#holy hell go listen to journey

[shabolt]

I love looking at how various movies and shows are scored. The way music can absolutely elevate a decent scene to an even stronger state, by just using itself as a vehicle to further the subtext of a moment is really amazing.

But ISTG when a scene features a critical moment where the actions within are being being backed by an orchestral revamp of the media’s main theme

I ABSOLUTELY LOSE IT! It’s like my media criticism brain just reverts to a lizard state. It is just such a guilty pleasure way of creating an insane amount of synergy between the auditory and the visual.

A piece of music that does this perfectly, is ‘Journey’ by Michael Salvatori, Skye Lewin, and performed by the Chronos Quartet. This piece is featured in Destiny 2’s original story. Wherein you first hear it as you are fleeing your city, your home. You are a godlike being that had their powers stricken from you by mortals who were stronger, and now all you have left is your guide, and a dream given to you by your deity.

The music creeps around in the background as you journey through the wartorn streets and icy mountains as you search desperately for any point of refuge.

But later, you have found new allies, rebuilt your power and risen from the ashes. And you march to take back your city

AND BAM, FULL ORCHESTRAL REPRISE OF JOURNEY JUST HITS YOU WITH EVERYTHING IT HAS

The music punctuates your journey so insanely perfectly, you feel it all just wash down upon you like a waterfall breaking loose of a dam.

Music is a powerful thing, and using music in a way where it grows alongside your story is an evergreen concept

[rreskk]

HEADCANONS: Fem!reader in a relationship with the Holy Trinity

MICHAEL DE SANTA – - “Ah, I’m sorry honey. The movies on.” His love language depends on how much quality time interferes with his own interests. While it may seem neglecting, you’ll come to understand that he’s in his own world. And he makes up by gifting you presents – unwanted or not – trying to reamend the many times he’s bailed on dates, etc. - He may have been a charming man at first, but being in a relationship with Michael really highlights his unfamiliarity with intimacy and connection. He’ll find it hard to communicate his wants due to that barrier between short-term desire and long-term love. You’re usually the one to make a move and give him a foundation to build his trust on. - Michael loves to be glamoured with your compliments and praises. One time he bought a new suit and showed you. After commenting on how handsome he looked, it encouraged him to dive deeper, attempting to drink and eat healthier products but also wear more fitting outfits. You make him look more presentable as you provide support and comfort. - He is a father! When dating a father, here comes responsibilities like parenting advice, and what NOT to say. You’ve experienced how dysfunctional he is. Michael knows he’s a troubling father and he listens to your advice – to an extent. He’ll mostly always add a little twist that completely destroys the meaning of your words, but it’s the consideration that counts. And maybe the tearfulness of his children after. And you annoyance because he dismissed your advice. But hey, that’s Michael! - “You’re dating a movie producer, honey.” Michael will always find a way to be prideful. In all cases where you find a flaw, he’ll shrug it off by mentioning how successful he is (in these flaws), making it sound like a good thing by paradox-ing whatever the hell he’s done – whether that’s criminality or being a selfish ass. -Surprisingly vanilla in the bedroom department. The typical rose petals on the bed and his infamous boxer shorts for when sexy time does occur. Though vanilla, it’s charming because it’s Michael. It’s more bonding he focusses on. Because he’s a bit estranged romantically, he tries to ensure sexual activity is maintained. - He invites you into this nostalgic journey. Allowing him to reminisce really brightens his mood. Even more if you engage and ask questions. It may boost his ego, but he’ll assume you are genuinely interested. - Out of the trio, due to his maturity (even that?) and experience, he’s the most likely to keep you out of the criminality, and so he should! Michael protects you from any dangers and will seclude you from his own issues.

TREVOR PHILIPS – - “What do you mean you were busy?” The most clingiest. He’s very dependant when you earn his trust. Everything has to be outwardly expressed, whether that’s a doctors appointment or Jerry from down the road talking about his heater breaking. Trevor won’t even be interested but he’ll feel safe knowing due to his trust issues. You may get interrogated a lot when you forget to tell him certain things, but if you apologise MEANINGFULLY, he’ll forgive you. Maybe… (The grudge stays there though). - He does carry this intense aura around him and it gets a bit uncomfortable. Trevor has got something constantly making him angry or sad, so you’ll have to deal with this baggage, even if that’s listening to him rant or holding him – as requested. It’s better to say nothing because if you try and be rational, he’ll assume you are devaluing his feelings. - “Why are you closing the door? Leave it open. Ain’t no one here except me.” Trevor does not understand privacy and boundaries. You could be going to the bathroom or wanting time to yourself and he’ll demand you leave the door open. For no reason. He just like hearing you shuffle around. It makes him feel less alone and more safe. However, it can be annoying for you since you are forced to deal with his smell and intensive clinginess. - Very touchy and physical. Trevor has a high sex-drive and will crave bedroom time A LOT. From quickies to a passionate 3 session afternoon which leaves you both gasping for water and the bible. He does make you feel loved though. Not an inch of your skin has been left cold. He has touched you all. One way or another… - Unfortunately includes you in his drama a lot. Trevor doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, let alone his impulses. And he gets into situations all the time. You are either a target of revenge or a cover-up. No in between. SOS babe, you’re in some trouble.

FRANKLIN CLINTON – - He treasures normality out of them all. Franklin craves a normal relationship where you do your own thing, and he does too. Independence is key. However, sometimes you’ll wonder why he hasn’t messaged in days after he left the house last Tuesday. It can strain a bit of your relationship as you don’t share much details about your everyday life, so you have no idea about the activities he gets up to. Vise versa. - “You need a ride out?” Franklin is also observant though. He sees you getting ready and offers you a ride. He sees you looking for something, offers to look. He sees you frustrated, he offers a solution. Despite being the youngest, he’s got a heart of gold towards  the people he loves. - You don’t have to prove your self-worth by being sexually active. Franklin is open-minded enough to understand boundaries and feelings. Just because you’re distant that day doesn’t mean you hate him, and he knows that. Just because you haven’t been sexually active in the past month doesn’t mean you hate him, he knows that too. - Franklin tries to keep you out of his business but sometimes information slips. He can trust the wrong people and get into some trouble, causing you to be a target of revenge. He tries to be private but he’ll talk to people he’ll deem “trustworthy”, and sometimes they can be the wrong people. - Takes you out a lot in dates. You’ll visit new diners, movies, bars, discos. Whatever. Franklin loves quality time and will ensure you are taken out every week. That’s how he bonds. You can share memories and moments together, whether that’s funny memories or romantic, or maybe sad. He finds value in everything. - The people he surround himself with can strain the relationship. Criminals and gangsters. He’ll invite strange people home and you’ll have to deal with their antiques. Franklin shrugs it off as it’s “business”, but you’ll always find the strangers invading your personal space and privacy. Dangerous strangers as well. It puts you on edge.

[gildedneon]

That Which I Cannot See

That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 

Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.

Read on Ao3

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So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*

“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in. 

“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell? 

I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.

What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.

“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send. 

“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”

What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???

*ping*

The DM from the manager comes in. 

On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.

Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.

“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”

“Alright??… spill bitch”

-------------

My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.

“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting  and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone. 

I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.

My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face. 

“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.

The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.

A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…

I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.

“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases. 

“Thank you. How does what feel?”

“Your transformation.”

“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.

“Your true self.”

“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”

“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”

“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”

“A lot can happen in just one night.”

Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.

“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”

I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”

Vessel tilts his head.

“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.

“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.

“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”

I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.

“Touch, for example.” 

His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.

“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.” 

“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic. 

The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?

Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.

“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.

“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone. 

Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.

“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill. 

“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet 

“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.

“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.

I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us. 

“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.

-------------

Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.

Well, I know what you want from me

You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception

Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave

Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?  

Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?

Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.

Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails

I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.

You make me wish I could disappear

The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.

I dream in phosphorescence 

Bleed through spaces

My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me. 

His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind. 

I’m transfixed as he sings to me.

My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre. 

A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.

The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.

I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden

Our melody turns into harmonious wails. 

Take me back to Edeeeennn

My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek. 

“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played. 

Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up

He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.

I need you to see me for what I have become

Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus. 

My, my those eyes like fire 

My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind. 

His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.

I guess it goes to show does it not 

That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it

His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence

Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out. 

Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.

The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight

So give me the night, the night, the night…

-------------

We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers. 

We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.

Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.

“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.

“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.

“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.

“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls. 

Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.

“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.” 

“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”

“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“I did.  I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.

“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body

“Yes.” I breathe..

“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves. 

Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination

Tentatively, I recite the words.

Take a look and you’ll see

Into your imagination

There is no life I know

To compare with pure imagination

His voice joins mine. 

Living there, you’ll be free

I stop, allowing him to finish the verse

If you truly wish to be

Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.

If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it

Anything you want to, do it

My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.

“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek. 

“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.

“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.

“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me. 

“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch. 

“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim. 

“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.

“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.

“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.

“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.

“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me. 

“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.

“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.

“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.

“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.

“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”

I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak. 

“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.

“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.

“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.

“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.

“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.

“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.

“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal. 

“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones. 

“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.

“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”

“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.

[arthur-lesters-pinky-finger]

(Spoilers kinda for ep 45?)

Just listened to the new episode FINALLY and holy shit. I feel like this episode is so discretely monumental to both main characters, and it's so discrete because it's not really like "this is the end of an era", but rather "this is a halfway mark on a very important journey".

Of course, we have Arthur finally sort of accepting hope into his life, accepting that he is worthy of living despite himself is SO important. But also, John is genuinely such a good friend in this episode??? I always think of the pod as centered around their friendship and holy hell this is such a moment for them. I mean, he's truly empathetic! This god, whose original mentality was "I've been alive for so long and I'm so Great that nothing matters, why would your feelings matter?", is sitting with his friend and going "Arthur... this must remind you of this horrible thing" and he's just a comforting presence.

And that too! When Arthur is given the choice between an item and a truth you're expecting a little discussion between the two- but no, John is completely silent. Because now he's gained this empathy, and this love and trust for Arthur, and he understands that this is a gift entirely dedicated to Arthur for having stayed alive despite losing his child. John, who mocked Arthur for letting her die in the dream lands, who barely ever dared speak of her for like three seasons, understands this pain Arthur carries, understands the weight of Malam's first question ("a man kills a child, does homework deserve to die?")

This is a milestone for them because this is one of the first times that John's humanity isn't put into contrast with an act of monstrosity Arthur commits. They are coming to accept that they love each other, that they need each other, and John shows this through this little act of acceptance (stepping back, and letting Arthur carry this conversation despite having questions or feeling left out), and Arthur shows this through honesty and being vulnerable. Both are nothing new, but I mean come on, it's so rare to see them mixed together like this.

(I'm aware of how pretentious this sounds but I just love this episode so much. This season is so gut wrenching but so soft, I love it, and I'm not one to theorize, so I just like pointing things out :D )

[lol-jackles]

https://www.tumblr.com/teamfreewill2pointo/750106101611151360/hi-finale-anon-here-thank-you-so-much-for-your

I’d love to get your take on this post. I don’t agree with it. Supernatural was about Sam’s hero journey which the finale completes the arc established over the 15 seasons.

Why is it difficult for people to see the basic and timeless story construct?

Supernatural is Sam Winchester's Hero Journey, it's all here in the "Hero Journey" tag. Dean Winchester is a very popular character, the awesome sauce but not the main course, which I explained in the "Support Protagonist" tag.

Link. Here I had thought Will viewed the finale through Destiel-rose-colored glasses but it turned out he was interpreting it through BiBro-stanning-lens. And Will's proof that SPN is just as much as about Dean as it is about Sam is, wait for it, "Dean was given a myth arc"', as in singular.... out of 15 seasons. Did he mean season 10? Because according to Jensen, season 10 was a “rare Dean centric storyline” and how "Dean's rarely in this position of being the focal point of the general story's motivation," (X). Is Will disregarding Jensen's own words?

Will: "you can't remove one brother without the whole thing falling apart."

True you can't remove Sam, otherwise there is no story. Once Jared planned to leave SPN, WB canceled the series. Remove Dean and with some minor tweaking, SPN will mostly still be the same (X) but it probably wouldn't have lasted 15 seasons. It would be more like Buffy with 7 seasons. (X)

Will: Sam returned to the ordinary world and got a wife and child because it did it for Dean.

Actually Dean gave his blessing and permission for Sam to return to the ordinary life he always wanted for himself. It's why season 15 clumsily shoehorned "Drag Me Away" episode just a few weeks from the finale to remind the audience that Sam wanted out of the hunting life since he was a kid. Yes Sam went to hell for Dean but it was unquestionable that Sam also did it to save the world. It set Sam apart from Dean's motive for going to hell which was only to save Sam, he didn't care about the world.

Will: "everything Sam did was for Dean".

Yes, by giving up his own desire for an ordinary life so that Dean wouldn't be alone. Sam told Charlie back in season 9 that he only stayed in the hunting life because he loved Dean. But that's not enough for AA stans and even some Bibro stans because they may have realized that Dean and the hunting world is the "belly of the beast" that every protagonist enters as part of their hero journey arc, which goes against their personal biases or agendas.

Will's Anon was only talking up to Return of the Jedi in their Star Wars analogy and Sam never became a witch and he never "used his powers". Holy smoke that was the whole point of depowering Sam after season 5 so that he doesn't end up an ex dues machina! Or am I mis-reading Will's writing and he was actually talking about Sam's power in the first 5 seasons?? Regardless, Sam is NOT a witch, what the heck is Will smoking???

Will, listen to me carefully: Luke's hero journey goal was to become a Jedi. Sam's hero journey goal was to return to the ordinary world. It was never supposed to be a one-to-one comparison, Kripke never said that.

Now we come to Will's streaming value argument by using the 2023 chart to "prove" that the Carry On finale isn't driving equal watch time for each season. How is that supposed to even make sense? Will is ignoring the very basic human nature of simply tiring out from watching so many episodes. The rate of decreasing viewership from season to season is fairly consistent. Unlike hellers, the general viewers will start with the first season and gradually peter out.

A bad series finale will kill the popularity of the show and gets memory-holed. A disappointing series finale will put a big question mark in the rewatch value. "Carry On" finale did none of this because it made narrative sense, as Jensen said when he paraphrased what Kripke told him.

See my "Carry On finale is awesome and here's bunch of reasons why" tag.

[drconstellation]

Aziraphale-Beelzebub Parallels

Aziraphale's Edinburgh Journey: Part 2

I've already written a series on how Crowley and Gabriel act as parallels and foils to each other in S2. Their other halves - their partners - also act as each other's parallels. I mentioned this briefly in the second post in that series, but here we need to expand on this.

We also need to talk about Maggie.

I think most people identify that there is good case for a many parallels between Aziraphale and Maggie as well. But when you consider Aziraphale-Beelzebub-Maggie together in a character triangle, Maggie suddenly starts to make a lot more sense. And I believe there is one more peculiar element thrown in that she is reflecting back to us as well about Aziraphale that has made her particularly hard to understand on top of all that.

But let's look at the Aziraphale-Beelzebub related parallels first.

They hold the highest ranking position

Beezlebub holds the highest ranking position in Hell under Satan, as the Grand Duke. They leave a vacancy at the end of the series, that we are yet to see filled.

For most of S2 the Supreme Archangel is missing - and it is only right at the end that we see Aziraphale step up and accept the offered role.

Two things to mention here:

One might argue that the Metatron is higher in ranking than the Supreme Archangel, but for purposes of this discussion he doesn't seem to have much to do with the day-to-day running of things like the Supreme Archangel would. Gabriel was also the one who appeared on the tarmac at Tadfield Airbase opposite Beelzebub when things weren't going to plan in S1.

Secondly, this is where I would like to start introducing the concept that we are being shown Aziraphale's future story in S2. Such as Aziraphale's future role as Supreme Archangel, however long he holds on to it.

I don't know how difficult it will be to demonstrate this as we go along from here, but I'm going to try and point out places where I think we are being shown glimpses of the future - foreshadowing - and a lot of them come through Maggie. Not all, though, there are exceptions, but we'll discuss them in due course. Such as in the next parallel.

They need words of affirmation

Crowley isn't the most loquacious character but he's not shy of boosting his angel's ego when it's needed. Whether it's encouraging Aziraphale to go big on stage in 1941 or supporting his detective efforts in Edinburgh Crowley is still going to put in a good word or two for Aziraphale's sake.

AZIRAPHALE: [over phone]: I think I've found some clues. And do you remember the statue of Gabriel in the graveyard in Edinburgh? I'm looking at it now. CROWLEY: Mmm, good job. AZIRAPHALE: Oh, do you really think so?

We know Beelzebub needs words of affirmation as well because they ask Demon Josh this:

BEELZEBUB: Do you ever think, wouldn't it just be nice if someone told you what a good job you're doing? DEMON JOSH: In hell? BEELZEBUB: Yeah.

Hang on, just a minute...Demon Josh...?

The demon who appears to be acting as the Personal Assistant/Secretary to the Grand Duke of Hell?

There is an old thread that points out that Greasy Johnson's name is basically another form of Jesus Christ. The TL:DR version is that Joshua aka Oily Josh is another form of Jesus.

So Beelzebub has Demon Jesus as her assistant.

Remember I was trying to tell you we are seeing future echoes of Aziraphale's story in S3 here? Jesus as the right hand of the Supreme Archangel, perhaps?

They give gifts

A S1 crossover, Beelzebub gives Gabriel the Tardis-like fly storage container, and Aziraphale gives Crowley the thermos of holy water in 1967 to stop the crazy caper he was planning to steal some. Both acts were done unprompted at the time.

They enjoy music

We've seen Aziraphale with his phonograph in action several times, and in S2E1 we see him in the midst of listening to the Shostakovitch records he got from Maggie when the arrival of Gabriel interrupts him.

We learn Beelzebub also has an ear for a good tune when they mention they like the song they hear in the American bar during the recap scenes of their meetings with Gabriel in S2E6.

They make an offer of "betterment" to Crowley

Beelzebub's offer to Crowley that he could be a Duke of Hell if he finds Gabriel for them, all while he is lounging across the two horned thrones in S2E1, is widely seen as a prominent piece of foreshadowing for S3.

Really, the only question should be is will that be just a plain Duke or will he somehow end up in the Grand Duke of Hell position opposite of Aziraphale?

Aziraphale also made an offer to Crowley - to restore him to angelic status.

At the time, neither offer was accepted with any enthusiasm - especially the latter.

They have a date at Gabriel's statue

I have pointed out elsewhere that this is a triple-parallel with a shot from Before the Beginning, but then I remembered that the parallel with Aziraphale looking jealously at angel!Crowley was written after this date pair with Gabriel's statue.

I intend to talk about the significance of the statue in Part 4: Judgement Day, as it makes a bridge between all three seasons and it needs some thorough and lengthy discussion around it.

They go to the pub

This is another triple-parallel between the two pairs. (I think @kayleefansposts first brought this up but I can't find the post it comes from now, even though it wasn't that long ago.)

First, they both meet in a cafe:

Then they meet in a pub:

And lastly, they meet - well, lets say with alcohol on the table and an option of food?

Their partners make a reference to the absurd creativity of humanity

For some time I wondered why when Crowley came back from the pub with Aziraphale, he plucked the Jane Austen off the shelf and shouted that inane line at humanity: "You people, I will never get the hang of you lot."

Eventually I realized it was a parallel moment to when just before Gabriel miracles the jukebox in the Resurrectionist to play Every Day the first time.

GABRIEL: What's that? BARTENDER: A classic 1960s jukebox. You don't see many of them these days. You just put your money in and tell it what you want to hear. GABRIEL: Oh… You people. Amazing. [hands over money] [miracles] Ha!

Both incidences are inspired by their partners - Aziraphale inspires Crowley to look for Austen's novels and Gabriel miracles the jukebox to play the music that Beelzebub likes.

Their partners accidentally leave them on their own

Crowley was only going to take the human shopkeepers to safety, then return - but he got sidetracked with Muriel all the way up to Heaven. Thinking he would be back soon, Aziraphale didn't plan very far ahead, and that eventually led to a problem - and a long, anxious wait for the demon's return.

On his way out of Heaven, Gabriel was on his way to Hell and Beelzebub - we presume. But as soon as he put himself in the fly, he forgot, and headed to the next most memorable location in his remaining working neurons, which happened to be on Earth. Beelzebub was left wondering where he was - and very alone down there in Hell while their minions were out searching for him. @noneorother shows what happens to the thrones while they wait.

So, about Maggie, then...

Understanding Aziraphale and Beelzebub as a parallel pair helps us to understand Maggie a little better, as Maggie is actually a mix of the two characters, reflecting both of them back at the same time. I think that is why she sometimes seems like an angel and a demon at the same time - because she actually is!

I believe this would also explain the "ugrency" spelling mistake, as well as putting an emphasis on the word urgency itself for us. What is becoming urgent?

For example, Maggie always wears a combination of colours from both characters. Here we can Maggie is wearing Beelzebub's signature colours of orange and light blue, but with a white background as the angelic component.

At the ball, she wears a blue blouse - blue is a colour associated with Heaven - but its a dark, demonic shade of blue.

She tries to give a gift to Nina, that doesn't quite work, but the thought and effort is there. She's very forgiving. And she says she says she'll still be there when Nina is ready to start seeing her again; she's reflecting the future Aziraphale to us.

She doesn't want to leave the scene of danger with Crowley when its offered (sounds familiar, doesn't it? Let's go to Alpha Centauri - No! I Can't!)

She's done with being scared, she's ready to stand up and be brave and fight.

She doesn't want to leave Aziraphale on his own (even though Aziraphale still has faith Crowley will turn up any minute now and have a plan - !!) She comes up with ideas on how to fight back. This is someone who steps forward and takes control. These all look like future echoes and set-ups for parallels in S3 to me.

There's another line that no one ever talks about that I've always thought was a foreshadowing line that Crowley says to Nina:

NINA: He's never hosted a meeting, ever. Why the change of heart? CROWLEY: He's unpredictable. He's discovered his civic obligations.

The parallel to this comes from Maggie, when Crowley goes to tell her its time for the meeting/Ball, she says she never misses a meeting. If that's not part of fulfilling your "civic obligations" I don't know what is.

If there was one aspect of Beelzebub I would perhaps just mention here briefly, but not discussing at length because I want to do it elsewhere again as well, is that they twice show restraint of their power and authority - they don't pull Crowley in for punishment as a traitor, even though they could (they pulled him down to Hell for a chat pretty easily) and they don't bother to rip out Demon Josh's tongue and send him to the dung heaps that day for being talkative and annoying, even though we get the impression it happens on a regular basis. In contrast, Aziraphale and Maggie both step up a bit and take some authority on themselves towards the end.

The lists above are not exhaustive of all the parallels between the three characters, but I hope it helps to get you started in thinking about them in a different way to how you might have been.

Next we try to tie the past<-present->future parallels together as we start getting our hands dirty.

The other posts in this series can be found here:

Part 1: Detective Aziraphale Part 3: Stocktaking in the Basement Part 4: Judgement Day Part 5: I Know Where I'm Going

[thebetawolfgirl]

Her Mr Chalamet

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Timmy’s attempt at being Dom, more Smut. Role play.

A/N: Timmy and I are on this particular journey together. Also I can’t speak French to save myself so you can blame Google Translate if anything is wrong!

Her Mr Chalamet

Y/n and Timmy were sitting on the sofa just relaxing with the radio playing in the background, Timmy was asking about y/n’s school life.

She went to a private boarding school for girls and Timmy was suddenly fascinated.

‘Did you wear a school uniform too?’ He asks quietly playing with her hair.

She smirked and nodded. ‘Yes, the full thing; plaid skirt, crisp white button up and black tie with the school’s emblem on it with a sweater, or a cardigan. Depending on the weather because it was in New England, so.’

She felt him squirm underneath her and she smiled as he cleared his throat.

‘And were you a good girl?’

She leaned up and whispered in his ear ‘No. I was very very bad. I was always being told to sit on the naughty step.’

He gulped as she felt his pants tightening underneath her and ground her hips down on him making him hiss.

‘You need to find that uniform!’

She smiled turning to face him and rested her chin on his chest looking at his now black eyes, ‘Is that an order, Sir?’

‘YES!’ He choked out before grabbing her crushing his mouth against hers.

Now here she was rooting through her storage boxes in the attic looking for her old school uniform while Timmy was at a meeting with his business partner.

She eventually found the skirt and tried it on. It still fit around her hips, but now it was halfway up her thighs, it was so short now. She hadn’t worn it the final week of school at 19, she smiled knowing Timmy would be drooling over the shortness of the skirt.

She rummaged through the box and found her shirt, she decided to cut off the sleeves so it wouldn’t cut into her arms but she didn’t touch anything else, knowing the shirt would be very tight across her breasts, she was looking for her tie when she came across Timmy’s school tie and smirked grabbing it instead.

She was about to text him but decided to call him instead and tapped his name and listened to the dial tone, he picked up on the third ring.

‘Baby? What’s wrong?’

‘No no everything is fine baby, I just wanted to let you know I found that box of ‘documents’ you asked me to look for?’

She heard him curse and spill something on the other side and smirked. ‘File marked T was missing but I found another file that will be adequate for our research.’

‘Tha-that’s really good y/n. We shall start that research tonight.’ He stammered over the phone and she smiled ‘Ok have fun with your meeting, love you.’

She hung up smirking knowing it would drive him crazy wondering what she had in replacement for her school tie.

What the hell was he going to come home too, Timmy wondered sitting in his office with his business partner his knee jiggling nervously. She couldn’t find her school tie, so what was the replacement? He tried to think of what else was in that attic, he had some old keepsakes from his own childhood stored up there.

The meeting finished earlier than Timmy expected and he practically flew out of the office and jumped into his car and went off for home, he drove into the driveway and jogged up the front steps and threw the front door open remembering to lock the door and even put the chain on.

‘Y/n? Y/n?’ He called her name walking through the house until he reached his office on the second floor. He pushed the door open slowly walking in, and found her sitting on his desk her legs crossed.

The skirt she wore was tiny, and he meant tiny. He couldn’t imagine how short it was when she last wore it at school, and the shirt was very tight across her breasts and she left some of the buttons undone, but around her neck,

‘Oh holy fuck!’ She was wearing HIS school tie around her neck.

She smiled watching him and whispered his name in a sultry voice.

‘Mr Chalamet, Sir. I’m ready for my first lesson.’

He walked over to her and wrapped his hand around her throat, and nudged her thighs apart with his knee standing between them.

‘First lesson, repeat after me: Je Suis à vous. Now say it in English.’

‘I. Am. Yours.’ She repeated his words never taking her eyes off his.

He gripped her thighs and dragged her towards him as she grabbed his shirt to steady herself gasping.

‘Who do you belong too?’ He asks telling her to speak French as he leaned down to kiss her neck.

‘Je t’appartiens.’ She stammered and it earned her a spank on her hip and she squealed ‘Timmy!’

Another slap across her thigh ‘Do you call all your teachers by first name?’

‘No, Sir!’ She gasps out as he undoes his belt and jeans and pulls her off the desk pushing her forward on the desk again and realised she was wearing no panties underneath her skirt and groaned ‘Breaking school rules for uniform regulation Miss y/l/n?’

He brought his hand down on her left cheek earning another shriek from her. He looked over her shoulder to see her biting her lip trying not to smirk ‘Something funny Miss y/n?’

She let out a breath ‘I didn’t wear panties for you Sir! Only for you.’

He grit his teeth and pushed his fingers inside her tightness making her whimper, moving her hips against his fingers ‘What do you want? Tell me what you want!’

She stammered as he shoved three of his fingers inside her and she gripped the edge of the desk.

‘Tell me. Say what you want!’

‘I want your dick inside of me!’

He growled and grabbed her hips in a bruising grip and slammed into her making her scream his name and began to rut his hips into hers.

He leaned over her and pulled her shirt down from the collar and bit down on her shoulder hard making her moan and throw her head back against his shoulder, she wrapped her arm around his neck gripping his hair and turned to kiss him hard.

He kissed back ramming into her from behind before turning her head to the side and removed HIS tie from her shirt and tied it around her wrists tightly before pulling out making her whine.

He turned her over before gripping her jaw and forcing his tongue into her mouth, kissing her hard. He ripped her shirt open breaking the buttons off, he pushed her back onto the desk before kneeling in front of her and began licking her pussy making her gasp, he gripped her thighs smirking and continued eating her.

‘Your punishment for disobeying the uniform regulations is you can’t cum until I say so.’

He head a guttural growl and knew if she wasn’t currently tied up with his tie she would be ripping him apart and making this HIS punishment. He would pay for it later when their little game was finished, he continued to devour her lapping up her wetness, sucking and pushing his tongue in teasingly. He was getting harder himself just listening to her groans and her whimpers as he ate her out, he heard her whispering his name like a prayer and knew this was her way of getting back at him without actually doing anything.

He could feel his cock leaking precum and had enough of this torture, he stood up crawling on to the desk on top of her and gripped her thighs holding them open ‘Fuck this. Just come for me!’

He rammed into her hard and deep and relished in her screams washing over him and collapsed on top of her continuing to rut into her knocking everything off his desk in the process, he untied her and entwined his fingers with hers as she shoved her other hand into his hair before pulling him up and crushing her lips against his in a hungry kiss.

He pushed her further up the desk with the force of his thrusts and ripped her blouse off her shoulders tearing the fabric to shreds as he felt himself approaching his release, he moved his head and clamped his lips around her nipple and sucked and bit down so they could come together and heard her shriek and felt her squeeze his dick making him come with her.

He buried his face in her neck and nibbled her skin shaking in her arms in the aftermath.

He felt his body completely melt under her touch as she swept her fingers through his damp hair and out of his face and whimpered.

‘You did great baby, you made a very good teacher and disciplinarian.’ He revelled in the praise and sighed nuzzling her neck.

‘No more teacher for me though. I prefer being the one getting coddled.’

She smiled and removed his soaked through shirt, tossing it and let him pick her up over to the sofa and laying on top of her again which made her chuckle.

‘I’ve spoiled you too much. You’re such a baby.’

‘I’m your baby. I belong to you!’

He mumbled against her neck nibbling on her skin making her smile.

He reached up and pecked her lips while kicking off his jeans and shorts onto the floor as she deepens the kiss, holding him against her, he pulled her on top of him and lay underneath her kissing her slowly.

She lifted her hips and sank down on him again making his breathing to become laboured and run his hands up and down her waist.

‘Fuck you’re a Goddess!’ She smiled and began to ride him rocking her hips against his before she leaned down to capture his lips in a deep kiss. He ran his hands up her back digging his fingers into her shoulders panting against her lips, she moved her lips down his jawline and bit and nipped his neck earning a whimper from him as she began to ride him harder into the cushions of the sofa slamming her hips down against his hearing him groan against her neck.

She sat up bringing him with her and saw his pupils blown jet black and kissed his lips gently in contrast to her hips slamming down on his before shoving him back down and riding him hard and wrapped her hand around his throat seeing his eyes widen.

‘Come baby!’ As she told him she felt him explode inside her his eyes rolling back into his head making her come after him and fell onto his chest gasping against his neck as she was still feeling his ropes shooting inside her.

She lifted her knees up on either side of his waist while sliding her hand underneath his back and pulled his hips up against hers feeling his nails dig deep into her skin as his cum went deeper into her and lay her head on his shoulder looking at him as he slowly came down from his post orgasm high.

She always loved how his orgasms lasted longer than hers, and how it took him longer to recover from them afterwards.

He moved his head tiredly and nuzzled his nose against hers before burying his face against her neck and sucked on the skin at her collarbone as she stroked his hair.

‘Sleep my sweet Mr Chalamet.’ She whispered against his ear as he sighed leaving his mark on her and wrapped his arms around her waist after making sure she was against the cushions while he lay on the edge of the sofa cocooning her.

She wrapped the throw over them and slid her arm around his waist before falling asleep.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

@mel-vaz

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 15

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

It's chapter 15! Time to figure out what happened to SQQ in the latest cliff hangar.

Today no tea- but I did have a blackberry cider that was very tasty.

I also did impulse buy a baby's-first-fountain pen to get into my little writing flow and add to the ambiance of my note taking journey. So, pls ignore the worse-than-usual writing; I am learning to write with it.

let's goooooo!

Well, SQQ appears to be in a coffin? p29

fuck, i'm already smudging the ink with my new pen. The lefty curse of it all. IDK how much of this is going to be legible later. RIP

okay... but how long has he been in here? MXTX is describing everything as dusty as hell. p30 (resolved as I read further- not very long LOL)

and he has his original body! That's exciting! Who did it though?? p30

LOL SQQ has 0 chance with this "advanced level plot" p31. He is totally fucked for sure.

These 'blind corpses' sound like a walking horror show. I would be so scared omg. I don't know how far the animated series got- but if this is animated that would look cool as fuck. p32

okay! they're fueled by breath! that's really neat though! pp33-34 Scary, but cool.

I would die immediately in this situation. When the thing (blind corpses) that are already horrible and unbeatable are scared of something else -> absolutely no hope in surviving. p35

ah, it is our little snake-man. I had a suspicion this was related to him and Luo Binghe's dad. He probably took SQQ's corpse too and brought it here. p35

OMG LOL Luo Binghe's dad is awful, but also feels like a troll AND is serving dad jokes. Re: thinking back to when SQQ knocked on the coffin and he answered from inside LOOOL. p36

Listen. Can we just take a moment to appreciate the absolute DILF that is Luo Binghe's father? I am a whole lesbian but that character art cannot objectively argued as anything else. p37

and now SQQ is going on about Tianlang-jun having BDE (not those exact words but I mean when you say he's working that coffin like it's a Paris fashion week runway and Luo binghe - the man you are obsessed with- could NEVER, it says something.). p38

That fucking power move too! SQQ: seems you've waited a while to meet me, why don't you come out of there and do so. Tianlang-jun: *bats eyes* okay but only if you hold my hand and work for it p39

SQQ has this habit of getting kidnapped "for his own good" but no one ever tells him why it's good for him XD this entire situation is so annoying. Tianlang-jun did this all so that he could get him away from the sects he wanted to destroy. p43

OMG scratch that. He also wants to use him as bait to snatch his sons body as his own. p45.

aside: I'm going to have to organize these notes later- I'm not catching the nuance in the hand written notes LOL my brain is processing faster than my hand (you will notice that the last 2 points here do not match my hand written notes because they were a hot mess).

What an entrance Luo Binghe! p47

Yes SQQ! You rescue your man from his dad (RE: holding Zhuzhi lang hostage) p51

holy shit. Zhuzhi lang is WILD - he really was about to just die instead of be a hostage LOL p52 I want to know what his character motivation is. He's giving the same blind trust energy as The Core Melting Hand in MDZS. Both just so loyal to a fault/their own demise. Do we learn more? or is this it? (genuine question- don't tell me WHAT we learn, just yes/no if we learn more).

That was so smart to hit the anti-theft measures in the tomb p53

aaaaaaaand he snatched the wrong person on the escape. well, that's fantastic. p54

I am loving the traps in this mausoleum though! The face with the magma and then the various rooms. I want to know if this exists as a D&D dungeon crawl/anyone has made one, I think it would be so fun. p59

omg. I don't think that Luo Binghe realizes/knows that that was his own father and cousin. that's so terrible. Truly Luo Binghe was treated so fucking badly literally his entire life. His dad does not even give a shit. Honestly probably only had him for this situation - needing a new body. p61

:((((( Our boy, Luo Binghe is in a bad way rn. gah! so many cliff hangers. p63

MXTX Cliffhangar Lord

And now I have to wait until tomorrow to see if baby Luo Binghe makes it. I'm sure SQQ is going to do something about it but dang, he is not well.

[monstersdownthepath]

Empyreal Lord: Andoletta, Grandmother Crow

CR 28

Lawful Good Medium Outsider

Heaven Unleashed, pg. 16~18

Surprise! A special capstone for this month devoted to all that's good in the world.

Andoletta here has the same unenviable position as Furcas, in that she doesn't exist on the internet beyond some vague numbers on the wiki. No presence in the Archives of Nethys, no copyright-free version on d20pfsrd, nothing. Much like Furcas, the most we have are the stats of her weapon of choice, a +5 Anchoring Ghost Touch Holy Quarterstaff that's often masquerading as simple walking stick, the Artifact known as Helicyon. When I first found her in Heaven Unleashed as I was seeking more information on Divine Heralds, I was gobsmacked to see her at all! What other secrets are hiding in books I've never read?!

Grandmother Crow also has the actual enviable position of being the ONLY Archon Empyreal Lord with stats. Yes, even the shining paladin Ragathiel is an Angel, not an Archon, and Andoletta puts all future potential archons to shame by being one their best. The ultimate grandmother to all beings, Andoletta takes pains to remind her peers that winning a war means nothing if there's nothing left back home worth protecting, and as such, she watches over the most peaceful of Heaven's many kingdoms, caring for the souls within who have no desire or ability to fight in the crusades against Evil and even venturing into the mortal world at the edges of war-torn kingdoms to shepherd the lost, lonely, grieving, and innocent to better lives, masquerading as... Well, nothing. As one of the most human-looking celestials, she really has no need or desire to change herself (though she can take on the shape of a crow, raven, or tengu when needed), so her most common "disguise" is just walking around as herself, a stern old woman with a cloak of crow feathers who seeks those needing her advice.

It should come as no surprise to those even passingly familiar with fantasy stories that you should never question the advice of an elder with an eccentric accessory. When she speaks, it is of the utmost importance that you listen, for what she has to say will always be what you needed to hear, no matter what that may be. If you are grieving, you'll be consoled. If you are hopeless, you'll be encouraged. If you're questioning, she'll have the answer. If you're an idiot, she'll say it to your face, and then give you advice on how to smarten up. For the majority of her existence, Andoletta eschews the idea of conflict and instead focuses on offering little comforts to those in need, especially children; a kind word, needed advice, a basket of food, or even just something as simple as a reassuring hand on the shoulder or a glass of milk on the nightstand to help someone troubled go back to sleep. It's these small acts of kindness that she specializes in, the tiny comforts she feels build people into being better overall, giving them the tiny push they need to keep going.

Of course, that CR 28 isn't just for show. Andoletta is never the first to join a fight, preferring life on the homestead, but any fiend attacking what they believe to be a harmless old woman or threatening the lives of children in her care is in for a hell of a reality check.

Let's begin with her aforementioned weapon of choice: Helicyon. It's said that Grandmother Crow's divine power erupted into existence once she gained an understanding the secrets of an ancient willow tree which whispered the truth of the past to her. It was reduced to a single branch when a jealous archon attempted the same, only to find that pathway to enlightenment allowed only one creature to pass, forcing Andoletta to take that branch and turn it into a walking stick she can call to her hand from across any distance.

she presumably did that after giving the idiotic soldier of Heaven a solid whacking for such an egregious show of short-sighted envy.

Beyond just being a reminder of Andoletta's journey to divinity, Helicyon is her primary whackin' stick, and it's deadly enough to give pause to whatever Balor or Pit Fiend thought it'd be funny to swing on an old lady. This +5 Anchoring Ghost Touch Holy Quarterstaff can be swung up to seven times a round for 1d6+14 (+2d6 vs Evil) damage, with the Anchoring ability giving her the amusing option to slam it down into someone's foot or pushing them against a wall with its end in their chest and pinning them in place while she lectures them on how stupid they are to make her resort to such measures. And her lecture would work, too, because anyone struck by Helicyon must make a DC 25 Will save or be filled with Overwhelming Grief at every tragedy that's occurred in the entirety of creation since their existence started, unable to take any actions for up to 28 rounds unless they succeed the save again at some point during the effect. This crushing remorse is so potent it penetrates all defenses, including Mythic and deific protection, and no creature is immune to it, even if they don't have emotions. The only way to avoid the grief is to succeed the saving throw (any of the saves it offers will do), at which point there's a 24-hour immunity clause to prevent Grandma from stun-locking someone for minutes at a time.

While her melee may not seem intimidating at first, she's got a large pick of spells from the Inquisitor spell list she can invoke as swift actions, including Forceful Strike (+10d4 damage Force damage plus a free Bull Rush on a melee attack), Burst of Speed (+20 movement speed, movement doesn't trigger AoOs, can move through enemy spaces), and perhaps most dangerously for her foes: Litany of Righteousness, which causes the target to take double damage from the attacks of creatures with a Good alignment aura, including herself and her own attacks, for one round. 1d6+14 isn't impressive, but 2d6+28 up to seven times? There's an appropriate trope for this.

She has more than just a handful of Inquisitor spells, of course; among a handful of charming and helpful spells (such as Daylight, Plant Growth, and Calm Emotions), her combat options include a 3/day Dictum and Greater Dispel Magic, and the oxymoronic Quickened Slow to mire her foes with a lengthy stagger, making it much harder for them to harm her in a meaningful way... which is good, because she kind of needs it.

Unlike most demigods, Andoletta has comparatively fewer defenses. Her DR 15 is much harder to pierce than many other Good-aligned demigods, requiring a weapon that's Evil-aligned and Epic, but her low 10 Regeneration is suppressed by ANY exposure to Evil. She's got most of the Demigod Suite of immunities including proof against charm/compulsion, energy drain, ability score damage, poison, death, and petrification... but because grandma needs her naps and has arthritis, she's not immune to sleep or paralysis. In addition, her ONLY elemental resistance is immunity to Electricity when most creatures at her level are swinging around Fire and Cold with incredible ferocity. She doesn't even have Freedom of Movement available to her, leaving her terribly vulnerable to entangling effects, paralysis, or even just difficult terrain, which can prevent her from initiating with her otherwise-intimidating Spring Attack.

Thankfully, her lack of in-built defenses is somewhat mollified by her other unique abilities. She has the Primal Aura of all Empyreal Lords, her unique aura stretching to create a 30ft Circle of Protection From Evil, shielding everything inside from the attacks, spells, and effects of any Evil creature while also preventing any summoned Evil creature from setting a single toe inside. Anyone with 10 or less Hit Dice that's inside the aura is also shielded by an empowered Sanctuary effect that requires a DC 39 Will save to attack through... unless the fight takes place in Heaven, at which point the Sanctuary effect is completely unbreakable, resetting every round even if the protected creature attacks. The primary use of this power is, obviously, shielding civilians, as any attacker quickly finds out they can't bring their weapon against any innocent, costing them their action for the round and often allowing Andoletta to punish them for the attempt.

This isn't her only means of protecting her wards and allies, either; several of her lord and Inquisitor spells are for the benefit of others, like Litany of Escape and Litany of Warding, but she can also cause a mass-Sanctuary by standing tall and using Wing Snap. This 1/day thunderous crack of her hidden crow wings dispels fear effects from any number of creatures of her choosing within 30ft and shields them with Sanctuary, while any Evil creature within the radius must succeed a DC 39 Fortitude save or take 5d6 Sonic damage and be struck deaf for 2d6 rounds. This power can only be used when she has her Crow Feather Cape, but the indestructible artifact returns to her every 24 hours even if she's gifted it to someone, so she more or less always has it on her anyway.

Why would she give her cape away, though? Typically as a test. Anyone bearing her Crow Feather Cape is shielded by the immensely powerful Winds of Vengeance spell for 24 entire hours, a spell that's potent offensively and defensively. A creature shrouded by the cape can thus fly at 60ft/round through any environment and gains immunity to ALL projectile-based ranged attacks, 90% of existing breath weapons, and all gas/vapor-based attacks, spells, and effects. Anything striking a shrouded creature in melee has to make a DC 39 Fortitude save or take 5d6 damage and be knocked prone (or knocked from the sky, if it was flying), potentially ending a Full-Attack and allowing a retaliatory Full-Attack from the wielder with extra accuracy bonuses thanks to the victim being knocked prone.

Any creature that violates a just law while blessed with the cape not only immediately loses its power over winds, but has their voice stolen and replaced with the helpless squawking of a crow until they get the curse broken or until Andoletta removes it with a thought, typically followed by a stern lecture. It's an unbelievably powerful tool she can hand out to someone she thinks may use it correctly... but in my readings of this ability, there seems to be absolutely no restrictions in place which prevent Grandmother Crow from using the ability on herself as a move action, giving her insurmountable defenses against anyone trying to hit her from a range and blasting anyone hitting her in melee off their feet, letting her either lay into them with her staff... or use its Anchoring ability to pin them to the ground so she can advise them against going any further.

In the end, that's all she really wants. She is the least warlike of all the Archons; she's not made to fight, and in fact abhors actually doing so, battling only when innocent lives are on the line and even then only until her wards have fled the fight before she teleports, Time Stops, or Plane Shifts away herself. She's more likely to trip up, disable, debuff, and humiliate her foes than actually kill them, humbling them so that they may listen to her words and, eventually, internalize them. With age comes wisdom, with wisdom comes patience, and Andoletta is patient enough to watch for every minute crack and fracture in even the most staunchly evil soul in the hopes that she can jam it wide enough to plant a seed of good.

And if that fails, she tends to just hold off her attacker long enough for a finisher to come along, because Heaven knows there are plenty of them around, ready to jump to Grandma's defense.

Andoletta's stats are not available via official channels, but I did find them here. The stats for her staff, however, are on the Archives here.

[cheerfullycatholic]

FAITH features a priest on a mission to remedy a failed exorcism that took place the year before. The game is rife with terrifying monsters, eerie music, and bone-chilling notes that spell out the story of what exactly happened. Throughout this, you are given only one object to defend yourself: a cross. As long as you have faith in the cross, you will continue moving forward towards the hope of a positive conclusion to the story. I’m a sucker for a good scary story, and I was intrigued by the way this one positively portrayed religious devotion. No matter what the protagonist faces, even when he begins to fear that he may not be strong enough to go up against the literal forces of Hell, he holds up his cross for protection. During his journey, however, his cross loses its luster, and the priest’s wavering faith proves to leave the character more vulnerable. It is not until a fellow priest joins him in his battle against the game’s various enemies that his cross regains its brilliance, allowing the two holy men to finally defeat the evil before them. This message about relying on — and trusting — others to get us through difficult journeys struck a chord. I used to tell people that despite the tragedies and trials I faced, I wholly trusted God to see me through the dark. It didn’t ever occur to me that I was lying to myself and others in saying this. I expected God to fix my problems, or at least work in ways that allowed me to continue about my life without having to ask for others’ support. I refused to let myself be cared for, forgetting that God so often works through others to help us.

[theship-thewalrus]

why had it have to be you?

daryl dixon x reader

what if you died instead of Glenn?

word count: 1358 words reading time: about 6 minutes warnings: angst, death, blood, gore, real sad yall

The road was hard against your knees, and the night air licked at your exposed skin. With ripped clothes and what felt like hundreds of eyes on you, you were more exposed than ever before. The throbbing pain from your face was not at the forefront of your mind. Instead, it was on the caravan in front of you. Eyes scan the group gaging their reactions, fear, anxiety, stone-faced. They were mixed. You could only guess the fear that was clear on your own face. Fear of the unknown, of what might happen, of what you feel will happen.

Your eyes lock with Daryl's, the man on his knees beside you. He looked sickly, pale from the blood loss. The gunshot going off was still fresh in your mind. How he folded and his blood splashed on the tree beside him. You were fearful then like you were now. Fearing for his life. But he held strong on like he was now. Stone facing. Not showing his emotions for the betterment of others or to keep face, to keep the people around them thinking he was strong. But even with his best effort, he was weak, hanging on by a mere thread.

The creak of a door brought your attention back to the caravan. A shabby-looking man, dressed in leather pranced out of the caravan. A stupid grin on his face and without a care in the world. Why would he care? He had everything how he wanted it. All lined up in perfect order, just for him. "Pissin' our pants yet?" Even how he spoke held cockiness. Like he was untouchable. His steps were heard throughout the group as no one dared to speak up. Too afraid of the consequences at this time. They were outnumbered, and at the mercy of these people. There was nothing they could do.

"Boy, do I have a feeling we are getting close," His eyes scan the group as he made his way to the end, towards Gabriel. You watched and listen as he spoke to the group, looking everyone in the eyes with little remorse for what he might do. He portrayed your group as the villains in this story. If you had never bothered him, he may have never bothered you. But you all knew it was bullshit. That with enough time he'd come knocking at your door looking for supplies. A payment to not come in a kill what little remained of Alexandria. That in some shape or form this was kindness. Only dealing with a small amount was kindness.

With wide eyes, you watched the barbed wire bat move closer to Rick's face. These words not registering to you, only the stubble threat. If he so please he could hit Rick with the bat. He spoke as he walked, waving the bat around like it was nothing, looking at each person with a sickly smile. How that smile burned into your brain, creeping its way into all the little corners of your mind. It was sinister. It was deranged. It was delusional. He spoke as though this was already decided, that they worked for him, that they would not fight back.

The headlights of the car were blinding, illuminating this death circle. You watched him walk closer to you, his boots crunching on the earth you kneeled on. Looking through the strands of hair you watched him eyeball everyone. Weighing them all up in his mind. He was putting a value on everyone and you only prayed you did not fall short. The question he asked lingered in the air for a moment, Rick was broke down to speak up. They had all gotten too comfortable, too soft and their softness had been exploited. This was your consequence.

"For now, I'm going to beat the holy hell out of one of you," His words stung in your brain. One of your friends, your family was not coming back with you. Was not seeing the sunrise one last time. This would be the last thing they experienced. The fear of waiting. The fear of the unknown. The fear of death. After surviving all you had endured one of you was going to finish your journey here. Not dying at the hands of the dead but instead the living.

His teasing words were met with silence as he went around testing everyone. Wanting a reaction from someone, for someone to slip up. Glenn could not keep still as he threatened Maggie. Lurching forward in her defence even if it cost him his own life. For he loved her. But he was only met with grabbing at him and blows given to him. "Nope, get him back in line." Negan couldn't care less about what happened, he seemed rather annoyed with it all, as though this was a chore. Glenn continued pleading as he was dragged back into line. Though no one seemed to care. Hope was lost. You all held no power. Rules were set after Glenn's outburst. Rules should not be crossed. Rules for this execution you had found yourself in the middle of. And yet, Negan teased, he pushed for a breaking point.

It was all like a game to him, going around pointing the bat, randomly deciding. He found this fun, your lives were nothing to him. You weren't the real threat and yet were treated as such. It sickened you to your core. The whistling. How it curled around your head before bouncing around in your brain. He was so relaxed at the chance of taking a life. You felt fear strike through your body as his bat fell on you for a moment, yet your eyes met his. The bat moved to Daryl next, making you tense. Watching from the corner of your eye. Yet, he moved on again. Dragging on this choice of life or death. It made your stomach turn and your eyes water. It made everything that came before this feel like it was for nothing.

The first smack on the back of Abraham's head was sickening. It rang out, the sound of wood meeting his head. A gasp mixed with a cry ripped from your throat. Yet, Abraham did not fall meaning he had another smack and then another and another. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you could not tear your eyes away. How his blood stained the floor and the bat. How it deepened his red hair. How it ruined his clothes. You wanted to move, to save him, to do something. But you could only weep. Only when his head was a mess on the ground could you look away.

Negan then mocked the death of Abraham. Like it was all a big joke,s something for him to look back on and laugh at. A strangled cry let you as your eyes drifted back to the scene. It was so alarming that you could not look away. That your had to keep glancing at it to wrap your head about that mush and body there was Abraham. Again and again and again Negan beat on the already dead man. There was no respect for the dead. Little care for what he had done. Even then he threw the blood in Rick's face, the blood of his friend, his brother, and his family.

You listen as he mocked Rosita. Claiming this was all a consequence, there was a reason. He wanted her to look at the bloody bat, to see how the blood coated the bat and his flesh still clung to the wire. Daryl's patients wore thin from the constant insults to people he saw as family. Death weighed heavily on his mind. For a moment you look at him and all you can see is a built-up rage, a need to act. With your eyes, you plead him not to act. You could not lose him too. But rage was stronger than love. Daryl jumped up from his place and attacked Negan. Only landing a single punch before being grabbed by his man. Even after he was shot and lost so much blood he had fight in him.

It seemed for a moment the uncaring image of Negan broke as he let out an angry no. Two men pinned Daryl down and you were powerless to do anything, to stop them, to cry out. But as the image slipped it returned, speaking of rule-breaking and the consequences this brings on the group. Daryl's outburst would result in another death. The man with the scarred face, Dwilight, offered to kill him with his own crossbow. Only then did your voice seems to find you, pulling out a weak no. A plead to stop. To show an ounce of mercy to you all. Negan's smile stretched out as he looked at you, eyes connecting with your own as you watched a plan form in his mind. Harshly he had grabbed Daryl's head, pulling it back as he spoke about not killing him. He liked Daryl's fire. But he knew killing someone else he loved would be worse than killing him.

You watched him get closer to you, his boots inching closer to your knees. You were fearful for you knew what was coming next. Daryl's eyes were already on you, you could feel them. Negans words did not register to you, it didn't matter what he said the outcome would be the same. Death. The first strike was sickening, right on the top of your head. You could feel it dent slightly, your bones snapping under the pressure. Blood was pursed from your nose and mouth from the hit. You could hear the cries. Cries that would haunt you for your last few moments. They would circle around in your head like a bad song. Cries ripped through you as he hit you again, pushing your face further into the dirt below. Daryl's cries were loud, you were sure some of your blood had stained his skin. You were so close to them that if he just reached out he could stop this. But he could not find the strength.

Blood bubbled up your throat before passing your lips and dribbling down your chest. Blood surrounded you. The colour red stained you. With what strength you had you leaned up once more. The assault had stopped for a moment. You felt numb but full of pain at the same time. Your face beaten in by the bat, breathing was hard, and strangled breaths were not providing you with enough air. Your brain was dying and there was nothing you could do. Moans of pain left you as you looked around at your family. Wanting them to be the last faces you see before the blows continued. They all held sadness at your state. Tears were in their eyes and streaming down their faces as they looked at you in horror.

Negan's mocking words did not register with you. Not being able to hear anything above your slowly beating heart and your own choked breaths. You're body convulsed with tremors, your body shutting off. Your last words were strange and stretched out, a mangled mess of groans and moans of pain. "Dar-yl... I-I'll... fin-find... yo-you." It was a mess of soft words but ones the man could make out.

The next hit of the bat came from the side, knocking you into the dirt below. Your blood spilled out from your mouth on the dirt. You no longer felt it, the pain, the fear, the despair. Hit. Hit. Hit. Until you were nothing more than mush in the dirt. Your body twitches with the last of your life before falling still. You were nothing but a stain now, a memory to your friends. Your presence would no longer bring light. Your words no longer comforting. You were gone, ripped from them, from Daryl.

His heart was no longer the same after that. You were ripped from him like everything good in life. Taken forcibly before your time. Killed in front of him, because of him. He had killed you. He had done it. He swore to protect you. To look after you. But he couldn't do it. He was too weak. He failed you, the love of his life. And for that he will never forgive himself

[jackietorrance]

Stupid Game!

“Holy shit! What the hell do they want me to do!?"

This was the 17th time you complained about a complicated task in the new action game 'God of War - Ragnarok'.

When Jenna met you, she soon realized her passion for Greek mythology and for the so magnificent god of the Nordic war, on your first date you even mentioned your fanaticism for the franchise. But today was an exaggeration. When the news of the launch came out, you soon bought it in the pre-order, and spent the rest of your time waiting for it. Months and months passed and the moment that you knew that it was released in the PlayStation catalog, you turned on the video game and started your long-awaited journey of accompanying God and his son. The bad thing about this story is that only you knew about your stupid addiction, and why didn't you tell someone about it? You didn't even know, maybe you were afraid of having to abandon your entertainment. Maybe. After all, you don’t know how to deal with it.

But it had already passed dawns, days without sleep, the only time his brain rested being when he fainted from exhaustion. Jenna was really worried about the bag that covered her eyes every time she saw you, but when she confronted you with it, the only thing your girlfriend could receive was a weak smile and the same usual phrase, "I'm fine, when I'm done with the game I swear I'll stay with you the time you want kitty". But this kind smile you had as your brand lasted only for the first 4 times

You understood that you had to maintain a healthy routine for your game in the worst way. Just hurting your family and your girlfriend that you learned to share your time, take care of yourself and think about the feelings of the people you cared about.

“Jenna please listen to me” you approached the door of your shared room leaning your forehead on the cold wood, all your body produced was fear and sadness, you didn't want to have gone that far. Approximately 15 minutes ago Jenna hugged you and asked to you two go to the garden, feel the breeze and the natural aroma of the flowers, something like that. In reality you hadn't paid much attention, after all, you were in the damn game again.

So, you didn't answer, she let you go and repeated the request, you still didn't hear anything at all, and the moment she lost control, you could hear buzzing, enigmatic buzzing that you didn't make a point of deciphering.

But you regretted it the moment you noticed the bang of a knock on the door next to you.

Here you were, begging for your girlfriend's permission so you could try to do something. However, there was nothing you could do, you were wrong in every way. It was you who ignored it when she called her to watch her favorite terror. It was you who was not your award for best actress, when she called you to this special occasion and you neglected what she did for you. Acting like it's nothing

Your option was to compensate Jenna. You had to conquer it again, as in the old days, without any addiction involved.

Your plan started with you asking for a leave of your work, wanting to spend time with Jenna even if she wasn't at home you would be there waiting. Even if she refused to talk to you, you were there for her, regardless of whether she wanted to refuse you, from this day on you would be open to her. You bought flowers and left them at Jenna's bedroom door. You started sleeping on a mattress, without wanting to bother Jenna with your unfortunate presence. Your video game.. it was sent to your little brother Dexter, you knew he had more self-control than you.

After a few days doing the same procedure, she finally sat with you at the table, without any words exchanged, you left Jenna at ease, without wanting to press her to listen to your apologies, you allowed yourself to wait for a sign to start, "Uh, are you okay?" Jenna said breaking the silence, but continuing to look at the food on her plate.

“In fact, I really need to talk to you," you said and raised your face to look at Jenna, straight eyebrows, slightly closed eyes and a certain hesitation on them.

“I don't know if-“ at that moment you couldn't wait any longer, you didn't want to keep looking like a stranger to Jenna. "I really need you, I need to make up for you somehow, I know I shouldn't have stayed that long in that shit. You deserve everything, everything I can offer and everything I can't offer, you deserve someone who gives all this and more, your love, your smile, you are something rare, someone that should be taken care of better than I took care of" you held Jenna's hand, that touch you so much wanted to try again. But you didn't want to make Jenna feel uncomfortable, so you disconnected your fingers quickly, still leaving them on the table.

“I'm really sorry, Jenna, I understand if you want to distance yourself from me, I just need a signal, any sign, if you want, I'll leave, if make you better, I'll leave-“ you started talking faster, nervousness running through every inch of your body. All this eroded your mind.

“It would be a lie if I said you didn't hurt me, the first time you got bitter, I still didn't care, I thought you were just grumpy and I let you have your time. Then I began to feel more harshness in his words, but coldness. And that upset me. Very. You miss the only nights we had together because of this stupid game, not something very cool. But it would be another lie if I said no that I expected you to be better the next day, with the silly smile I fell in love with, I want the girl I love back." Jenna kept looking down, letting tears run down her face, falling down her lap, all she said was an almost inaudible tone, almost. You were standing next to Jenna, the chair facing you. In an impulse of courage, adrenaline running through your blood flow, you extended your two hands around Jenna's cheeks, running from her ears to her jaw, "I love you y/n, I can't live in peace with you ignoring me, I don't want you to hate me." It seemed like she hadn't understood your statement, despite that you didn't mind repeating as many times as necessary, or even saying anything, you weren't that good at words, "the only thing I hate is that I can't make you happy enough, but I don't care about trying, even if it's useless. I love you so much Jen" Jenna closed the space between you, attracting herself to her body as if he were a magnet and she were the rusty metal that still had her attraction.

This kiss was needed from both parts, something that they had not experienced for a long time and that they had longed for, unfortunately one of the bodies had its brain glazed in one thing, and its heart... concentrated on another thing much better.

Maybe people think it's crazy, but we know it's true love. Only I know how much you do me good and how much I want to live the rest of my life by your side.

[brook-e-lynns]

KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER |JOEL MILLER| SERIES

SERIES MASTERLIST // NEXT PART

Part one.

Summary : Joel and Ellie have been on the run for a while but things change when they find a woman who has been locked in a basement for too long.

SPOILERS FOR BOTH GAMES AND THE SHOW!

Warnings: Angst, abuse, kidnapping, blood and violence, hurt/comfort.

Note: I’m really just gonna jump right into this and it’s gonna be a crazy start.

Not edited or beta’d

Any type of feedback is greatly appreciated

Enjoy!

——————————————————————————

"Can you keep up, we gotta get there before it gets dark or else we're stuck in the open" joel urges his fingers looped around the right strap of his backpack. "wait wait wait listen to this one" Ellie runs in front of Joel walking backwards to look at him.

"what did the blanket say when it fell off the bed" a long pause of Joel ignoring Ellie. Her smile growing

"oh sheet" she giggles slapping his arm with her book he releases a deep sigh sick of Ellie's stupid dad jokes.

The journey continued, until they found an old store trailing away from the old dirt road into the long overgrown grass to the building. Joel motions for Ellie to get low to a kneel Holding his gun in front of him. Joel does his check making sure they can enter.

"Look for supplies" he motions for her to go in " but keep quiet"

Ellie digs through the broken shelves pulling old wrappers from the floor the dirt and debris covering what's left of the tiles. Ellie's head whips towards the staircase door with the sound of banging. " Joel" she calls in a hushed harsh voice trying to get his attention. "Joel did you hear that" Joel's brows pinch together once he finally hears whatever the hell she was talking about. "Stay behind me and get your knife out" Ellie quickly pulls her backpack in front of her, whipping her knife out of the front pocket, zipping it back up, swinging it back over her shoulder.

A loud shriek comes from the staircase "do you think was a-" she was cut off by a gunshot

Silence.

Ellie's eyes widened knowing that if it was, it's dead now. " Are we gonna go down?" She asks her knuckles turning white from the amount of pressure she is applying to the hilt of her knife.

" Keep your distance, is that clear?!" his eyes narrow at her making sure she understands "crystal"

Joel's hands tighten around his gun ready for whatever is down those stairs, all he knew was something was still alive down there or infected.

Taking each step with caution. Looking around his surroundings smeared blood that was definitely fresh from someone or something and the bloody footprints. "Joel" she sheethes quietly. He ignores her taking another step " asshole" she mumbles under her breath.

"Ellie give me your flashlight!" Of course he has his own but Ellie's was easier to access in the time that they had. Ellie stares at him with a dumb founded look before taking a step back up towards the top of the stairs flipping a light switch, the hallway illuminating.

"Well mr grumpy pants, I checked my surroundings, unlike someone" she says back in her regular sarcastic tone.

A quick shuffle comes from the room at the bottom of the stairs. Joel takes the last few steps down. His eyes search the room for the source of the sound.

Staring at the bodies on the ground before they land on you.

Your hands shaking as you point the gun straight at him, your knees are tucked into your chest not wanting to leave your corner, there's blood splattered across your face and chest mixing with tears as they stream down your cheeks. your body heaving in deep breaths. "holy shit" Ellie mumbles , staring at the damage that you had caused to the men on the ground. "Ellie, grab the kit from my bag"

Joel sticks his hand out his palm facing you slowly inching his way towards you. "I'm gonna help you alright?" He slowly lowers himself to the ground. He flattens his palm reaching for your gun, Your body tenses pushing every part of your body as far into the corner as you could, his hand taking grasp of your gun before setting it on the ground. He reaches behind him Ellie handing him his small white box pulling out gauze and his water from the side pocket of his backpack. Placing the gauze onto the rim of his bottle before flipping it over wetting the gauze.

He inches closer" I'm not gonna hurt you I promise, but l'm gonna help you get cleaned up alright" his voice was soft and was a kind a voice that Ellie had never heard him use and he was gentle rather then his normal grumpy state.

Your body shakes the closer he gets to his hand holding the gauze coming closer to your cheeks. you suck in a startled breath,your hand quickly grabbing his wrist. Your eyes gave him the look of fear which he knew too well. " I'll be gentle," he nods. Your grip loosens. "Got a name?" He asks wiping off the blood from your face. What was the worst that could happen by trusting him, he's already treating you better then you've been treated in years.

"Stas" you whisper under your breath " is that short for anything?" He asks, you stare at him for a second before answering. "Anastasia" his fingers rub against your split lip with the damp gauze.

Ellies takes her time exploring the room staring at all the little things that could give them any hint of who you actually are and why you were here.

The singular blanket and wadded up jacket hinted that you were most likely alone and the marks on the wall that look like you've been counting.

How long have you been here, why were you here?

Ellie moves to awkwardly stand behind Joel, she has the look of curiosity plaster on her face.

She's never seen Joel so caring, not even with Tess he's gentle, and he's definitely masking his grumpiness with whatever the hell he's doing.

You let out a deep shaking breath once Joel finishes his job cleaning the blood off your face. Your jaw clenched not sure what to do now, all of you sitting in silence for a few beats before Ellie's mind had to have the answers her questions, "so" she drags on

" How long have you been down here?" You look up at the young girl wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. " a while" you say under your breath. You had known exactly how long you have been down here because everyday was torture.

The QZ definitely were not the good guys, you were found just outside of one of their zones but of course they didn't want you there, you were an outsider.

Kathleen of course was hesitant to let you in but she did. She could get whatever she wanted out of you.

You wouldn't budge so she took more drastic measures. Which is why you're in a basement in the middle of nowhere.

So to say you have trust issues would be an understatement but his hands were gentle and he was kind which is what you needed right now.

" I'm Joel, this is Ellie" he said gesturing to her, Ellie gave a small wave. " are you trying to get somewhere" you shake your head " have anywhere to go" another shake of your head.

Joel drops his head in defeat, he couldn't leave you behind after hearing how long you've been here he didn't want to risk them coming back for you.

"Damn it" he grunts" okay, you've got two options, you can stay here and figure something out or you can come with us to Wyoming and we can get you settled somewhere" he offers you to sit in silence taking in everything he had just said. If you stay here they will find you sooner or later and they won't show any mercy, but if you go with them, you won't be alone.

"Which one is safer?" You ask , your voice is still quiet.

"Neither" he admits, he sticks his hand back at you, his palm sticking up and you place your shaking hand on top of his. His soft brown eyes give you a sympathetic look. He helps you stand though you're scared your body will give out as soon as you stand.

Joel supports your body until you're completely standing up. "We've got to get moving if we want to get to bill n° franks before it gets dark '' Joel towers over you his tan jacket straining over his biceps his knuckles are bruised and red. He gives you an awkward nod motioning for you and Ellie to move up the stairs to the outside world that you weren't sure you knew what it looked like anymore, it felt strange being with people that were gentle rather than lashing and brutal.

You can't remember the last time you walked for so long. Your legs are throbbing ,the arches of your feet ache and your back is sore. "Joel are we almost there, my feet hurt and I think l'm gonna be paralyzed after this" Ellie whines, it was about the third time this trip Ellie has asked the same question.

Joel would either ignore her or he'd give her a blank answer" 'about half an hour, Ellie just hang on".

It was starting to get dark, the sky changing from its bright blue to a hues of purple and pink as the sun set " you think there's anything out here" she continued to ask questions to keep her distracted from the pain in her body. Joel didn't answer her because he didn't have an answer and he didn't want to give Ellie any false hope.

" So Stas, where are you from?" she loops her fingers around her backpack straps. "Georgia" you give a short answer. " Were you born before or after the outbreak?" She pries " before, I was seventeen" "Do you remember what it was like?" Ellie was definitely a curious kid and a hell of a talker. " | remember a lot of things" you answer.

There's a chain link fence now in view " Jesus, finally!" Ellie cries out running to the fence " I think my legs are gonna fall off"

It looks normal beyond the fence like the outbreak never happened. The houses looked like there were still people living in them, the roads were clean and the grass was green. Like a bomb was set off outside of the fence leaving the inside untouched.

Joel makes it to the fence gate punching in a code and with a loud buzz the gate opens, Ellie runs to the house with bright white walls. " Ellie slow down," Joel calls out to her. leaving you and Joel behind. "She talks a lot" he mentions causing you to let out a little laugh "I noticed, but she's a kid so I get it" he nods letting you walk through the gate first and locking it behind him.

"we'll leave in the mornin', and there's plenty of things here that you can use as you wish, and they have hot water so your free to knock yourself out'' he gives you a soft smile before he continues into the house you follow suit the house was clean and felt like a home if the outside hadn't made you feel normal then the inside did, it was actually functioning. No boarded up windows or broken glass, it was a home that someone lived and loved in.

You always had the dream when you were younger to have the picture perfect life, a husband, kids, the house with the white picket fence but since the outbreak that seem like it's so far away but now you've lived with the fact that there won't be a husband, no picture perfect life and definitely no white picket fence. But you had the kids at one point but as we all know, the QZ are monsters.

Ellie walked upstairs with you upstairs. Pointing you towards where you'd sleep for the night and the bathroom.

" oh and there's hot water so take as long

as you need because it's heaven" she jokes " so i've been told"

That was exactly what you did, took a long hot shower washing all the dirt ,grime and blood from your body letting it fall to the tub and run down the drain, your hands run over your head, the first Time in forever that you've been able to actually run your fingers through the strands of your hair. Your eyes fell shut, the feeling of the water running down your body, you felt like you were living again. There's strawberry shampoo and a matching conditioner running it through your hair with the tips of your fingers. You felt human again, and that was Something you hadn't been treated like for months.

A sigh of relief escapes from your body reaching for the handle to turn the water off.

There's neatly folded white towels on the bathroom counter pulling it to wrap around yourself covering your body. You wipe your hand across the mirror clearing a section to be able to see yourself, you looked normal like the world didn't completely crumble. Is this what your life would be like if the outbreak hadn't happened, a nice home. But your brought back to reality when you look at the scars and marks across your body some lighter then others but they were still there

You moved from the bathroom to the bedroom, the bed took up a lot of space there's two stacks of clothes, you pulled on a shirt over your chest, it sat bigger on you causing it to slip off your shoulder exposing your bra strap and collar bone. They had set out two kinds of pants, one red pajama bottoms and the other are black mens jeans, pulling the pjs over the curve of your ass till they sat on your hips.

You use your towel to squeeze out as much water as you could tucking it behind your ear, you stay in the room for a few more minutes before you brave them down stairs.

Wrapping your arms around your torso, hugging yourself, taking slow steps down the stairs following the sounds of chatter towards the right of the house.

Finding both Joel and Ellie sitting at the dining room table. Their heads turn towards you when you make your appearance in the doorway. "Well look at you, a whole new person" she smiles, you can feel Joel's gaze on you, his eyes soft and concerned.

Silence filled the room before Ellie spoke again. " We saved you some fruit, some of them are bad" she adds, patting the seat next to her and across from Joel. She hands you a small container of different fruits, some apple slices and strawberries.

You take a seat crossing your leg under yourself, staring at the large map laid out on the table, pen markings everywhere some places scribbled out and some that have labels made by them showing all of the different zones, QZ, FEDRA, safe zones and places that you don't want to go mainly due to a high population of infected.

You dissociate from their conversation completely in your own head, these two are obviously not related especially by the way they treat each other which is a little bit harsh if they were family, Joel has also referred to her as cargo multiple times, maybe it’s a nickname but that would be weird. Your mind continues to wonder running through multiple things ranging from what life would be like if the outbreak didn’t happen, to when you are infected does just take control over your body but you're still there or are you just gone.

Evicted from your own body.

“I’m calling it, if I stay up any long I think my eyes will fall out” Ellie dramatically says before getting up from her chair. And running up the stairs her boot caught the edge causing her to trip up them. “ oh shit” she says, moving faster up the stairs. “you alright kiddo?”

“I’m alive!” You let out a small laugh before her door shuts.

“ I should probably tap out to” you say, earning a nod from Joel. “ Let me know if you need anything” he adds before you give him a nod standing up from the chair, Joel gives you a soft smile which you return.

You trek your way up the stairs back to the room you were given. Tucking your knees into your chest, every emotion getting harder to keep at bay the longer you sit in the dark there’s only a little bit of light coming from the window. But you were still scared, you were alone all over again.

You sat in bed, scared to fall asleep. Hours pass before you brave to leave the room making your way downstairs and to the front door trying to quietly open it Closing it behind you and sitting on the steps of the porch.

Listening to the sounds of nature and how quiet it was there’s slight wind going through the trees causing the leaves to rustle there’s sounds of crickets and just the world live. You zone out a few times before the door opens behind you causing you to snap out of it and turn to see who it was.

Joel stands behind you before sitting next to you with a quiet groan. Giving him a glance before focusing back to beyond the gates.

“ couldn’t sleep?” He asks, his eyes are glued to you.

“ I’m scared that if I fall asleep that I’ll just end up back there, in pain. I was down there for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever mentally realize that I’m not in that shit hole” you respond, your voice sounding choked up, trying to keep the floods at bay.

“ Well you're not, and I don't know why you were down there but clearly they had a reason, and you don't have to tell me right now but I do want you to tell me at some point before we get to Jackson” he urges.

Of course you knew that at some point you would have to tell them whether you wanted to or not but for now you’ll just sit in silence until the right time. Though it would never be the right time because you wish the ground would just swallow you whole so you never have to say a word about it again.

But you know that’s not going to happen and the truth would come out one day or another.

——————————————————————————

ANNOUNCEMENT- I’ve hit 400 followers and I know that doesn’t sound like much but it’s so crazy to me that people actually like to read what I have and support me with everything so THANK YOU SO MUCH AND LOVE YOU✨🤍🎉

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[dearabby1990]

Chapter 26: I’d do anything for you

This has without a doubt been the best night over your life Eddie bribed the dj for the night to play what he knows is your song Journey “foolish heart” starts to play he takes your hand & you both give each other a knowingly look “thank you Eds for.. for everything for being you for having me & for tonight I’ll never forget it that’s for sure” he smiles kissing you as you both sway to the beat of the song. The night is getting closer to the end & you all even had a large group dance you Eddie & all the boys. Heading back to the table for the night laughing and talking you all get some punch & sit to shoot the shit when you hear a voice from behind you “Well… well well what do we have here Hawkins own freak table gee I didn’t even think you guys would have the balls to even show your face here you do know nobody wants you here right” your face is on fire & your brain is going a mile a minute flashbacks of that horrible night you wouldn’t dare let Eddie experience that not if you can help it. You see Eddie jaw clenched at this boys words before Gareth speaks “Jason why don’t you just leave us the hell alone & quit being a dick all the fucking time!” Jason looks amused & a laugh rumbles from deep in his chest “ohh & what do we have here be careful gorgeous he they worship the devil & probably want to use you for a human sacrifice” you can’t take another word from this kid & you won’t dare let him ruin Eddie’s prom you jump up from your seat “Listen pencil dick I don’t know what your major malfunction is but if you don’t get the fuck away from us & this table i swear you’ll be sorry!!” Eddie is standing up to keep you from lunging at Jason has he looks at you eyes wide face beet red “You…! You fucking bitch!” Before you knew it your instincts took over your heel landing right between Jason’s legs kicking him in the groin & picking up the server tray from your tables food & smacking it over his head as hard as you could. “Eat shit asshole!!” The boys all stare in bewilderment gareth yells “holy shit!! I think we should get out of here GO GO GO GO!!!” Eddie snatched up your hand making a beeline for the door Steve & robin aren’t far behind all running like bats out of hell while Jason lays on the floor cupping himself in pain and Andy screaming “you fucking freaks!” You whip your head around just before reaching the door “kiss my ass trust fund baby!!” Jeff cackles as you all head to your vehicles robin seems very proud “That was so awesome he so deserved that!” Gareth agrees “It was a long time coming you fucking rule Watts!!” Eddie pulling you into a hug “you’re absolutely insane nobody’s ever done that for any of us before I think I’m fully head over heels in love with this girl!” He points at you Steve shakes his head amused “we better get the hell out of here before they all come barreling out here for payback” you all hop in your ride for the night while the hellfire boys pile into Jeff’s dads van they pull up to your ride honking with all the windows down gareth hanging out the window “HEY JAMIE!!! WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!!” You beam with pride now knowing family isn’t always blood but the people who are in your life right now you want in your life forever. Eddie’s words earlier replaying in your head until you’re snapped out of your thoughts “hey princess I’m gonna drop these two off first do you want me to take you to yours or..?” You know for sure what you want out of all this but not sure how or when to go about what you’re thinking & feeling so for the second you’re just living in the moment “uhhh.. well it’s a weekend so you don’t have anything to do tomorrow right or are you busy if you are it’s totally fine” as you play with your bracelet not making any eye contact. “I’m not busy at all tomorrow… hey.. hey look at me” you slowly lift your head “whatever you wanna do I’m okay with” he holds your hand the remainder of the ride dropping off Steve & robin & heading to your place. Pulling into the driveway your trying to build up the courage “So.. I-I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay tonight… with me??..”

[bigmouthlass]

Title:  We're Counting On You, Lord

Series: Supernatural B-Sides

Author:  BJ

Fandom:  Supernatural

Rating:  Teen

Synopsis: In my headcanon Baby's a bit more tempermental than she is on-camera, and breakdowns happen often enough Sam has a routine down when it comes to busting Dean's balls over it.

Tags:  Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Baby the Impala, Baby is a brat, Sam is a brat, Dean is a brat, songfic

AN:  Song is "Mercedes Benz," written by Janis Joplin, Michael McClure, and Bob Neuworth, performed by Joplin on the album 'Pearl.' All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

If asked, Dean Winchester will call his car the perfect hunter's car.  Sure she drinks gas like water and doesn't do off-road, like, at all, and don't even ask about parking.  But the pros -- bench seats for emergency sleeping, trunk big enough for a small apartment's worth of gear, all sorts of nooks and crannies for hiding spare cash and ammo, surprisingly inconspicuous for her size and age, able to cruise at 70 for days -- far outweigh the cons as far as he's concerned.  Power, beauty, and able to bounce back from everything the job can possibly throw at them.  They're a matched set, Dean will tell you.

If asked, Sam Winchester will point out that the car sticks out like a bobcat at a dog show, the air conditioning barely works no matter how much Dean screws around with it, its zero-to-sixty can be measured in days, it eats brake pads like they're potato chips, and why in the hell hasn't Dean upgraded the suspension because he swears he can feel the car crying whenever it hits a pothole.  And with the amount of time they spend taking secondary highways, that's a lot of crying.

Most of his gripes get shot down with an annoyed glower and, "One word-- legroom."  And Sam will admit, Dean's got him there.  Getting stuck in Brady's Alfa Romeo Spyder had not exactly been the high point of his freshman year.

Questions about reliability will produce similarly opposed responses.  Dean will swear on any holy book you hand to him that Baby's a perfect lady, never breaks down, never strands him in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.  Sam will make sure he's safely out of earshot and swear the damn thing's never completed a journey without going bang, ever, not once in the thirty-odd years he's been riding in it.

The truth of course is somewhere in the middle.  Dean's been working on Baby since he was old enough to hold a flashlight steady and he's brought her back from scrap and spare parts more than once.  But the flat fact of the matter is, the car's a blue-collar broad of a certain age who's lived hard.  She has . . . quirks.

---

bang!

"What--"

cough

"Aw shit--"

"Mmm?"

"Don't-- c'mon Baby, just for me, be sweet to me--"

sick revving noises

"God dammit."

"I think the car just gave you the finger."

"Don't listen to him sweetheart, he's just being a bitch as usual."

bang! car lurches hard enough to throw driver and passanger out of their seats

"Definitely telling you to go fuck yourself."

"Shut up."

crunch of shoulder gravel, engine stops

"Well . . . at least it's not dark this time.  Or raining.  Or sleeting, Or--"

creak of door hinges, pop of hood latch

"Sam, shut up."

"No, you know what?  You're right.  I will shut up."

pop of trunk lock, clink of tools

"Because--"

dramatic clearing of throat

"Oh no you fucking don't."

humming for a note

"Start that shit and--"

voice rises in pitch

"'Like to do a song--'"

"Shave your head in your sleep--"

"'--of great social--'"

"Break every bone in your body--"

"'--and political import.'"

"Tie you to a bed naked and call that Becky chick--"

"'Goes like this.'"

thunking of a hand on a car's side panel

"Oh Lord! won't'cha buy me, a Mercedes-Benz?  Mah friends all drive Porsches, I must make a-mends."

"I will fucking end you Sammy, I swear to God."

"Don't call me that-- I work haaaard all my life time, no help from my friends."

"Sammy-Sammy-Sammykins--"

"So Lord! won't'cha buy me a Mercedes-Benz?  Oh Lord! won't'cha buy me, a color TV?"

"Sammycutiewootiepieface--"

"Dialin' for Dollars is tryin' to find meeee.  I wait for dee-livery, each day until three."

dark muttering about home perms and dye it all bright fucking pink I swear to God

"So Lord! won't'cha buy me a color TV?  Oh Lord! won't'cha buy me, a night on the town?"

soft whine of ultimate suffering

"I'm countin' on you Lord, please don't let me down.  Prooooove that'cha love me, and buy the next round."

"Make mine a double."

"So Lord! won't'cha buy me a night on the town?  Everybody! oh Lord! won't'cha buy me a Mercedes-Benz?  Mah friend all drive Porsches, I must make a-mends.  I worked haaaard all my life time, no help from my friends.  So Lord! won't'cha buy me, a Mer-Cey-Deez-Benz?"

silence

"Are you finished?"

a decidedly fiendish chuckle

"Just getting warmed up.  My car is a . . . "

sounds of two grown men trying to seriously throttle each other by the side of the road

---

"So, you boys wanna run that by me again?"

Sam and Dean glared while the Sheriff of Minnehaha County tried not to laugh.  She made a mental note to show Donna the video later.  The best part had to be the both of them looking up guiltily as Jody barked, "GENTLEMEN," Sam in a headlock and Dean with a bloody nose.

They pointed at each other, "He started it."

---

AN2: Oh, the song Sam started at the end is Psychostick's, "Two Ton Paperweight."

[acourtofthought]

Anti's are trying to turn Gwyn into an evil lightsinger because of ships instead of realizing that she could end up having a pretty amazing journey being a Siren of the Sea.

“Rumor claimed she dumped one into the sea. It would not come to Amarantha’s hand, nor the hands of any of her commanders, and rather than let the King of Hybern attain it, she disposed of it.”

I only heard from a fleeing water-nymph that it had been done.” “Narben was even older than Gwydion,” Rhys said. “Where the hell was it?” “I don’t know, but she found it, and when it would not bend to her, she destroyed it. As she did all good things.” / "It was perhaps in our favor. Had the King of Hybern possessed Narben, I fear we would have lost the war.”

Narben’s powers had not been the holy, savior’s light of Gwydion, but ones far darker. “I can’t believe that witch threw it into the sea,” Cassian said.

Who knows if she actually found Narben? Even if it would not obey her, she’d have been a fool to throw it away.”

There are no magic weapons left. None. They were either lost or destroyed or dumped in the sea

GWYNETH BERDERA

It fluttered with light, like the sun on a shallow sea.

Gwyn gestured to her large eyes—blue so clear it could have been the shallow sea—

Gwyn whispered, “I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons

Gwyn’s eyes shone, like the sunlight on a warm sea.

And when Gwyn reached the finish line, bloody and panting and grinning so wildly her teal eyes glowed like a sunlit sea

Gwyn’s hair seemed to glow brighter with her song, skin radiating a beckoning light. Drawing any listener in.

Something beckoned in Gwyn’s song, in a way the others’ hadn’t. Like Gwyn was calling only to her.

Gwyn’s voice rose again, holding such a high note it was like a ray of pure light, piercing and summoning.

Also 🤯

What if Cassian's first Solstice gift to Nesta is going to make a reappearance, pulled from the sea by Gwyn, and will contain important information regarding their history?!

He’d kept her present in his pocket, saving it to give to her in private later. He’d done the same last year, and the damn thing had ended up at the bottom of the Sidra. Probably swept out to sea. He’d spent months tracking down the book, so tiny it would fit in a doll’s hands, but so precious it had cost him an indecent amount of money. A miniature illuminated manuscript, crafted by the skilled hands of the smallest of the lesser Fae—one of the first printed books in existence. It hadn’t been meant for reading—but he’d figured that someone who adored books as much as Nesta would savor this piece of history.