the seats saved beside him. They had all been invited to the wedding too; however, the kids had obviously stayed at home. He tried not to feel disappointed at this.

“How are you?” Maja asked, leaning over to squeeze his hand. It felt somewhat forced and he tried not to pull away.

Since that disastrous dinner a month ago, things had been awkward between himself and Wilhelm’s family. None of them had ever really talked about what happened, the others pretending as if nothing happened and Simon being too afraid of upsetting the careful balance between him and Wilhelm to push the issue. Unsurprisingly though, Maja had pulled away slightly and Erik had become a bit more guarded when they spoke. Kristina was about the same as ever though.

He hated it, but he also hated the way that they had pushed him out.

For Wilhelm’s sake though, he had agreed to sit with them during the wedding rather than sitting with Felice or Madison. After a few minutes of awkward, stilted conversation though, he wondered if it would have just been better for everyone had he sat with someone else.

He didn’t have too long to regret this decision though, before the music started and they were all standing to turn and face the central aisle.

Alexander, Walter’s best man, walked down it first. Following him was Wilhelm.

At the sight of his partner, dressed in the groomsmen suit chosen by Henry, Simon felt his breath catch slightly. He had seen him earlier of course, when they were getting dressed back at the apartment, but it was something about seeing him in this setting. It made his throat ache, emotions clawing at his chest and leaving him feeling wrung out.

Beside him, he could feel Erik watching him, but he didn’t give the other the satisfaction of looking over at him. If he did, then the older might see the way that heat had begun to build behind Simon’s eyes and was threatening to spill over the edges even though he knew that it wouldn’t.

Henry and Walter followed shortly after that, arm in arm and both looking incredibly overwhelmed despite the smiles on their faces. Simon knew that they were both likely incredibly hungover from their bachelor parties; however, they were managing to hide it well.

The ceremony was short and sweet. He didn’t hear much of it though, almost all of his attention devoted to where Wilhelm stood near Henry.

The other was smiling faintly as he watched his best friend go through the vows with Walter. There was loss in his expression too though, hidden in the corners of his expression, and Simon felt his own heart ache with the familiarity of the feeling. It was the same one that had settled over him earlier and was clawing at his throat, leaving him feeling choked up and unable to breathe.

He was beginning to wonder if he would ever breathe normally again when cheers went up all around them. At the front, Henry and Walter were kissing, both of them obviously smiling. They were still smiling when they pulled apart a moment later, Walter cupping Henry’s face so gently that it almost made Simon want to look away. (Jealousy and loss in equal turns left his throat raw after that.)

They led the procession out this time, holding hands and smiling giddily over at each other as they passed by the rows. Wilhelm was smiling too as he followed after the two newlyweds and their eyes found each other as he passed by Simon’s row. It felt like a moment and forever passed in those few seconds, like everything was both once how it was and also their new normal now too.

Simon blinked and the other had already passed by, almost to the end of the rows and following Henry and Walter out. He watched him go and tried to remember how to breathe again.

“That was absolutely beautiful,” Maja said from beside him after a moment. She was smiling brightly when he glanced over at her. Erik was nodding in agreement, smiling as well.

It took him a long time to find his voice—probably too long, but he didn’t care at this point anymore—before he nodded and said, “Yeah. Absolutely.”

Somehow, he managed to keep his voice steady. Even his smile didn’t feel too forced after a moment.

[toki-toro]

Do I run over this liberal or do I drive around him

[lolitastories]

Helpless

Description: She worked as a lawyer in New York until she received a phone call from the man she owes her career to. She knew she would be back and what she was in for but what she didn’t know is that her life would change even more than she imagined.

Part 3

Chapter 2

“I need you to get this whole reporter thing situated. Jamie will still be working but only when I say so. He will stay in the bunkhouse until then working on himself” After Jamie’s suicide attempt John told him to rebuild himself, he didn’t feel like losing another child of his. “Also check up on Cassidy and Beth” I nod getting up. I walk out his office and out the front door. It was only 8 in the morning and I could just fall down and take a long nap. The whole ranch was alive. I look to my left and see the cowboys doing whatever they do with the cattle. I have met some of the cowboys here, such as Ryan, Lloyd, Jimmy, and Colby. Not really a fan of the whole ranch life but seeing them passionate and happy here is a bit liberating. Back home it was a small town and I call it the inbetween. We didn’t have large lands with farm animals or cowboys but we also didn’t have what cities do. You could go from a quiet neighborhood with a decent amount of land to a 10 minute drive down to city hall where bars and tourists danced around until curfew. The inbetween.

“Ready for that horse riding lesson?” My gaze left the cowboys and moved over to rip putting on his gloves.

“Give me another 6 years and i’ll let you know” He chuckles walking up beside me to give me a side hug but leaving him around my shoulders.

“Have to get rid of the fear if you are going to stay around here, you know horses can feel whatever you are feeling” I shake my head with a smile

“You’re horse must have a lot of anger and entitlement” I hear Lloyd laugh from close by. “Has he been acting better?” Lloyd gives me a hurt look

“I could never talk about the boss like that” The laugh that leaves me is only cut short when I catch Kayce in the corner of my eye. He pulls the horse in the secluded section. A little boy stands by watching him as the horse starts bucking but soon enough the horse settles and runs along the ring.

“That his son, Tate” I only nod. “And that's his soon to be ex wife” I look over at the tan, thin, black haired woman walking up to the fence. “Have you been helping with his divorce?” I look up seeing a grin on his face.

“Rip Rip Rip.” I shake my head again removing his arm and walking closer to him and whispering since I don’t want anyone else to hear.

“I think you should be focused on your love life which needs the most help than anyone else's plus, you know I don’t talk about my cases unless John says so '' I wave him goodbye and turn to do the same with the cowboys. I had a long morning ahead of me and I can tell you it will be an even longer afternoon.

I went over to the office and got familiar with everything going with Sarah Nguyen. The report states the cause of death was drowning which was nothing new here. The problem will be if anything shows in her body as signs it wasn’t drowning that killed her. There has been a test of what I would do for this family and this was truly the worst. Everybody is shown right from wrong from a young age. I know it's wrong to help cover this up, for god sake I devote myself to tell the truth under oath and if this goes to court rooms I will bend myself over backwards to stand loyal. Now to stop that from happening I need to make sure Jamie’s name is nowhere connected to hers. She hadn’t published anything but I can count on her talking to people close to her about what she was writing about. I have to check up on that and the notes she surely has on the interview. The next thing wasn’t something I could do alone. Beth was attacked and the men were taken care of. It has been a hassle to shut down anything being said but so far we have done a good job. Not only does the Beck brothers have hands on this but they also found out they had to do with the whole cattle situation. I recently found out about the plane they kept. Now it was up to Kayce and the association to use that and if they need help I will step in. I look at my clock after finally getting something to eat and see it hit 2.

“Miss Reid is waiting to hear from you” My assistant said, walking through the door holding my phone.

“Make a call down to Dutton’s phone company and get Jamie's phone transfer started. Make a damage/lost claim and tell them I will be by there in an hour” She nods handing me the phone “Miss Reid”

“Y/L/N” I met Cassidy once. When she was trusted as attorney general. “John gave me a call this morning to let me know you would be stopping by” I fake chuckle. Not that I didn’t like her but something was off and I had a hard time trusting some people.

“Of course. I wasn’t going to go around him but I thought there was really no real reason to bother you since you must be busy with the new job.”

“Oh and what hectic can it be” She laughs

“Am sure, listen we could plan to get drinks because I am sure we will spend some time together soon enough, unless you have something to discuss with me?”

“Drinks sounds great right now but you’re right we have to schedule it for some other time. At this moment everything is handled although I do have something to pick with you” Ok. “It has nothing to do with the job or John but it's something personal that we can discuss this Wednesday?”

“Is it a morning drink situation or afternoon?” I pull out a sticky note.

“A late evening” I was surprised to hear that from her.

“How’s 7?

“I’ll text you the location”

“See you then” We exchange goodbyes and I hang

up the phone. I get up grabbing my things and heading out my office door. “Set this up for wednesday. Do you have the paperwork on Kayce and Monica’s divorce?”

“The paperwork hasn’t been sent from court.” I I almost faceplant myself on her desk.

“I’ll take care of it. What did they say about the phone?”

“They will have it there waiting in an hour” I thankher telling her I would be leaving for the day.

“You can go home early” I say leaving the doors. Now I have to spend the rest of my afternoon in court waiting on papers. It should be fast but what Jennifer didn’t listen to when I told her to file the papers was that she was supposed to file them with the reservation. I know I should have checked up on the paperwork sooner but I know they usually take a while so I didn’t bother. I waited the process and rushed over to the store to get Jamie’s phone before going back to the office.

“Your assistant wasn’t answering her phone” I looked over my shoulder to see Beth walking up.

“And you couldn’t press another two buttons to call me?” She gave me an annoyed look while I unlocked the door for her.

“You don’t seem to pick up your phone either” I look down at it with the time stamp saying 6 and a miss call from Beth.

“Was in a reservation filing paperwork and staying to make the process faster” I motion to the file in my hand and throw it to the table.

“Have you eaten?” She asked softly, taking a seat.

“Yes mom”

“Don’t tempt me with grounding you, I could pass as your mother” I chuckle, leaning back and closing my eyes. Looking at her wasn’t easy, knowing what she went through and I know Beth wasn’t weak but what she went through wasn’t either. I can’t see the bruises she carries and not imagine those men beating her up. Or the way Rip limped this morning because of the bullets he received that night.

“That would make you 13 when you had me” I look over at her just staring at me.

“I would have made a hot teen mother” We laughed but soon enough it died down.

“What's in your head?” She gets up making herself a drink offering me one but I deny it. I was working late and I didn’t need it to make this night longer.

“My role in this family is to keep it together for the sake of my dad” I shake my head agreeing with her. She was doing all of this for him, I knew that. “Kayce is majorly helping with this but if anything goes wrong with this divorce” She was mainly talking about his son. “Than it could not only affect him, the farm but also my dad”

“I will make it happen”

“I know” She leans back into the chair taking thelast sip of her drink. “What I am saying is that if it makes it easier and cuts the time short then I will take care of the dirty work if you need it.” That was not necessary. I know I could do it.

“Of course Beth” I smile. She sets the cup down and I get up as she heads out the door.

“You don’t need to walk me out. I can take care of myself” She leaves with one last smile closing my office door. Of course I wasn’t listening to her. I walk out after hearing the main door close. I watch her get in her car and drive away safely. I let out a yawn preparing myself for more research and making sure I had everything set on Kayce’s divorce case. Monica had made it clear she wanted full custody and would only allow Tate to visit under her rules. Kayce wanted to pull the same fight but John suggested otherwise. They agreed to go with shared custody. Once I was done with enough for the day I packed everything up again and drove to the ranch. Getting in a late dinner, warm shower, and straight to my bed seemed like a perfect end to the night.

“Get into the car” I was walking up the stairs before releasing Kayce was behind me as he grabbed my things and placed them in the back of a truck. I look over to the driver's seat and see John. I didn’t ask any question as I got in or while we were heading to our destination.

“I just want you to observe and listen” I nod, getting out of the truck together. Officers surrounded the victim on the road. The sheriff approaches John as he is examining the body. It was an officer for Rainwater.

“Am not saying it was you but that it looks like you” It doesn’t sit well with John but knowing Donnie, he knows they are on the same page.

“You can turn around if you want” Kayce says next to me

“Shh” I shush him walking closer to the men speaking but not enough to catch their attention.

“Now we know who did it” Rainwater states looking over to the sheriff

“No evidence other than the bullet in his head”

“That halts construction” Rainwater says lastly, leaving Donnie and John talking. I hear their last words and how John says he's not fazed about an attempt from the Beck brothers. He walks over to Kayce and begins talking to him.

“Native?” I shake my head. “Mexican?” I look over confused at his words. “Am just curious on the kind of person you are”

“Why?” I turn my whole body towards his direction. “Because I am involved with the Dutton family and I should maybe be involved with other people?” I know who I was and what I stood for. Rainwater chuckles a bit, looks behind me and then at me again.

“I’d like to pick your brain someday, if that's okay with you?” I nod. He extends his hand and I shake it before departing towards the Duttons. Kayce looking at Rainwater walks away and I ignore his stare getting into the car. We arrive and I walk directly to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink now?” I look up from leaning against the island.

“No” I said a little too coldly before taking a cup.

“What are you, 8?” I laugh while finishing pouring milk into my cup.

“I wish” I whisper while walking over to her and we take a seat in the living room.

“What do you have in your agenda tomorrow?”

“Sitting down with Monica and Kayce and following up on a couple other things but I should be free until 10 and finish around lunch time”

“Want to go out tonight?” I haven’t gone out in a while. What could happen?