#ever since like may? I’ve lost my passion for editing and it feels like a chore

[preyse]

hey guys uhh no fancy message or anything but I’m quitting!!! I’ll still be active on discord though so friend me

[doromoni]

Hunting Affections

Charles Leclerc x photographer!reader

Max Verstappen x photographer!reader

Epilogue

fanfic + smau fic

faceclaim : Hwang Eunbi

warnings : nothing ig?

A/N : UP FOR EDITING 🤍

masterlist

<previous

Summary; Love is but a concept — just connections of neurons that take part in the brain … and yet, why is it the most painful when one falls alone?

or

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back , until you can’t no more. Maybe then they’ll actually know what they’ve lost.

Certainty is not a word to describe life, as change is constant, and nothing can tell what tomorrow may bring. No day is perfect, and no day is the same as the ones before. Everything changes and not all people in our lives actually stay, and not everything that we planned is fated for us — but maybe it’s actually for the best.

I thought that I had lost myself when a person that I loved parted from my life. I thought that my everything was over when Charles Leclerc left me.— well I did, and it did, but I found a better version of me in the end.

Now, I could honestly say that I’ve forgiven all that had been done. I am truly thankful for everything that had happened in the past, for what I have now couldn’t have happened because of it.

y/n_stills.

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y/n_stills. Everyone, we would like for you to meet our sweetest angel, Jilian 💙.

We’ve decided that it was time that you all get to meet our most precious, baby girl. During the first few years of our baby, we have decided that it would be the best to keep her out of the spotlight and keep her to ourselves for the meantime. We hope that you understand and respect our decision and that everyone will show kindness to our angel.

comments are restricted

“Mommy, please hurry up! I don’t wanna miss Daddy’s race” and there goes my most precious little girl stomping her feet as she sped towards my legs hugging them in a death grip.

“I know, I know , my sweet . Mommy just needs a minute to fix my hair , then we’ll go see daddy, alright? Why don’t you choose which car you want Mommy to drive” I said trying to placate the pouting girl. Nodding eagerly, she dashed towards the garage.

She was a carbon copy of her dad, from her features to her attitude — She really was her daddy’s daughter alright. She even got his love for cars and his passion for the sport — I love her even more for it.

Hearing the small footsteps coming back, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Seeing my daughter bounce in excitement as she clutched the car keys in her tiny hands has brought the greatest of warmth to my heart. Zooming towards me she then pushed the keys to my hands, then making her way back to the garage. Looking down to key, a chuckle left my lips. As expected, my daughter knew what she wanted , her favorite — and of course it’s her daddy’s Ferrari 488 Pista.

After buckling my baby in her car seat, I drove us to the race circuit. Today was her first ever actual race and appearance to the public. Her father and I had agreed that it was about time to desensitize her to the motorsport world, since both of us are still active in our fields … plus she’s been begging to come with us rather than staying in with her nanny.

Feeling the excitement from my baby , as the circuit came nearer and fans wearing the colors of their teams rushing past our car — with some sending waves our way.

“Mommy, why are they saying hi? Are they friends?” My daughter asked with big eyes as she tried to take everything in.

“Yes sweetie, they are our friends! They also support daddy and other uncles’ racing.” I explained as I parked the car in the private lot.

y/n_stills. 2mins

viewed by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton and 1,636,162 others

story replies

landonorris MY NIECE! MY NIECE! MY NIECE!

landonorris your favorite unkow wando is hereeee

y/n_stills. Hmmm favorite… sure.

oscarpiastri Mom! You brought Jillyyyyyy~ please let me babysit later! 🥺

y/n_stills. Well she did miss you

oscarpiastri YES! I promise I won’t leave her with lando!

Grabbing everything we need, I picked up my daughter and placed her on my hip. Her tiny arms circled my neck tightly growing shy from the attention we were getting from the fans as we walked through the paddock

“It’s ok baby. Mommy is here, their not gonna hurt you. Remember, they are our friends! Let’s go find your Daddy, hm?” I said soothingly as I placed a kiss on her forehead. Sensing that she was starting to get overwhelmed, I planned to move quicker to our motorhome, when a familiar voice shouted catching our attention.

“Y/N! Mon Petit Jillian! “

My Jillian physically perked up at the voice. Suddenly giddy , she squirmed at my hold. With a soft smile and with no choice but to let go , I looked at my daughter run towards the man with a squeal.

Jillian ran straight into the arms of Charles Leclerc.

———

“Charles, let’s talk please”

Here we are, where everything had all began. We are once again sitting beneath the stars , hidden from civilization, on the same beach where we poured our soul out for the world to hear.

He remained quiet as he looked at the crashing waves up ahead. Charles looked so peaceful, as if everything had finally fallen into place. Then a soft smile suddenly appeared on his lips as he looked straight into my eyes. Patting the place next to him as he looked back into the ocean, I then complied and took a seat beside him.

We sat their in complete silence, only savoring the peace that the both of us missed. He then spoke , his voice blending in with the sound of the waves crashing ahead of us.

“Do you really love him?” Charles had asked earnestly, there was no anger in his voice. His eyes were clear, holding only tranquility and peace.

“Yes, I do. I do love Max, so so much.” a smile growing , as I answered without a doubt. Charles turned silent again , this time closing his eyes. Yet , again a smile had shown in his lips, this time it reflected understanding acknowledgment, and then finally… acceptance.

“I was really a fool for what I did to you, Y/N. I’m sorry for being selfish and hindering you from your happiness . To be honest, I haven’t been alright for a while … even I don’t understand myself. I felt miserable and I felt that it wasn’t fair … and others should feel the same.”

“When I saw you getting along with everyone, I grew jealous and vindictive, specially when my entire family loved you instantly, I could never do that you know? I was blinded by my own faults, so I blamed you instead because it was easier. I had the mindset that you were mine and I that we should be hurting together… that you shouldn’t be happy when i’m not. I took everything out on you and you didn’t deserve any of it. Not at all. You deserve the entire world and more.”

Charles then looked back at me with the same eyes that looked at me when we first met — the same eyes that filled with the same spark… the spark of freedom.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for everything …. I’m letting you go. Be happy“

My tears gushed endlessly, as i choked on my sobs. Now Charles and I chanting a different promise to the same stars that witnessed our journey.

———

5 years had passed, and a lot has changed. All of us had moved on and had gone through with our lives. Everything has changed, all of us had matured to what we are now.

“How is my favorite little girl, doing? Did mommy let you play with the present I gave you?” Charles had lifted Jillian to his hip as he caught the toddler mid run. Rolling my eyes at the Monegasque driver, I went towards them.

“Noooooo , Uncle ChaCha! Mommy didn’t let me play with it yet! She said that I could play with it when I’m five!”

Seeing my daughter act petulant to her favorite uncle (Don’t tell Lando) brought a chuckle to the both of us.

“What? How dare Mommy say no to a princess?” Charles acted exaggeratedly

“ Well Mommy is the queen , and Daddy said that everyone should follow her orders” My baby said smartly.

“And Daddy stands by his statement! Mommy is always right!” Then the voice of my husband boomed behind me, and our daughter automatically jumping into her Daddy’s arms.

There stood with the biggest of smiles with our bundle of happiness, joy and love , our daughter settled in his arms, Max Emilian Verstappen , my husband, the father of our child, and the love of my life.

I didn’t need to hunt for affection any longer , Now I am surrounded by it .

Fin~

Thank you for reading, everyone 🤍

[madelineariah]

2023/April 14th - Creative

I have been a bit exhausted the last few days.

My sleep schedule got kinda messed up, though this is not entirely out of character for me when I get fixated on a new idea. I decided about a week or two ago that I would try to revitalize my interest in video production. I probably should preface this by saying that I tried running a YouTube channel back in 2020. Probably not the best time to get into it, but it was what it was.

When I did it, I was narrating some of the novels that I have written over the years. Writing is my passion, yet it’s not a compatible medium with many of the passions and interests of most people these days. People want interactive media – it’s why they turn to visual novels or YouTube videos or games to get their reading in.

The videos I made honestly never really felt like they were at their fullest potential. It felt like I didn’t have the proper tools to bring my words to life, and I became very frustrated by the outcome. While I reached 60 subscribers during that time period, I eventually became so bothered by the quality of my own content that I deleted all of it from existence and put the channel on hiatus.

Recently, though, I have had a change of direction in my life. I decided that because racing videogames have been a lifelong hobby of mine, I would like to do highlight videos surrounding my favorite racing games. As such, I’ve spent the last several days prepping videos for a May 1st debut. I have about seven completed already.

What I’ve noticed so far is that because I have better equipment now, that alone has given me more confidence in my abilities. In 2020, I was video editing on a Chromebook (which many of you might not think possible, but I assure you, it is). The videos were serviceable, but they lacked the kind of professional quality that I wanted of them.

Now, though, I have an enterprise-level Windows desktop with an enterprise-level GPU that I was using for CAD applications during my last round of college (see my post about going to college three damn times).

Since my drafting stuff is currently on hiatus, I figure that I should probably get my money’s worth from the machine, and it turns out that it can encode a 10 minute 720p video in about 45 seconds. Not bad. As far as the games, I am recording them on an Xbox One X which I have calibrated to record in 720p because Xbox DVR requires your clips be processed over the cloud, and my internet – while good in terms of download speed – is terrible at upload speed.

I learned recently that Xbox DVR files corrupt very easily. Audio sync issues are also very common. So… Not the best start.

Nonetheless, I do feel like the way I have things set up lends itself to my style of video production. What I’m doing is recording individual races and events in-game and then creating highlight reels from them. Some of these highlight videos have a story to them, even.

The audio sync is easy enough to fix using the video editing software. That said, I have lost a handful of good clips due to file corruption – which led to much sulking.

To prevent myself from going insane, I’m probably only gonna upload twice a week – Monday and Thursday. This gives me 2-3 days between videos to work on each one. So far, I’ve noticed it takes approximately 90 minutes to encode enough clips for a 10 minute video, and then editing takes two to four hours depending on storyboarding, effects used, and also needing to create the thumbnails for each video.

And of course, my videos are going to have overlays that show my channel name and eventually things like a Twitter link, Ko-Fi link, etc. If I ever decide to stream, those same overlays could be used to show stream-related info (I think that’s how it works). But getting that sophisticated is gonna take time, I guess.

For the first month, I figure I will use a compact overlay (just a banner, really). Then after, I will make a full-screen overlay in 1080p with the 720p gameplay footage in windowed mode. That’s the plan, anyway. There’s still so much I need to figure out, and I am doing all of this myself.

I would say that my goal is simply to attract people who love the same things I love and who I can share memories with. Like, as a gamer, I often play alone. I don’t really have “gaming friends.” I’d like that to change.

[bibbawrites]

Don’t Mention This To Anyone - Alive!Luke Patterson x Reader (SMUT)

Request: Hi can u do a luke x reader smut with an enemies to lovers storyline? Maybe they’re at a party and they’re playing truth or dare and luke and the reader get dared to play too hot to handle and later on at the party they get drunk and hook up? // can you do rough sex with luke?!! // Can u do a luke x reader enemies to lovers smut? //  Would you make a Luke and Y/N smut and just make it whatever you want but super smutty?

Word Count: 2163 words

Summary: Your best friend Julie invites you and Flynn to come over to hang out with her bandmates, and a game of too hot to handle ends up making you re-evaluate your relationship with Luke Patterson

Warnings: swearing, mention of underage drinking, unprotected sex, choking, praise kink, dirty talk, grinding/groping

A/N: hopefully this makes sense, i’m editing it half asleep lol  i’ve also put together a masterlist which you can find here anyways hope you enjoy :) 

You should have said no when Julie batted her eyes and asked you if you wanted to come hang out with her bandmates after school one Friday night. 

You should have said no when she used alcohol as a bribing tactic to get you to come. 

You should have made up an excuse not to go. 

Don’t get the wrong impression, you loved Alex and Reggie. The two boys had become close friends of yours since the day Julie first introduced them to you and Flynn. 

It was Luke Patterson that you had an issue with. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms and the lead pain in your ass since the minute you met. 

If you had said no to coming you wouldn’t have been in this situation. 

Staring down at the bottle on the floor after you drunkenly agreed to a game of Too Hot to Handle, watching as the bottle slowly stopped and pointed at the one person you were praying it wouldn’t. 

Luke fucking Patterson. 

“Oh fuck no.” You exclaimed loudly. Luke shook his head. 

“No way. Not doing it.” He said, his tone matching yours. 

“You have to, the bottle chose you.” Reggie grinned. You rolled your eyes. 

“The bottle doesn’t know what it’s doing.” You spat. 

“It’s simple, if you don’t want to do it that bad just give in straight away.” Flynn raised an eyebrow, looking between yourself and Luke. 

“I’m not a quitter, Y/L/N can give up.” Luke said. Your eyes narrowed. 

“What makes you think I’m a quitter Patterson.” You stared at the boy across from you, venom in your eyes. 

“There’s only one way to settle this then.” Julie spoke up after a moment of silence. 

“Play the fucking game.” Alex finished, his head resting on Willie’s shoulder. 

You rolled your eyes, standing up and making your way over to Luke. You knelt down in front of him, glaring at him. 

“I still hate your fucking guts.” You told him. He smirked. 

“The feeling’s mutual princess.” His tone was condescending. 

You placed your hand on his thigh, leaning in and sucking on his neck. He scoffed. 

“Is that all you’ve got Y/L/N?” He teased. 

You pulled away, glaring at him again before moving your hand up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch, your eyes never leaving his. He didn’t even bat an eyelid. 

You held back a scowl, frustrated that Luke was so good at this game. Standing up you sat down in his lap, grinding your ass into his dick. You grabbed his hand and placed it onto one of your boobs, and your friends whistled at the scene. 

Luke fake yawned and this time you couldn’t help but scowl. 

“Are you fucking kidding? Nothing? Maybe Carrie is right and you are in love with Reggie.” You said, and Reggie choked on his drink. 

“Guess you’re not as seductive as you thought, sweetheart.” Luke teased, ignoring the comment about Reggie. You moved again so that you were straddling his hips, and you could feel that his dick was slightly hard in his pants. Motivated by this you started rocking back and forth, trying to ignore the feelings of pleasure shooting through your body. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t be watching this.” Flynn joked, covering Julie’s eyes with one hand and Reggie’s with her other.

“You guys were the ones who wanted this.” You reminded them, stopping and looking Luke in the eyes. You had always known that Luke was an attractive guy, his arrogance often outshining his good looks, but up close he was stunning. You hesitated and he smiled, glancing down at your lips. Your heart started to race and you mentally kicked yourself. 

This was Luke Patterson, the same boy who you had hated ever since Julie had first introduced him to you. 

The boy who was so self centered he couldn’t handle things not being about him.

The boy who you fought with every single time you saw him. 

He lent closer and you froze. Was he going to kiss you? 

“I- I give up.” You stuttered, jumping out of his lap and rushing back to your spot. 

“I knew you’d chicken out.” Luke sung, a smug look on his face. 

You were silent, and Luke’s cocky grin fell, concern flicking through his eyes for a brief moment. 

“Hey Julie, it’s getting late, everyone needs to go home.” Ray said, stepping into the studio and you stood up quickly, rushing to grab your bag as the others stood up slowly. 

“You sure you don’t wanna stay the night Y/N?” Julie asked as you flung your bag onto your back. You nodded.

“Yeah I’m sure, my mum would kill me.” You said, and she nodded understandingly. 

“Can I walk you home?” Luke blurted out, and everyone turned to look at him in shock. He shrugged. 

“What? I may hate her guts but I still don’t want her to be murdered on the way home.” He said, and you could have sworn you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

“No it’s fine, my house is just around the corner, Alex or Reggie can walk me.” You replied, glancing at your two friends. 

“Yeah I can-” Reggie stopped, noticing the glare that Luke was shooting him. “Actually sorry Y/N, I really have to get home quickly before my parents realise I was gone.” 

“Alex?” You tried. The blond boy shook his head. 

“Sorry babe, Willie and I are heading in the complete opposite direction.” Alex shot you a sympathetic look. You sighed, turning your attention to Luke. 

“Fine, let’s go Patterson.” You said, giving in. 

Luke followed behind you as you left the garage and headed out onto the street, walking in silence for a few minutes before you decided to speak up.

“So what’s your motive?” You asked. Luke frowned.

“My what?” He asked.

“Why are you walking me home? You said yourself you hate my guts.” 

“Can’t I just be a good friend?” He tried. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re not friends.” You reminded him. He shrugged as you turned heading down your street.

“Okay.” He replied simply. You stopped in front of your house, spinning on your heels to look at him.

“So?” You questioned. He hesitated, his normally confident aura gone. He opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, instead taking a step towards you. You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and your heart skipped a beat when you noticed the lust in his eyes.

“Luke.” You muttered quietly, and suddenly your back was pressed against the front wall of your house, his lips on yours.

Your brain short circuited. No one had ever kissed you with that much passion before.

You kissed him back with just as much force, the lust and alcohol clouding your better judgement.

He pulled away to take a breath and you wordlessly grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him towards your front door. You reached into your bag to find your keys, Luke’s lips on your neck sucking hard enough that you were definitely going to have a few marks to cover in the morning. You got the door unlocked and you kicked it open, spinning around to capture Luke’s lips with your own again, kissing him as you dragged him into your house.

“Are your family home?” He questioned breathlessly as he pulled away. You nodded.

“Just mum.” You told him as you lead him up the stairs, him trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “But she doesn’t care if I bring people home to fuck as long as we’re safe.”

You reached your bedroom door and opened it, shoving Luke inside before shutting and locking the door behind you.

He roughly shoved you against the door, lips connecting once more in a passionate kiss full of tongues and roaming hands.

You kicked off your shoes and began to strip down, your lips never once leaving his, and he did he same. You briefly pulled apart for him to remove his shirt, but once it was off his lips were back on yours again.

“Fuck.” He groaned, as your naked bodies pressed against each other.

“Speaking of, can you please?” You teased, pushing off the wall and placing your hands on his shoulders, leading him to your bed.

You gave him a light shove so that he fell backwards, and you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, almost moaning at the feeling of his hard dick slipping between your folds.

“God Y/L/N.” Luke groaned as you began to move your hips, grinding into his boner.

“Shut up.” You told him.

He flipped you over, pinning you against your bed, his hand coming up to grab at your neck, choking you slightly.

You moaned loudly, not even caring that your mother might hear. She’d know in the morning by the marks littering your body.

“You like that? You like it when I choke you?” Luke questioned, placing a bit more pressure on your neck but not enough to hurt you or constrict your airways. 

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned in response.

“Of course you do, you dirty little whore.” His words made you even wetter, hips bucking up for some kind of contact.

“Patterson please just fuck me.” You groaned. He smirked.

“If you say so.” He sat up, hands running down your sides, before hesitating slightly.

“Do you have...” He paused, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Are you clean?” You questioned. He nodded. “Me too. Just fuck me.”

“But what about-” He started.

“I’m on the pill.” You cut him off. “Please Luke.”

He smirked.

“I think you need to beg a bit more.” He teased. 

“Fuck me right now or you’ll be jerking off in the street alone.” You threatened.

“Jesus princess, no need to be so pushy.” He said as he lined up his dick with your hole, pushing in roughly causing you to gasp.

“Fuck.” You exclaimed. He barely gave you time to adjust before he was pounding into you again, causing the both of you to swear loudly.

“Again.” You stuttered out, and he obeyed, slamming into you again.

“That feels so good.” You groaned.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, repeating his actions to see your reaction.

“Yes you cocky bastard.” You spat, and he grinned.

“Fuck you.” He said.

“Please.” You bit back. He grinned, before beginning to thrust hard, creating a rhythm. His hand went back to your throat again, pressing down causing you to moan loudly.

“Fuck if you keep this up I won’t last.” You groaned. He bit his lip as he continued to pound into you.

“Me neither.” He admitted. He sped up his pace, the room filled with the sounds of slapping skin and your breathless moans.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, and you felt the familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

“Me too.” You said. He glanced at you, seemingly hesitant to say something.

“What?” You questioned.

He bit his lip.

“Could you... tell me that I’m doing good?” He questioned, somewhat shyly.

“You have a praise kink?” You asked.

“Maybe...” He replied quietly.

“God Luke this feels so good. You feel so good.” You moaned, smirking at his reaction.

“Okay yes, I have a praise kink.” He admitted, squeezing your throat slightly as a warning not to tease him. You gasped.

“Yes Luke. So good.” You praised, and he moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna cum.” He said between moans.

“Ugh yes, fill me with your hot cum like the good boy you are.” You moaned, and he came undone, hips stuttering as he came inside you. The feeling of his cum coating your insides was enough to set you off too, your walls clenching around him as you came hard.

“I hate you.” You moaned.

“I hate you more.” He replied breathily.

You rode out your highs together and he pulled out, flopping down next to you.

“Mind if I stay the night?” He asked softly. You hesitated.

“No, I don’t mind.” You eventually decided. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you, his hair stuck to his head with sweat, and you suddenly realised that maybe you didn’t hate Luke Patterson as much as you thought you did.

You forced yourself to get up and clean off in the bathroom before climbing back into bed still naked with Luke.

He snuggled into your side and you pressed a soft kiss to his head, an oddly intimate gesture to someone you had claimed to hate up until an hour or so ago.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Luke whispered softly, his voice full of sleep.

“Goodnight Luke.” You replied, and with that the two of you drifted off to sleep, until the next morning when a shout woke you from your slumber.

“Oh my god did you two fuck?” Alex’s voice startled you, and you groaned, pulling the covers up over your head.

You were never going to live this one down.

[archerdaryl]

NSFW Alphabet: Daryl Dixon Edition

Happy Valentine’s Day! I’ve been planning on doing the NSFW Alphabet for Daryl for a while, but I hope it makes up for my absence nonetheless. I’ve tried to keep it as in character as possible -- or at least true to my perceptions of his character. Please be warned that this has explicit sexual content. Other than that, enjoy!  ♡

A for Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After catching his breath, Daryl will pull you in close and ask you if you’re alright in that thick Southern drawl of his. You can tell how much he cares about you by the slight smile on his lips and the way he traces faint circles on your hip with his thumb. He never wants to let you go, but eventually he’ll get you both a drink and ask if you want something to eat. Sometime he’ll even help you get dressed or pull you into the shower. Daryl may not be the type of man to verbalise his affection, but he certainly shows it. 

B for Body Part (of theirs and their partner)

Daryl doesn’t think particularly highly of himself when it comes to aesthetics, but he does like his arms. They’re toned. They’re strong. Not only can he keep you safe, make you feel like home is within his arms, but he can also hold you up effortlessly as he thrusts into you. Whether it’s against a wall or simply holding you up in the middle of a room with your thighs wrapped around his waist, there’s no chance he’ll drop you. 

If he can’t choose your smile, he would choose your thighs. He loves the way they look and feel against his hands, the smooth supple skin and the curve of your ass. He often naps on your inner thigh as you read on the couch, using it as a pillow as he takes in the smell of your vanilla and peach body wash. What he loves the most, however, is the strength of them clasped around his head as he eats you out. He’d happily suffocate within them if it meant getting you off. 

C is for Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It takes a long time for him to feel comfortable coming undone inside of you. The fear of pregnancy aside, he thinks the world of you and nothing of himself. He doesn’t think you deserve filth like that, but little does he know -- you like his filth. The first time is an accident, but there’s no denying how good it feels and you soon join him in climax as if being filled with his cum is what pushed you over the edge. You kiss him over and over to let him know it’s okay, and from then on he finds it harder and harder to find the will to pull out. 

Your cum, however, he can’t get enough of. Nothing riles him up like slipping his fingers into your jeans and feeling how slick you are. Your cum is liquid gold as far as he’s concerned, nothing short of a drug for him from the smell to the taste. Knowing that he can make you feel like that is intoxicating. He only ever wants to make you feel good, to feel wanted and needed and for you to whimper his name while he worships you between your legs.

D is for Dirty Secret 

Daryl often fantasizes about fucking you on his motorcycle. He isn’t sure why, it may not even be particularly comfortable, he just knows it really gets him going. The only problem is that it’s so out in the open and anyone could catch you, but that’s not going to stop him if you’re willing to try. 

E  is for Experience (how experienced are they?)

Daryl is not particularly experienced. He hasn’t had sex since the world turned to shit and even prior to that it wasn’t something he obsessed over like his brother. When you first start sleeping together, he’s uncertain of himself and scared of hurting you but your gentle touch and sweet gaze are nothing short of loving. Thankfully, he is incredibly perceptive. His desire to please you drives him. He feels how your body reacts, listens to your whines and whimpers, and watches your face contort. You tell him what to do without even realising it and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t listen. 

F is for Favourite Position

Any position where he can get as close to you as possible. He wants to feel every inch of you, your breasts against his chest, your hot breath against his shoulder, the scrape of your nails down his back. The closeness he desires fills a void inside of him. He wants to overwhelm him, he wants to hold you close and let the world around you disappear. He wants to hear you moan into his ear -- no -- against his mouth as he desperately kisses you to try and keep you quiet. Whether it’s missionary or from behind, as long as he can hold you in some way he’s happy. 

G is for Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? or funny?)

Though he might laugh at your quips, Daryl generally takes sex quite seriously. He finds it incredibly vulnerable and to him it is ultimately a profession of love. Having said this, he can’t help but sometimes smirk to himself while getting you off. 

H is for Hair (how well groomed are they? do they like body hair?)

You might have preferences regarding your own body hair but Daryl doesn’t care about how well groomed you are. It’s the Goddamn apocalypse -- who has the time to deal with all of that? As for himself, he might trim here and there out of uncertainty (he isn’t sure what you prefer) but that’s likely the extent of his grooming habits. 

I is for Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Daryl is romantic without meaning to be -- he isn’t sure what romance is beyond a steak dinner and a bouquet of flowers and the world isn’t exactly built for that anymore. He loves to kiss you and hold you close and he often checks that you’re okay. Even during spontaneous or your more carnal fucks, he’s always conscious of your reactions and wants you to feel in control even if he’s the one taking the lead. 

J is for Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

It wasn’t often Daryl touched himself before you came along. Sometimes he did it just to release some tension rather than because he was horny. Prior to realising you reciprocate his feelings, he often lost himself in thought fantasizing about you only to get hard and frustrated. He thought about your lips, the way you might sound when you moaned his name, how your thighs would feel wrapped around his head or his waist. If he didn’t curse himself for being a pervert, he’d find himself touching himself late at night or in the shower. Now that you’re his, he doesn’t feel the need to masturbate at all. 

K is for Kink 

Daryl likes it when you pull at his hair. Something about the desperation of it and the sweet sting of his scalp only makes him thrust into you harder. Though he might not realise it himself, he also has a praise kink -- being told how good he makes you feel drives him over the edge. He wants to give you everything you desire and more and hearing you moan in approval only makes him fuck you harder.

He may be apprehensive about some of your kinks, especially if they involve hurting you, but you only have to explain to him that the way he feels when you pull his hair is how you feel when he spanks you and he’s suddenly willing to try. Other than that, he’s likely more than willing to oblige and partake in your kinks if it means pleasing you. 

L is for Location 

Daryl isn’t particularly picky about where you have sex. He just wants you to feel safe and comfortable. You often end up fucking on his couch, but there’s also been a couple of instances in the shower, once on Rick’s pool table, and plenty of times in the watch towers. You almost had sex in the chapel once, but Gabriel came in singing hymns and you couldn’t stop laughing.

Though he prioritises you above anything else, fucking you into the floor or even the ground outside really gets him going. It feels dirtier, primal even, like what God originally intended or some shit like that he can’t put into words. It feels like you and him against the world and that’s all he wants. 

M is for Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going)

It doesn’t take much for you to turn him on, but he loves it when you initiate sex. The reassurance that you want him as much as he wants you is everything to him and he’s more than happy to oblige. He also loves it when you wander around in one of his shirts after a shower. It hangs off of your body like a dress and falls to the tops of your thighs so that when you bend he can see the curve of your ass. You know this, of course, and sometimes don’t wear underwear just to drive him that little bit more insane.  

N is for NO (what they will not do)

Again, Daryl doesn’t want to hurt you and he certainly doesn’t want to disrespect you. He also won’t fuck you beyond the safety of settlement walls if he isn’t absolutely sure the pair of you are safe and cannot be see or heard.  

O is for Oral (preferences, skills, etc)

It’s a long time before Daryl feels comfortable enough to let you go down on him which is primarily to do with his low opinion of himself. He already thinks he doesn’t deserve you, why would he think he deserves to experience you like that? He gets in his head, working himself up into believing you think you have to give him head when the reality is you want to. 

Going down on you is Daryl’s favourite thing to do. At first he was a little uncertain, not because he didn’t want to do it but because he didn’t want to disappoint you. He enjoys every part of eating you out from trailing kisses down your body to feeling you writhe under him as he sucks on your clit. He often makes it his mission to make you climax before he can even think about fucking you so that he can feel you pulse against his mouth and lap up your cum like he’s been been without water for days. He’s obsessed with your pussy. He’s sure it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen -- besides your eyes and that sunshine smile of yours, at least. 

P is for Pace

How hard or slow he fucks you depends on the moment and your moods. In the beginning he struggled with keeping a steady pace, but he has always prioritised making you climax first. You find that he is often passionate, sensual, and slow after a tough supply run, as if he’s trying to ground himself and find home within you. Other times, he likes to spend his time teasing you until you’re dripping wet and begging him to fuck you hard into the mattress.

Q is for Quickie (does he like them)

Daryl prefers a real opportunity to have sex over a quickie, but when the opportunity strikes he simply isn’t going to say no. Many of your quickies have occurred in the shower or in the pantry, but you’ve also been known to make use of the barn -- especially when you want the freedom to make a little noise. 

R is for Risk (experimenting, taking risks, etc)

While Daryl is more than willing to experiment, the idea of getting caught by someone mortifies him. It’s too vulnerable and intimate. He’d likely lose his temper immediately if someone were to walk in on you two having sex, especially if they were in a position to see too much of you. 

S  is for Stamina

This depends on a number of things, like the mood Daryl is in and how his day went. Sometimes, he wants it to last because he’s trying to lose himself and find relief. Other times he simply wants to make you feel good for as long as possible, draw orgasm after orgasm out of that pretty mouth of yours. It isn’t often you have enough time in the day to get more than one round in, but when you do it tends to be filthy and carnal and he loves every second of it. 

T is for Toys

Daryl has little to no experience with sex toys which means you’re the one who has to introduce them. He’d rather use his hands or his mouth instead of relying on a vibrator to get you off. Watching you get yourself off, however, is another matter entirely, especially when it’s him you’re fantasizing about and his name you’re whimpering as you fuck yourself in front of him. 

V is for Volume

In his day to day life, Daryl isn’t particularly talkative and this doesn’t change much during sex -- especially in the beginning. He often swears and he certainly grunts and groans, but it’s only later on in your relationship when he’s more secure in himself that he finds himself encouraging you to cum as if making you tremble is what he was put on this Earth to do. 

He loves to listen to you moan and whimper. The louder you are, the better, but since you have to be careful he’s also learned to love trying to keep you quiet so that you don’t get caught. He especially enjoys hearing you say his name and telling him how he makes you feel. 

W is for Wildcard

Daryl isn’t into anything too extreme or unconventional when it comes to sex, however it surprises both of you how into ‘phone sex’ he is when you’re both apart and have no choice but to talk to each other over the radio. You initiated it as a joke, thinking he wouldn’t even try to entertain your nonsense, but he’s soon trying to keep himself from grunting down the walkey while asking you -- in so many words -- to tell him everything you’re thinking, doing, and wearing. 

X is for X-Ray 

It took a long time for Daryl to be comfortable being completely naked in front of you, though that’s more because of the scars on his back rather than his lack of self-confidence. You make him feel good, feel worthy, and he soon forgets how self-conscious he is when he’s with you. 

Y is for Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Daryl doesn’t have the highest sex drive, especially if you want to compare him to his brother, but it doesn’t take much for you to get him hard and desperate to be inside of you. You have a higher sex drive than he does, he might even tease you for it, but he’ll never complain when he gets to hold you close and show you how much you mean to him.

Z is for ZZZs (how fast do they fall asleep)

After sex, Daryl likes to talk to you for a little while or just take in the moment with you in his arms. You might not talk about anything of substance, but he enjoys the calm after the storm. He makes sure that you’re comfortable, holding you close and kissing the back of your neck before he allows himself to drift off to sleep. 

[archxvxd]

Hi fellow Taurus bestie…I’m a long time reader and first time anon 🙈 so I got this idea and I had to share incase you wanna write about it 👀 anyways…I was listening to Slow Down by Chase Atlantic and this time the lyric “she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said oh-kay” stuck out to me and I was like wait a min 🤔✋🏼 what if there was a fic where the guy (I thought of Bakugo/Kuroo/Iwaizumi 🙈🙈🙈) was a singer and the reader is his crush/new gf…?? Anyways!! They’re getting ‘into it’ after a show/concert and she’s like… “if you can fuck as good as you sing, show me.” And he’s like bet and he wrecks her, breaks her back and all that

Anyways lemme know whatcha think bestie…🙈 I was kinda nervous to send this but I was like fuck it lemme do it before I forget and yeah…

A/N: Taurus Bestie🥺 You’re brain is immaculate please. Don’t ever hesitate to send me asks! I love interacting with y’all, I’m just not very good at initiating :(( I love this idea so much and I really thought it fit Iwaizumi well so I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “If you can fuck as good as you can sing, show me.”

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Warnings: spit, oral (reader receiving), daddy kink, impact play, degradation, praising, swearing, hair pulling, choking, creampie, breeding if you squint, heavily unedited bc I hate editing my own smut😔✊🏼

Word count: 2.43k

You and Iwaizumi had been friends since high school, but even so, you had never been to one of his band’s shows before. Sure you had heard him sing many times and you knew he was talented, but this experience, getting to watch him from a VIP box while hundreds of thousands of people were cheering for him and singing along to his music? It was absolutely surreal. You admired how Iwaizumi seemed to belong on that stage.

However, the scene of Iwaizumi singing his heart out was doing things to you. Tonight was the last show of his tour, after that he was planning to go on hiatus for a few months before going back to the studio with his band. This was it. You had backstage privileges, courtesy of the singer himself, and you planned on making your move tonight. When Iwa left for his tour at the beginning of the year you were faced with some surprising feelings.

You realized you missed him more than just a friend should…

The set ended and the crowd was still going wild. You make your way backstage as the band plays a final encore song. When Iwaizumi emerges from the stage, sweat gleaming off of his ink littered muscles you practically salvate at the image. The lead singer immediately sets his eyes on you and makes a beeline towards you.

Iwaizumi doesn’t give you a chance to say anything. It had been over a year since he had last seen you in person and his adrenaline was running high. It was now or never. So he scooped you into his arms and crashed his lips to yours. As soon as the shock passes, you reciprocate his extremely passionate kiss.

Iwaizumi hums in approval at your quick submission and bites your lower lip before pulling away, letting a string of saliva form keep the two of you connected before it snaps.

“Shit, Yn. You know how long I’ve wanted to do that. I missed you so much it was maddening.” He lays his sweaty forehead on yours, pupils blown wide with adrenaline and lust.

You giggle at his declaration. “Missed you too, Haji. Where are you staying?”

A deep chuckle escapes his swollen lips. “At a hotel, Princess. Why?”

“Want you to show me if you can fuck me as good as you can sing.” You grin devilishly and Iwa returns the expression.

The musician opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by one of his band members who has already been eyeing you. “Hey, Iwa! Ya coming to the after party or what?”

Iwaizumi slings his arm over you. “Nah, man. Go on ahead without me. I got a different party to attend.”

The band member chuckles and shakes his head before waving and taking his exit.

You two lead by example and take your own exit.

The second the two of you make it to Iwa’s room, he has you pressed against the wall with his lips attached to yours. His tongue has already made it past your lips, exploring the cavern of your mouth, occasionally dancing with yours. You moan into his mouth, and as much as you don’t want to, you have to pull away for air.

Iwaizumi takes this opportunity to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hands, which were previously holding onto your hips in a bruising grip, move up your torso under your shirt. He makes a delighted chuckle when he notices that you're not wearing a bra.

“Hmm not wearing anything underneath your shirt to my show? Is that why your tits looked absolutely delectable bouncing around while you danced during the concert, huh?”

You whine as his hands grope at your chest and tweak your nipples. “Hah-fuck- wanted you to have something to look at, Haji-“

Iwaizumi cuts you off with a low growl and a particularly pleasing pinch of the nipples. “No. I’m not Haji right now, Princess. Say it.”

You let out a moan at the singer’s insinuation. “Wanted you t-to have something to look at, Daddy.”

“Mmm well you certainly didn’t disappoint, Princess. Had a hard time keeping my eyes off of you.” Iwa chuckles while he lowers himself down to his knees. “Between how cute your ass looks in this short little skirt of yours and your tits I almost lost my damn mind. Messed up a few lyrics thanks to you, Princess.”

You whimper as the singer nips and sucks on your inner thighs. “Fuck- Daddy… Wanted your attention. Didn’t mean to distract you.”

Iwaizumi’s lips are everywhere but where you need him most. He continues to kiss your thighs and lick them and give the occasional bite and suck combo. Your hands find their way to his sweat damp hair and tug, earning a groan and particularly harsh bite from the man below you. You whimper at the singer’s rough ministrations. Your head is thrown back on the wall behind you as Iwaizumi inches closer to where you want him.

“Daddy, please~” You tug on his hair eliciting another groan.

Iwa looks up at you in amusement. “Hmm what do you want, Princess? Gotta use your words, Pretty Baby.”

You huff in frustration but indulge him anyway. “Need your mouth and tongue, please~”

A chuckle can be heard but you’re no longer looking at Iwaizumi. “I’m giving you my mouth and tongue aren’t I. Princess? Is it that you need them somewhere specifically?” Iwa kisses your lower pelvis, just above your clothed clit.

“I- hah- Fuck, Daddy need your mouth and tongue and fingers in my pussy and on my clit. Please, please, please~ Need you s’ ba- ngh~”

Iwa cuts you off by the sting of him ripping your panties apart and diving his tongue into your drooling cunt. The slurping noises he’s making are obscene but you don’t have time to be embarrassed because at that very moment the singer replaced his tongue with two fingers and reattached his mouth to your clit. You moan and tug harshly on his hair, Iwa lets out his own moan that reverberates throughout your entire being.

“Mmh- Fuck~ feels so good, Daddy. S’ much better than my own fingers- Oh my- fu- fuck right there please keep touching me right there, Daddy…”

You're lost in your own pleasure and you don’t even notice the way Iwaizumi is watching you. His eyes gleaming with pride and lust at the thought of you feeling so good because of him. He can feel himself growing uncomfortably hard but ignores the nagging heat pooling in his lower abdomen. His focus solely on making you cum at least once before he lets himself fuck you senseless.

Judging from your increasingly desperate pleas, you were close to giving Iwa what he wanted. Your fists in the man’s hair are clenched so fiercely that your knuckles have turned a lighter shade than the rest of your skin. Your breathing has increased in both speed and volume, moans and whimpers constantly spilling from your lips, keeping you from forming any coherent sentences.

Iwa chuckles and you nearly screech at the sensation that shoots through your body from his amusement. “You gonna cum, Princess? You sound so damn desperate. Sounds like you’re gonna cum all over my mouth, hm?”

It takes everything you have to respond, knowing if you don’t it may not end well for you. “Hah— F-fuck— mmmm gon’ cum— wan’ cum— Daddy~”

“Do it, Princess. I want to drink up all that you got.” Iwa starts curling his fingers inside of you and that’s what does you in. Your back arches and you nearly scream from the sudden burst of white hot pleasure. Iwa doesn’t slow down his ministrations either. His fingers curling incessantly and tongue lapping up everything you have to offer him. Your mind becomes fuzzy and you don’t even register Hajime picking you up and tossing you onto the king sized bed.

In your dazed state you hardly recognize that Iwaizumi is speaking to you until his hand is cradling your cheek. “Hey. Princess. You with me? I need you to tell me you’re good before I move further, okay?”

“Daddy… ‘m good, want you to fuck me now, please~” You sigh at the thought of Iwa filling you up and begin to grow impatient.

Hajime chuckles. “That’s my pretty baby. Can you strip and get on your hands and knees for me, Princess?”

You nod and quickly remove your remaining clothing. You make a show of turning around and arching your back just to wiggle your ass up at Iwaizumi. A low groan can be heard as a result of you teasing the man behind you. Then suddenly your body is jolted forward as you mewl at the impact of Hajime’s palm connecting roughly with your ass.

“Such a fuckin’ tease, Princess. Havin’ your tits out on display, wearin’ that cute lil’ skirt, and now shakin’ your plump ass at me. Hmm,” Iwa caresses the cheek he had just previously assaulted. “ I would punish you if I didn’t wanna stuff this pretty lil’ cunny of yours with my fat cock. Maybe next time, hm? Bet you would like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”

You take in a shuddering breath before responding desperately. “N-no not doin’ it on purpose, daddy. Promise~ Wanna be your good girl please~”

“I think you’re body is betrayin’ you, Princess, the way you just gushed from a single smack to the ass tells me otherwise. I think you like being a naughty little cockslut, hmm, like being punished. But I guess for now we can pretend you’re my good girl, hm?” With that Iwa rubs the tip of his cock up and down through your folds lamenting his previous words of stating just how wet you were for the musician. “You ready for me, Princess?”

Instead of answering you push back into Iwa’s touch and sink the tip of Iwa’s length into your dripping entrance with ease. Large fingers dig into your plush ass to stop you from going further and lull a whimper to pass through your lips. Iwa leans down and growls into your ear. “Such a fuckin’ impatient and bratty little slut, hm? Couldn’t wait for me to put it in. Had to take it upon yourself?”

As Iwa growls into your ear about how much of a brat you are as he’s sinking himself deeper into your pussy. Your eyes roll back into your head. His sheer size alone brings you close to your second orgasm. You can hear breathy curses fall from Iwa’s lips. His fingers dig deeper into your ass as you dig into the pillow you’re whimpering into.

“F-fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking tight. This pretty little cunny is already squeezing me so tight. You that close, pretty baby? Just from me putting my cock in you, fuck that’s so fuckin’ cute.” Hajime releases one of his grips on your cheeks to tangle his fingers in your hair and experiments with a gentle tug. He’s more than pleased with your reaction as your back arches further and multiple whimpers stumble out of you.

The coil that’s been building in your stomach is snapped by Iwaizumi bottoming out with his tip prodding your cervix. You wail and violently clench around the musician as your vision blurs. You’re babbling nonsense while Iwaizumi throws his head back.

“Oh fuck, Princess. You really came from me just bottoming out. Fuck, your such a desperate little cockslut. Feel so good, sucking me in like this-- shit think you got one more in ya my pretty little cockslut?”

You whimper and plead. “D-daddy, please~ Want you to move-- need you to fuck me so good~ Please~”

Iwa amusedly chuckles at your babbling but grants your wish anyway. His hips draw back slowly, allowing you to feel every single throbbing vein on his dick and once he’s pulled out to just the tip he lands a harsh smack to your ass and snaps his hips into you. His rough pace doesn’t let up after that. He’s ramming into you as you cover your screams with the pillows underneath you. Iwa clearly has other ideas, though, as he tugs on your hair to pull you off the slobber stained pillow.

“Shit-- Wanna hear those pretty screams, Princess. Let everyone know that ‘m making you feel good okay?” After no reply Hajime tugs on your hair again,

“Y-yes daddy! You’re making me feel so f-fuckin’ goo’! Gonna make me cum ‘gain- mmmm fuck~” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Iwa brings you up to his chest and changes the angle.

He’s reaching further into you and if it weren’t for his arms securely holding you-- one wrapped around your waist, the other crossed your chest and his hand gripping your neck-- You probably would be thrashing in pleasure. Iwa leans down to place his mouth right next to your ear and growls.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck pretty baby. ‘M so fuckin’ close. You gonna cum with me, Princess? Gonna cream all over me while I fill you up with my cum? Bet you'd like that hm? Your slutty little cunt filled to the brim with my cum?” Iwa moves his hold around your waist to play with your clit.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and let out a silent scream. “Shi- oh my- Fuck, daddy, gon’ cum, want you to cum with me. Cum in me, please! Fuck! Daddy ‘m cumming- shit~ “

You’re seeing stars and screaming incoherently as you vaguely register Iwa’s grunts and sloppy thrusts. His hot seed spurting into you as he rides out both your orgasms. Your vision comes back to you and you feel yourself slump into the musician's hold. You hum contentedly as you feel Iwa begin to soften inside of you.

He peppers you with kisses and nuzzles himself into your neck, causing you to giggle. “Fuck, Princess. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hold ya like this.”

“Hmm what a couple of idiots huh?” Iwa looks up at you and chuckles.

“I guess so,” you squeal as Iwa flips the two of you so you’re on your back with him hovering you, expertly keeping himself inside of you, “we’ve got some catching up to do now don’t we, Princess?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “W-what do you mean? We’re not done?”

Iwa chuckles as he slowly begins to pump himself into you. You whine from sensitivity. “Princess, we’re just getting started.”

Hq!! Permanent Taglist: @katsulovee

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Stubborn Asshole (A Zak Bagans x Reader SMUT)

WARNINGS: Smut, language, possession

Special Thanks: To @xcazzax​ for being an awsome reader and source of inspiration. I couldn’t do this without you girly. 🥰

I love Aaron like a brother, don’t get me wrong, but DAMN HIM FOR BRINGING SUCH AN ASSHOLE INTO MY LIFE!

Douchey McGee: Hey Aaron said to message u.

He said: Get the fuck up Y/N!

Me: Tell him I said thnx and

and 2 not have the douche do

his dirty work.

Douchey McGee: Well fuck u 2 Y/N.

I sighed and crawled out of my hotel bed. We’d flown in late the previous night and I was still exhausted. I showered and got dressed in my ripped black skinny jeans, my black GAC shirt, and combat boots. I grabbed my hoodie and purse on the way out. Downstairs in the attached restaurant the rest of the crew were gathered for breakfast and much needed coffee.

“Morning gorgeous,” Aaron greeted.

“Fuck off Goodwin, I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” I said taking my seat beside him. “And by the way since when is boss man your own personal secretary.”

“And here I thought you didn’t know me as anything but Douche McGee, douche, or my personal favorite: Stubborn asshole son of a bitch.” Zak chimed in.

“Good morning to you too Satan,” I rolled my eyes.

I swear ever since we met Zak has made it his life mission to push my buttons in any way he can. But unfortunately for this psychotic fuck, two can play that game.

“Huh that’s original,” Zak continued.

I rolled my eyes and ordered an omelet with coffee. “So you gonna tell me when you decided to make boss man your bitch?” I asked Aaron.

“Well I figured I’ve been the bitch long enough so…” Aaron said.

“Dude, since when have I ever treated you like a bitch?” Zak asked.

“Every time you forced him to stay in a fucked up room by himself during an investigation like a fucking sadist?” I pointed out.

“Oh...right…” Zak said looking like he felt a tinge of guilt.

“Does that mean I’m a bitch too since he’s been doing the same thing to me lately?” Billy chimed in.

“Unfortunately,” I said just as my breakfast arrived arrived. “Oh, thanks.” I said to the waitress.

“Only you can go from bitchy to bubbly in zero seconds flat,” Zak said.

“Fuck you too, Bagans,” I muttered taking a bite of my omelet.

“Not in this life babe,” Zak muttered taking a sip of his coffee.

It continued like that even in the car on the way to the days location: Bly Manor. According to our sources Bly Manor was built in the 1800’s by Charles Bly, an Irish immigrant who made a fortune selling liquor and tobacco. By the time of the Civil War he decided to try his hand at weapons manufacturing which earned him enough to break ground on his dream house. He lived in the manor with his family. His wife Athena, and his daughter Josephine.

It said that on a sunny afternoon while do work in the Manor’s yard a man by the name of Bishop Wiley showed up and shot him dead. Supposedly Wiley’s son Robert was a soldier in the war and was killed by the very guns Charles helped build.

Charles has since been purported sighted walking the manor grounds. His wife Athena has been seen playing the piano, and wandering the halls. As for Josephine well… she was the most famous spirit of all.

“Josephine has been seen on the balcony of the Red Room,” explained our tour guide as we interviewed her. “The story goes that Josephine had met and fallen in love with a man at a nearby farm. And just before they were due to be married he left to fight in the war. She promised to wait for him there until his return. Hopeful that they could still marry and have a family. Sadly the man lost his life in Gettysburg. Charles felt so horrible he felt the need to keep it from her. So she continued to wait. And continues to wait to this very day.”

My heart ached for Josephine. It’s a whole other level of hell to lose someone so dear… I damn near jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Zak asked.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I said before following the tour guide.

We eventually took a break for lunch and then got ready for the investigation. Unlike most of the crew I made it a habit of carrying a small black backpack. I was just stuffing a recorder, spirit box, and MEL Meter when someone pat my shoulder.

“Hey are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Zak asked again.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m good, um, why the niceties?”

“I may be an asshole sometimes but I do feel for people now and then,” he said.

“Even me?” I arched an eyebrow at him. Before he could answer Aaron barged in needing to grab a spare lens for the camera.

We continued prepping in silence and then slowly but eventually the sun went down and moon shined bright.

Aaron, Zak, and I went in together. We worked together as a group for a while before (in true Zak Bagans fashion) we split up.

“Y/N I want you to stay up here for a while and see if Josephine will communicate with you,” Zak said.

“Alright,” I said stepping out onto Josephine’s balcony. Zak and Aaron disappeared through the Red Room door and I took out my recorder. “Josephine, are you here?” I started. “If so do you think you could answer a few questions for me? I promise you I mean no harm. Just speak into this little device for me.”

I felt a chill in the air but continued. “Why are you still waiting for him?” I asked. “Don’t you think he’s waiting for you on the other side?”

I suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness and anxiety. I slid down to the ground and then... He promised me. I kept thinking for some odd reason. He promised...he promised we’d go...he promised on the stars...he promised we’d be together.

The thoughts kept coming, and I don’t know when it started but I only realized I was crying when I felt someone shake me violently. “Y/N TALK TO ME DAMMIT!!!”

Zak knelt in front of me looking freaked. “D-Don’t ever leave me,” I cried. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“Josephine leave her alone, please,” Zak asked. “I know what happened to you was cruel and unfair but that doesn’t mean she should suffer like this.” Call me crazy but Zak actually sounded kind of pissed. There was another chill and he knelt beside me again. “I’m here  sweetheart…” He whispered brushing my cheek with his hand. “I’m here.”

I looked up at him and saw a face that was not his. His hair was chocolate brown and barely touched his shoulders, his eyes the same. My heart took off in joy and I threw my arms around him. He squeezed me before pulling back and taking my face in his hands. “Promise not to disappear on me again?” I asked.

“I promise,” he muttered before bringing his lips to mine. We kissed passionately as though it was a long time coming. After a while it felt like a weight lifted off me and my legs became limp. “WHOA!”

Zak caught me. It was for sure him this time. I was suddenly more aware of things...more awake. “Zak...what? What happened?”

“I dunno,” he said. “But I’m getting you the fuck out of here.”

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to the GAC van.

“You know you didn’t have to carry me right?”

“Says the girl who just nearly passed out on me,” Zak said setting me down in the back of the van.

“Um Zak did you want us to edit out the last bit of her footage or..?” Billy asked awkwardly.

“Edit it out? Why?” Zak asked. Blushing furiously Billy replayed the footage from the night vision cam we had facing the balcony. It showed me slowly crumbling and then…

“Oh sweet fucking Jesus,” I groaned as Zak and I started making out on screen.

“Uh...yeah I don’t think we need to uh-*cough*-show that,” Zak said turning back to me. “Are you, uh, gonna be okay?”

“Um...yeah I think so,” I said not entirely meeting his eye. “You-uh-you go ahead. I’m just gonna chill with Billy the rest of the night.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Now go before I drag you back in by your balls,” I threatened.

“Oh yeah you’re gonna be fine,” he said turning his back on me.

“You know you two are actually kinda hot together,” Billy said.

“What? Are you high? Zak and I can barely stand each other,” I said.

“Bull-fucking-shit Y/N,” Billy laughed. “We all can see there is insane tension going on between you. We just don’t get why you guys haven’t done anything about it.”

“What are we the hot gossip going around the office or something?”

“I mean, if this almost-porno is anything to go by...then yeah.”

“Billy I swear to God if I catching you jerking off to that—.”

“You’ll cut my nuts off I know,” he finished for me. “Besides I would never in hell jerk off to my best friend and his girl. It’s too weird.”

“I’m not his girl,” I snapped at him.

“Whatever you say Y/N,” Billy laughed. “Now did you wanna review this evidence with me or..?”

And so I did.

Once the investigation ended we packed up, caught a few minutes sleep then made our way back to Vegas.

Billy, Jay, and Aaron were dropped off first. Then it was just me and Zak.

Aaron: Try not to kill Zak please.

Me: No promises.

Zak then pulled up to my place.

“Are we never gonna talk about it?” I asked as he parked.

“What’s there to say?” he asked. “It-It was a freak incident. We-we weren’t ourselves.”

“True you were actually nice for once,” I said sarcastically.

Zak glared at me. “Go fuck yourself, Y/N.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward,” I blurted out. “I mean...um...fuck!” I sighed and stepped out of the car. I had just unlocked my door when…

“Y/N!” I turned around and saw Zak running up to me.

“Wha―” I was cut off by Zak slamming his lips to mine.

He kissed me hard, as though he was relieving an ache deep within his heart. I kissed back and clumsily opened my door. Zak picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carried me to my bedroom. He placed me on the bed and I reached up to pull his shirt off. I tossed it aside and eventually more articles of clothing followed.

Zak laid me back on the bed and started pecking a trail of kisses all the way down to my heat. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed and sucked on me. “HO-HOLY SHIT!”

To say Zak knew what he was doing would be an understatement. He didn’t stop eating me until I was writhing beneath him. “Z-ZAK!” My back arched and my toes curled up in the most powerful orgasm of my life.

He crawled back up to me, smirking. “Not much of an asshole anymore, am I?”

“Oh shut up,” I brought my lips back to his as I ran my hand up and down his length which like the rest of him was thick and hard. I suddenly felt him move my hand before he reached down and placed himself at my entrance. He kissed me once more before pushing in. “FUCK! How the fuck have you been single this long?”

“Demons tends to be excellent cock blocks,” Zak said as he started to thrust. “Lucky for us, they tend to stay away from you.”

“R-Really?”

He grunted then nodded. Despite his big, tough, persona Zak was actually really sensual and passionate in bed. He kept his thrusts gentle (probably because he knew his above average size could inflict some damage if he wasn’t careful) until I urged him to go faster and harder. After a while he flipped us over so that I was on top. I rode him hard, and Zak, being a gentleman, helped me out by thrusting up into me as I did.

The tension began building up inside me. “Fuck...Zak I-I think I’m gonna…” It hit me like a wave. I tightened around him, arching my back, and damn near screaming his name.

Zak flipped us over again and continued thrusting until he grew sloppy. I suddenly felt him twitch inside me as he cursed and groaned. His body shuttered as he painted my womb with his seed. Finally he collapsed beside me, both of us breathless.

“Wow,” I said.

“I know,” Zak said.

Once my breathing was under control I turned to him. “So...what now?”

He looked over at me.

“I guess we just be together,” he said. “It’s kind of what you do when you’re insanely in love with someone.”

“You’re in love with me?” I asked.

“I’ve always been in love with you,” he smiled. “Ever since we met...I just didn’t want the spirits in my life to hurt you so I decided to keep you away.”

“What changed?”

“Besides that they for some reason stay away from you?” I nodded. “I was tired of letting them get in the way of what I want. I was tired of being away from you.” He draped his arm over my waist. “I love you.” He muttered.

“I love you too,” I said pecking him on his swollen lips.

We spent almost every day together after that. It’s been a year and we are still together. Life was the same for the most part. We still investigated places, while not in bed or spending time with each other. The guys were relieved to see us together (at last) until our PDA became a little too much for them to handle. Oh and there was one other difference as well…

“Y/N BAGANS COME GET YOUR MAN HE’S BEING FUCKING TERRIFYING AGAIN!” Aaron shouted at me through the walkie.

“What happened to having the preggo investigator hang back all night?” I asked rubbing my stomach. Zak made everyone swear not to let me into the buildings with malicious spirits and demons.

“Y/N please,” Aaron begged.

I sighed and looked down. “Aaron Nicholas Bagans for the love of god don’t be a stubborn asshole like your daddy.”

With that I exited the van and went to save the love of my life.

[antipodeanpineapplelump]

Dear Starshot, I recently saw your latest artwork for #Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura and I am DYING to learn more about this AU. If you're comfortable sharing, is there anything you can disclose about it?? Is this related to the ItaShi Indiana Jones AU you mentioned before?!!?!?!?!!

Hi Birk, thank you so much for dropping by with this ask! Are you really voluntarily asking me to talk about my current obsession and fanfic baby though? Because I warn you, you may live to regret that!!!

"Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura" is now the official title of my ItaShi Indiana Jones AU. I realise it’s been over a year since I first mentioned it, and it’s still a WIP! Pretty sure that says absolutely nothing good about the speed of my writing, but a lot about how busy my life outside of fandom is. Anyhow, it’s definitely one of those AUs that’s got away on me. I was planning one story initially, but now it’s kind of turned into three (plus a cracky oneshot), and this is just the first.

I’ve planned nine chapters total so far, but the bane of my life is currently number four. It’s sitting at 16,000 words and counting. Succinct writing? I’ve certainly never heard of it… So anyway, I kind of hit a wall there and decided to take a little break to come back with fresh eyes. That’s how I ended up working on the art instead. But I’d say I’m probably about halfway through the first draft (47,000-ish words).

I recently shared the opening scene and my draft cover artwork here. Ummm… what else can I tell you? Madara is the main bad guy, and he’s definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Shisui is an agent of disaster and chaos. Itachi is really… not. So their initial interactions go about as well as you could expect.

All the main characters have extensive back stories. I’m pretty sure you’re already familiar with my Machiavellian worldbuilding tendencies from reading Red Dawn, so it goes without saying I have just as many notes and plans, and as much fleshed out worldbuilding for this story too. And it will take a long time for all of that to be revealed! But the overarching theme is probably found family, which is different to anything I’ve done before.

At this risk of revealing too much, or boring you to tears, I’ll finish with another sneak peek, this time from Itachi’s POV:

When Itachi wakes, there’s nothing to suggest his day is going to be anything but routine.

He gets up at dawn as per usual, eating breakfast at the dining table alone, legs tucked beneath him on a comfortable zabuton. The solitude at this hour of day is something he prefers. It’s the only time the family home is quiet anymore—lacking the cold disapproval of his father’s increasingly judgemental lectures, the anger of his younger brother’s rebellion, or the resigned acquiescence of his mother.

By now, Fugaku should have left for work, and it’s still too early for Sasuke to be awake, given how late he’s been staying out at night. Either to irritate their father, or just avoid him entirely, he’s taken to frequenting the clubs and bars in Osaka. Mostly, he comes home. Some nights, he doesn’t.

More often than not, even when he is home his door is closed, the thumping bass line of some song or another seeping out from beneath it. Likely because he knows this angers their father even more than the leather jackets and spiked punk-rock hair style he now sports.

Part of Itachi has been glad to discover his brother possesses more of a spine than he ever has. But at the same time, Sasuke’s rejection of every last one of their father’s rules has only brought more unwanted scrutiny to Itachi’s far more minor transgressions. It’s as though, having decided his younger child is a lost cause, Fugaku now wants to be absolutely certain his eldest son and heir to the Uchiha family fortune is beyond reproach. To smother him with expectations until he emerges, a diamond from beneath the pressure.

But unbeknownst to Fugaku, Itachi has one flaw he can’t change. And it means that, no matter what, he’ll always be a failure in his father’s eyes.

Sighing, he swallows a mouthful of rice and fish, washing it down with the sweetened barley tea he favours. Pulling this month’s edition of Modern Archaeology across the table, he inspects its glossy cover and promptly chokes on his drink.

The face that smiles up from the page stokes a knot of hot irritation in his gut. Furiously, he skips to the article, skim-reading the text, despite the fact he knows it will only annoy him further.

"An up-and-coming star in the field of archaeology, particularly specialising in South-American cultures, Shisui Uchiha is an increasingly well-known fixture of the San Diego research scene. Curiously for someone so entrenched in the study of history, he is famously reticent when it comes to his own. ‘I did spend my early years in Japan,’ he confirms when pressed. ‘But I haven’t been back in a long time. The United States is my home now.’ Asked about his connection to the famous Uchiha family, he merely winks enigmatically. ‘Never heard of them,’ he says, before asking if we’d like a one-on-one tour of the dig site.

Equally at home in dusty ruins as surfing the palm-lined SoCal beaches, or scaling the cliffs of his native Joshua Tree National Park, he nonetheless shines in group settings too. At the party we attend that evening, to celebrate the opening of a new Aztec exhibit at the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Mexico City, he easily charms the crowd, finishing the night with at least half a dozen new admirers. It’s not hard to see why they like him. A conversation with Shisui is exercise in passion and obscure historical knowledge. Even so, much like the dig sites he frequents, it’s hard to say just how much of what he presents to the world runs more than surface-deep.

His motto in life? ‘Fall seven times, stand up eight,’ Shisui says with a charismatic smile. Where did he learn it? Chuckling, he brushes us off. ‘The school of hard knocks.’

Love him or hate him, one thing is certain—we haven’t seen the last of Shisui Uchiha’s brand of archaeology.”

Hate him, Itachi thinks, sipping his tea viciously enough to scald his tongue and immediately regretting it. Definitely hate. Hate how he’s reckless, impulsive, irresponsible, and doesn’t seem to take a single thing seriously. Hate that it looks like he’s never had to work hard for anything a day in his life—people only too happy to hand him whatever he wants on a silver platter, charmed by a pretty smile. Hate the fact that, despite their shared family name, he’s free to do whatever he likes. Hate the way people flock to him, falling into his orbit—and by all accounts, bed—like it’s somehow inevitable. And hate, most of all, that there’s a small part of Itachi which understands why.

Because hate or love him—and it’s definitely hate—there’s no denying that Shisui Uchiha is, objectively, a very attractive man.

Coming back to his senses and realising he’s been leaning over the magazine, frowning so hard his forehead hurts, Itachi straightens, closing his eyes and massaging the knot of tension out from between his eyebrows.

“Itachi—”

The tension sinks in even deeper. He opens his eyes. “Father.”

Fugaku takes in magazine, then his son, and Itachi really hopes his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel. It’s stupid, but merely knowing he feels the way he does about the man on the page makes him fear being caught. As though his father might somehow divine his deepest darkest secret, just by looking. Truthfully, Itachi sometimes wonders if he might not already know, or at least suspect. But if he does, it’s clearly a truth he’s chosen not to acknowledge.

“I take it you’re prepared for our meeting this evening?” Fugaku asks, grim as ever.

Attempting a composed sip of his tea, Itachi nods. “Yes. Of course.”

Mouth a hard, unyielding line, Fugaku makes some indiscernible noise of disapproval, sweeping an appraising glance over Itachi. “Well, I suppose it’s too much to hope that anything can be done about your hair between then and now. But they’re a modern family. New money. Perhaps it won’t matter so much.”

Fingers tightening into the flesh of his thigh, Itachi has to remind himself to breathe. “I will do my best to make a good impression,” he says, inclining his head towards his father, penitence for his innumerable shortcomings—not least of all the choice to grow his hair out. It’s a small act of rebellion compared to Sasuke’s effort, but one his father seems determined to curtail as promptly as possible.

Poker face easing ever so slightly, Fugaku’s brows trend downwards, though their slant is still severe. “I know. You are my son, after all. And it is high time you were married with a family of your own. Perhaps then you will see the value in giving up these frivolous academic pursuits, and taking your rightful place at the head of the family business.”

He might as well build a box and stuff Itachi into it. Mold him to fit his own vision of the future. But Itachi has long since learnt that what he wishes he could have from life, and what he can have, are two very different things. So, just like his infrequent clandestine trips to the less desirable areas of Osaka’s nightlife, this too, he realises he will have to sacrifice. Duty before self.

“Yes Father, I’m certain you’re right,” he says, bowing once more as Fugaku leaves for work, closing the front door behind him with a click that reeks of finality.

As his footsteps crunch away on the gravel path outside, Itachi can’t help clenching his fists, until long after his knuckles turn white.

Theoretically, it’s a good match. From a family of good standing, his potential bride is quiet and well spoken—the perfect future housewife and mother. Their marriage would kill two birds with one stone, giving her father the son he never had, and Itachi—and therefore by extension Fugaku—control of their biggest competitor’s business.

All it requires is for Itachi spend the rest of his life pretending to be something he’s not.

The weight of it burns tight in his throat, threatening to break free on a rising tide of bile. He longs to cast off his gilded shackles, take a leaf from Sasuke’s book and do something completely crazy.

With a sigh, he rises from the table, collecting his dishes and depositing them circumspectly into the sink. Another day of work awaits.

[darling-archeron]

this is as good a place to fall as any + feysand for the fic request thing? angst would be good (;

ask and you shall receive - i hope you like angst. I may have used this as personal catharsis and it came out as one of the rawest, and, in my opinion, most painful things I’ve ever written. Not super edited, but I hope you enjoy!  <333.

TW for minor mentions of suicide

Music in the Night

It was the end of another infinitely long day, and Feyre found herself on the roof of the townhouse. The same place she had spent lazy nights with Rhysand, curled up with the stars until dawn. They had once promised each other infinite nights like this, filled with love and whispered secrets and lazy touches.

This time, she was alone.

She had gone out into Velaris by herself today, walked the streets, and been with her people in a way that she hadn’t in years. It had left her bone-weary deep in her soul. After the war, when what was left of her family returned to Velaris, she had been too broken by her grief to mingle with her people. The only thing she was aware of was the emptiness of the void in her head where such life had once flowed. The funeral had been hell, numbness coating her mind and tongue when the priestess asked if she would say a few words.

After she had finally picked herself up, convinced herself to keep going, there was so much to be done. Simply going for a walk never seemed to make the list. Mor had kept Velaris running for years, but she didn’t rule the entire court. And Feyre had never run anything of the sort. It wasn’t long after he was gone that she realized how much Rhys had left to teach her, how much he had not known himself. It had been exhausting as she turned all her energy on fixing the Court instead of looking inward at the dark shards within herself.

 Learn as best as she could from Mor and Lucien what it took to rule, to heal rifts with the Hewn City, who barely recognized her as High Lady, and to Illyria, who only began to respect her once she showed what she was capable of. When they had time, she did physical training with Cassian. Continuing to explore the facets of her magic had been harder. The two beings who might have taught her something more about it were gone.

So for the most part, she gave herself over to her court. They deserved that much. It was nights like these when she allowed herself self-pitying, angry, sorrowful moments. Just her, the night sky, and a bottle of whiskey she had swiped from Rhys’s huge stash. The roof seemed as good a place to fall as any. To ask the Cauldron why so much of the good in her life had been taken. To ask why she always seemed to end up alone.

Because Rhys…Rhys had been taken from her. She had loved him with a passion and fury she knew had been called foolish. But the only foolish thing about their love was how she hadn’t seen the end coming, hadn’t realized that he would sacrifice everything he had to heal the cleaved Cauldron. And when Rhys was truly gone, and even trying to bring him back as he had done to her hadn’t worked – she didn’t reflect on those moments. Ever.

She had survived poverty, Amarantha, and being made, the Ouroboros, and the War. She had been born a fighter.

It hadn’t stopped her from reaching for a knife to turn on herself on that battlefield, in moments when everyone else was too distracted. Azriel had only just stopped her, and there were days she could still feel the sharp kiss of the blade on her chest.

Most of the time – most of the time she was glad she hadn’t done it.

A breeze came up, and Feyre shivered. The backs of her thighs were beginning to dig into the roof.

In the emptiness of the weeks that had followed, she found that she hated silence. Because there was never again going to be passed jokes and musings down that bridge of gold. Never again going to be music sent to her in her darkest moments.

The townhouse became emptier as well.

 Amren had sacrificed herself to end the war. Elain had eventually left Night to pursue a life of travel, slowly healing from the horrors she had witnessed. Lucien was building alliances on the continent, though only after he had been convinced that she wasn’t going to fall apart. Nesta…was complicated. She still lived in Velaris, off of accounts Feyre kept filled, but she barely saw her sister anymore. Feyre wasn’t sure which one of them was more broken, some days.

Mor needed out of Velaris too. Feyre knew she was losing her mind. Though no physical wards kept her here as they once had, she couldn’t abandon the duty she had. Because she didn’t think Feyre was strong enough.

Feyre still doubted herself every step of the way. Because in the end, she did blame herself. She had made a bad choice with what mattered the most, hadn’t seen that his final “I love you” was not a declaration, but a goodbye.

He had known what she would want to believe, apparently known her better than she had known him.

She had always been a fool for a happy ending. Had always wanted it for herself. Her mate had helped her believe that she deserved it until she saw it herself. She had been a dreamer in a Court of Dreams.

Feyre watched the city below, taking a swig of the whiskey. There was a revel in the streets a few blocks away, the beautiful, seductive music taking away the emptiness that lingered in her head.

The Night Court needed a strong leader. They deserved someone who dreamt of a better world, who wasn’t falling apart. And as much as she was unqualified, she knew she had to learn. And as much as she had wanted to let the world fall away as she descended into her grief – she had made a vow. To Rhysand, to her people, to herself. To deny that – it would make her an utter failure.

So, she had forced herself to become that person, and learn to lead, to play the games of Court. To heal wounds the war had ripped open. A leader with an iron heart and mask of steel.  

The one thing she couldn’t learn again was how to forgive. She couldn’t forgive Tamlin, or Hybern, or herself. No matter how much Mor and Elain beseeched her. Elain had dragged her to the same mind-healer that she had been seeing in Dawn. Not a daemati – but someone who focused on emotional and psychological wellness. After a few visits, she had stopped going.

She needed closure, Elain had told her. It was easy for her to say. Every inch of this place didn’t remind her of their father. How could you find closure when the wound was ripped open again every day?

Another swig of whiskey and the music grew louder. A sob hiccupped in her throat, and she pushed it down. She wasn’t drunk enough to stop caring yet, and if she started crying now she would never stop.

She wondered how the history books would be written, sometimes. Human and Fae alike. Would the fae praise how she had defeated Amarantha, or as time went on, would the ballads and stories be edited and brushed under the rug to hide how helpless the faeries had really been? Would they tell how she fought her way across that bloody plain, each swing of her sword for a better world?

Would the elegies they painted eulogize Rhysand properly?

Would they tell how she had let him die?

She shook her head violently, strands of hair shaking free from the tight braid she had pulled it back into. She had cut it to shoulder length a few weeks after the war – practically a cliché from one of the books she had read. Since then, she had never let it grow back out.

She wouldn’t let herself think of all she hadn’t done now. She had done that enough – days where nightmares tore her from sleep and she replayed those minutes on the battlefield over and over, trying to find a different way.

 Instead, she thought back to what that healer had told her at the Dawn Court. She had given Feyre breathing exercises she couldn’t remember now, and she had told her that it was okay to talk about them. It had all seemed so useless at the time.

Elain had found catharsis in it, though. She didn’t just talk about their father – she talked to him, she had confided.

Another swig of whiskey – longer, this time. It burned as it went down, and it made her buzzed enough to say what the hell.

“Rhys?” She whispered, so softly. She had never – never spoken to him like this. Screaming his name as she was torn from his arms in every last nightmare, yes. But this - she had always thought it would hurt too much.

“I hope that you’re happy, Rhys.” She knew that he thought he was Lord of Nightmares, that wherever he went after he died wouldn’t be pleasant. It was something she had been working to slowly changed his mind about, making him see that he wasn’t damned.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t stop you – didn’t realize until it was too late. I didn’t find any other way. I know – I know that you wouldn’t have had it any other way. That you didn’t want to stop me. But I’m so sorry and I will never stop regretting and hating myself for it –” Her words broke off with a sob as she finally let the tears come. “And if you can somehow hear this – I just need you to know that I will never stop loving you. And I’m trying my best to fill the void you left behind, to be the leader everyone needs me to be.” For a while, the only sound was her breathing and the distant music as her words were swallowed up by the night.

She sniffed a little. “Do you remember our last night up here? It was just a few days before we left. Did you know you wouldn’t be back?” Another long pause, like she was giving him time to reply. “I’m sure even then you were planning. But I just remember – we were up here, it was a night a lot like this. No wine or lingerie – it was just us, the stars, and the city. I fell asleep up here, in your arms. You told me stories of your adventures years ago. The time you and Azriel got lost in Malwich and – well, I never heard the end of it. I was so exhausted. Do you think Az would tell it to me if I asked him?”   

Silence echoed as the distant song wound down.

“I miss you.” She said quieter than ever, barely a breath. “You spent your last breaths telling me that you loved me…and I never said it back. Because I thought I would have a million more times to say it, and so you never heard it that final time even though I’m sure you knew –“ Snot plugged up her nose and she sniffed again, voice ugly and cracking. “I love you, Rhysand.”

She buried her head in her arms as the music slowly started up again. It slowly grew louder until she could make out a familiar tune.

Feyre could have laughed. It wasn’t the music Rhysand had sent her Under the Mountain. It was an echo of it, an answer to the original piece’s question. The haunting melody and drifting notes filled her head and her soul. They chased out the awful silence and made her feel new, if only for a moment.

She recalled back when she was human, laying in her cell as that music floated down. She had drifted somewhere in the clouds, seen faces she couldn’t make out. Just as it had been then – as she gazed out at the unclouded sky, she could have sworn she saw Rhysand peering back at her with love in his eyes – for just a moment.

Perhaps just a trick of her eyes, of a desperate soul. But as she gazed up at those bright stars, she didn’t stop the tears from falling.

I love you, Rhys. 

She stayed out there long after the music had died down until she could see a hint of dawn’s rosy hue rising over the Sidra. The memory of the song echoed in her head, keeping the silence at bay.

[soundsof71]

So, considering you are a passionate fan of music released in 1971, I feel justifiably obligated to ask you what you think of Buffy Sainte-Marie's 'She Used to Wanna Be a Ballerina' album. 😂 (Also, it would make me beyond happy if you could post more about Buffy, my friend! Thank you! ❣)

Buffy Sainte-Marie + Crazy Horse - what’s not to love? LOL I confess that it was the Crazy Horse connection that caught my attention first. I had a general idea who Buffy was, had seen her on TV a few times, but I was a big Crazy Horse fan. News that they were her backing band for this album was easily enough for me to scoop it up.

They weren’t doing anything much with Neil Young in 1971 (other than this album, on which Neil also appeared!), but they had released a tasty solo album in February 71, produced by Jack Nitzsche (who also produced this, and would later marry Buffy), and featuring Ry Cooder (also featured here, although did not marry Buffy). 

(btw, the first place that Buffy, Ry, and Jack worked together was on the Nic Roeg film Performance, starring Mick Jagger. People obviously remember Mick in that, but musically, Buffy was the best part!) 

She Used To Wanna... also features Jesse Ed Davis, a Native American guitarist and singer who was a frequent “usual suspect” at these sort of “sure, invite everyone!” jam albums of the era, and played a prominent role at 1971′s biggest concert (at least in the US), The Concert for Bangladesh on August 1.

(I know you know  RUMBLE: The Indians Who Rocked The World, the documentary about indigenous music’s influence on rock and roll, which has chapters on both Buffy and Jesse Ed. I just watched it again recently, and love it! A reminder of Buffy’s pivotal role in classic rock history. Not mentioned in the film: she relentlessly championed the work of her fellow Canadians Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen, helping them get their first record deals.)

I haven’t listened to She Used To Wanna Be A Ballerina for a while, so I definitely need to do that, along with posting more pictures of Buffy.  (I can’t believe I’ve only posted two!) 

But I’ll tell you what still stands out to me about that record years later. “Smack Water Jack” is an underrated track from Carole King’s Tapestry that got a ton of airplay at the time. Quincy Jones did an instrumental cover as the title track for his terrific 1971 album, too, but it has somehow faded to obscurity since then. Buffy takes a playful trifle, and turns it into a powerful fable of men of color who explode into violence in response to the violence visited upon them, and self-satisfaction of whites in authority who answer their demands for better living conditions by killing them on the spot. 

No need for a trial when you can murder them in the streets, right? “You can't talk to a man when he don't wanna understand / And he don't wanna understand” hits different when Buffy sings it, and in 2020 for that matter. 

It’s also just a terrific performance whose combination of soul and rock and roll and driving piano in a sort of Old West-sounding context would have made this sound right at home on a record like Elton John’s Tumbleweed Connection  or something by The Band. I’m limited to five video embeds per post so I can’t embed it here, so I'm linking instead: anyone who hasn’t heard this definitely needs to.

Her cover of Neil’s CSNY track “Helpless” has things I like even better than Neil’s original, including Merry Clayton standing in for CSN. Buffy’s version is more muscular (thanks again to Crazy Horse), and taps even more deeply into the isolation of the song that the star power of CSNY somewhat obscured. 

Buffy’s version also made a brief but memorable appearance in the 2018 film Hotel Artemis, starring Jodie Foster. A weird little movie that I loved maybe more than it deserved LOL but I recommend nonetheless:

I know that this album gets attention because of the unusual number of covers, including one by Leonard Cohen, and a cover of a cover that Leonard had made famous on top of that, called "Song of the French Partisan” (hers is the far superior version imo, a song of French resistance to Nazi occupation from the perspective of a woman hiding a resister), but there are a couple of standout originals too. 

I love the title of this record, and the title track is a delightful little stomper that playfully cautions against equating the intentions of grown women with the childhood fantasies they’ve grown out of. More Merry Clayton goodness here on backing vocals too. 

“Soldier Blue” is a powerful song first written for the 1970 film of the same name, billed at the time as “The most savage film in history” -- and maybe it was. It used the 1864 Sand Creek Massacre as a metaphor for Vietnam, and it's still shockingly brutal. It was the third-highest grossing movie in the UK in 1971, though, and the single became a top-10 hit for Buffy there. 

It didn’t do as well here, either the song or the movie. Perhaps not shockingly in retrospect, Soldier Blue was pulled from American theaters after a few days, the Vietnam metaphor not at all lost on the Nixon administration. 

As horrifying as it was, this is about when I was reading Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee (first published in 1970), and Soldier Blue resonated with me in a whole lot of ways. Here’s the song in the opening credits of the movie.

I was also really struck by “Moratorium”, which is the story of “Universal Soldier” (from her 1963 debut, but a bigger hit for Donovan in 1965), coming from the opposite direction. In the earlier song, she blamed war on the soldiers who think that fighting is honorable, but here, she has empathizes with the young men, boys really in many cases, who’ve been lied to by their countries, their parents, and even their friends. They’re not vainglorious. They’ve been duped by people they trusted. 

(I don't think she takes enough into account how many men sign up to fight because they want to embrace and celebrate their worst, most violent impulses, which was of course an undercurrent of “Universal Soldier”, but I appreciate her empathy here. More than one thing is true at a time.)

Buffy goes even farther, though, calling on soldiers to support and validate demands for peace as explicitly supporting them, summed up in the unforgettable cry, "Fuck the war and bring our brothers home!" 

1971 was the peak of antiwar demonstrations in the US, with the biggest crowds ever seen in this country until the 2017 Women’s March. The May 1971 demonstrations pretty much shut down Washington, culminating with Vietnam Veterans Against The War throwing back their medals on the steps of the US Capitol, incredibly powerful stuff to see on TV in my formative years, and Buffy was right there in it. Anti-war songs were a cottage industry for sure, but nobody was writing with the nuance and empathy that Buffy was.

Here’s a 1972 performance of “Moratorium”, Buffy and a piano, and more emotionally bare than that:

There’s obviously lots more to say about Buffy, far outside the realm of protest music that was actually just a small part of her musical palette -- her pioneering experiments with electronic music, her educational philanthropy starting in her 20s, Sesame Street, you name it. Her commercial peak was still in front of her, and while I can’t say that this is my favorite of her records, it does have some of my favorite songs of hers, and 1971 and She Used to Wanna Be A Ballerina is definitely where I went from knowing who Buffy Sainte-Marie was to being a fan. 

I'll also note as I do now and again that while this blog started as an offshoot of a book on 1971 that I’d started but abandoned, I mostly listen to music released now. That’s always been my policy, including in 1971. When 1972 rolled up, I was mostly listening to music from 1972, music from ‘80 in ‘80, ‘91 in ‘91, 2018 in 2018, etc., to name just a few other favorites. (Plus The Beatles, okay? LOL I still listen to The Beatles every day. No apologies.) Honestly? It took me until 2011, in my fifties, when a whole bunch of 40th anniversary editions of 1971 albums got released all at once that made me think, “Wait a minute, this was maybe THE pivotal year in classic rock history!” 

So yeah, the historian in me dug into 1971, but even though I happened to be alive and enthralled by music in that year, what I’m doing here has nothing to do with nostalgia, or any idea that that was the *best* year in music, even if for the narrow slice of music that is classic rock, yeah, it absolutely is. For soul/R&B too, and for the explosion of women artists outside the even narrower confines of pop as well. This is not subject to debate. No year like it, before or since. It's just that classic rock is a such a narrow slice, and I like my slices wide. LOL Which is also why my blog has less and less 1971 content as I go along. 

While my general policy is that my favorite year for music is THIS year, this particular year hasn’t left me as much energy as usual for listening to music. Some of it is These Trying Times™, some of it is my bipolarity and schizophrenia getting the better of me in waves, as is the way with these, uhm, things. (Keep taking those meds, kids!) I listen to music and post about the people making it as a creative act, not a passive or reflexive one, and I just haven’t felt as creative as usual.

(This is also has everything to do with why so many Asks have been piling up unanswered. I apologize if you’re one of the many kind and indulgent souls who’s gotten in touch, but I swear I’m gonna get to ‘em all!)

To get an idea of what I’m ACTUALLY passionate about right now, my “to be edited later” running list of 2020 favorites randomly added to a playlist as I encounter them, to be properly curated later, is at Spotify, cleverly entitled “2020″ -- 94% women, which is about right. LOL 

But since I do in fact listen to old stuff (by which I mean 2019 LOL), I made a list of mostly 2020 bangers from women rockers with some tasty treats from 2019 that I haven’t been able to let go of just yet, inspired by a post I saw at tumblr saying that punk music by women is just plain better (also beyond debate), called “Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam”. I’ll be posting an essay with a YouTube playlist soon, because god forbid that I only talk briefly about anything LOL and most of these women need to be heard AND seen.

Like Buffy Sainte-Marie, whom you'll both see and hear more often on my blog soon. Thanks for the reminder! Always a pleasure to hear from you and be challenged by you. :-)

Peace, Tim 

[satsuki2406]

Dear Aomi Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"I've seen you in a dream before, you are the warm and bright presence that embraced me on Cape Kamui a long time ago on a June afternoon."

Shinohara (Y/N) is a normal girl who had everything she could ask for, a loving family, a beautiful home, friends, and a fluffy cat. For a long time, she gave her life and happiness for granted, never imagining that she'll face one of the worst and crueler facades of society so closely, destroying what once was a happy, harmonious and normal family. One day, in hopes to recover what they lost, the Shinohara family took one of the more difficult decisions of their lives; leave behind their home back in Hokkaido and travel hundreds of miles south until Musutafu, the place that could grant them a solution and help close the yet fresh wound and scare away the ghosts of the past. Hardheaded, passionate, and ambitious (Y/N) is forced to confront the incarnated face of the superhuman society that she hated the most; Bakugou Katsuki.

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Dark Themes, My poor attempt of humor, Strong language (Courtesy of King Lord Explosion Murder God *********💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: School is a Great Place to Make Enemies

Chapter 2: My Stupid Classmate, The Angry Dandelion

Chapter 3: In Conclusion, This Day Was...

Chapter 4: Welcome to the Neighborhood 

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

✒A/N:

OH-EM-GEE-

It's really been a while since I updated this story, I really thought it was a couple of months ago, I’ve been very busy lately and just kept pushing writing for later, and later transformed into 8 months! I had to admit that I also had a huge block with this story, but recently I got a lot of inspiration and energy, chapter 6 is almost ready but editing needs to be done after all. Hopefully this would be a good one! There’s more details coming in future chapters and also new characters! I got a thing for OCs recently, I feel they add more personality to the story!

Enjoy!

o(*°▽°*)o

5: Aldera Chronicles

‘Just a good day’ That was what you prayed, asked for last night, and what you tried to repeat to yourself to keep calm and serene while you looked desperately for your earphones. As soon as you did, you connected them to your phone and searched for the loudest song you kept in your collection.

“Oi! I’m talking to you dumbface!”  

The loudest one of all.

After the whole ‘neighbors fiasco’ you got stuck with Bakugou on your way to school, both of your mothers insisted that you should go to school together at least today, so you could ‘amend your differences and get closer’ you almost gag at the suggestion, but your mom looked so ecstatic about the idea of you making new friends, after all she hasn’t looked that excited in a while, so you could not find yourself saying no to her.

Although you ‘accepted’, that didn’t mean that you will stay with him all the way to school, right now you were still in their field of vision, so if you left him behind, they will notice. You were just waiting for the perfect moment, as soon as you made it to the end of the street and turned to the left, you will take that as a cue to hop on your bike and leave him behind eating your dust.

“What a shity morning, stuck with this idiot. That friking hag threaten me to change the wifi password if I didn’t come and to top it off, she had the fucking nerve to take my phone, fan-fucking-tastic…” Bakugou was right in front of you grumbling angrily and throwing profanities left and right. His anger was more than evident; he was more hunched over than normal; his hands were way deeper in his pockets to the point you thought he could rip them open and his feet were stomping on the ground with such intensity that you could almost feel it vibrate under your own.

Despite the fact that you could not see his face, you could bet your (F/C) post-its that there was an extra deep scowl and curled pouty lips ‘decorating’ his face right now. You tried to distract yourself with your phone and avoid Bakugou as much as possible, it was bad enough to spend more time with him than you already did in school, not to mention that unwanted encounters may become commonplace being next-door neighbors.

You sighted dejected at the thought, you really were kind of excited about moving to a new city, Musutafu was way bigger than Sapporo was, with bigger malls, parks, shops, restaurants and more fun things to do. But sadly for you, Bakugou manage to crush your hopes and expectations as soon as he opened his mouth, hell, even by existing actually.

Your attention was snaped back to reality when the sound of cars passing by and other students came to you. You got on your bike again, getting in front of Bakugou so you could reach the avenue faster, “Oi! Don’t go in ahead of me dumbshit!” You ignored him as he yelled at you, his words more and more inaudible as you got farther.

After a few minutes you had lost him completely, he probably went the opposite direction to the bus stop or the train station, Aldera was close, but not enough to go walking, you did it there in twenty five minutes with your bike if you took your time, fifteen if you were in a rush, you made sure to verify how long it would take you to get there the days prior that you had to actually go back to school.

You decided to relax and enjoy the view of the city and listen to your favorite songs like the day before. Luckily the Tatooine Station was open, safe and working at its fullest.

“Not a single villain in sight, phew, how good that they managed to clear the area otherwise I would have had to…” Suddenly memories of your crossing trough Dump Beach™ came to you, that was an experience you were so willing to don’t repeat ever again. “I wonder who else from my school had to make a detour like me yesterday, or if someone was involved in the incident… those ladies said it was a middle schooler, but it’s quite ambiguous data to make any conclusive statements, there are hundreds of middle schools in Musutafu and the commercial district is in the center, so it could be anyone.”

You stopped in front of a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. ‘I’ll ask Midoriya if he knows something else, he probably passed by or something’. You had to admit that you were kind of excited about the idea of befriending the green head, even with his nervous, anxious, jumpy and shy personality he gave you a kind and sweet vibe. His insecurity gave away his true nature; his clumsiness, the nervousness, overanalyze everything, the mutter, for some they could be annoying but you found it rather and oddly fascinating, it made him feel real, genuine and honest.

‘He’s almost like…’

The chirping sound of the traffic light snapped you out of your rampant thoughts announcing that the light had finally turned green. You started off with your bike along the rest of the pedestrians and continued on your way to the school.

The rest of the way to Aldera passed without any hitch, you left your bike locked and took your stuff to walk to the shoe lockers like yesterday, just a few feet ahead you distinguish a very familiar mop of green curly hair. He seemed slightly hunched and deep in thought, probably way too deep in thought to the point that you could see a colorful smeared aura surrounding him and the word mutter coming out of his mouth. And you were not the only one, as you could see the people around walking away, with slightly perturbed expression on their faces. You just took it as a cue to let your presence being known.

“Good morning Midoriya!” You hopped by his side and greeted him enthusiastically. The poor thing almost had a heart attack and jumped out of his own skin as you just scared the shit out of him. He released a muffled scream and seem to calm down a tiny bit to immediately turn the shade of a tomato and babble a greeting.

“G-G-G-G-G-Good mo-morning Shinohara-san! You-You-You caught me by su-surprise.” He squeaked as he covered his face with his arms and his eyes moved erratically to look everywhere but you.

“Did I scare you? I’m sorry! I guess I let myself go a little bit.” You trailed, resting a palm against your nape.

“Oh nonono! Please don’t apologize! Y-Y-You were been courteous after all. He whispered breathlessly at the end fidgeting his fingers nervously. “I…nobody ever greets me or says good morning, I didn't expect it and that's why I got a little nervous. T-That’s all, so don’t worry.” His little confession shocked you for a moment, it was really depressing to be honest but it motivated you at the same time.

You beamed confidently at him, “Well Midoriya, I recommend that you get used to it then, because I intend to greet and say goodbye to you every day without fail from now on.”

He looked up at you with a surprised and somewhat puzzled expression, his fingers started to twitch nervously, his countenance became even redder if that was even possible.

“B-B-B-B-B-But Shi-Shinohara-san-!”

“Shush, shush, shush! I am not going to put it up for discussion this is how it’ll be from now on and it's over.” You placed your hands on your hips, a slight scowl adorning your face to accentuate your mock annoyance. “Besides, who will run away from Bakugou with me after I tell him how much of an asshole he is for the umpteenth time in a row?”

You relaxed your demeanor again, offering him a goofy smile, so he could notice that you weren't even mad to begin with. The poor greenette thought for a smidgen that he made you angry and that worried him profusely. But one glance at you told him that you were being sincere, he was scared that you could be trying to play a prank just to make fun of him as it has already happened to him so many times. that alien feeling of relief and tranquility invaded his chest, apparently the chance encounter he had with his childhood hero had been a good omen and brought him more good things that he could imagine.

His eyes teared up with hope and a squiggly smile adorned his face, he dried his tears with his gakuran sleeve and clenched his fists excitedly.

“So, what do you think?” you asked eagerly.

“I look forward for it!”

.

.

“Did you see what happened yesterday at the commercial district? It seemed pretty rough” You commented to Midoriya absentmindedly while you took your uwabaki from your locker. He visibly flinched as he heard your question almost dropping his shoes in the process.

“Ye-Yeah, they said that the pro heroes could hardly put up a fight because of the villain’s quirk.”

“Right? Hopefully All Might was nearby, otherwise who knows what would have happen. I wonder if the hostage is ok, I didn’t watch the news last night so I’m not pretty sure what exactly happened. Do you know how it was?

He flinched again and turned his head to you rigidly as you raised an eyebrow at his sudden odd behavior.

“I do-don’t know a lot but I read that everything was ok afterwards, the hostage walked out with just a couple of scratches, so there’s nothing to be concerned about Shinohara-san, it’s pretty nice of you to worry so much, especially since the hostage…” Midoriya looked down and tapped his trembling indexes together; he wanted to tell you something, but didn’t know how.

“Come on Midoriya, you already told me the hostage is ok, what can be so bad that you are hesitant to tell me?” You inquired him softly.

“Is nothing bad per se, well, you’ll see the hostage…” He paused and looked in all directions to check if anybody was listening. Ok, weird. He got a little closer to you and cupped his mouth with his left hand.

“The pe-person captured yesterday was-”

Your little hush-hush conversation was interrupted when the metallic sound of a locker being abruptly opened echoed in the sudden silent space. Your ears located the unexpected noise behind you and instinctively you turned to see what had caused such a ruckus.

A couple of lockers from you, a really angry and really frustrated Bakugou appeared right in front of your eyes. You observed how out of the blue everything and everybody seemed to freeze in time, and all eyes were on him. The atmosphere turned tense, every person there watched attentively his every movement, talking with just a glance, some people were whispering among themselves no even taking their eyes off him.

‘What the hell is happening?’

He took his uwabaki and slammed them on the floor, removed his shoes and buried them unceremoniously in the locker, slamming the door shut. He grumbled, trying fruitlessly to put his uwabaki, cursing that he couldn't put them on as smoothly as he would’ve liked. He suddenly stopped his movements, acknowledging the unwanted attention he was receiving.

“The hell are you looking at you fucking losers?! Why don’t you mind your own damn business, huh?!”

His voice echoed with fury at the school entrance, despite their obvious fear, nobody moved an inch, all the eyes glued on him. He finished to put on his shoes and stomped further inside. At the corner of his eye he noticed your presence and immediately stared at you, he seemed even more infuriated than before, this clearly soured his mood even further, if that was even possible.

You returned it with one of your own, as intense or more as his, the attention seemed to turn your way as your little staring contest became longer, Midoriya nervously looked between you and him, probably waiting for another showdown to break out, just like yesterday. Everybody’s breath hitched by the minute, but you didn’t back down, your (E/C) eyes met the fiery inferno of his crimson ones, after a couple more seconds he just tsked and stomped away with his hands buried way deep in his pockets.

After he left, the clock started ticking again, everyone took a breath of relief, averted their eyes from his retracting back and continued their lives like always. Midoriya’s shoulders relaxed significantly at the time that his soul slowly returned to his body. When you noticed him more calmed and focused, decided to address the elephant in the room.

“What. The. Heck. Just. Happened?” You whispered bewildered. “Who peed on his cereal? If this is something usual here, I’ll be more than glad to take my bike and go all the way back to Sapporo.” You crossed your arms over your chest and stared irritated at his retracting back.

“Well, now that Captain McTantrum™ left, what was that you wanted to tell me about yesterday’s incident?” You asked relaxing your demeanor to something more gentle and friendly. Midoriya flinched slightly and his poise appear suddenly uneasy.

“Um, well, the person-the-the person th-th-that got trapped by the mud villain, tha-tha-that person…” Midoriya tried over and over but it was useless, he couldn’t complete a single sentence without stumbling over his own words. Noticing that using his words would be useless, he looked at you in the eyes to then wander his gaze, pointing to something behind him. You started at him completely lost while he kept repeating the same cycle of looking at you and then looking away, urging you to get what he was trying to say, not moving his head once, like he was unsure to look back.

You exanimated what was at his back; just a couple of students walking to their respective classrooms, friends greeting each other, and Bakugou turning to the right at the end of the corridor to go upstairs-

‘Wait, Bakugou?’

Then it hit you, the awkward silence when he arrived, the unwanted starring, the murmuring, his more than usual foul mood, the outburst, Midoriya’s reluctance to tell you, he probably though he would get into trouble with him if it reached his ears that stupid Deku was talking shit of him to thief bitch. Everything made sense now. You broke out of your trance and looked at Midoriya “Was Bakugou?-” He eagerly nodded his head, satisfied that you finally understood him.

“Oh, I see…”

“Y-Yes…”

“…”

“…”

“HOLLY SHIT-”

.

.

With the issue clarified and only five minutes left before the class started you two proceeded to go upstairs as well. Midoriya and you made small talk with some intervals of comfortable silence here and there, soon enough you both reached your classroom, people chatting lively when you opened the door. Midoriya walked in just behind you as you made it to your designated seats.

‘If I’m not wrong, Math is our first class of the day’ your mind wandered to other school related topics while you seated at your desk, just as you did the bell ringed and your teacher entered the classroom and started his lesson of the day.

.

.

Midday finally came, which mean it was finally lunch time, you invited Midoriya beforehand to eat with you, he timidly accepted, after a lot of nervous quacking but you could tell he seem excited about the idea. As soon as the bell that announced the so waited lunch break ringed, you proceeded to pack your books and stationery into your bag and take out your bento when your desk was crowded by what it looked like to be all the girls in your class. One of them, a girl with short brown hair and blue eyes was the first to approach you.

“Hey Shinohara! Do you want to have lunch with us? We didn’t actually have the chance to talk yesterday and we thought it would be nice to know you better.” She spoke.

“Yuki-chan is right! Is refreshing to have another girl in the class after almost three years since we are very few, with you we are eight now!” Said another one of them visibly thrilled.

“You looked so cool yesterday when you confronted Bakugou!”

“I think nobody has managed to do that and live after it, or actually do it”

“Right?!”

“So awesome!”

They gave you a really kind and chill vibe, chatting and praising you animatedly. Although they seemed to really enjoy Bakugou’s antics against your green head classmate, well, nobody's perfect, noted. You can’t judge the book by its cover, but when you looked at them, it’s impossible to not think about…

The offer is almost irresistible.

Almost.

“That sounds lovely! But Midoriya and I agreed to have lunch together today, so I’m afraid we’ll have to leave it to another time.” You almost cringed at how cutesy and honeyed your voice sounded but they seemed to buy it, until their expressions made a 180. Their faces were shocked and almost offended at the thought of you putting him over their proposal. It was a ‘are you for real?’ reaction over all. You kept smiling at them to emphasize that you were serious, when the girl that talked first tried to dissuade you.

“B-But why don’t you eat with us today and leave your lunch with him for tomorrow? I’m sure Midoriya won’t have a problem, right?” She turned and looked at him just as the rest of the girls did after she, Midoriya flinched nervously holding his bento at the unexpected attention he was receiving.  

“Eh…! I…! Well… Um…”

“You see! He’s ok with it!”

‘He hasn’t even said a thing!’ You thought trying to conceal your disbelief. ‘Let’s put all the beef on the grill then’

“Oh, I got an idea!” You chimed. “Midoriya! Why don’t you join us for lunch too? That way nobody eats alone and we get to know better! It’s a win-win plan! What do you think?” You were not dumb, although it was true you can’t judge anybody by a simple glance, you had a somewhat firm idea of why they were so eager to mingle with you, so you just did what you thought it was necessary to make sure it was not that, and what a better way than with your nerve-wreck of a friend.

‘What a better way to know someone’s character than by the way they treat others?’  

The poor guy looked like he was about to have a seizure and your classmates were not any better; they looked at you even more astonished than before, and you could swear that they started to sweat. Suddenly they look to be hesitant, even the more insistent one. They looked at you, at each other and then at Midoriya.

“I-I think you are right, it wasn’t very nice to insist after you already had plans with…Midoriya, I guess we can leave it for another day.” The others seem to agree, a bit crestfallen but relieved nonetheless.

‘I knew it…’

They shortly left after that; you kept your friendly smile until they finally disappeared behind the door, when they were out of your view completely you let your smile fall and collected your lunch from your desk. You marched to the door, but stopped midway when you noticed that certain someone was still standing lost in his own world, mumbling nonsense as usual.

“Midoriya” You called him, he seemed to have got out of his trance and looked at you eyewided, confused and bewildered.

“Huh?”

“Are you coming or what?” You said smiling.

He stared at you genuinely surprised, but he swiftly shook his head and walked towards you.

“Yes!”

“A-Are we going to eat outside?” he asked curiously.

“I mean, it’s a beautiful day the temperature is perfect and this would actually be the first time ever that I had the chance to be outside in early April without freezing my butt. Do you have any place in mind?”

“No, I-I always eat by myself, so I prefer to stay in the classroom” He answered somewhat ashamed.

“Its ok, I know the perfect place.”

[moon-in-daylight]

Jealousy / Dhawan!Master x reader

Summary: When Missy died, you thought it would be a good idea to travel with The Doctor to keep yourself busy and your thoughts away from the one you had lost. Now that you encounter The Master’s new incarnation, you have a decision to make, and The Master a few questions for you.

Words: 3116

Warnings: Jealousy, teasing, dirty talk? (Nothing too graphic. In fact, it’s not really dirty, let’s say suggestive instead)

A/N: So I’ve been out of inspiration for a week or two but I finally got myself to write something. I’ve not edited this so probably it has some mistakes, sorry for that.

The moment you saw the humanoid-shaped aliens hover over The Master, you quickly took a step forward and tried to grab his hand. You knew it was a stupid thing to do, considering that he was probably mad at you for helping The Doctor and blowing his plan of destroying humanity. You were fighting on opposite sides now, but that would never stop you from try and helping him if needed it. Yet, deep down you knew your little act of bravery was useless. It was obvious that you couldn’t prevent the Kasaavin from taking him, and by touching him you would only be giving the light-made aliens the chance of trapping you in their parallel universe as well, putting you in unnecessary and senseless danger. Not that you really thought or care about your well-being in that moment. You weren’t thinking rationally as you extended your arm towards him, as you tried to make sure he knew you were still by his side. Truth was, you hadn’t been thinking straight at all that day. Not since you had discovered O’s true identity.

All that mattered to you in that precise second was to help The Master, even if it was only by grabbing his hand and showing him your support and affection. After all the time you had been apart, and just by seeing the painful look in his eyes after being stuck on Earth for 77 years, it was clear that he needed it more than ever. It was painful to think about all the time he had spent alone, to think about all those nights that you had spent mourning him while he still was alive. Now that he was in front of you, you weren’t planning on letting him go again.

But before your fingers could reach his, you felt yourself being pushed back by a sudden grip on your wrist. After watching the Time Lord disappear in front of you with a blinding flash of white light, you turned to The Doctor, whose hand held you tight in place.

“Let me go!” You struggled to let yourself free, willing to throw yourself to the Kasaavin in hopes of getting reunited with The Master. Chances were you wouldn't even end up in the same place he was sent to, but you were willing to take that and any other risk now that you had the chance of getting him back.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” The astonished voice of Yaz called your name.

None of the other companions knew the history between you and The Master. You had never trusted any of them enough to tell them your backstory, and since Missy had died long ago, you had never thought it would be necessary for them to know any of it. After O’s reveal in the plane, you supposed it would have been the time to mention something to them, but after giving it a little thought, you finally decided it was best for them not to know about your feelings for him. The last thing you wanted was to create an uncomfortable ambient between you and the rest of the group because of your little ‘conflict of interests’.

None of that mattered the slightest now. You had the chance of going back to him and you no longer cared about what they thought of the fact that you were in love with The Doctor’s best enemy.

“How could you?!” You ignored everyone else in the room as you looked at The Doctor in the eye, your features showing nothing but hatred and frustration. “You told me Missy died!”

“I did believe she was dead.” She assured you under the confused looks of the rest. You gave her a suspicious look, not being sure if you could trust her anymore. “Y/N, I would have never told you that if I hadn’t believed it was true.”

You felt tears forming in your eyes as you remembered how The Doctor’s past regeneration had brought you the news that had shattered your entire life. You hadn’t been with Missy more than a few months, not as much as you would have liked to, anyway. It had been a short but intense time, traveling in her TARDIS and assisting her in any other mischief she planned.

Chaotic, fun and passionate… But ephemeral. That’s what your relationship had been like, what you still hoped you could get back.

You had spent more time apart than together now, but you remembered how special the bond between the two of you were. How it had taken so little time and effort to make her a very important part of your life, if not the most.

When she was taken away from you, you felt like a part of you had died with her too.

You felt deeply lost, trying to picture what the rest of your life was going to be without her. You supposed you had no option but resign yourself to go back to Earth, grieve her and then try and keep on with your life. You weren’t sure you could get over her, especially on your own, but then the past incarnation of The Doctor offered you a place in his TARDIS. It wasn’t ideal, but it was best than staying home crying all day. And, even though you had a rough time adjusting to the companions that came and went and to the way she managed certain situations, you had eventually learned to travel with her. More than that, you were even starting to enjoy it.

You were quite fond of her at this point, but not enough to choose to stay with her if you had the chance to go back with The Master.

“Let me go to him.” You insisted, looking at the aliens that remained in the room. They were disappearing one by one, and with them your only chance of finding him again.

“Y/N…” The Doctor stared at you in disbelief when she understood what you were still planning to do, realizing how desperate you truly were. She had figured when The Master had revealed himself that it would affect you somehow, but not until the point of sacrificing yourself for him. Now, she realized that you were not over Missy at all. “You’re taking a step into the unknown. It’s not safe to-”

“I don’t care about safety!” You quickly cut her off. “I wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t let them take him!”

“Y/N, he’s not the person you once knew.” She warned you, repeating your name once again to try and make you see reason. “This incarnation may be previous to Missy. He may not even know you yet… And even if she survived and regenerated into him, it only means he decided to never come back for you. He may not feel the same for you anymore.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you took into consideration The Doctor’s words.

No, he wasn’t previous to Missy. You could tell by how he had looked at you, by the way his eyes had lingered on you more than necessary when introducing yourselves, by his incessant attempts to get closer to you while still being undercover as O. He had been especially interested in you since the first moment, taking any chance he could to go talk to you and showing a particular interest about the nature of your relationship with The Doctor. You had first mistaken those signs as an effort of innocent flirting by the shy agent, but knowing his true identity also exposed his true intentions. He was trying to find out how you had ended up in her oldest enemy’s TARDIS.

He did know you, but then again, The Doctor did have a point when she said he might not feel the same for you anymore. At least, that would explain why he had practically ignored you since his reveal, leaving you to die with the rest on the plane crash. If he still wanted you by his side, he would have rescued you from that situation and taken you with him, wouldn’t he?

Maybe he thought you had betrayed him by travelling with The Doctor, or maybe he just had gotten over you already.

“Nothing changes what I feel for him.” You clarified, finally letting yourself free from her grip. Taking a deep breathe, you organized the ideas running through your mind, focusing only on one particular feeling. “I love him. I always have. I’m going to stay by his side because that’s how I feel and nothing in this universe will make me change my mind. I don’t care if he doesn’t recognize me or if he doesn’t love me back anymore… That doesn’t change anything.”

“Please don’t do anything stupid…” Your friend unsuccessfully attempted to stop you once more. You could see desperation in her eyes as she tried to talk sense into you, to make you stay safely by her side. She meant well, but both of you knew it was useless to try to dissuade you. “He would never do the same for you!”

“I know.” You sighed, giving a final look at The Doctor and her companions. This was your goodbye. “Still don’t care.”

Before The Doctor or any of the others could say anything else, you rushed yourself to one of the few remaining Kasaavin, reaching your hand to the creature and fading away in a white light explosion.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in an unknown, hostile place. It was the Kasaavin’s dimension. Judging by Yaz's reaction of when she had come back from there, you had supposed it wasn't going to be a friendly place, but you had pictured something very different in your head. You had imagined that place to be full of blinding white lights, but it was way colder and darker than you would have figured just by looking at the aliens who resided there.

The first thing you noticed were the wire-like structures that ran sparks of light through them. There were thousands- No, millions of them around. They slightly reminded you of trees, they were all around and each of them looked exactly the same. There was no way of developing any sense of orientation there. It almost felt like you were in the middle of a forest at night, lost and having no idea on where to go.

You had to admit that throwing yourself into an unknown dimension without any plan or guarantee of getting out hadn’t been your brightest idea.

Just when you were beginning to regret your impulsiveness, you heard a frustrated scream and, recognizing the source of the sound, you rushed in the direction where it had come from. You didn’t quite know this regeneration of The Master yet and his voice still sounded a bit unfamiliar, but you recognized his characteristic exasperation of when something didn't come out as planned in his shout. It had to be him. Plus, who else could be trapped there besides you and him?

Luckily, you found The Master standing not far from where you had landed, his back facing you as he didn’t seem to notice your presence. You tried to calm your breathing before getting closer to him, trying to figure out what to say to him. After losing Missy, you never thought you would have this opportunity. Him, standing in front of you in the middle of such a strange place felt like something come out of a daydream. For a second you even considered the possibility that everything was only happening in your sleep, and you feared that you would suddenly wake up alone in your bed or that he would fade away before your eyes.

Before you could find the courage to say something, he turned to you.

“What are you doing here?” His eyes observed you with surprise and curiosity during a few seconds. That confusion turned itself into bitterness with his second question. “Don’t you travel with The Doctor now?”

“Well, you know me-“ You tried to act smooth, but you were sure he could sense the nervousness in your voice. “I can’t help myself when it comes to helping a damsel in distress.”

Seeing him chuckle at your little remark helped calm you down. He definitely was the same person you had fell in love with, only different. You had never understood what that meant when Missy tried to explain you the regeneration process, but seeing The Doctor change had helped you comprehend the concept. And now, looking at this new incarnation of him, you were completely sure that, even though he looked different, nothing had really changed.

“Not a damsel anymore, love.” He pointed out as he stepped closer to you. Well, almost nothing had changed. “Is that of any inconvenience for you?”

“As long as we’re still getting in distress…” You softly shook your head, a smile spreading across your face when you watched his smirk getting wider.

“Oh, we’re going to.” His preying eyes examined your body with amusement, sending a shiver down your spine when you realized how he had perceived your initially innocent comment. “I can assure you that.”

“You’re going to need to catch me up on a few things first.” You did your best to hide your increasing blushing as he got even closer to you, invading your personal space and barely giving you room to breathe. Trying not to get distracted by his proximity, you looked at him in the eye. “The Doctor told me you died.”

The Master sighed and took a step back when you pronounced his childhood’s friend’s name, as if he was repealed by it. It was no secret that he wasn’t her biggest fan, but as he backed away you saw something in his eyes you couldn’t quite decode, something different from his usual hatred.

“I was left to die alone.” He clarified. The resentment in his voice more than obvious as he spoke, and hearing him say those words did nothing but break your heart. Trying to show him that you were there with him, you carefully caressed the side of his face. It was strange to feel the light stubble against your skin, but you kind of liked how it looked on him. Softening under your touch, he let out another sigh, a more relaxed one. “Almost had to regenerate twice. That damn corset.”

“I liked that old thing though. It looked good on you.” You complimented him, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.

“It looked good on you too.” The Master’s eyes left your face to look down at your body, his stare tracing the curves and edges of your body as he remembered the several times you had stolen his clothes and walked around his TARDIS wearing them. That memory brought a sincere smile to his face. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

“The best of times.” You nodded your head in agreement, a little smile forming on your face as well.

“Oh, but I’m sure you had a great time with The Doctor too…” The Master’s face suddenly got dark, the smirk disappearing from his face as he looked away from you. His harsh tone confused you for a second, trying to understand what was going on inside his mind and the reason behind his sudden change of mood. He surely was an emotional rollercoaster. “You seemed to be having so much fun playing spies with her…”

When you finally interlocked your stare with his you understood why the innuendo on his voice.

He was jealous.

“Did you?” He inquired as he stepped closer to you again, his hot breathing hitting your face. “Did you have fun with her?”

“I only agreed to travel with her because I couldn’t stand being on my own without you.” You tried to justify yourself, feeling your knees weakening under his cold stare.

“That’s not what I am asking.” His voice was rough as his eyes shifted through your face. “You seemed close to her… Did you feel anything for her?”

“Of course not.” You quickly assured, but it didn’t seem to be enough for him. Placing both of his hands on each side of your hips, he pushed you against one of the wires, his weigh pinning you against the alien structure.

“Did you think she could make you forget about me?”

He ran his tongue through his lips, making your body squirm slightly and your breathing unsettle. You shook your head as he got even closer to you.

“Did you think she could make you feel the way I make you feel?”

You shivered as his hands slipped down your shirt and caressed the skin of your lower back. Closing your eyes, you tried to steady your breathing. It had been years since you had felt his touch, the way his fingers slowly explored your body. That simple gesture was all he had to do to have you at his complete and utter mercy. And he knew.

“That she could ever make you this desperate for her?”

“No…” You mumbled under your breathe.

With a proud smile he lent closer to you, his lips gently brushing the skin of your neck as the harsh but pleasant feeling of his stubble against you sent goosebumps all over that area. Stopping himself right next to your ear, he left a soft kiss on your neck before whispering.

“Have you forgotten who your Master is?”

You shook your head again, but he didn’t seem pleased with your answer.

“Say it out loud.”

“Only my Master could make me feel this good.” You muttered as you still felt the tip of his fingers roaming through your body, his breathing against the particularly sensitive skin of your neck. “No one else could.”

You supposed he was satisfied with your answer this time when he took a step back to smash his lips with yours.

He was even more passionate than you remembered, his mouth moving eagerly against yours as his arms wrapped around your waist trying to bring you impossibly closer to him, as if he was afraid of letting you go again. Your whole body trembled as you tried to keep his pace, placing one of your hands on his shoulder for support as the other caressed the side of his face gently.

“Good thing you still know who you belong to.” He smirked as he stepped away from you, your body immediately missing the warmth of his touch. “Now, let’s find a way to get out of here so I can show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

[simpbur]

hello! i would like ur 40 song wiblur playlist

anon thank you so much for asking <333 while it would’ve been easier to just drop the link i have so many thoughts about everything so i explained why every single song has its spot on this list which was IMMENSELY fun for me

(also: if anyone does want the link i can provide both apple music and spotify but if u would like the apple music link i’d rather it be through dms or an ask off anon that i can make private!)

another also: i bolded all the songs for ease of perusing if you don’t want the director’s commentary and bolded + italicized the ones that i think fit Very Well

another another also: wrote the second bit of this on my laptop and the keyboard is p funky so if there are any typos or things that do not make sense i will try to fix them asap haha

saint bernard by lincoln: this is one of those like. Dream SMP Songs that i added because it fits into so many different relationships and plot lines and arcs but i think there’s some connection to c!wlbur somewhere out there. idk i asked my friend and he said to add it so this one goes out to him

amnesia was her name by lemon demon: ghostbur song ghostbur song! mostly comes from this lovely animatic

o valencia! by the decemberists: okay this is one of those songs that only really has one lyric that fits but is an absolutely banger so it’s here anyway. you’ll also notice a trend of quasi love songs that i relate to c!wilbur’s perception of l’manburg and i think this song shows this in a really cool way, esp with the chorus (‘and i swear to the stars i’ll burn this whole city down’ is The Line)

achilles come down by gang of youths: another one of those Dream SMP Songs. i think this fits better with c!tommy but i like it too much to remove it. this is a somewhat common trend with the earlier songs on this playlist (i’ve been building this thing since january, for reference)

brave as a noun by ajj: another Dream SMP Song. i think certain verses fit better than others when it comes to wilbur’s character but that ones that work really work

harness your hopes by pavement: a song that is one here for vibes alone. i have no idea what these lyrics mean. all i know is that i heard it, thought of c!wilbur, and put it on the playlist. thank you all for being here

evelyn evelyn by evelyn evelyn: sad-ist made this a tommy and tubbo song (as she should) so it’s validity on this playlist is questionable but folks used to compare it to wilbur and tommy’s relationship during the pogtopia arc and i think some points were made there

the execution of all things by rilo kiley: i’m so excited to get here because this was the first song i put on the playlist that i think really works and i thumb nailed an animatic for the last verse and november 16th so! i think it’s a good l’manburg song and the last verse has some good ghostbur lines (‘and lately you’re all alone with nothing left but sleep/but sleep never comes to you, it’s the guilt and forever wakefulness of the weak’)

i’m just your problem from adventure time: this ones a bit tricky since at is my favorite show of all time and i cannot detach this song from its in-show context very well but there is a very cool animatic with this song that landed it a spot on the playlist

man burning by josh ritter: almost became an animatic but the audio i wanted to use (which i recorded at a josh ritter concert and it’s just him and his guitar and there’s echo and it’s very haunting and pretty) has my stepbrother singing in the background and i could not edit it out so. that will probably not happen. but anyways the only hole i would pick in this song is that it’s mostly about self sabotage which isn’t really applicable but i think the imagery is cool

mamma mia by abba: here me out. here me out. this is another song that fits so well and i have spent so many hours thinking about this and somewhere there is a note on my phone explaining how every single line relates to c!wilbur’s entire arc from founding l’manburg to the resurrection (made when we thought gbur was going to get resurrected in january) and just. the metaphorical ‘you’ is l’manburg does this make any sense (another almost animatic except now that wilbur’s actually back it might become an actual animatic)

the other side of paradise by glass animals: no idea why this is here other than being a Dream SMP Song. it’s good tho

infinitesimal by mother mother: they saaaaay it stared with a big bang but they saaaaaaaay it came out of a small thing latelyyyyy i’ve been feeling like a big bang You Know

curses by the crane wives: had a thing drawn out for this song showing the comparisons between c!wilbur and c!niki because of the chorus and i think the last two lyrics of said chorus are the best thing about this one

lonely eyes by the front bottoms: gotta admit that i have no idea how this song got on here but i’ve come to associate it with ghostbur based on vibes alone. it’s a friendly song he’s a friendly ghost it works. the other tfb song coming up fits a bit better methinks

king of new orleans by better than ezra: not to put better than ezra on my c!wilbur playlist but like. something about the whole ‘tasing something up to let it fall’ motif makes me think

get me away from here, i’m dying by belle and sebastian: another almost animatic song (there’s a trend here). not only does the story told in this song work i like the lines ‘play me a song to set me free/nobody writes them like they used to so it may as well be me’ in relation to my l’manburg

montgomery forever by the front bottoms: certain bits and pieces of this song fit so well, specifically the chorus and those bits in the last two choruses Yeah (’montgomery forever and ever and ever and now they’re blowing it up/(x2)/as you started laughing and crying and trying to explain how all you want to do is leave’)

don’t look back in anger by oasis: out of all my almost animatic songs, this one got the furthest. the animatic, which I got pretty far in thumbnailing, was about wilbur and tommy and kind of drawing comparisons between their characters, also about the revolution in general. maybe i’ll finish that animatic one day idk 

snow by ricky montgomery: i wish i had a link for this so bad but!! saw art on twitter!! with the lyric ‘bury me six feet in snow’!! and went ahfsdjfk!!

burning pile by mother mother: a Dream SMP Song. also a jam there’s no real specific connection for this one but i think it could fit in a couple of ways

rounds by the oh hellos: in the same position as snow except it was on tumblr..... @ whoever made this comic i saw these lyrics in your brain is massive and your art is incredible

lovely by mt. eddy: on here for vibes alone. there’s something in the lyrical content too, but my thoughts in that regard are not very fleshed out

adventures in solitude by the new pornographers: ah yes..... the song that prompted this all...... this is a beautiful and incredibly well written song and if you’re going to listen to any song off of this playlist i’d encourage you to listen to this one. it’s place of here is mostly cause of the chorus but the imagery in the verses could all represent a part of c!wilbur and i’d love to explore that more

caught in the middle by paramore: obligatory paramore song. i think it got on here because limbo = ‘middle’ but i’m not quite sure. on the verge of being deleted if i can find a better pmore song

delicate by damien rice: one of the oddest songs on this list and i am well aware that it sticks out like a sore thumb. a song that’s on here pretty much because of one lyric, which is ‘and why’d you sing hallelujah/if it means nothing to you’ which i related to both eret’s betrayal and how my l’manburg is hallelujah yknow

bang! by ajr: almost animatic song. i think we all know what the bang is here

somewhere only we know by lily allen: ik i said don’t look back in anger has the most potential to get made into an animatic but this song might actually take it place. on par with adventures in solitude in terms of how pretty of a song it is, and probably even moreso. it’s kind of turned into a ghostbur song in my head, and makes me cry like an infant child every time i hear it

a pearl by mitski: i cannot defend this song’s place on here past the line ‘it’s just that i fell in love with a war and nobody told me it ended’

eight by sleeping at last: the official c!wilbur song needs a spot on here <3 if i can dig up the clip of cc!wilbur talking about this song in relation to his character i’ll add it but until then yeah <3

always by rilo kiley: no idea why this is on here but it fits well!! could not tell you why!! banger!!

celebration guns by stars: it’s a hauntingly beautiful song about war, and kind of one of those that necessarily isn’t about wilbur but moreso his place in the story? idk how to explain it but yes

passerine by the oh hellos: it’s. it’s from the . the fic. yeah h

oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place by bright eyes: added this after the real resurrection and i think it’s because fo the imagery? also the last verse

we are beautiful, we are doomed by los campesinos!: all i have to say is ‘i cannot emphasize enough that my body/is a badly designed, poorly put together vessel/harboring these diminishing, so called vital organs/i hope my heart goes first, i hope my heart goes first!’ has always made me think of pogtopia era wilbur :(

dead weight by jack stauber: no real connection other than eret played this song during a break during the ghostbur’s january ‘resurrection’ and i heard it and went :0

point me at lost lands by tired pony: gives me season on l’manburg vibes..... i love how free and passionate it sounds and that's p much the only reason it’s on this list haha

ghosting by mother mother: added this five seconds ago because i could not BELIEVE it was not on here. ghostbur song. mans sang it on that one stream with the reverb and everything. the lyrics ‘i will be kind and i’ll be sweet/if you stop staring straight through me’ hit particularly hard back when everyone thought that ghostbur was actually wilbur in disguise 

[shadow-assassin-blix]

A Christmas to Remember

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Reader/You

This is my Secret Santa gift as part of the #Pedros12DaysofChristmas to one @mickeymouse-moshpit​ who wanted some fluff. This is my first time writing for Whiskey and I had a lot of fun with it. (Also, I sent an anon a while ago but I dont know if you ever saw it, or if tumblr ate it, so if you specified anything else my apologies!) I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Talks of loss of childhood dog, Whiskey mentions his deceased wife. Some anxiety issues in the form of trying to be a people pleaser. 

It was a few days before Christmas Eve, and most of the Statesmen were spending the day catching up on paperwork before heading out on vacation. That is where you were; stuck in your office finishing up reports.

It has been a rough couple of weeks for you. A mission you went on a week ago, went terribly. Your CI had gotten killed, and you had almost walked into a trapped that could’ve been the death of you and your team.

Thankfully, another agent who had been your backup got you out of there before anything could happen. Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels had been a literal lifesaver that day.

Then on top of that, your childhood dog had passed away over a month ago. He had been about 15, so his passing wasn’t too shocking, but it still broke your heart. He had been with you through so many changes: college, jobs, moves, break-ups. This was the first Christmas in years, that you would be spending it alone.

So, here you were typing up the last report before the holidays, with a smidge of dread.

It was as you were editing the report that you saw Whiskey making his way out of his office across from yours. You had always thought he was extremely handsome. He was a flirt, sure, but he was damn good at his job. You had been trying to figure out how to properly thank him for days since he saved your ass.

You bit your lip as an idea popped up in your head, and found yourself chasing after him, trying to catch up before he got on the elevator.

“Hey Whiskey!” You called out when you see him waiting for the elevator, just ahead of you.

He turned around, slight confusion on his face as he watched you run up to him.

“Where’s the fire darling?” He asked slight concern in his voice.

“Sorry. Um. Was wondering… do you have any plans for Christmas Eve?” You slowly asked, trying to not sound too winded.

“Uh. Not much. I’m on the graveyard shift both nights. Why you ask honey?” He questioned curiously.

“Well. I tend to have a small dinner at home and watch cheesy Christmas movies. I was wondering if you would like to join me? No one should spend the holidays alone or at work,” You offered with a small smile, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

Whiskey stared at her surprised. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Um. That’s mighty kind of you. I may take you up on that. I’ll let you know, yeah?” He finally answered not knowing what to say.

You nodded your head, somewhat excitedly.

“Great. No pressure though! I just… don’t want to be alone to be honest. But um. Just let me know, okay?” You said with a wave as you walked back to your office.

You go back inside, finish your edits and sent off the report for review. It was as you were gathering your things, that you realized that what you said… sounded a little guilt trip-y.

You winced as you thought more and more about it. When you got down to your car, and was simply sitting in it, you decided to text him.

‘Hey, umm. I’m sorry if what I said early made you feel awkward. I just wanted to do something nice for you after that mission last week. If I overstepped or made you feel weird, I am sorry.’

You hit sent before typing out one more thing.

‘If you want… we can just ignore that whole conversation.’

You sent it and then threw your phone over into to the seat next to you, not wanting to look at it ever again.

You made your way home and soon enough you were walking upstairs into your apartment. As you set your stuff down, you checked your phone expecting something horrific. There was nothing. You unlocked it to see the conversation, wanting to be sure nothing had been said. All that was there were your two messages. So, you continued on with your night, checking your phone occasionally.

Two days later, it was Christmas Eve, and you still had yet to hear from Whiskey. You simply sigh in resignation that he was either weirded out by you, or just wasn’t interested.

You began cooking your dinner at about 11am. You tended to make a lot of food, despite it usually only being for one person. You loved leftovers and it meant not having to cook a lot for a few days. It was about 3pm when you were fixing up the ham, getting ready to put it in the oven, when you heard a knock at the door.

You stared at it confused before walking over to it. When you opened it, there was a man you didn’t know standing there.

“Uh. Can I help you?” You asked awkwardly looking at him and the dishes he was carrying.

He looked at you then at the door number, and went, “Aw. Shit. Sorry. Got off on the wrong floor. My bad. Um. Merry Christmas?”

You laughed a little and said, “Merry Christmas to you. Enjoy whatever you’re about to eat, it smells delicious!”

He threw a ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he walked away. You close the door and went back over to your ham. You finished preparing it and set it in the oven, creating a timer for it.

You were in the middle of cleaning up the slight mess that had been from that and was setting the table with everything that you had made earlier when another knock came to your door.

You walk over with a sigh, mentally preparing to direct another person who was at the wrong door. But upon opening it, you were surprised to see Whiskey standing there instead. He was wearing a simple black polo and jeans, a white cowboy hat in one hand and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm.

“Hi,” He greeted with a small smile.

“Hey,” You were shocked to say the least.

It took a moment for your brain to start functioning again before you realized you had yet to let him in. You stepped aside and he walked in setting his hat on a rung on the coat rack.

“I uhh… I brought some white wine. I remember you saying you’re not a fan of red,” He stated showing you the bottle.

You smiled at him meekly, and asked, “You remembered that?”

He nodded with a small smirk, “I only remember the important things.”

“My preference in wine is important?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed. I find most things that you tell me about yourself important. How else would I be able to woo you?” He fired back his smirk growing.

You felt your face warm with embarrassment before clearing your throat, “Ahem. Um. Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes. There’s plenty to snack on as well, so help yourself.”

You made your way into the kitchen to get a bottle opener and a pair of wine glasses. Whiskey followed you, taking the opener from you gently. He quietly opened the bottle and poured the both of you glasses.

He then picked up both glasses and took them over to the couch, holding them, waiting for you to join him. You sat down next to him and took one. You clinked your glasses together before taking a sip.

You turned slightly to look at him, leaning back on your couch.

“Are you uh… still doing the graveyard shift tonight?” You politely asked, fiddling with the stem of your drink.

“No. I’m not. Decided against it,” He answered softly.

“Why uhh… why did you agree to do them in the first place, if I may ask?” You inquired, propping your arm up on the back of the couch to rest your head on it.

“Nothin’ better to do. Haven’t really celebrated the holidays in years. Not uhh. Not since my wife died,” He admitted with a flinch.

You stared at him, horrified. You didn’t know what to say. What does one say after that?

“I’m sorry… if this.. if this bothers you, you don’t have to stay,” You whispered feeling awful.

“It doesn’t bother me. Not as much as I thought it would. To be honest, I had planned on saying no. But. I don’t know. Somethin’ kept naggin’ at me to go. Maybe it’s cause yer the first woman in years that I’ve truly been interested, if it’s not too forward of me to say?” He confessed looking you in the eyes.

As you met his gaze, could see the honesty in his eyes. You set your glass of wine down, and got up, to walk over to the fridge. You reached in and pulled out 2 beers.

“Drinking wine doesn’t quite feel right for the current mood,” You lamely joked handing him one of them.

He chuckled softly and murmured in agreement.

“I lost my dog a month ago… Old age. Passed away in his sleep. ‘Best way for a pet to go’ as I’ve been told by everyone. Never really knew just how quiet this place can get without him. Thought about getting another to fill the void but I don’t know… None quite measure up I guess,” You told him before taking a swig of beer wincing slightly at taste of it mixing with the wine.

“I was about to ask, I remember you talking about him a lot,” He said with a nod.

“I know it’s silly, to not want to spend a holiday alone when your usual company was a dog-” You began to explain before he cut you off.

“It’s not silly to me. Now, I’m not quite sure who put that in ya head, but he was yer family. Just because he was a pet, doesn’t invalidate that or your grief,” He began, his hand gently brushing against your cheek. “I’m just… happy that ya asked me to come be with you.”

You smiled in appreciation, your hand reaching up to touch his as you leaned your cheek into it.

He slowly moved forward, his eyes glancing between yours and your lips, silently asking for permission. His lips slowly met yours a moment after you nodded your once. You kissed back just as hesitantly. His hand at your cheek, slowly slid into your hair bring you closer.

The kiss was slow but with each second that passed, the both of you gained more confidence. The kiss became deeper and more passionate. Your hands slid around his neck, slowly burying themselves into his hair. His other hand was fiddling with the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin he found there.

The only reason why either of you pulled away was to suck in some much-needed air as you felt your lungs burn a little.  You wanted to go back for more, but the kitchen timer was going off, signaling the ham was done. The both of you chuckle as you took in the state of each other: lips swollen, hair a mess.

You quietly stood up to go take the ham out of the oven. The both of you fixed up a plate, and began to watch a few Christmas movies, curling up next to each on the couch. You were about halfway through the Nightmare Before Christmas when you paused it to put your plates into the sink.

“Before we continue… I.. I got you something,” You said to him walking over to your tree.

You picked up a small box that you had labelled as “Whiskey.”

The both of you returned to the couch, as you handed him the present.

He opened it stating, “I didn’t get you anything. Now I feel a bit bad ‘bout that”

As he opened the box to reveal a watch his breath caught. He looked at it and then slowly turned his wrist to look at the watch he had on. It was almost identical to the one he wore now, just silver instead of gold.

He pulled it out gently, examining it. What really got him was when he saw the engraving at the back. It had his name… and the name of his wife.

His gaze turned to you in confused amazement.

“I’ve seen you prepare for missions a lot, and when I first started, I was one of the people who had to lock up personal items when the mission called for extreme discretion. I noticed on your watch it had a name on it. I didn’t know who she was, but I figured she had to be pretty important to you. You mentioned a while back that it broke, and no one’s been able to repair it. So, I tried to find one that looked similarly,” You explained biting your lip.

He looked at you for a moment longer, before turning back to the watch. He gently set the watch back into its box.

You opened your mouth to apologize when he stopped you… by pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was brief but passionate.

“Thank you, darlin’. That’s… that’s the kindest thing anyone’s done for me in a long while,” He whispered against your lips, as he reached up to wipe away a tear that had escaped.

“You’re welcome. I was hoping you’d like it. I was worried you’d hate it,” You admitted.

“You worry too much. You need to stop worryin’ about upsettin’ everyone all the time. You are one of the best agents we have, and everyone adores you,” He assured you, kissing you again and pulling you into his arms.

You smiled sheepishly at that and nodded. You curled back into his side, and he held you as close as possible. You continued to watch movies until you fell asleep, feeling safe and warm next to him.

As morning came and you slowly woke up on the couch, a blanket covering you. As you sat up, looking around, you realized you were alone. You got up looking around trying to see if he left a note.

As you walked toward the kitchen to your phone, you realized that it had been cleaned up. He had put away and saved the food that had been left out.

She checked her phone and saw that there was one message waiting for her.

‘Needed to go do some things. Merry Christmas, beautiful. If it’s alright, I’d like to see you again tonight?’ -Whiskey

You sent a quick response back, ‘I would love to see you tonight! Merry Christmas!’

The rest of the day you went and hung out with some friends for Christmas and did gift exchanges. When you finally came back home, it was late in the day. You set the presents down and freshened up really quick before Whiskey arrived.

It didn’t take very long before you heard a knock on the door; perfectly timed since you had just finished cleaning up. You could feel yourself get excited at the thought of seeing Whiskey again. You walked over to the door to see Whiskey standing there with a large box in his arms, that was brightly colored.

You stared at him, slightly confused at the box. It was as you stared at it that you noticed a shimmer of silver. He had put on the watch.

“Hey darlin’. So. Funny story. I went out planning to ask a friend a question… when I saw something in an alleyway,” He began to explain hesitantly.

He slowly lifted the lid off to reveal a puppy. “He was alone. Took him to my friend who works with a shelter and had one of those fancy scanner things that checks for microchips. Found none. When I told him where I found this lil guy, they said it’s a common place for people to dump pets.”

You stared at the puppy wide-eyed, vaguely aware of what Whiskey was saying to you. The puppy gave a small bark, and his tail wagged excitedly. You could feel your heart melting as you stared at him. You could feel your eyes swelling up with tears.

You slowly reached forward, holding your hand out to his face to sniff. He sniffed it once and then began to lick your hand several times, causing you to choke out a laugh. You then picked up out of the box and held him close to you.

He gave you several kisses before snuggling into your arms.

“I uh… I think I’m gonna have to keep him,” You said tearily as you held him.

“Those are happy tears, right?” He asked nervously.

“Yes. Very happy,” You answered with a laugh, moving back to let him in.

“I had planned on just askin’ my friend about any available dogs for you, thinkin’ maybe we could go find you one tomorrow when the shelter was open. Then I just found him on my way over. I ain’t a big believer in fate but…” He trailed off smiling as he watched you.

“You wanted to take me on a date to find a puppy?” She asked setting the puppy down to let him explore.

“Yes ma’am. I did indeed,” He replied stepping toward her. “Now, however, I think it’s gonna be a get supplies for the little rascal kind of date.”

“I’m good with that, but uhh…  I do believe that I need to kiss you right now,” You said with moving closer to him.

“Oh? Is that right? Well then... please don’t let me stop you,” He drawled as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in as close as he could.

You giggled in response as you kissed him slowly and thoroughly, your arms around his neck. He kissed back, his arms lifting you slightly off your feet.

You broke apart when you heard a little bark at your feet. The both of you looked down to see the puppy staring up at the two of you, tilting his head.

You reached down and picked him up and as you held him, you looked at Whiskey who was smiling brightly at you.

“Not gonna lie, honey. This has probably been one of the better Christmases I’ve had in a long time,” He said fondly.

“Same here. Maybe uhh… when the holidays are over, we could go on some proper dates?” You proposed.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot,” He remarked pressing a kiss to your lips, before giving a small kiss to the puppy’s forehead.

You smiled and as the two of you spent the rest of the evening together, the both of you realized something. This wasn’t what you were expecting for Christmas at all, but neither of them will ever complain. This was a Christmas to remember.

[ltleflrt]

Ltleflrt’s Writing Year In Review

I say this every year, but I wish I’d written more lol.  On the other hand, I thought I was probably done writing Destiel early in the year and thought I’d go into writing hibernation until a new fandom or pairing poked my muse in the ass with a sharp stick, BUT I ended up writing a whole ‘nother goddamn 100k+ fic!  So I’m thrilled af about that XD

Total 2020 Word Count: 164,013 Estimated 2020 Kudos: 1,846 Estimated 2020 Hits: 32,193

My 2020 Fics:

Hunter’s Caress: 161,095 (18,866 written in 2020)

Castiel Jameson won’t rest until the outlaw who murdered his brother faces justice, and Dean Winchester is the only man alive who can help him track the villain down. Some say Winchester is a cold-blooded killer himself; others say he’d been wronged his whole life. All Castiel knows is that the desire glinting in Dean’s green eyes is even more dangerous than he is. Castiel fights to keep his mind on business, but during the long nights on the trail with the dangerously handsome hunter he finds himself dreaming of yielding to Dean’s illicit kisses and losing himself in lawless passion.

Dean Winchester is about to hang when Castiel saves his neck with his crazy plan. But dying might be better than spending day and night playing nursemaid to such an infuriating city slicker. He appreciates the stubborn detective’s desire for justice, but he’d appreciate Cas a lot more if he’d stop being a lawman long enough to just be a man. He certainly has all the right equipment. Dean aches to run his fingers through Castiel’s dark hair, yearns to know how Castiel’s golden skin will feel against him. And before the coming of the next dawn, Dean vows to teach him the pleasures and sweet rewards of a Hunter’s Caress.

Most of this was written in 2019, which is why my Kudos and Hits are estimated, since a lot of that came from Hunter’s Caress. 

I learned so much from this project.  It’s based on a favorite book that I read for the first time when I was 11 years old, and have re-read probably twenty times since then.  Since I had the book open for reference most of the time I was working on this story, I got to compare my writing to a professional.  And y’all know what I think?  I’m kinda better at this than they are?  Not on the story creation front, because I consider Desperado’s Caress one of the best romance adventures I’ve ever read, but on the technical side of things.  Looking at the book with the eyes of a writer, with a little bit of editing experience under my belt now too, I’m just like... this is kind of a mess?  It was actually quite a boost to my ego lol

The Thing About Heaven Is...: 2,363 words

The thing about Heaven is that even though Dean has been here before, this time he’s taking the time to enjoy the experience, and things are a lot different than he expected.

I put a note on this fic that I didn’t hate the SPN Finale, even though I didn’t love it either, but I was being generous because sometimes I’ll remember what we got and I’m filled with rage.  I wake up in the middle of the night and think of all the ways it could have been better, and lose hours of sleep.  I spend far too much time yelling at Jared in my head for talking it up, and also at the imaginary C*W that lives in my head that gets to hear me ranting about how they fucked up so bad at least once a day. 

When I say that I didn’t hate the ending, what I really mean is that Dean going to Heaven first while Sam spends time back on Earth was kinda what I was expecting, so those 2 events are not bad in themselves, but the execution and the lack of Castiel on screen completely ruined it for me.

But that’s what fix it fic is for, right?  I decided to set my fix it fic post 15x20, because I know more invested and skilled writers who enjoy writing canonverse are going to give us hundreds of post 15x18 goodness, so I’ll let them do that while I work with what we got.  This was what gave me catharsis, and even though I’m never going to watch that train wreck of an episode ever again (seriously, I want to rage scream that the last “good” episode was by Bucklemming), I feel like I can come back to this fic again someday and feel some peace when I read it.

Man in the Wilderness: 142,784

As a veteran, Dean has survived more than most people could handle without going completely cuckoo. And he hasn't exactly escaped being a little messed up himself. So he's returned home to the tiny town he grew up in, retreating from a world that has become too much. But when you know everyone in town, the dating pool is shallow and it can be a little bit lonely, even when surrounded by friends and family who love him. And then a drifter on a motorcycle rolls into town, and Dean thinks just maybe this might be the man he's been waiting for.

While wandering the country in an attempt to escape his problems, Castiel's motorcycle breaks down in a small desert town. He's helplessly drawn to Dean, the town's handsome mechanic, and the feeling appears to be mutual. After months of aimless traveling, he thinks he may have finally found his way out of the wilderness.

Technically as of today this is still a WIP on AO3, but I finished the last chapter a few hours ago, so I’m counting the words in my WIP folder too lol

This was a surprise!  It’s a SPN/Destiel rewrite of my Mass Effect/mShenko fic Feels Like Home, which is the first story I ever wrote that made me feel like a popular writer.  Early this year I was brainstorming ideas for a fic where Castiel was the mechanic instead of Dean, and I jokingly said to @jupiterjames that I should do Feels Like Home, with Castiel as the mechanic.  She was enthusiastic about it, but I just laughed it off at first because what a silly idea.  Then I started poking at it.  Like a bruise.  Couldn’t stop.

Obviously I dropped the Mechanic!Cas angle, because it didn’t feel right for the story.  But as soon as I thought y’know, what if it was Mechanic!Dean and Drifter!Cas my muse came roaring awake screaming DO IT DO IT DO IT.

So I did.  And it was even more of a learning experience than writing Hunter’s Caress!  Because now I’m seeing my older writing (7 years holy shit!!), and I’m seeing all the ways I’ve improved over the better part of a decade, and finding even more ways to improve as I go through the rewrite. 

For a couple years now, I’ve felt kind of stagnant in my writing.  I have felt like I lost My Voice, and I was struggling to figure out what was wrong.  Was I just bored?  Yes, probably.  But also, I think I needed to look back at some of my older works that I fucking loved and thought couldn’t be improved...and improve them. 

Just Keep Writing You’ll Get There is good advice.  But it wasn’t working for me, because I’ve written 1-2 novels a year since I started writing fic in 2012, so it’s not like I was just staring at my screen and not putting any words on it while I angsted.  Read And Rewrite Your Old Shit was the next step in my evolution.  I highly recommend it if you’re also feeling stagnant and stuck XD

I’m also super amused, because Feels Like Home was 112k, and at the time it was the longest thing I’d ever written.  On accident.  Like I do.  It was supposed to be for an 8k mini-bang, and I had to drop out because obviously it got away from me and I wasn’t going to make the deadline.  As I was doing the Destiel rewrite, I had to keep cutting scenes and characters out that were specific to Mass Effect, and I speculated that the new fic would be shorter than the original. Ha.  Hahaha.  HahahahahaHAHAHAHAKDJHFADKJHF... fuck I am a wordy bitch.

[lady-divine-writes]

Jealousy

Aziraphale is used to people stopping by his shop to flirt with his (sleeping) husband, so he doesn’t let it bother him. But when the shoe is on the other foot, Crowley doesn’t take it as well. (2213 words)

A peculiar thing happens in Aziraphale's shop on August 13th at precisely two in the afternoon.

A man comes in looking for a book.

That’s not the peculiar part.

People attempt to buy books at Aziraphale’s shop all the time. They’re mostly unsuccessful, but the opportunity is theoretically there.

The peculiar part comes when this man - a statuesque, ruggedly-handsome man in a finely tailored, tan suit, aubergine shirt, and silk tie; a man who looked like he would be equally as comfortable touring the Savannah on holiday as he would be making corporate decisions in a board room – flirts with Aziraphale.

Aziraphale can be oblivious to those things, but the only people who seem to have eyes for him anyway are older women, mainly widows and divorcees, not searching for an exciting good-looker for their next relationship, but a reliable, stable, respectful man that they can talk to about books and music; who will take them to fancy restaurants on Friday nights and play Canasta with them on the weekends. A nice, non-threatening man who likes to garden and do crossword puzzles and cuddle, who won’t make too many demands on them physically. And even then, by the time Aziraphale figures them out, the women in question have already gotten bored and gone, leaving Aziraphale secretly grateful that he didn’t have to part with another one of his precious first editions.

Flirting happens to Crowley all the time. That Aziraphale notices. Women and men alike wander in off the streets to gawk at him. He’s a demon. He appeals to the baser instincts of mortals and that draws them to him. But he also happens to be stunning (in Aziraphale’s opinion, at least).

Aziraphale sees himself as having the appeal of an old couch – quaint and comfortable, familiar, convenient when you need a place to rest your bum but not the sort of thing you’d get excited over if the doorbell rang and you saw it sitting on your front stoop.

But the man who comes in, with his Rolex watch and his hundred dollar haircut, doesn’t so much as even make eye contact with Crowley.

He only has eyes for Aziraphale.

“Hello,” he says in a voice so smooth it slips through his lips and into Aziraphale’s ears without him needing to breathe too hard. “My name’s Ryan. I called earlier about purchasing a first edition of The Velveteen Rabbit? You said you had a copy?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says with a startled gulp, but he doesn’t know why. He’s not sure why the tone of this man’s voice makes him swallow like that. Or why the way he looks at him makes the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears go pink. “Yes. Yes, I do. Excuse me for not fetching it prior to your arrival. I wasn’t sure you were serious about picking it up.”

“Yes, I am. It’s very important to me. I’ve been looking for one everywhere.”

“Then you’re in luck!” Aziraphale rises off his stool with a hop. “Because I do indeed have one.” He strolls through the rows of shelves, hunting down the copy Adam had so conveniently magicked up for him after the Apoca-no-go. He hums while he walks, suddenly in a chipper mood as he scans the spines in the children’s section.

As happens quite a bit when Aziraphale’s in the stacks, he gets the feeling that he’s not alone. And he’s not. There’s a general presence that seems to haunt his shop, one that he hasn’t sorted out yet. And, of course, there’s his husband, napping on a chair off to one corner that gets neither too much shade nor sun. Aziraphale peeks over his shoulder, curious if his husband may have woken up and decided to slither behind him, but it’s not him.

It’s Ryan.

And Aziraphale smiles bashfully to himself.

“You know, many people would simply download a book like this,” Aziraphale says when he finds what he’s searching for. “I’ve heard you can find it online for free.”

“True, but reading a book online doesn’t compare to holding it in your hands. And a first edition has probably been held by many people, read to many children, and just generally loved to pieces. Kind of like the velveteen rabbit. Wouldn’t you agree?”

From behind the stacks, Aziraphale sees Crowley peek out, glaring over the rims of his Valentino shades. The angel’s eyes brighten at the sight of him. He’s about to summon him over, but he blinks, and his husband disappears in the quarter-second it takes for his eyes to open again.

“Yes, I would definitely agree.”

“Of course, it may not necessarily be that way with every book. You have to make a connection with it.” Ryan takes the book from Aziraphale, two of his fingers brushing the back of Aziraphale’s hand when he does. “They’re kind of like people that way. After a while, you develop a relationship with it. It becomes important to you. And you never want to part with it.”

“Oh, that’s … that’s beautiful,” Aziraphale says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it described that way before, but it’s true. I feel that way about all my favorite books. I do hope your little one feels the same way about this one.”

“Oh, I’m not married.” Ryan flashes his vacant ring finger along with a brilliant smile. “Don’t have any children. I’m sorry to say that this book is simply a gift from me to my inner child. It’s the key to something I’ve been missing, something that I’m hoping to get back.”

“That’s charming. I hope whatever it is that you’ve lost, you find it again.”

“I do as well.”

They talk as Aziraphale rings him up – about books, about music, about the trinkets Aziraphale keeps around the shop and the history behind each one. They briefly talk about Ryan’s job as CFO of a brand new startup that’s skyrocketed within the past year, but they mostly talk about Aziraphale’s shop and his passion for the written word. No other customers come in, or if they do, Aziraphale doesn’t notice. He pulls Ryan up a chair and offers him a cup of tea, hoping Crowley will eventually join them, but he doesn’t go looking for him. Crowley seems to relish his eight hour naps in Aziraphale’s shop.

Far be it for Aziraphale to interrupt him.

As the day drips on, Aziraphale starts to notice the change in the quality of the light as shadows lengthen across the floor. He glances over at the clock on the wall to see if his suspicions are correct, and he gasps.

“Oh, my dear! It’s five o’clock! I didn’t notice the time! Oh, I do hope you aren’t late for anything!”

“Not at all. It was my day off. And I can’t imagine a lovelier way to have spent it than sitting here, talking to you.”

“That’s very kind of you to say.”

“I’m just curious,” Ryan says, gathering up his book in the brown paper bag Aziraphale supplies him, “what are your hours? I didn’t see them posted on the door. It would be nice to know, just in case my inner child convinces me to buy another book from my past.”

“This store is mainly a pet project of mine, so my hours are a little, shall we say, erratic ...”

“That’s adorable,” Ryan says.

“B-but …” Aziraphale stutters at the interruption “… I should be here tomorrow. Offhand I can’t think of any reason why I won’t be.”

“Excellent!” Ryan smiles, distinctly pleased as he squirrels his purchase behind him. “Then I’ll be back tomorrow. 2:30. Nice snake, by the way,” he says, pointing to a spot behind Aziraphale’s head. “Is it real?”

“Quite.” Aziraphale peeks over his shoulder, relieved to see that Crowley hadn’t slipped out of the bookshop and driven off without his noticing, but worried since he only transforms into a snake when he’s agitated.

And from the way he flicks his tongue, eyes wide, shifting uneasily in place, Aziraphale can tell he’s highly agitated.

That makes him dangerous.

“Constrictor?”

“Uh, no …” Aziraphale walks Ryan to the door, eager to close up shop and get things with his husband ironed out. “Red-bellied black snake.”

The smile on Ryan’s face drops straight to his knees. “Aren’t those venomous?”

“Only if they bite you. Thank you so much for stopping by. See you tomorrow. Mind how you go.” Aziraphale practically tosses the poor man out onto the sidewalk but he has no way of explaining to him that it’s for his own good. Aziraphale barely has the locks thrown when he feels the snake rise up behind him, transforming into the human form of his demon husband.

“Ssso, isss thisss going to be a thing now?”

Aziraphale sighs. He loves his husband. He truly does. But he can be so temperamental sometimes, even for a demon. “Why whatever do you mean?”

“Men dropping by your ssshop and making eyesss at you? Eating up all your time?”

“One man.” Aziraphale chuckles. “And my dear, people stop by every day simply to throw themselves at you. Do I bat an eye?”

“But I don’t care about them. None of them make my voice go all quivery like that man made yours.”

“I do admit that maybe I got a little carried away,” Aziraphale confesses, putting a hand to his flushed cheek. “See, I’m not use to getting that sort of attention. It was nice for the moment, but I don’t think it’s something I could handle every day.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I’m afraid I’m not very good around people. I prefer the company of my books and my music … and my ill-tempered husband.”

“But that’s the kind of bloke you fancy, right?” Crowley presses. “Someone who talks to you about books and music, and dresses in expensive clothes …”

“You dress in the most expensive clothes I’ve ever seen!” Aziraphale points out with an incredulous laugh.

“You know what I mean!” Crowley says, gesturing with a frustrated hand. “His clothes have … ffffwwwpppp … colors in them!”

“I see. Yes, I guess that does make a difference.”

“I knew it.”

“Ugh! Listen to me, you stupid old snake!” Aziraphale loops his arms around Crowley’s neck, forcing his eyes on him. “The bloke I fancy, as you so eloquently put it, is the one who’s known me my entire existence. Who drinks with me and goes out to lunch with me. Who fights beside me and stays with me, even when I call him ridiculous. Who comes back even when he threatens to run away.” Crowley’s eyes drop to his feet, unable to look at his angel while he’s being reminded of his less-than-stellar attempt to persuade Aziraphale to abandon Earth and join him out in the stars … which ended with his saying he’d go off on his own and never think about him again. “I don’t care if we don’t talk about books. It’s enough that you sit beside me while I read and hold my hand. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Why in the world would you think I’d want someone else when I have the best possible person for me already?”

“’dunno.” Crowley shrugs. “All we do is hang out here lately. I think, maybe, I was afraid you might be getting bored with me. That tying yourself down to a domesssticated demon might not be what you signed up for.”

“Bored with you?” Aziraphale snorts. “After 6000 years, you think I’d get bored with you now? You seem to forget that during the decades we weren’t together, my time was spent here. You were the one jet-setting around the world. By rights, I think you should be getting bored with me. With my life.”

“Oh, no,” Crowley says, sliding closer. “You, my darling, could never get boring.”

Aziraphale raises a skeptical brow. “You forget, I’m much better at detecting sarcasm now than I was 6000 years ago.”

“That wasn’t sarcasm.” Crowley snakes his arms around his husband’s waist. “I can’t think of any place I’d rather be than here, wasting my days with you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. But maybe it is time we take a vacation.”

“Yesss,” Crowley hisses happily. “Go to all the old haunts, relive the glory days.”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. “Otherwise known as last month.”

“You pick first. We’ll go anywhere you want to go. We can pack up my Bentley and leave tonight.”

“Well, tomorrow night.”

Crowley grimaces. “Why tomorrow night?”

“Ryan said he’d be back at 2:30 tomorrow and ...”

Crowley grabs Aziraphale’s collar and (carefully) pushes him up against the nearest wall. He presses him there with his body, tries his hardest to be intimidating, but it doesn’t dim Aziraphale’s grin a single degree.

It never does.

“Not … funny … angel.”

“No?” Aziraphale’s gaze drifts to his husband’s lips the way it always seems to when Crowley has him in this position.

“No,” Crowley says, accepting the invitation of those baby blues and kissing his angel softly. “Not one little bit.”

“You can tell me all about it when we hit the road,” Aziraphale says. “And we’d better make it quick. We’re burning daylight.”

 ***Notes: Let me guys know if you want to see a part 2 where Crowley actually meets our dear Mr. Ryan XD