#i’ve been mulling on this for a few months and there are times where i think i prefer proto-Fudd to the real thing despite being such a

[ducktracy]

I'm sorry but can you direct me to the little red riding hood where the wolf is in a roadster and he's trying to pick her up? It's in black and white I think and I'm sure I saw you share it on here

sorry this is so late!! that would be Tex Avery’s Little Red Walking Hood, which is a great cartoon! it’s on HBO Max if you have it, but you can also check it out here. i hope you enjoy!

[jamminvroomvroom]

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

-

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

-

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

-

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

-

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

-

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

-

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

-

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

-

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

-

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[gay-dorito-dust]

could you do a lil drabble for each of the batboys with a ghost!reader who haunts the mansion? like the ghost is super nice and chill, and they help out in minor ways (help finding small items, cleaning up places, fixing someone’s clothes).

All the boys at some point knew the mansion was haunted, but not by the ghosts of Thomas and Martha Wayne, no but instead of a different person entirely who had no ties what so ever to the manner but thankfully you’re rather helpful and chill in comparison to how movies tends to stereotype ghosts as…something you take full offence to…

Jason

Ironically he reacted the least to you when you showed up in front of him one day, his red helmet in hand.

‘You’ve got to stop dropping this dude, it can only take a couple more drops before you break the fucking thing completely.’ You tell him as you set the helmet aside on his bedside desk.

Jason only looks at you with intrigue. ‘How did you get in the manor?’ He asks. You crossed your arms over your chest. ‘I’m a ghost, there is no getting in when I’ve been here for a little over a couple months.’ You replied

‘How?’ He asks.

You shrugged. ‘Dunno, I died a few feet from this manor and yet I got stuck here regardless, it sounds like the start of a shitty horror movie.’ Jason chuckled as he sits back on his bed. ‘Yeah it really does but aren’t you ghosts meant to be, you know…vengeful towards the living?’ He teases and you shot him a look.

‘First of all those ghosts are old cunts who are have a thing for killing young people and kids for the sake of enforcing their hatred towards the newer generation. I on the other hand don’t fucking care because what purpose does it serve me to frighten people into paranoia? None and besides you lot are a messy bunch that don’t know the first thing of keeping your stuff in your own rooms, you and dick are the worst for that.’

Jason raised his hands in defence. ‘Guilty as charged but they always seem to come back to our rooms regardless, so I’m assuming that’s you?’

You hummed.

‘Why?’

You shrugged again. ‘I’m bored and got too much time stuck here doing fuck all. So now I clean up after you lot to pass the infinite time I’m now cursed with.’

‘Must suck.’ Jason said as he looked at you. ‘Being dead and I should know but unlike you I was brought back against my will.’ You waved a hand at him as you sat next to him. ‘It’s not all bad being dead but I think coming back to live is an even worse fate to have.’ You then look at him with concern for his wellbeing. ‘How do you do it?’

Jason stayed silent as his steely gaze locked onto the wall in front of him. ‘I’m still trying.’ Was all he said and you decided they your time here was over as you walked over to his doorway but looked back at Jason before leaving. ‘Talk to your brothers, before you regret not doing so later…I know I regret not saying anything to my family before…you know.’ You tell him with a weak smile.

Jason was left mulling over your words that night.

Dick

He fainted the moment you handed him his weapons to him. This wasn’t the first time he did it either.

You weren’t amused as you sighed. ‘Okay big guy, let’s get you back to bed.’ You settled aside his weapons on the kitchen counter where you found him, before focusing all your effort and energy into lifting him up and carrying him back to bed, tucked in tight like a baby that he was when it came to horror movies.

You often left dick’s stuff in places he frequently visited or in his room rather then stay long for him to see you, all in the hope of not having to hear him scream and potentially faint on the spot, for in all honestly after the first few times it was beyond ridiculous, and you couldn’t be bothered to make an attempt to ease his anxiety about you if he wasn’t even conscious for you to do so.

He was the one you interacted the least but would keep an eye on from afar like you did with the rest of the boys.

So when he finds himself in his bed, he’s confused, he thought he was in the training room before but then he remembered that his encounter with you sent him into unconsciousness. He wasn’t the biggest fan of horror movies and ever since his first one, his fears and worries towards ghosts has grown since his siblings love horror movie nights, much to his dismay.

There was a ghost in the manor…but you didn’t seem hostile or as angry and violent as the ones he saw in movies, if anything you were the exact opposite but still his worries that this was all just a ruse was enough to have him on edge whenever he heard a creak in the floorboards or shutting of a random door.

‘Christ you’re hopeless boy wonder.’ You say out of instinct and dick, who had gotten out of bed at this point and wandered down the hallway, straightened up and looked over at you with wide eyes.

‘You!’

‘Me!’ You replied sarcastically. ‘Now before you faint on me, your weapons are in the training area where you fainted before I had to drag your ass back to bed, if not ask Tim as I left him the responsibility to tell you where they are.’ You add and within a matter of minutes, dick fainted and you sighed once more as you were forced to carry the man back to bed, more then ready to do this all over again should he cross your path once more.

Tim

Didn’t fully encounter you until he was on a hunt to find his missing computer charger, growing ever more annoyed when he couldn’t find it, only to hear someone from his doorway say;

‘Looking for this?’

Tim looks up to find your translucent hand hold out his charger, it almost looked as though it was floating in midair in front of him as though it was the carrot on the stick and he was the donkey, destined to be lured by the illusion of one day eating the carrot only to always be mere inches away from that reality but never getting any closer then those mere inches.

‘What the-‘ he begins but you raised your other hand.

‘Don’t freak out dude, I’m just a ghost who’s trying to help you find a charger, no need to reach for the phone and get a fake medium, nor call that John Constantine dude Christ.’ You said as you threw his computer charger onto his bed. Tim was still very much in a state of surprise at how you could intersect with objects, for as he was aware ghosts had to be able to muster the anger to do so, but here you were doing what other ghosts couldn’t so effortlessly and easily as breathing.

‘Thanks?’ He then says and you shrugged your shoulders.

‘No problem, also when dick comes and ask you where his combat sticks are, they’re in the kitchen…where he left them the night before, I would do it but I’m pretty sure he fainted when I held them t to him.’ You told Tim but before he could say anything else, you disappeared through the wall across his room and it left him with a cold sensation travelling through his body upon witnessing it.

He’s now going to sleep with one eye open in the instance you came back to watch over him like a sleep paralysis demon. That and he found out your death with a quick search.

Damian

Didn’t believe in ghosts until he caught you sorting out his art supplies in a neat and orderly manner.

‘Hey!’ He’d bark.

‘At least arrange your paint brushes from thickest to thinnest,’ you groaned, ignoring his bark, ‘it’s a pain in the ass to keep cleaning after you and keep the art desk clean also.’

Damian faltered and his anger subsided to confusion. ‘You’re the one who’s been doing that?’ He asks. You looked at his as though he grew another head. ‘Duh, of course I do. Also don’t wear anything that can get into acrylic paint, it doesn’t come out, like at all that shit ruins any good shirt you have forever see!’ You then showed him your paint covered sleeves with a smile.

‘How did you get in here without setting off the alarms?’ Damian questioned and you then sighed as you balled up a fist and threw a punch that went straight through the set desk, you leave it there for Damian to realise what your situation was before pulling it out. ‘You’re a ghost.’

‘In the flesh! Well flesh for you not me as I’m dead and all-‘

‘Yes I get that but-‘

‘Damian.’ Dick’s voice could heard through the door as the pair of you froze. ‘Who are you talking to?’ Damian was about to answer but when he looked over at where you stood, you were gone as though you had never existed and slowly Damian closed his mouth. ‘No one.’ He replied as he looked over at his art desk to see that you had cleaned his paintbrushes, organised them from height order and even brought a fresh canvas out for him too.

Something told him that this won’t be the last time that he saw you.

Congratulations you’ve gained his interest.

[takusan-no-ai]

Let’s take a break

PAIRING: Lycaon x Female Reader (Romantic) (Angst)

SUMMARY: (Y/N) is a workaholic; and while Lycaon can relate to always having work to do, he also understands the importance of rest.

Lycaon loves his job dearly, always going above and beyond to achieve the best. And just as much as he loves his job, he loves his girlfriend. (Y/N), she’s a proxy of few words; not out of shyness, but simply a lack of time to speak. She works so much her inter-knot level maxed out in a month.

It was on one such days that Lycaon was lucky enough to have the day off. While the couple often worked together, actually spending quality time wasn’t as often as Lycaon would like. So anytime he could, he made it a goal to perfect every opportunity.

“Clean environment? Check. Flowers? Check. Favorite snacks? Check.” He mulled over every last detail. “She should be here soon,” he said while fixing his tie and brushing his fur. He sat on the couch, looking at the clock as time ticked by.

An hour late. Lycaon had already discussed with (Y/N) the meetup time. “She’s always been hard working, but it seems that has long gone past a healthy amount.” With his mind set in stone, Lycaon made his way to (Y/N)’s home.

“The number you are trying to reach is either turned off or in a hollow.” Lycaon tried to call (Y/N) for the fifth time; at first he thought she might’ve been away from her phone, but now his worry was growing stronger. He finally made it to her door and knocked multiple times, only to get no reply.

Lycaon leaned on the door and listened for anything. A sudden thud rung in his ears as he kicked in the door. “(Y/N)!” He screamed out.

The room was dark, windows covered with no light seeping through. Electronic equipment, takeout, and paperwork dirtied the living space. Lycaon sighed deeply, understanding the situation. He looked around until he found (Y/N), on the floor, having passed out and falling off her chair.

He moved her to the bed so she could sleep and proceeded to clean the entire house. Everything was spotless by the time he was done, and it was at that point he heard the floorboards creaking from the bedroom.

(Y/N) opened her door, having just woken up. There was a small bruise on her forehead from the bang, but it wasn’t anything permanent. She looked around aimlessly, noticing the clean interior (and probably exterior) of her home. She immediately knew what had happened. Her head hung low as she walked towards her couch and sat down.

Lycaon placed a platter of sliced fruits, veggies, and whole grains on the table. “They help relieve stress,” he said. (Y/N) covered her face.

“I’m so sorry–”

“It’s okay.”

“If I had finished the work faster–”

“That wouldn’t have fixed anything.” He quickly shuts her down. (Y/N) grabbed an apple slice and ate it. Lycaon sat next to her, placing his tail in her lap. “You can pet it if you wish.”

(Y/N) petted his tail, the stress evaporating from her, but it was still too much. She began to cry, no amount of strength to hold back her tears. Lycaon pet her hair as she leaned on him.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?”

(Y/N) didn’t say anything for a while, not until she stopped crying.

“Ever since I was little, I grew up in a house where if you couldn’t do everything yourself after being taught once, you weren’t good enough. It was like a war zone, a never ending one.” Lycaon’s ears began to droop as she continued on.

“I was ostracized in my family, but the teachers, and my employers always praised me. So I guess I clung to that feeling. And sometimes…,” she started tearing up again.

“What is it?” Lycaon asked her.

“Sometimes…I feel like maybe I don’t really love you. Like maybe I’m self consciously clinging to you because of your praise, just like everyone else. And it hurts! Because I really do love you, but I’m afraid that I’ve just convinced myself to believe that.”

Lycaon caressed (Y/N)’s cheek, making eye contact with her. “If you know that you love me, then you love me. The way your heart beats, mine is in sync with. I feel your pain and you feel mine. That’s not fake. And it never will be. I love you too, (Y/N).”

She smiled, hugging him so tight it will likely bruise. “For starters, I’m going to cut back on the workload.”

“And I will be of service to you, my love. As always and forever.”

- Fin

[amyispxnk]

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 6: Don’t Leave Me in the Dark

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - An overnight patrol leads to the resurfacing of some old wounds.

A/N: why did i almost cry writing this wow i don’t think i’ve ever written something quite so angsty ever. And i don’t even think it’s that angsty. whoops

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: fluff, pet names, angst, violence, death, mention of suicide attempt

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“Alright guys! Good work today, I’ll see you next week.” You grin, waving your students goodbye as the bell rings, signalling the end of the day.

It’s finally Thursday, which means that you and Joel will be going to the guitar store on your patrol, where you hope to find some stuff for Ellie’s birthday.

As you walk to the stables, you mull over the thoughts of some other gifts for the teenager, in case you don’t find anything there, before Joel greets you.

“Hey, sweetheart, you ready to go?” He smiles softly, biting back an even larger grin at the way your cheeks flush from his words. He’s found himself acting more confidently with you, even being able to tease you with this pet name nowadays since he discovered how flustered it could make you.

“Yeah-” your voice comes out slightly shaky, and you clear your throat. “Yeah. Let me just go get May ready.”

You feed your mare an apple before checking your bag and equipment, mounting your saddle and riding out of the gates with Joel.

The trail is much nicer at this time of year as spring slowly fades into summertime. The sun shines down on the pair of you and birds sing around you. It’s picturesque, and almost makes you forget about how the world is today, taking you back to a simpler time where you could walk outside your door without fear of being shot or torn to shreds by the end of the day.

“So anyway, we’re gonna head down here for a bit and then take a left. The store is in this little town we found a few months back.” Joel comments, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Alright.” You hum, and the two of you continue making your way there.

At around 7, you reach the little town, tying your horses up near the outskirts and grabbing your guns before heading deeper. Joel tells you that they weren’t even sure if the place was clear when they first came here, so it probably won’t be now. You should be ready for anything.

Hopefully it’s not as bad as that Route D patrol, you think to yourself as you crawl through rubble and make your way into the building.

That all-too-familiar feeling of unease settles into your bones as the darkness envelops you, dust floating in the air around you, made visible by your flashlights.

It’s pathetic, but you really don’t like the darkness. It’s scary enough when you can see what’s coming for you, but when you don’t know? When the unknown is all that surrounds you wherever you look?

You think that it’s worse.

Your eyes settle on Joel beside you. Even though his gas mask is on, you see that he’s looking at you, checking that you’re okay. His presence always makes you feel better, you’ve come to notice.

“Let’s do this.” You say, determination coursing through your veins, and he nods, leading the way.

As you walk down corridors, scanning rooms and closets, you find that the most remarkable thing in the building so far has been a decaying old body which has been swallowed by a cluster of cordyceps. Certainly not a promising sight, since it means that you’re bound to encounter some infected sooner or later, but you hope that the numbers aren’t strong.

Just over an hour later, you’re thankful to be right, having only encountered half a dozen runners, which you and Joel took down fairly easy.

“Hell yeah! Look, there’s some guitar stuff-” You start, forgetting yourself slightly in your excitement, causing a clicker from a stray closet to come barrelling through, charging straight for you. It jumps on top of you, causing you to scream, starting to fight back when Joel pulls his revolver out and shoots it thrice in the head. He tugs you out from beneath its now limp body.

He pants heavily, eyes wide as he looks at you.

“Are you bit?”

“No.”

He gives you a once-over before shaking his head, letting go of your wrist.

“You could’ve died. Fuck. Y’need to be more careful, can’t go around yellin’ like that.” He mutters, scoffing before walking off.

What the fuck? Why did he seem pissed off at you now?

“Jeez, sorry for almost fucking dying, Joel. I’ll be sure to not do it again.” You huff, going to the other side of the room to start searching for some stuff for Ellie’s guitar. You find a packet of strings and a pickboard with an intricate floral design on it that you think she’ll love. You’re pretty satisfied with the turnout, and pocket these items before heading back to Joel.

You’ve cooled off from the previous encounter, still a little annoyed from how he spoke to you, but not having the energy to fight over it. You’ve noticed the sun slowly starting to set, your detour to the store adding an extra few hours to your patrol and meaning you’ll likely have to spend the night here. You really don’t want to be arguing throughout it.

“Find anything?” You ask quietly, coming to his side. He hums in response, handing you a pick he found.

“Could probably carve somethin’ into that. Make it a little more unique for her, ‘f you want...” He says, trailing off again at the end.

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Could you?” You smile, excited to make the gift even better for Ellie. She’s special to you - why would you have gone to all of this trouble for her present, after all?

“Sure.” He nods, appearing uninterested in arguing and moving on from it by now as well.

He’s about to turn to leave when you speak up again.

“We’re probably gonna have to spend the night, Joel. Look outside.” You tell him, and sure enough, the sky has gone from a pale blue to a deep orange. You won’t make it back to Jackson in time, and you’d rather not be riding in the darkness.

“Yeah, reckon you’re right. Y’got your sleeping bag?” He nods, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Yes I’ve got my sleeping bag.” You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m always very prepared, Joel. You know this.” You tease, kneeling down to untie your sleeping bag.

“Sure, darlin’. Then you’d know we should secure the room before setting up the camp. Since you’re always so prepared.” He smirks, and pink tints your cheeks once more.

“Yeah, I was just- you just said to get the bag out so I just.. Whatever. I’ll secure the room.” You mutter bashfully, making him laugh. That laugh was worth the embarrassment, you decide as you stand up to help barricade the doors and windows.

You finally sit down around a little cooker just after the sky goes black, an owl hooting in the distance, wind rustling the leaves outside. It’s oddly calming.

“Thanks for earlier, by the way. I’m sorry for shouting. Was stupid.” You offer quietly, unable to meet his eyes over the stove, instead zeroing in on a piece of ravioli in some 20-year old Chef Boyardee.

“No, I-” he sighs, “Shouldn’t’ve gotten all annoyed at you, either. I’m sorry. Y’were jus’ excited, sweetheart. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Yeah, I guess. Thank you, anyway. You totally saved my ass. And you brought me here, too. I haven’t even thanked you for that. If I didn’t have you, I think my gift for Ellie would’ve been so shit.” You chuckle softly, and his lips curl into a smirk.

“I know, I know, you’d be completely lost without me.” He teases, and you laugh a little harder, giggling and hiding your face from him.

Moments like these are why you love being with Joel so much. Laughing so hard that your entire body floods with warmth and your stomach hurts by the end of it. It’s a welcome feeling in these times.

Wait. You love being around Joel? Your brows furrow as you have a conversation with yourself in your mind. You 100% just used ‘love’ and ‘Joel’ in the same sentence. That’s a scary, dangerous path to be going down right now. Just keep it chill.

Joel doesn’t seem to realise your internal struggle, getting up and wiping his hands on his jeans before taking your can and putting them to the side.

“Alright, I think y’should get some shuteye now. I’ll keep first watch. Night, sweetheart.” He says softly, feeling an unfamiliar but comforting feeling blooming inside of him at the thought of spending a night with you. Even if it’s just for patrol, it has him thinking about the potential future of your relationship. Maybe it could become more.

“Goodnight, Joel.” You say quietly, getting in your sleeping bag and facing away from him. You go tense when he turns the stove off, the room plunging into darkness. He doesn’t know of your fears, you realise. In fact, you don’t know much of anything personal about eachother at all.

A few uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing minutes later, you finally relent, sighing and rolling over to face him.

“Joel?” You say quietly into the night, eyes searching for him as you adjust to the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Can you- can you put the light on? I know it’s a waste of power but.. I just can’t really sleep in total darkness.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you want to shrivel up and die. He probably thinks it’s a stupid, irrational fear. Being afraid of the dark in a world like this is pathetic, you think.

“Yeah, course. I didn’t know, sorry sweetheart. Y’gon be okay?” He soothes your mind, his low voice putting you at ease.

“Yeah.” You mumble, and he turns the light on before it goes quiet again.

You keep tossing and turning for a good five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen. Fuck. Why are you so restless tonight? You guess that it’s because you haven’t slept on a patrol in a while, especially not in someone’s presence.. especially not in Joel’s presence.

You sigh frustratedly. Maybe you should just take watch instead.

“I can’t sleep. Let me take first watch instead. You rest.” You grunt, moving to get out of your sleeping bag.

“No, darlin’, you should sleep. Is somethin’ botherin’ you? Anythin’ I can do t’ help?” He offers, eyes soft and large as he gazes up at you from his seat on the floor. It makes your heart swell even more at his caring nature.

“It’s okay, Joel. Just sleep.” You say quietly, clearly not prepared to back down now. He sighs deeply.

“We can take watch together, yeah? I don’t… I just prefer bein’ awake out here.” He murmurs, and it’s only half of the truth. He actually just wants to make sure you’re safe. That, if you accidentally fall asleep or something, he’ll still be awake to protect you.

“Okay. If you’re sure.” You say, yawning softly as you take a seat on his right side. He turns back to face the window, and your eyes fall on that scar again, the one which lies at his temple.

“Hey, Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t even blink. Did he not hear you?

“Joel? Joel.” You say, a little louder now. He finally turns.

“Are you deaf or something?” You tease, but he doesn’t smile back.

“‘M sorry. I- yeah, kinda.” He responds, a little gruff.

“Oh shit. Sorry.” You say. He was kinda old, you realised. Not that much older than you, but still.

“‘S okay. I uh.. It happened near the start of the outbreak. In a fight.” He mutters, unsure of why he even told you that.

Well, he does know.

It’s because he wanted to tell you the true reason, but that’d probably scare you off, or weird you out. He can’t get that personal with you after only a few months of talking. For some reason, your presence just comforts him like no other, and he feels like he’s known you for years, like he can tell you everything, but you also know everything already, anyway.

“Damn. How’d you make it through the outbreak half deaf?” You murmur, genuinely curious now. That must’ve been why he always takes the left side in almost everything you do on patrols. Clearing a house? He’ll start on the left. Riding along a trail? He’ll listen out for anything along the left side of the path. You had your own suspicions, but this proves it.

“Dunno.” He shakes his head, gaze growing cold as his mind goes elsewhere, eyes getting wet as he recalls all he felt after losing Sarah.

You notice this, and start to panic a little. Shit. You’d asked for too much. You’ve brought up something sensitive unknowingly, and he’ll resent you for it.

You can’t just sit here and let him cry though.

“Hey, it’s okay, Joel. You- you can talk to me. Y’know I’m always here for you.” You say softly, turning to face him a little better. He turns his head and meets your eyes. For some reason, seeing him upset makes you want to cry too, resulting in your own eyes getting a little misty.

He clears his throat before he speaks.

“Had a daughter.” He chokes out, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Your heart almost stops. Had. Ellie wasn’t his kid, but he used to have one.

You try and think of what to say. I’m so sorry, Joel. That’s terrible, Joel. It’s a basic response, and you feel like it wouldn’t help. For once, you find yourself unable to navigate the situation.

“Scar ain’t from a fight. ‘S from me. Few days after Outbreak Day, when she-” he cuts himself off as his voice breaks, eyes squeezing tightly together.

You don’t know what compels you to do it, but you wrap your arms around him. He doesn’t reciprocate for a moment and you panic again, wondering if that was a bit bold, especially in his emotional state. But then his arms come around you, and he lets you in. He bites back the ugly sob that wants to escape his chest, instead only allowing a few silent tears to fall. You sniffle as you feel them on your skin.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You whisper, heart breaking as he cries quietly.

“Sorry. That.. was a bit much.” He mumbles, pulling back a little and clearing his throat after a moment, realising he’s supposed to be closed off and not let anyone in, not expose his emotions or feelings or thoughts, but you shake your head.

“Everyone has their demons, Joel. You shouldn’t be afraid to let yourself feel, especially around me.” You murmur. Maybe you should share your own past. You don’t want him to feel alone.

“You wanna know why I’m so afraid of the dark?” You begin, and he doesn’t protest, so you take a deep breath and continue.

“Lost my brother a few years back. Maybe a year before I got to Jackson. We were actually trying to find the place, travelling through the night, and we had to cut through this mall. There were infected roaming outside, and even though we knew that the mall could have raiders in it, we didn’t wanna take on a dozen clickers. So… we start wandering through this dark mall. No lights, no windows, and we only had one flashlight. He went in front and I was following, but- but I knocked something over. And then we heard voices in the distance. They said that they would check out the noise.” You pause to collect yourself, trying to prepare mentally as you recount what happened next. “They said that.. That if they saw anyone to just shoot them. All I remember was that it was so dark, before we saw the flashlight on a rifle. I barely had a chance to think before my brother grabbed my hand and ran blindly with me. We tried finding the exit but- just when we saw the light, he got shot. It was in his stomach and-” You cut yourself off with a quiet sob, trying to continue. “He just crumpled. The last thing he told me was- was to leave him. To keep going for him. I could hear the men coming, but I was still trying to pick him back up or- or something. Then I saw the man aim his gun at me and I panicked and I ran. Like a coward.” You can’t stop yourself from crying now, unable to say any more.

“Oh, baby…” He whispers, pulling you closer and letting you cry. You whimper at his touch. When was the last time you properly cried like this? You’ve been so used to putting on a mask that when you finally let go like this you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“I just- I feel so guilty. I don’t deserve to be happy and safe in Jackson without him. I should’ve died that night. I knocked over the fucking boxes, I-”

He shushes you gently, recognising what you actually mean, knowing the feeling all too well - and knowing you don’t deserve to feel like that.

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. He would’ve wanted you to live and be happy here… Don’t ever say that.” He says, quiet, but firm in his tone.

You sniffle, exhaling shakily. His words don’t totally convince you, but you know deep down that he’s right. He would’ve wanted you to be safe. He would’ve rested easier knowing that he was able to protect you in the end, that it was all worth something.

“I miss him, Joel.” You whimper.

“I know. I miss my girl so much it hurts. It never gets easier, does it?” He says, to which you nod, burrowing further into his side as you yawn softly. You cried yourself to exhaustion.

“Just sleep now, okay? I’ll be here. We’ll keep the lights on.”

You just nod, too tired to respond as your brain finally powers off, and you fall asleep.

He sighs, stroking your hair as he looks back to the slit in the window. He always knew. There was no way someone could truly be this happy on the outside, and really feel it on the inside. He wishes you did feel it on the inside, though. The pain of losing someone you love was one of the worst pains imaginable - he had the scars to prove it.

The next morning is quiet, but not awkward. You both exposed yourselves last night. Even though he said way less than you, you know that your levels of vulnerability vary greatly and you both showed eachother your rawest feelings and shared your darkest memories, deepening your relationship further.

“You ready to head back?” He says after you’ve packed everything up, and you nod.

The journey back starts off quiet, the two of you still deep in thought, before you finally pull yourself back together a little - enough to have some normal conversation.

“So, you got a party planned for Ellie’s birthday?” You ask, looking over at him. He’s on your left again, and you try not to think about why, now that you know the true reason.

“I dunno. Was gonna do somethin’ at the Bison, but I’m not sure yet.”

“Joel!” You gasp playfully. “Her birthday’s only a few weeks away! You gotta let me help you plan this party. I’ll make it into every 16 year-old’s dream.”

He gives you a teasing look, and you roll your eyes. “Trust me, Joel. I got better taste than you, that’s for sure.” You argue, and he relents.

“Fine. If she hates it, I’m blamin’ you.”

“Challenge accepted.” You snicker, hiding the bubbling excitement inside of you, knowing you’ll be spending even more time with Joel over the next few weeks.

Trying to ignore the fact that you cannot fucking wait.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @roryfuckedurmum @s0meoone

[repulsiveliquidation]

Kiss Me Before You Go

Leah Williamson x Reader Blurb!

Angst. Based on a song, kiss me before you go by will hyde. I wrote this in 15 minutes on the plane when I heard this song come on lol.

just a little something before i post again later!

//

“I can’t fucking do this anymore Leah!”

“You can’t do this? I’ve been trying, you can’t just throw us away like that!”

“Watch me.”

She walks out the door, slamming it behind her. I stare at it and wait, hoping that she opens the door and walks back inside. Waiting for her to slam herself back into my arms. Waiting for her to kiss me. Waiting for her to love me again.

She doesn’t. A car door slams, engine runs and she’s gone. The love of my life is gone.

She said she’d never leave.

//

“It’s been a week Leah, you’ve got to get out of this bed.”

“I don’t want to.”

“She walked out on you, Lee. She left.”

“She’ll be back. She always comes back.”

“No one knows where she is. She’s not coming back.”

“Get out.”

“Leah please.”

“I SAID GET OUT OF MY HOUSE ALESSIA!”

Alessia walks out quietly, leaving Leah alone. Leah cries again for the umpteenth time, hoping and praying that her belief that you will show up comes true. It has to.

//

“How is she doing, Ale?”

“You know exactly how she’s doing, hermana.”

“I want to go back, I really do. But she’s been a handful since her injury. She gets mad easily and she blames everyone but herself. I can’t blame her, she’s frustrated I get that. But she doesn’t get to walk all over me just because she’s had her life turned upside down!” Frustrated tears flow down your cheeks, Alexia pulls you into her arms and rocks you slowly. You’ve gone back to Spain, needing to be away from Leah and home was the best option.

“I know bebita. You put up with me when I got injured. I know how she feels and I know it’s hard but she needs you now more than ever Pequeño. She needs some time but she also needs someone who is strong than she is right now. For me, it was Mami, Alba and you. She has her family; no doubt they’ll be the ones who will be there for her, but you’re different to her. You’re you. She needs that.”

You mull on Alexia’s words, nodding softly into her chest. She smiles, rubbing your back with a happy smile on her face that she got through to you. Leah had called her sobbing before you got here, knowing that you would have either stayed with one of the Arsenal girls or gone home. When no one at Arsenal had heard from you she called Alexia. She thought it was odd to get a call from the England captain but answered anyway. Her sobs broke Alexia’s heart, listening to her cry out for you and to tell you that she loved you and that she hoped you would come home after you’ve had a bit of time.

About 20 minutes later you called her and told her you were booking a flight to Barcelona and after she ended the call she sighed. She knew about Leah’s injury and having suffered the same one just a few months before she knew how stressful it must have been.

You sat on the couch that night and booked the next flight back to England. You called Alessia and asked her how Leah was doing and your heart shattered at the news that Leah had been cooped up in bed the whole week. You apologized to Alessia for having to be a part of this, promising that you would make it right.

//

The sound of the front door unlocking scared Leah. She was about to go out there and yell at Alessia for disturbing her again when she was met with the one person she had wanted to see all week. She stood there dumbfounded, rubbing her eyes and hoping she wasn’t dreaming. You walked in the house, standing in front of her.

“Leah?”

She doesn’t answer, crumbing to the ground in tears. You immediately pull her into your lap, sitting on the floor with her. You cry with her, cradling her and rocking her back and forth.

“I’m so sorry. I love you so much Leah, I’m so sorry I walked out.”

“You left me when I needed you.”

“I know baby, I’m so sorry I did that. I broke a promise I made to you. I can only hope you can forgive me baby.”

“I needed you…I cried out for you…I wanted you to hold me and to tell me I was going to be okay…”

“I will now, my love. I will try to be better. I love you. I love you so much it hurt so bad to be away from you when I knew in my heart and soul that you needed me. I was wrong. I wasn’t trying hard enough. I will try harder now, only if you’ll let me.”

“Please, don’t break my heart again.”

“I won’t my love. I’ll put it back together and I’ll never break it again.”

[gretavanlace]

A few days ago, I received an ask that came bearing the gift of a smutty little josh/danny/reader number. Tumblr was being a dick (what a shocker) about the length, so I couldn’t just answer to post it. I then agreed to post it later on, annnnnnd then promptly forgot because that’s just the way I’m wired. I’ve been mildly senile since birth, it seems, but eventually, I always remember (mostly). Anyway, without further ado, here is said fic.

Thank you so much, anon, I hope you’ll forgive the wait. I just know they’re going to love it! I know I did 🥵 Josh & Danny lane, grab a spoon and settle in at the table, you’re about to be fed

18+ below the cut. Completely unedited as it is not my work and therefore not my place. Warnings: plenty of them

apologies for the REALLY long ask, just had this idea

premise: you’re with Danny, but occasionally, you catch him staring at Josh with hungry, horny eyes

Warnings: anal penetration (m receiving), oral (both receiving), penetration (f receiving), “daddy” and “mama”. I think that’s all!

“Daniel?” You ask. He hums contentedly in response, not looking up from his sketchbook. “I have a question for you, my sweet boy.”

“Yes, love?” Now his eyes are on you, deep brown and trusting. You sit down next to him, close enough that there’s barely a space between you.

“Be honest with me. How long have you been thinking about fucking Josh?” you ask. His eyes widen.

“What?” he asks, immediately on the defensive. “Baby, no, I—“

“Daniel,” you snap. “I said honestly. Are you my good boy?” You know that’ll get him. Danny has a submissive streak a mile wide.

“Yes,” he says quietly.

“And do good boys lie?” You ghost your hand over his rapidly hardening cock.

“Um,” he stammers, shifting away from your touch.

“Do they?” you push again, hand groping his dick through his pants. It betrays him and he curses it under his breath.

“No, good boys don’t lie.” Danny chooses his words carefully. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie. I want Josh. I have for months. Maybe even years. I’m sorry, my queen. Please punish me.”

You grin. So the truth comes out. “I won’t punish you, baby boy. Everyone deserves a second chance, and you made the right choice. That’s my good boy.” You kiss his cheek, then stand and walk away.

“Queen?” he calls after you. “What do I do with my pitiful dick?”

You hesitate — he’s supposed to be in some trouble, so you’re not sure he should be permitted to touch himself, but you have things to do, and you don’t need whiny Daniel all over you. And you certainly will not be doing it for him. “Play with yourself, go ahead.”

You walk to the bedroom, texting Josh. “Coffee & donuts?” you ask.

“Yes! I’ll meet you in 20.”

You smile deviously. Josh has no clue the proposition you’ll bring to your innocuous breakfast date. Stepping back into the hallway, you listen to Danny finish himself off. As soon as he cums, you appear next to him. “Lick it off,” you whisper into his ear. He doesn’t hesitate to bring his fist to his mouth, cleaning it off completely. “Good boy. I’ll be back.”

A short while later, you’re sitting in a cafe across from Josh, sharing donuts and coffee. He’s as pleasant as always, smiling and laughing.

“Where’s Danny, anyway?” he finally asks.

“He’s at home. But there’s a reason for that. I have… an idea for you, Josh.” Josh raises an eyebrow, chewing his donut, nodding for you to continue. “I know you’ve seen the way Danny’s eyes linger on you. On your lips, your crotch.” Josh doesn’t react to this. “I want to give him everything he wants, and he wants you. Will you have him, for just one night?”

Josh considers it. “Yeah, okay,” he says evenly. “But I do have a request.”

“Anything,” you say.

“I want you there too.” Josh smiles.

You grin. “That sounds perfect. Tonight?” Josh nods.

“Are you going to tell him?” You consider the question. He might back out if he has too much time to mull it over, you think.

“No.” He nods again. “Be there at 9:00. I’ll tell him then, and if you don’t get a text by 9:15, you can leave.”

“That sounds good” Josh agrees. He stands to hug you, kissing your cheek. “Love you,” he adds.

Later that evening, you’re preparing Daniel. It’s 8:45 or so, and you know Josh will be there soon.

“Danny?” you call from the bedroom. “Could you come here and fasten this for me?” You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, holding a strap from your favorite lingerie. Sure, you could do it yourself. But there’s no fun in that. You hear his footsteps in the hall, then the sharp intake of breath when he sees you.

“Baby,” he grins, walking to you. “What’s all this for?” he takes the strap from your hand and fastens it, then pulls you into him. You can feel his stiff cock through his jeans, poking you.

“I want you,” you answer simply. You turn toward him, cupping his face with one hand, and his dick with the other. Dropping to your knees, you take your sweet time undoing his belt, the button and zipper. You pull down his pants, eyeing his monster cock through the gray boxer briefs. You pull them down, cock springing free, and immediately take it into your mouth. He puts his hand in your hair, but knows better than to pull your head into him, or to thrust. He may be receiving the pleasure, but make no mistakes, you’re in charge.

“Thank you,” he says, like the good boy he is. You work down his shaft, taking it all in, drinking him down. “You make me feel so good.” You ignore his praise, focusing on making him feel even better. His fingers curl around your hair, tugging, and you smile, sucking him down, giving the sloppiest, most knee buckling head you can muster. “Oh, fuck,” he moans. “I’m close already.” You nod — you know. “Please, is it okay? Can I cum, please?” You nod around him, and in seconds, thick hot ropes of cum are shooting down your throat. You hold him there, close to you, grabbing his ass. “Mmm, fuck,” he says again. “Thank you.” You release him and swallow, and he offers his hand, helping you up. He kisses you, warm lips on yours soft as can be, brushing your hair back behind your ear.

“You’re so good for me,” you say into the kiss. “Aren’t you good for me? Tell me.”

“I’m good for you,” repeats Danny obediently.

“That’s right.” You kiss him again, eyeing the clock. 9:03. Okay. Go time. “Am I good for you, Danny?”

“Yes, yes, you’re so good for me!” he agrees. You smile.

“You wanna know how good I am?” you ask. He nods, looking at you expectantly. “Josh is waiting outside right now. You say the word, and he comes in here. We’ll both give you the time of your life.” Danny thinks it over, considering the possibility. He wants Josh. He does. Just once, really, he just wants to feel Josh, to see him and taste him. You can see him trying to decide, and judging by his cock growing between you, you think he wants it, but something is holding him back. “No tricks. No strings. I see the way you look at him.” You say. “I love you, and I want to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

“I want him,” Danny admits, breathing hard.

“Then let me tell him.” You slide your phone out of your pocket and send Josh a text, telling him to come up.

Danny looks at you. “Are there any rules?” he asks.

“No, baby. Your only rule is to feel good.” You kiss his neck, and Danny shivers.

It’s then that you hear Josh’s footsteps in the hallway, and pull back, letting Daniel see him as he steps into the room. Suddenly, he goes shy, burying his face into your neck.

“Hello Daniel” Josh smiles.

“Baby?” you ask. “You okay? What’s your color?”

“Green,” Danny confirms with a shaky breath. “May I… may I taste him?”

“You ask him that, baby.”

Before Danny even gets the chance to ask, Josh is answering. “Yes,” he says. He pulls Daniel close and kisses him, hands in his long curly hair. “She’s right,” Josh agrees. “You are such a good boy.” Daniel whines into his kiss, his hand reaching down to touch Josh’s crotch. He’s pleasantly surprised to find Josh already hard, palming him through his sweatpants.

“I want to taste it,” Danny says.

“Then do it,” answers Josh. “Go ahead. This is all for you, Daniel, you get everything you want tonight.” Danny is on his knees in a flash, pulling Josh’s pants down, straight to the ankles. He marvels at Josh’s cock for a minute, thicker than he could’ve imagined, long and hard. He hesitates, then opens his mouth, wrapping it around the head of Josh’s dick. The moment he feels Joshua’s warm skin in his mouth, the taste of him all around, he moans. You’re watching your boyfriend suck dick like he’s done it a thousand times, taking Josh’s whole length into his mouth. Josh thrusts into him once, gently, and Danny whines, nodding.

You lay back on the bed, watching, and reach to the nightstand for a little pleasure of your own.

“Good boy,” you tell Danny, who looks to you, moaning again, and returns to feasting on Josh’s cock like a starving man.

Josh smiles, petting Danny’s hair, letting him take it slow and enjoy himself. It was all for him, after all. Josh didn’t care if he didn’t even cum, though he knew he likely would, and soon, the way Danny was going. “You feel so good, Danny, you’re a natural,” praises Josh.

“Wanna make you feel good,” Danny pants.

“You’re doing so good,” Josh tells him.

Danny nods. “Wanna make you cum. Will you cum for me? Wanna taste it.” He’s whining, chest rising and falling dramatically.

“I’ll cum for you,” Josh says. “You feel so fucking good I won’t be able help it.” Danny nods, his warm mouth around Josh’s warm cock. “I’m gonna cum, Daniel, fuck. Do you want it in your mouth? On your chest?” Danny’s whining loudly, panting, taps his chest.

“Chest,” he pants. “Rain on me, please. My chest, my face, everywhere.” Danny goes back to his work on Josh’s dick, when it pulls out with a pop and Josh moans, cock spitting all over Daniel, on his face, dripping down his chin to his muscular pecs.

“FUCK,” Josh says. Danny’s licking his lips, searching for another drop of Josh’s perfect cum. “Mm, here baby,” Josh swipes up some from Danny’s chest, putting his fingers into Daniel’s mouth, feeding him the cum. “Here, good boy.”

You take it all in, pleasuring yourself all the time.

Danny turns his head to look at you. “No rules?” he asks again.

“No rules,” you confirm.

Danny looks at Josh, eyes wide and pleading. “Fuck me. Fuck my hole please and use me.”

Josh’s eyes widen, and he turns to you, seeking permission. You nod.

“Anything for you,” Josh answers.

“Baby?” Danny asks, looking at you.

“Yes, my sweet boy?”

“Will you come over here? I want you to take care of my cock while I take his, please.” There is a fire in his eyes, and you couldn’t so much as imagine saying no, not the way he looks.

Josh smiles at him. “God, you’re fucking filthy.” He puts a hand on Danny’s shoulder and guides him to the bed, where he gestures for him to lay down. Danny props himself up on all fours on top of you, hovering just above you with his ass ready to take Josh’s thick length.

Danny looks at you. His eyes are full of love, trust, and adoration. “Thank you, baby,” he says, leaning up to kiss you. You kiss him, amazed at all the beauty happening around you. It’s amazing to see Josh look after Danny the way he does, treating him gently, with gentle, intuitive touches of someone who’s done it a thousand times.

“Lube?” Josh asks. You reach over to the nightstand, fumbling around until you feel it, then handing it over. Josh pours a good amount onto Danny’s hole, coating his finger in it also. “We’ll start slow” he tells Danny, swirling his finger around the tight entrance. “You’re tight, baby, that’ll feel so nice.” He praises, and you watch Danny’s face light up, then immediately turn to a blissful, erotic expression that can only mean Josh has begun to ease his finger into Danny. “Aren’t you a good boy,” Josh hums.

You spit into your hand, eager to get in on the action, and wrap your fist around it, pumping slowly, from end to end just the way he likes. “Does that feel good, baby?” you ask, sitting up to whisper into his ear. He nods, whining with pleasure.

“You’re so eager,” Josh remarks. “Taking me in all the way, are you ready for more?”

Danny, eyes closed, cries back “yes sir, fuck, yes daddy.” His eyes shoot open a second, realizing what he’s said, looking at you for approval.

“No rules means no rules,” you assure him, trying not to reveal just how hot and bothered it got you, the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. Josh slips another finger in, sending Daniel rocketing forward into you. You keep a steady hand on his cock and move your hand from his back to offer your breast. He takes it gratefully, suckling and biting at your nipple with each stretching push from Josh. You put your hand back on Danny’s back, gently scratching. He thrusts his hips, asking for you to stroke his cock, and you happily oblige.

“You ready, baby doll?” asks Josh. Danny nods, and cries out, feeling so empty when Josh takes his fingers out. Just as quickly as he’d taken his fingers out, he replaces them with the tip of his cock, pushing in slowly, steadily. “If you need me to stop, just tell me” Josh reminds him.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please” Danny begs.

“Okay, darling, okay. Calm down. Daddy’s a good listener too, just like you.” Josh’s words, so reassuring, and yet, pure filth spewing from his mouth, make you smile.

Danny’s warm mouth finds your shoulder this time, and you slide down, giving your shoulder to him to bite while Josh stretches him further. He obliges, kissing it at first but wrapping his mouth around it and biting the closer Josh gets to bottoming out. You take your hand off of his cock to collect some of your dripping wetness, wrapping your sloppy soaked hand back around him. “You feel that, baby? That’s all from you two boys, such good boys, you did that.”

Danny nods, biting you again, moaning as you pump his cock. Josh bottoms out, and the tears in Danny’s eyes fall. “Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, this feels so fucking good.” His cock twitches in your hand, revealing how close he was. “Stop,” he said, and the room stilled.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I want to fuck you, please, can I?” he asks, eyes pleading. “Please, let me finish in you.” You smile, feeling around for a condom, rolling it onto his aching, impossibly hard cock. “Thank you, baby,” he breathes. You situate yourself underneath of him, sliding his dick into your soaking wet cunt, where it belongs. You feel yourself wrap around him immediately, taking him.

“Okay,” he says. “Go again.” Josh thrusts, slowly, but the force is enough to send Danny’s cock full force into you, not quite to the hilt but damn close. You moan, reaching for Danny’s back, scratching as the pleasure rides across you. As Josh picks up speed, so do Danny’s thrusts into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” he cries. “Please, fuck, can I cum?”

Before you can open your mouth, Josh says “no.” Danny hesitates. “Hold on just a little longer, please,” and it’s then that both of you realize how close Josh is too.

“Oh, fuck, yes sir, I want to feel you fill my hole with cum while I cum, please daddy,” Danny says. Josh nods, biting his lip, thrusting harder. You’re not quite there, but that’s alright — it was Danny’s night, after all.

“Okay,” Josh says, nodding, his voice more of a cry than anything. “I’m— I’m gonna—“

“Me too,” Danny says, and you feel him let go inside of you a second later. “FUCK,” he roars, grinding and gnashing through his orgasm. “Fuck, holy fucking, fuck, thank you, thank you Josh, thank you Daddy, fuck, thank you, baby thank you thank you thank you,” he whines, almost incoherent as he comes down from his orgasmic high. He’s collapsed on top of you, dick still buried deep inside.

“Okay, baby,” Josh soothes. “I’m gonna take it out now, are you ready?”

Danny nods, bracing himself against you. You feel him relax as Josh slides it out, takes the condom off and ties it, to be thrown away.

“You ready to take it out?” you ask. Daniel pouts.

“You didn’t finish,” he says.

Before you can remind him that this was his night, Josh pipes up. “Yet. She didn’t come yet. Josh lays down next to you on the bed. “Remember how I said I wanted you here, doll?” You shiver at the implication. “Daniel, darling, she was so good, wasn’t she?”

Danny nods. “The fucking best.”

“Don’t you think she deserves to cum?” Again, Daniel nods. Josh looks at you.

“How do you want to cum, baby? Tell us how we can please you.” You feel so warm, basking in the sunshine of Josh’s gentle, sexy ways. You think it over; Josh has had two orgasms, and so has Danny. You want to try Josh’s cock on for size, see how it feels, how it fills you up. “Stop thinking,” Josh snaps, and fuck, it’s even sexier than sweet, loving Josh. “You said no rules, and that applies to you too. No rules. Don’t worry about us. How do you want to cum?” You bite your lip.

“I want you to fuck me,” you finally answer. “And when you come inside me, I want Danny to lick our cum up off of my cunt.”

Josh smiles. “You heard the girl, Daniel.” He nods, finally pulling himself out of you, and kissing your forehead.

“I love you,” he says, getting up.

“Watch,” you speak suddenly, surprising even yourself. ��I watched you blow him, and you fucked me while he fucked you. Now I want you to watch him fuck me.” Danny nods.

“Yes, my queen,” he answers. He kneels on the ground, staring at you as Josh lines himself up with you.

“You ready, mama?” asks Josh. Mama. Oh, fuck.

“Yes,” you answer. He slips in easily; you’re still soaked.

“Filthy girl,” he growls in your ear. “You’re dripping.”

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly. He fills you up, but you want more. You want him to fuck you, the sensitive head of his cock crashing against your g spot. “Please,” you ask, snaking your legs around his small body. “Fuck me.”

Josh smiles. “You hear that, Daniel? Your lover is begging me to fuck her,” he says.

“Give her what she wants,” Danny says, his voice strained in a way that tells you he’d have been capable of finishing you himself. Instead, he’s toying with his own red, hard cock

Josh starts to thrust, and you’re taken immediately by it. It’s intoxicating, so big and thick, and you can’t believe how fucking good he feels.

“Feels good, doesn’t it mama?” asks Josh.

“Cocky son of a bitch you are,” you pant back.

“You can call me daddy too, if you want,” Josh offers with false innocence, that devilish grin showing back up. Fuck, your legs are shaking.

“Mama and daddy,” you chuckle. “My my.” Just as you’re about to make another smartass remark, he thrusts again, taking your breath away. “FUCK, Josh,” you cry out. “I’m… I’m close, Josh, please,” you tell him.

“I know,” he says, but his tone isn’t the cool and calm one he’d been going for; it betrays just how close he is too.

“Fuck me,” you say, shamelessly grinding into him. He listens, bucking into you erratically. “Oh, fuck,” you say. “I can’t wait, I’m cumming, fuck,” you tell him.

“I’m cumming,” he assures you, and you feel his heat fill you as you let go. He gives an animalistic growl at the way your pussy thumps wrapped around him. “Fuck,” he says.

A shadow looms above you. Danny.

“My turn,” he says. Josh rolls over and Danny grabs his hair. “Taste me,” he tells Josh, feeding him the cum from his fist.

“Thank you,” Josh says. He licks it off, swallowing it all.

Danny lays on the bed, spreading your legs. With the first warm embrace of his tongue, you already know you won’t last long. He feels so good, and the little moans he’s making as he tastes your cum and Josh’s drive you crazy.

“You taste so good,” he tells you.

“You feel even better,” you answer. “You’re such a good boy.” He’s sweating, licking and suckling at your cunt, your aching clit, like he’ll die without it. “Oh fuck,” you manage. “Right there, fuck. I want your fingers.” He slides them in, curling around your g-spot. “Fuck, oh god, Danny,” you’re all but screaming now. “I’m gonna squirt, fuck,” and this is all the encouragement he needs to get you there. You’re gushing around him in a minute, blinded by white hot orgasm. You feel your hands in his hair as you come down, and realize he’s licking the squirt off of you.

“Josh,” he says. “Come taste,” and Josh does, taking Danny’s place for a moment. His lips and tongue are cooler than Danny’s, and you squirm.

“He’s right, darling, you taste divine,” Josh says. “Would you like a taste?” You nod, so he comes up to give you a kiss. You taste yourself on his breath, just the way he said you would.

He situates himself next to you, not minding the wet spot for even a second.

“Thank you” Daniel says from the other side of you. “Both of you, thank you.”

“I love you,” you tell him, turning your head for a kiss.

“Let’s get cleaned up, loves” Josh soothes. He gets up and helps you to your feet first, shuffling the first few steps to the shower with you before going back for Danny. You wince, knowing Danny’s going to be sore, and start the water to clean you all up.

You spend the night between Josh and Danny, snuggling, safe and comfortable, and so fulfilled.

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Back to Black Part 3

AN: Hello my loves! When I say this is a fic I was worried would NEVER see the light of day cause it was rewritten so many times. Like me and her we have been going at it for months on end so I’m super happy to say it’s finally out. The love y’all have for this series is sooooo mindblowing for me, I wanna say thank you for all the nice comments y’all always leave it really does make my day. Last thing, you’ll notice I’ve got a gen taglist and then a BTB taglist, if you want to be on either please let me know!

Summary: After vowing to never step foot in Wakanda again, unforeseen circumstances bring you back and face to face with everything (and everyone) you left.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cursing and alcoholism.  

Word count: 2,822

Part 1.   Part 2.   Masterlist.  Taglist.

Suggested listening: What It Is (Demo) - Amy Winehouse.

“Relationship, dust and remains We resonate on different planes I could cut you down again If you was like all other men If you were like all other men I know that I could shut you down again“

You knew sleeping with Shuri was a bad idea, even if it was just for one night, but damn did you get some of the best sleep of your life. At first, you two lay on opposite ends of the bed, Shuri too scared to make the first move and you second-guessing what you were even doing in her bed in the first place. It went against everything you told yourself you were standing for, to crawl back into her bed with such ease.

The touching started slowly, despite the King sized bed, somehow both of you had made your way into the middle. Shuri’s hand reached out for yours, when they met and didn’t immediately pull away she thanked Bast for allowing her even this little pleasantry. Drowsy with sleep, drunk on emotions and the thought of how much you missed the good days, you interlaced your fingers and pulled Shuri closer. 

Once she was a few inches from your body you let go of her hand and placed your whole arm above her. She looked at you for a moment before crawling into your arm, resting her head on your chest where she always did. You wrapped your arm that was above her around her waist bringing her body into you and she wrapped her free arm around your torso.

Shuri let out a deep breath, one that sounded like she had been holding it in for a long time, releasing all of her stress into you. Everything was quiet and you both assumed the other had fallen asleep despite each being consumed by your thoughts. You contemplated if this was setting you back from all the progress you had made over the past six months, sliding back into Shuri’s bed and willingly opening your arms to her. Isn't this exactly what you told yourself you weren't going to do?

Meanwhile, Shuri mulled over the gravity of the situation at hand. You, Shuri’s Y/N were back in Wakanda. Many a night had Shuri spent dreaming of this, the day that you would return and fall back into her arms. But this wasn’t what she had dreamed. No. You weren’t back in Wakanda under happy circumstances to rekindle your relationship, instead, you had been brought to her by the two people who knew her the best in a last-ditch attempt to pull her out of a depression. And there was no one Shuri could think to blame but herself.  

You felt her shake beneath you slightly and looked down. She hadn’t seen you look at her as her eyes were closed but you stared at her long enough to catch a few tears glide out of her eyes. The moonlight of the room gave Shuri’s skin a bluish tint and the tears glistened on the surface of her skin.

“I am SO sorry Y/N.” She spoke softly but you could hear the pain in her words. “I have done this to us, I have damned us.”

You wanted to speak, to reassure her that she wasn’t the one who had done this to your relationship, but your mouth ran dry of words. You couldn’t lie and say Shuri wasn’t the one who caused this when deep down you knew she was. As Shuri lay there crying on your chest you fought back tears of your own, this wasn’t something one night of apologies could fix.

By the time you woke up, Shuri was still clung to your body, now fast asleep. You knew you needed to get up and make something to eat for the two of you but you wanted to savor this rare moment of calm before what you assumed would be an emotional day ahead. You had always thought Shuri to be beautiful but now in the early morning light, you took advantage of the time to gaze upon her sleeping face. Noticing the way her eyelashes curled up ever so slightly and how plump her bottom lip looked while it was poked out as she slept. The scene laid out in front of you was almost picture-perfect until you remembered the last time you had been in the room.

Frantically stuffing as many clothing items as you could into a tiny book bag and uploading photos and memories onto a flash drive. Knowing that at any moment if you were to be discovered attempting to leave, there would be one hell of an argument waiting for you.

Suddenly the feeling of Shuri’s arm wrapped around your waist no longer felt like a security blanket but like a weight holding you down. The scent that enveloped you in comfort when she finally laid on you, now made you feel like you were drowning in her and couldn't get out. Your brain couldn’t comprehend quickly you made the switch from vowing to never speak to the woman again to now clearly acting as a source of comfort to her. Especially in such a physical way, given everything she’d done.

Not wanting to stay much longer and cause yourself further emotional turmoil you slowly slid yourself out of her arms. You padded quietly over to your drawers and quickly picked something to wear of the things you had left here, deciding on just a simple pair of black leggings and an oversized white shirt. You walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind you, not wanting to disturb Shuri. Turning on the shower you washed all of your anxiety down the drain, lathering yourself in the fine Wakdandan soaps you had missed. You finished by lotioning and getting dressed in the outfit you had picked out.

You looked at Shuri’s sleeping body one more time before you left the room on the mission to figure out what you could cook. The kitchen that was attached to your wing was surprisingly not bare of real food, to your surprise. The fridge was stocked with fresh fruit, milk, and other essentials. And the pantry was filled with various types of flour and other baking needs.

You decided on making pancakes, grits, eggs, and turkey bacon with a fruit salad on the side. Before you started cooking you grabbed a water bottle and a few pain relievers from the cabinet and placed them quietly back on the nightstand in your room. Knowing when the Queen woke up she was going to have one hell of a hangover.

Your cooking had consumed so much of your attention that you hadn’t even noticed the sound of Shuri getting out of bed. You were chopping the last bits of fruit for the salad when you saw her appear in the doorway, hand shielding her eye from all the light that was coming in through the windows that lit the kitchen. She approached you slowly and you couldn’t tell if it was the hangover or her nerves.

“Thank you for the uh pain pills.” She stopped on the other side of the counter. “I can feel them starting to work already.”

Words once again didn’t come easy to you and you just nodded an “Mhm.” as you swept the strawberries into the fruit bowl. You both stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment before you finally spoke up. “We should eat before the food gets cold. I didn’t know how much of an appetite you would have so I just made your favorites.” The end of your sentence trailed off, how were you even supposed to know if these were still her favorites? What if they had changed in your time apart?

Shuri had been too busy trying to speak to you this morning to even notice the breakfast spread you had laid out on the dining room table. She looked in awe as you two walked over to the table, you setting down the fruit salad as the final missing piece. Shuri was overcome with gratitude at that moment, not only had you slept in her bed last night upon her request but you woke up the next morning and made breakfast for her. How could she of been so stupid to fuck this up?

Breakfast was quiet aside from the sound of utensils scraping across plates. Shuri ate like she hadn’t been fed in days and you imagined all of the alcohol had somewhat done damage to her appetite. You found yourself not that hungry, your mind could only think of the speech you had planned for Shuri as you cooked. When she had eaten the last bit of fruit from her plate she looked up at you and said “Thank you sthandwa, I really needed that.”

The sound of that pet name somehow brought warmth to your heart despite everything that she did. “I’m just glad to see you eat again Shuri, you don’t look like you have been.”

The young royal shifted in her seat and brought her eyes back to her plate. Even though she knew she had gotten thinner, after you left Shuri, her own personal health had become the least of her concerns.

You could tell your remark brought her some amount of discomfort and you knew part of it was a shame that the mistreatment of her own body had become apparent enough for others to notice. Not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, you changed the topic, starting with the speech you had prepared. “I have done some thinking, Shuri.”

“Oh?”

“I’m only going to be in Wakanda for seven more days, no more than that. I was brought here to get you back on your feet and that’s what I’m going to do but I won’t sacrifice my life to do that.” The words came from your mouth with more confidence than you had anticipated but you weren't mad at it.

Shuri nodded, sensing there was more where this was coming from.

“I really don’t know what’s happened since I left Shuri, but I can tell you what’s not gonna happen while I’m here. No more drinking, that's gotta be the first thing you let go.”

Shuri helped herself to another serving of grits, “Okay.” She agreed, spooning the dish on her plate.

“And you need to at least talk to Okoye and Nakia about what's going on, no more shutting them out.”

Shuri repeated the soft “Okay.” just as she had before.

You pushed the serving of eggs around your plate preparing to say what you knew was going to be the hardest for her to go along with. “And Toussaint, you need to talk to him.”

The Queen started to protest but you cut her off.

“I don’t care what you say to him Shuri, I’m not saying you need to make amends while I’m here. But he deserves something from you at least, Nakia told me how much he misses you. You owe him a conversation at least.” You pulled yourself up from the table and gathered your plate before Shuri could speak. You made your way over to the sink and started washing off some of the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher.

The air stood still and felt stale as the young royal sat at the table alone, left with just your words. Sure she knew you were right, her drinking had become a vice she could no longer control but was too scared to reach out for help.

The way she had isolated herself from Okoye and Nakia made embarrassment course through her body, the two women who had never left her side and she couldn’t even return their calls. 

And Toussaint, just the thought of her nephew feeling abandoned set her insides aflame with shame. In everything you said though there was one person you left out.

“And what about you?” Shuri asked with her back to you, you had to turn off the water to ensure that you’d actually heard her.

“What?”

She stood from her chair and brought her plate over to the sink where you stood. She stood on the other side of the dishwasher door, holding your eye contact. “You have said something about everyone that I have hurt except for yourself.”

You faltered for a moment as you took the plate from her hand and rinsed it off. “This isn’t about me.”

“Why wouldn’t it be about sthandwa? I hurt you just as much as I hurt them.” The honesty in Shuri’s voice was refreshing, she hadn’t been confused last night for something it wasn’t.

You closed the dishwasher and turned on your heels. “You need to focus on the people who are in your life, Shuri.” “Are you not in my life?” She questioned, following behind you closely.

“I’m not-” You sighed, pushing your hands through your hair. “I’m not in your life the way they are. Nakia and Okoye are in your life, I’m…”

Shuri took your stuttering as an opportunity and quickly placed herself in front of you. “You are what sthandwa?”

Her sudden presence in front of you made you nervous, now that she was looking less disheveled some of the familiar feelings surrounding her started to return. To calm yourself naturally, your hands found their way to the necklace Shuri had gifted you. Her eyes flashed down to your hands and she grabbed them instinctually, “I owe you just as much if not more of an apology.”

Your hands felt safe in hers, the way her thumbs naturally rubbed up and down calmed you. You couldn’t look at her, you kept your eyes glued to your hands. It all felt so right again. The buzz of your phone pulled your attention from her and snapped you out of your trance. You took a step back, disconnecting your hands from hers, and grabbed your phone from your pocket.

Toussaint has a tutor this morning, come over for mimosas. I want to take advantage of our time together, I have missed you sisi.

Nakia

Like a gift sent from God or Bast herself Nakia provided you and out from this conversation. “I should go.”

“We didn’t even finish talking.” Shuri contended, desperate to have you that close to her again.

“There isn’t anything else for me to say.” And with that, you made your way out of the bedroom, on a mission to see Nakia.

You sat on Nakia’s couch, the laughter between you two had died down after she explained to you Toussaint’s most recent antics. It was a comfortable silence but you had known Nakia long enough to know there was something on her mind.

“Alright what is it? What’s the question you’ve been trying to find a way to slip into our conversation.” You cocked your head to the side with a slight smile to ease Nakia’s nerves, letting her know you weren't mad.

She took a sip of her champagne flute. “I was that obvious?”

“Motherhood seems to have done a number on your poker face.”

“Hey!” Nakia feigned hurt at your response and you two laughed it off. “I hope it’s not too painful for me to ask but I wanted to know, what happened the night that you left? You didn’t even give me enough time to say anything before you were gone. It was all so sudden”

The slight pain in her voice wasn’t lost on you and you felt an ache in your heart remembering the way you left things. Nakia and you had built up a rather close bond while you were in Wakanda. You considered her a sister to you so hearing how much pain and confusion your departure caused her made you ashamed for not reaching out sooner. You refilled your glass of wine and were about to begin speaking when a knock at the door stopped you.

“Give me one second, I wasn’t expecting anyone else,” Nakia said to you as she got off of the couch to answer the door. You watched as she opened it, curious as to who would be coming by her wing of the palace this early in the morning.

Nakia was greeted by Okoye standing at her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and orange juice in the other. Okoye looked over to you on the couch and back to Nakia, noticing that you both already seemed occupied in mimosas and probably conversation.

“Oh,” Okoye started. “I wanted to drop this off but I can see you are busy. We can reconvene later.”

“No wait!” You hadn’t gotten the chance to speak to Okoye yet and the energy between you two was still off. “I was going to tell Nakia about the night that I left, I would like you to hear too. Please.”

Nakia grabbed Okoye’s arm and pulled her inside the room, shutting the door behind her, effectively making the choice for Okoye. They made a pit stop in the kitchen to get an extra champagne flute before plopping down on the couch across from you, ready to finally hear what happened.

GEN Taglist: @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright

BTB Taglist: @sailorsolar12 @honey-teaaaaaaaa @ghostlyboiii @itsmaniii @shuriri4life

[ocean--grey]

Day 16: Future

Word count: ~750

“D’you think you’ll ever do it?”

“… Do what?”

Lister gestured at the expanse in front of him with a sweeping motion. “Y’know. Go out in space. Get off Earth, have a few weeks out on Mimas, or Titan, or whatever. Just explore.”

Lise pursed her lips then grinned from where she laid next to him, and gazed up at the night sky herself.

It wasn’t like either of them could see any stars. There were few places where that was possible, nowadays. Maybe some of the most secluded spots of Earth’s surface, far from the sprawling cities. Any part of the sky within a hundred miles (at least) of Liverpool was no doubt a hazy orange-grey, even on the clearest of nights. It’d been like that for decades at that point.

Lister only had one very, very faint memory of seeing the night sky, unimpeded by the glare of Liverpool’s light. It must have been when he was four, maybe five, when his Gran’d taken him to visit some old friend of hers. He remembered watching as the haze of the city gave away to dark grey, then black, then to pinpricks of light splattered like drops of paint across some great aerial canvas.

The night sky above him now? Well, it was frankly boring in comparison.

Dragging his eyes away from the muddy orange of the sky, he turned to Lise, who’d picked up their conversation again.

“Hm. I’ve always kind of wanted to go Callisto myself.” She shrugged at his raised eyebrows and continued, “Heard they’ve got a great music scene up there. Maybe Ganymede. I can’t really see myself going further than Jupiter, to be honest.” She shivered slightly, drawing her coat further around her. “Where d’you want to go?”

Lister stretched him back as he unfolded one of his arms from behind his head. Reaching out, he draped it on the ground behind Lise’s shoulders so she could lay back on it. She muttered a quick “thanks, love” and nestled her hair into his neck.

“Dunno where I’d go really. Probably only go as far as the Moon before getting homesick. I know they say Earth looks better looking in on it from space, but honestly nothing beats actually living here for me.”

Lise’s hair bumped against his cheek once, twice, then three times, as she mulled it over.

“Okay. Yeah, I get that. So… where would you go, then? If you don’t leave Earth, that is.”

He felt Lise turn to him slightly, body still facing the sky but with her nose resting on his cheek. He could feel her breath across the side of his neck, could see her eyes tracing his features. All of a sudden he felt exposed, open, laid bare for her to analyse every atom of his soul.

“Honestly?”

“Of course. I won’t judge you – too harshly, at least. I promise”, Lise grinned. She reached up and squeezed his hand with her own.

“Fiji.”

“…Huh.”

“Or – or, I’d stay here. ’n Liverpool. Just makes sense, to be honest. I’ve lived here all my life, right? I know it as well – actually maybe even more – than the back of my hand. It jus’ makes sense to me, I guess, to stay here.”

“Why Fiji, then?” Lise squeezed his hand again, possibly reassuringly, her grin falling into an equally amused smile. “Seems a long way from here, even if it isn’t as far as Jupiter or anything.”

“Land’s cheap there. I could, I dunno, build a house there. Make a farm, something like that.”

“Isn’t Fiji partially underwater? I guess you could have a fish farm or something, though.”

Lister sighed. “Dumb pipe dream, I know. I guess there I’ll be able to see some stars, at least.”

“But you’ll still be on Earth.”

“Yep, that’s the plan.”

Lise reached over and traced Lister’s jaw with her index finger, kissed his cheek. “Guess you wouldn’t make a good astro, if you think you’d get Earth-sick that bad.”

“God no,” Lister shuddered, “sounds like an awful job. Stranded in the void for months on end in a small tin can? Barely touching ground except for a few days each time? I don’t know why anyone’d willingly do that.”

“Guess it’s cheaper than travelling the commercial routes. I’ve also heard it pays well.”

“Not in a million years! Except if I was previously stranded on Io or something. Apparently there’s nothing it really offers except for a bunch of active volcanoes.”

“Well,” Lise kissed her cheek again, “at least you’re not anywhere but on Earth right now”.

[silverwarewolf]

hello hi, I will do my best to answer your advice ask tomorrow :3 for now, I offer an ask to you, requesting advice from any oc who cares to listen! (also sorry it's a few paragraphs, Ari loves to ramble and so do I haha)

“Hi! I don’t believe we’ve met before. Name’s Ari. If I could trouble you for some advice on a bit of a... delicate matter I’d be grateful.

So, I run this little diner out in Port Pirie, and there’s this one regular I’ll leave unnamed. Been coming in every couple of weeks for, ah, I think about four years now? Always orders a bunch of honey chili pork noodle stir fry and spring rolls. Quiet fellow, but we’ve become pretty friendly with each other over the years.

The situation all came to a head a couple of months ago. This rather unsavoury ex of my daughter’s had gotten a bit aggressive and stalky after they broke up, making threats on her and the rest of the family, accusing me in particular of forcing my kid to break things off... I did no such thing, mind you, the guy’s just a possessive dickhead. he comes into the diner near closing one night when it’s just me and my regular sharing some wine and a chat, shouting about making me pay and brandishing a knife in my face.

Anyway, turns out my favourite regular is a vampire, ‘cause it just sort of... tackles this guy and drinks his blood. I don’t think it meant to, I honestly think it just meant to disarm him, ‘cause it seemed completely mortified afterwards. Kept insisting it wasn’t going to hurt me and that it was very sorry for the mess and for making me see that. Then it just bolted and hasn’t come back for months.

Thing is, after some time to mull it all over, I don’t really have a problem with the whole vampire thing. I miss my friend, but given how skittish and private it was even when I thought it was human, it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s way too nervous to venture back here now. Nonetheless, I’ve been trying to think of ways to lure it back to the diner and make sure it knows its welcome, but I’m coming up empty. I’d appreciate any suggestions you can give!”

Hello there, Ari.

It seems like you've got yourself in quite the predicament, yes. Although I do quite commend your friend on protecting you, your honor, and by extension your daughter as well. A monster after my own heart, unafraid of staining ourselves to defend those we care for. And I would know its burden after the fact just so.

However, when I'm asked about luring someone, that usually refers to bounties I've to kill. That's not what you need here, is it?

Hmm... what to do...

Well, the basics of luring remain the same - you ought to offer something that it wants, or cannot go without. Perhaps these "honey chili noodle pork stiry fry and spring rolls" you speak of are the heart of the matter - perhaps offer a sale or some sort of event? I doubt you could just place a bowl of it and wait for its vampire senses to pick it up, at any rate. Nor do I know the extent of said vampire senses - I would certainly be able to notice something like that, and coming from a trusted enough friend, I may just decide to bite.

But that would merely be a lure, and I do not think that's all of the issue here.

It fears not being accepted, likeliest.

In my experience, only two types of people approach me. Those who need something done, and those who hold no fear of the other.

Should you attempt the first option, perhaps pretend to be in need of hiring a guard of sorts? Although I cannot say I've ever heard of guards who swear to protect food stalls and food stalls only, other than the time I was made to guard Her Insufferable Majesty's entourage. Your friend might be worried enough to check up on you.

As for the second... I assume you've no way of contacting it? Through friends or acquaintances of it? If you do, that's the way to go. If not, then these truly are dire times.

Hm...

I've been informed that your kind has a yearly celebration where you mimic beast and monster and folktale at will. If you can set up something like that, a "vampires welcome" sign would be undetected to the untrained eye but a blatantly welcoming sign to your friend. But that's merely an odd musing of mine.

Ah, hunting a meal and hunting a bounty are tough, but ultimately simple. Hunting friendship, however, although demanding less physical exertion prove tenfold as taxing. I wish you luck, Ari.

-Alexandro

[leannan-sithe]

I’m wondering where I can learn about like, godspouse courtship processes, marriage rituals, what might be required of each sides in a marriage/relationship, etcetera. Details like that. I get its individual to each Deity or spirit/entity and each relationship, but like, I’m trying to find specific examples.

To be clear, I get that this is a very personal thing, I don’t blame the sources I’ve found for not going in depth. I’m not currently trying to get into a relationship with a Deity or other entity, and I don’t think I’m receiving interest. I just keep getting fixated on this. For some reason I keep ending up down rabbit holes searching, wanting concrete examples, as if I do have a relationship to figure out, even though I don’t. Sorry, if that’s weird. I was just wondering if you had resources that could help.

Yeah! I understand the drive to learn more. If you ever find yourself wanting to engage with the practice with a specific entity, send me a DM and we'll chat.

(You can also DM me to talk in general, I don't mind that, and I don't post callout posts unless it's like the person who dated the ghosts of serial killers and was super racist. Community-level threats get @'d, not randoms with opinions I don't agree with.)

I hate to be the bearer of bad news but there aren't godspouse courting processes or specific rituals, nor are there requirements. I can give specific examples (and I will) but there's not... anything set in stone. Sorry.

I'm going to fictionalize and slightly dramatize some stories of people I know, with changed names and details.

You worshipped Cernunnos for years, getting into the practice because they reminded you of your childhood fascination with the woods and wilderness and learning about how to build shelters and traps and stuff. It started when you were 17 and were a "baby pagan," just learning about how worship and spirituality might look to you. You grew up in a Christian household, so you just don't know what to think or do. You make a habit of talking at Cernunnos over time, then when you get into spirit work, you start to get communication back (in signs, divination, dreams, etc). You joke and laugh and do things with Cernunnos, having fun with your godly buddy. One day, you're chatting with a friend who brings up godspousing, talking about specific things like dating or flirting. You make a joke about how "if that's godspousing, then you've been godspousing for at least a year." Your friend internet-looks at you blankly. Oh, shit. You've been doing godspousing for at least a year. The next divination you do is effectively a smug look from Cernunnos and a request for a "real date". Have you been dense enough to not notice they were FLIRTING flirting with you?

You're a Hellenic polytheist and you have a broad group of deities you work with in various capacities. You're fond of Hera and Aphrodite in particular, but you leave out offerings and whatnot when you want to appreciate the other deities. Or ask for their help in matters. You've been doing this for 10 years, it seems like. Since you were a preteen, and now you're an adult. You've been seeing a lot of things lately, the same sort of symbols. Lets say it's a specific fruit or color. That symbol has been popping up everywhere. What's going on? You mull on it for a few months until someone gifts you one of those fruits out of nowhere. Confused, befuddled, you leave the fruit on your altar for Hera to have. Over the next week you get these feelings that something is wrong, and you ask a friend to do divination for you -- your cards aren't doing shit for answers. The friend says there's a goddess that wants your attention. What? The friend also says that Hera is annoyed at you. You spend the next week pulling cards, looking into mirrors, analyzing your dreams before realizing she didn't like something on the altar. The fruit, maybe? The mystery goddess comes to mind randomly. You look the fruit up and-- of course it's Persephone, why wouldn't it be Persephone. You spend the next two years adding her to your roster of godly friends, until she starts dropping signs in your lap like mad. Daily, even. It takes another 6 months to figure out that she wants to *date* you. What. Why. How. You're wracked with worry about hubris and guilt, before you finally give in and join a godspousing group at your friend's recommendation. It takes you another 3 months to actually ask Persephone on a date. You do dates, shift her to central in your worship schedule, and.... just in case, you double check with Hades via divination that it's cool. (It is. He gives his blessing.) After a year of dating her, you start getting ring imagery everywhere. Repeatedly. She's proposing. You panic for another few months before writing out marriage oaths -- no one in the GSing community ever gives their vows/oaths verbiage in full as examples to others, it's a personal, sometimes sacred thing that we're all a little embarrassed about, you just gotta wing it -- and while you're practicing, Persephone pops in your mind and says "I do". Wait, no, that was. That wasn't the real one. She sends you mental images of putting rings on fingers. You spend a few weeks discussing it with her (and panicking) because you don't quite understand if it was legitimate or not, and it hurts your feelings a little that she just did it while you were practicing, but you come to the decision that you actually do like the idea of being formally married to her. So you decide it's the for real one.

You're in your early twenties, you decide your life is a bit boring so you decide to get into divination, specifically tarot. One of your dumbass woowoo friends you had a crush on was into them, and you kind of liked the art. In learning about tarot, you learn about witchcraft and crystals and stuff. Okay, sure. You'll do that. In a year, you're googling plant correspondences on tumblr whenever you cook a recipe. You always make your coffee with intention. But it still doesn't feel fine? Something was missing. You get into the wiccan side of tumblr witchcraft, and start adding deities into your lineup, making altars and worshipping any one of them that strikes your fancy. It costs a bit of money but it's worth feeling like you're doing something right. Eventually that gets boring for you and you sort of move on to other things. A few years later you get back into the woowoo stuff, and start thinking about the deities again. You feel a little guilty but don't get any closure about those worship relationships. It feels awkward. You swerve back into divination, choosing to pick up runes instead. You learn about how Odin is weird and masculine and can be evil. Whatever, you just want the runes. A few months in, someone questions an offhand remark you make about Odin being bad. You get corrected, learn a bit more about him, and... he sounds cool? You've known about the concept of godspousing for a while now, but you're a little leery about the whole worship thing, especially since it didn't work out last time. You approach Odin but you're CLEAR you don't want a relationship like a godspouse. You work with him for a few months. He shows up in your dreams as a variety of characters, you start to associate him with certain tv shows and watch those to bond. You started out fearing him a bit and worshipping him in a very rigid way, designing your own prayers and protocols, but now he's just the weird dude that watches Warehouse 13 with you and calls dibs on half your nachos when you make them. (You eat them anyways.) Eventually, you have a dream in which he kisses you. Um. Okay. No. You ignore it. You don't say anything to him, you just pretend it never happened. It happens again. This time, you sit down and have a conversation. You weren't interested in dating him. He's interested in dating you. ....... Well, maybe you're interested in dating him now. After all, he's not the terrifying figure you thought he was. You set a date in 6 months upon which you'll give him an answer, and tell him you expect him to behave until then and any misbehavior means you're booting him out of your life. He does behave, but another of your gods has to kick him in the ass for toeing the line. In 6 months, you tell him that you can date, and you set a bunch of rules out. No showing me imagery of the ocean or deep water, you have a phobia. No bothering me at work. Don't send me sexual stuff unless I ask for it. He reluctantly follows through but he does have to be reminded. Eventually, you dating Odin is just. The thing that you're doing. You don't really want to label it. It gives you some amazing sex dreams and weird fantasies that you're embarrassed about, but there's a lot of people who think about Odin that way online, yeah?

I genuinely don't know what information I can give you, but again, feel free to DM. Hope these were entertaining at least.

[daydream-cement]

Heavenly Aether Ch. 3

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Miranda is able to learn more about The Church of Mithras and comes to see the true depth of police corruption.

Thank you to @bri-sonat for being my beta buddy <3

TW: cults, suicide, death, corruption, brief descriptions of violence

February 6th, 2023

“Take a seat, please...” You pass the armchair placed before your desk, gesturing for the blonde to take a seat. 

Miranda quickly dropped into the chair, shifting to sit on the edge of the cushion. Her posture was pulled taut, and you could feel the energy radiating off of her. Little did you know that the constable was overflowing with pride, beyond excited for the potential of being a step closer to breaking the case. 

“Please tell me everything you know. Start wherever you would like.” Miranda rested her hands on her knees, earnestly leaning forward, trying to display her gratitude for you taking the time to talk with her. Rather than pulling out her notebook, Miranda was opting to take mental notes, wishing to be present in the moment with the information you had to offer. 

You settle down into your desk chair once more, releasing a small sigh, trying to shake the annoyance of still being in the office this late into the evening. Pausing for a moment, you are unsure of where to start, no one had ever wanted to hear the full story before. 

“Well... I’ve traced the roots of the church back to January of ‘95. At first, it just seemed to be an elite social group of sorts. One percenter’s, more specifically, the one percenter’s children. For the most part, the organization was quiet until that first mass death.” With the press of a button, you turned on your computer once again. As you wait for the computer to boot up, you lean back in your desk chair, mulling over even the most minute of details. “They were operating out of a commercial outlet in Tamarama. It’s hard to find all the documentation, but from what I could find, they would have been needing to pull in at least $50k a month to keep the lights on.”

Miranda’s mind was reeling from the very baseline information you offered her. As the future detective Miranda was, her mind was already attempting to connect the dots, “Who is leading it all? Must be someone elite from Tamarama, don’t you think?” 

“I know plenty about the church, but I don’t know who is leading it all. Whoever it is, they stay shrouded in the darkness. Even the few followers I’ve spoken to say they have never seen his face. My guess is the leader is independently wealthy, has a powerful parent, or is leaching from someone else... Could be a mix...” You gave a shrug, wishing you had more information on the hierarchy of it all. 

“Hmm...” The constable paused, visibly vexed by the lack of information you provided her with. Rather than dwelling on it, however, she chose to move onward, “What does the church worship? Is it connected to one of the larger global religions?” 

“It’s not my best journalism, but they keep a tight lid on their religious texts and documents. If I trace back the names and dates of the killings, it all leads back to the Cult of Mithras. It was a Roman mystery religion centered on the god Mithras with connections to astrology.” Your voice became hushed, nervous to admit the following pieces of evidence as you hadn’t revealed them to anyone prior, “From the members I interviewed, there seems to be an absurd amount of symbolism and Gods, but they use those components to justify harming their followers.”

“And what are those symbols and icons?” Miranda probed deeper, her hands shifting away from her knees so her elbows could rest on the edge of your desk. The constable was no doubtably enthralled by the case at hand, never had she worked on a case that was so undoubtedly messy. 

The question made you hold your breath, knowing the answer was longer and more arduous than Miranda anticipated. Turning your attention to your computer monitor, you swiftly log into the system, pull the flash drive from around your neck, and plug in the USB. If you were going to thoroughly answer her questions, you would need some of your own notes. 

With a few clicks, you found your notes, giving the constable a sympathetic glance before starting to go through the thorough research you had completed on each of the church’s iconography. From time to time, you would glance up at Miranda as you read off the document, and each time you did, she was completely engaged, eyes trained on your face. 

It took nearly a half hour to work through the belief system of the cult, all of which you found to be trivial information. In your personal opinion, the church seemed to adopt a surface-level complexity that was only motivated by greed at the end of the day. All of the rituals had a price to attend and a price to take part in, but if you opted out, there were consequences for not being as dedicated as your peers. 

You saved the most important God for last, knowing it was responsible for the more unethical and criminal portions of the case, “Moreover, they recognize an icon named Cautes which appears to be in connection with the Roman god Caelus and the Greek god Uranus. This is huge. Each of the dates of the mass deaths matches up with Uranus entering different zodiacs.”

Miranda’s brow furrowed, a wave of righteous anger overtaking her, “So we know when each of these is happening? How long have you known about the dates of the mass deaths?”

You made eye contact with the constable, the weariness and disappointment from the years of witnessing constant police corruption evident in your eyes, “I’ve known since the 90s. Nothing has been done so far.”

“No. No. That can’t be. This... this could have all been prevented?” From Miranda’s facial expressions, you felt as though she was going through the seven stages of grief. She was well aware of the systematic flaws built into the career she had chosen, but some cases of corruption were hard for the blonde to comprehend.

“Yeah.”

Miranda sat in silence for a long moment. She was searching her index of superintendents and leaders within the department that could be responsible for such an oversight. The name at the top of her list was her direct supervisor: Adrian Butler. 

You interrupted her thoughts with a question of your own, “How do you expect to solve this case when there is so much obvious police corruption?”

“I- I don’t know…”

The next few hours fly by and before you know it, the lights in the main office space turned on: the night janitors were in. It must be about 11 pm. 

Miranda had covered your office wall in sticky notes and taped notecards as it was her way of visualizing the case at hand. Now she sat before her creation, having turned her chair away from your desk towards the webbing expanse of clues. She was entirely slouched down into the chair, her butt was nearly off the seat and her arms were folded over her chest. Her face was scrunched up in an intense level of focus, and if you weren’t mistaken, she looked kinda… cute.

“We have a bit of a hierarchy created. Like you said, we have the head ‘guy’ or whatever, then we have these two public relations people, Marco and Penny Penfield, and the next level is temporary, you get that job and you die.” Miranda raised an arm, finger pointing out the different levels within the church, ending with the rotating group of five individuals that were akin to middle managers.

Miranda had pinned a list of names beneath the final level of the hierarchy. This list contained all of the people who have died, and one additional name: one of the current low-level functionaries that was fated to die in 30 days. 

Before the last grouping of church members had died, you had been able to interview one of them: Andrew Slosser. It was four days before November 6, 2018, and you had caught Andrew as he was walking to his car from the church. In his efforts to blow you off, he gave a blustering and angry spiel, inadvertently revealing the last name of the person who would be taking his place: Alexandra Terion. 

“We need to talk to her. We get her to talk to us about what’s happening and maybe we can figure out how to contact those two.” Miranda's hand was gesturing about to the different people, outlining a plan for herself. You glanced down at the constable’s face and saw how heavy her lids were; this was far later than she had stayed up in a long time. 

“Perhaps we should call it a night, constable?”

“Do you have time to talk more about this tomorrow? I’d like for my partner to hear some of this directly from you.” She sleepily turned her head, glancing up at you with the softest eyes. 

Your breath caught for a moment before you turned away, unsure of why the policewoman had made you feel warm and tingly inside. Turning your attention to the calendar on your desk, you had a couple of meetings in the morning and another in the early afternoon, “The earliest I can do is 3 pm.”

Without hesitation, Miranda nodded, confirming the meeting, “We will be there.”

You gathered your belongings once more and locked up your office, repeating the same steps as you had earlier that afternoon. Both you and Miranda made your way down to the first floor and out the front doors in relative silence. 

Miranda veered to the left when you continued straight, but she stopped in her tracks when she realized your cars were in opposite directions. She jogged back to your side, falling into stride with you, “Let me walk you to your car.”

“No, you really don’t ha-” You began to argue, but Miranda only cut you off.

“Please. I’d like to walk you to your car. I want to see you get home safe.” Miranda was adamant, showing no signs of wavering from your side as you led her toward the parking garage. 

You kept your face forward, hoping the constable couldn’t see your growing smile as you passed under the city street lights, “I- Okay...”

----

“Drop it!” Adrian ordered, his scowl growing deeper and angrier as Constable Hilmarson continued her aggressive offense of how they should put more resources into following the case of The Church of Mithras. 

Miranda was quick and uninhibited with her retort, the blonde’s face growing redder as she continued arguing, “Stop avoiding the question! Why are you preventing us from pursuing this?”

“I said drop it, Hilmarson!” Adrian stood from his desk, leaning in towards Miranda as an unconscious intimidation tactic. 

Miranda turned away from Adrian, pacing slightly as she raked a hand through her hair out of pure frustration. The constable’s voice was growing in volume, her rage was becoming more unbridled, “Adrian! You know this is-”

Detective Butler was only partially lying. He knew the case wasn’t to be pursued, but he had never been given a real reason for shelving the case (other than his career being at stake), “I don’t know anything, Miranda. Now drop it before I put you on desk duty for the next month.”

Miranda went silent, but her glare was louder than words could ever be. 

“Promise me you will drop this, Hilmarson.” Adrian was pleading with his ex, knowing trouble would only come if she were to pursue this. 

The constable hesitated for a moment. She hated lying to anyone, but this was an instance where her sense of righteous justice was far greater than her duty to her boss, “Yes. I’ll drop it.”

Adrian shook his head with a sigh, gesturing to his office door for Miranda to leave. The constable could be the most stubborn person in the world, not often dropping things when she was ordered to. Against his better judgment, Adrian trusted the blonde as she strode from his office.

Miranda moved past her desk and headed towards her usual spot out in the parking garage so she could smoke a cigarette and mull over the fact Adrian was obviously hiding something. 

Once Miranda was in the parking garage, she assumed her normal position, allowing her back to hit the wall before she slid down to sit on the concrete floor. She paused for a brief moment, listening to see if anyone had followed her or was lingering in the garage. When a soundless garage reverberated back to Miranda, she pulled out her phone and dialed your number.

When your phone buzzed and you glanced down to see Miranda’s contact (she had offered you her number as she stood outside your car), you moved a little too quickly to answer the call, pushing the phone up to your ear when you accepted it, “Hello? Miranda?”

“Care to grab lunch?”

[jon-snows-man-bun]

By Turns

Chapter Three

Masterlist

The closer Eris gets to his goals the harder he has to work to keep all plates spinning. Tensions simmer underneath his new alliances, pulling him into the Hewn City where the impact of Rhysand’s rule shapes the future.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x OC. Other pairings to be added.

Other featured characters: Elain Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Azriel. Variable POV

Rating: E for Explicit. Minors DNI.

Warnings: misogyny, violence, torture and domestic abuse both on and off screen, sex, sexual violence, dubious consent, drug use, character death, no reliable narrators to be found. Further warnings to be added.

Find this fic on AO3

A/N: Brief mention of suicide for dramatic emphasis in the first half of the chapter. Skip beyond the jump if it bothers you.

“Keir is up to something,” Rhysand said.

Azriel was sat in Rhys’ office in the River House. The male was behind his desk, fingers steepled as he examined income reports and taxation records from Keir, mouth firm and tight in a way that suggested he was more vexed than he was letting on.

Azriel had to agree. He was still mulling over his visit from the month previous, the way the fae had looked at him with such belligerence, embracing the pain and death coming to him in that abattoir. The way the blood matted into his blonde hair. Seeing Eris the next morning, his casual cruelty and Thanatos’ snipped question. Here to execute another one of my soldiers?

Azriel was spread thin as it was, monitoring Illyrian dissent, Tamlin in Spring, Beron in Autumn, and keeping an eye on things on the Continent with Mor. Maybe one day they’d have fewer enemies, he thought, then immediately realised he’d be out of a job in that case. Probably kill himself from the boredom too, beg Rhys on his knees to let him fight the Blood Duel just for something to do, some violence to sate him.

“He’s always up to something,” Azriel said, more as a deflection from that train of thought than anything else.

“These taxes…” Rhys mused, so focused that he wasn’t taking the bait. “Something is off. And that fae last month. Did you ever manage to find out if he was just an outlier?”

Azriel shook his head, shadows slinking up his legs, hiding him from his failure. “Not yet. I’ve reached back out to my spy. I don’t have many more shadows to spare.”

Spy - a generous word for what Oisin was, which was a male so desperate to escape the Court of Nightmares that he’d been willing to sell information for the chance.

Azriel didn’t say what he was thinking, which was that if they truly wanted to keep control over the Hewn City, they needed someone down there full time. On paper it was Mor, but in all of her years and battles, she’d never been able to conquer the way her family - and Eris - made her feel. The next most capable choice was Nesta, but Cassian would bludgeon them to death for even thinking it. Rhys didn’t want to condemn anyone to living there anyways, despite the way he had laughed at Mor’s suggestion to move Nesta there a few years ago.

In the deepest recesses of his mind, Azriel also knew the Hewn City would never accept a female. Rhysand had named Feyre his High Lady there and placed her on his throne while they knelt, but just like that fae he had tortured, he could see the barely concealed rage in them, the play-pretend bowing. He suspected Rhys knew it too, which was why he never made Feyre go down there if she didn’t want to, and never on her own. That power struggle - if it ever came to pass - would be ugly.

“And now fucking Vanserra sticking his nose in as well…” A muscle feathered in Rhys’ jaw. He tossed his pen onto his desk, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling in frustration.

“Give me a week,” he groaned. “I’ll dig into these, then let’s go back, rattle their cage a bit. Remind them we exist and they answer to me. Let’s have a meeting with Eris as well, see if we can discover his angle in this mess.”

———————

Eris had worn a groove in her thoughts. Her encounter with him had shocked her - the heat of his fingers and his mouth, the brush of his lips against her palm, the blazing, naked hunger in his eyes. He was dangerously beautiful, and predatory. The arrogance with which he grabbed her wrist, as if he could touch her as he pleased, still sent furious sparks of embarrassment through her when she thought of it. He had grabbed her like she was already his and it was inevitable, and the way he had scented her….

She had no interest in being a lordling’s amusement, no matter how much she wanted to bathe in the vitality and power of him, as if it could rub off on her. The heat of his skin has certainly seared into her, even as she hastened from the room. Even now, she thought she could feel the phantom trace of his lips, and wondered absently if she licked his skin whether it would taste of the outside.

Aisling squashed those thoughts before they carried her much further. Everyone knew his reputation for cruelty, the rumours of how he had spurned Lord Keir’s daughter rather than marry a female who was not a maiden. Perhaps he was merely bored, or wanted to bed a City female to return the dishonour, a game of cruelty by turns. She had no desire to find out which rumours were true and which were false, and she didn’t want the attention of being tupped then cast aside by the Autumn heir.

They had aught else to do but gossip in here; already, speaking with him for a scant moment was more noticeable than she wanted. She’d far rather slink by quietly, working on a way to get herself and her mother out. But no matter which way she span it, which course of action she thought through, she ran up against the hard truth that only the High Lord could release fae from the City.

Perhaps she could bargain her magic, her dream-weaving… but the High Lord was a daemati, so would have no need of it. He hated them all, anyways; far more advantageous for him to keep them trapped here. Aisling twirled her ribbon bookmark in her hand idly, halfway through her book, suddenly irritable and contemplative.

A knock on the door jolted her from her mood. Maeve, the maidservant, opened it with a ducked head.

“Lord Vanserra for you, my lady,” she said, departing. Aisling bolted up as Eris entered, suddenly panicked. In her home?

“My lord,” she stammered, dropping to a curtsy quickly to gather herself. She bloomed with anxiety. “This is ah, unexpected….”

And there Eris was, filling the drawing room with the force of his presence. He was taller than her, lean and corded with muscle, but she felt the weight of his magic like it was smoke slowly stealing all air from her. Her chest tightened in anxiety, even though he waited politely for her to sit before taking a seat on the sofa opposite her. Any monster could have manners; acting a gentleman meant nothing, not here.

He was a metre away from her, perhaps. His hair was so vibrant, even though the room was richly furnished. It was just him.

“I had a meeting with Rhysand about the trade agreement,” Eris remarked casually, as if she was ever privy to anything. As if this was a normal occurrence. Her anger and fear coiled together in her stomach like snakes. “I thought I would make a call on you afterwards.”

“You are very kind to do so, my lord,” Aisling said politely, hoping her anxiety wasn’t transmitted. By the way he watched her, as if she were a dinner time amusement, she guessed they were. She forced herself to still.

“Perhaps I desired to know your thoughts on the matter?” Eris suggested, failing to sound genuine. He looked entirely at ease in her drawing room, long arms flung across the back of the couch like it was his own.

“No male desires to hear a female’s thoughts,” Aisling snapped. She inwardly kicked herself for letting her moods rule her tongue, but Eris seemed amused. His amber eyes glinted dangerously, the fire throwing the angled planes of his face into sharp relief. She couldn’t stop looking at the line of his shoulders, the muscles corded down them; he lounged like an arrogant king.

“Maybe not the males in Night,” he said, voice losing its indolent, amused tone and taking on an edge. “Indulge me,” he bid her, as if she were a servant.

Aisling gave him her most insipid smile. “Lord Keir is clever and leads us well in all matters,” she said vacuously.

Eris’ eyes flashed.

“I’m sure,” He said lowly. Maeve came in with a tray, quietly pouring tea, but he didn’t react, didn’t break eye contact. Aisling didn’t say a word, waiting until the door had been shut behind the servant on her way out. The walls would listen, here. No space was safe.

“Why do you wish for my thoughts, my lord? You must have plenty of your own,” Aisling said, keeping her eyes cast down as she carefully lifted her teacup. He made her so nervous, so edgy; he took up all available air in the room and left her short of breath. Her chest ached at his closeness, the intensity of him.

“Perhaps yours are more interesting,” he said. “I rarely get to speak to any from Night who aren’t one of Rhysand’s bleating sheep. You’re all very mysterious here.”

When she didn’t answer, seeing no clear safe path, he nodded to the book on the side table. A tome on taxation history, thick as a brick.

“I wasn’t aware Night liked their females well versed in anything but pleasing males and marriage,” he drawled, needling her.

“They don’t, the book is for decoration,” Aisling replied, ignoring that the book had been propped open before her. A lie so transparent that Eris’ mouth twitched up. She needed him out of her house, did he not realise how much he put her at risk by being here, saying these things? The thought that he realised but just didn’t care made her stomach twist. What game was he playing?

She hated that she found Eris so lovely, that his scent of cedar and smoke and outside filling the room was driving her to distraction. He smelled fresh and alive, and he looked so vibrant, so out of place in her home. He was too bright to be down here, too wild and fierce; she didn’t believe he was here of any good intentions.

Eris clearly wanted information, was fishing for something. Or perhaps he just wanted to make a statement to someone watching. Aisling doubted anyone would be watching her, but they would surely be watching him - her stomach twisted in anxiety. She had to get him out. Give him something, get him gone. Something that wouldn’t catch up with her later.

“Any room with you in it needs no more decoration. Surely your beauty is enough,” Eris said smoothly, a flattery so slick it set Aisling’s teeth on edge. Empty words, to get her talking.

“One always needs more beauty around them,” Aisling murmured demurely in response, the proper display of coy dismissal in the face of a compliment. Lest she be seen as wanton, too vain, too accepting of male attention. How absurd that those were the worst things she could be considered to be, Aisling thought fleetingly, when she was so many other vile things, too.

“And more diamonds?” Eris pressed, leaning forward on his knees. He never stopped watching her, and she cast her mind about for a way to make him go.

“I rather have plenty,” Aisling said, toying with one of her rings. They piled gems on in the Hewn City, did they not elsewhere? Here gemstones were almost blasé; diamonds and onyx and moonstone were considered loyalist. Likewise to raven and dove feathers in hair combs, the colours of the Court. Pearls were currently fashionable and sought after, having to be imported at great cost from Summer. She touched her own feather comb absent-mindedly, a nervous habit her mother had tried to beat out of her, but when she was uncomfortable she often resorted to toying with her hair or her rings.

“And too many books, besides,” she added, picking up the tome carefully. “Perhaps you should have this one. I’m afraid it is far too dense for me to ever read, but for yourself…”

Eris watched her closely as she paged through the book quickly, selecting a chapter. She laid a velvet ribbon in it as a bookmark, then carefully handed it to him. His hands brushed hers as he took it.

“You are very generous,” he murmured, eyes meeting hers. She held her face still under his scrutiny, wishing he would leave, wishing they could speak plainly. His eyes burned as he held hers, brilliant and amber and lit by his magic.

She would happily bargain all of her wealth to say what she thought, to hear his thoughts in turn, to be truly alone. To demand what he wanted of her and hear a true reply. Did she desire Eris? Or merely the freedom to desire him? Their gaze broke as Maeve knocked on the door, sweeping it open to take the tea tray. The book vanished from Eris’ hands quickly. He rose, nodding to Aisling, she stood to curtsy in turn.

“I thank you for your hospitality, Lady Aisling,” he said, as if he hadn’t arrived at her home unexpectedly, imposing himself upon her. She bit her tongue at that, cooing her thanks at him, careful to not invite him back. Maeve was listening as she cleared the tray, escorting Eris out.

Once the room was empty, nothing remaining of Eris but the lingering smell of crisp air, the familiar sensation of despair and anger swallowed her whole. Aisling collapsed back into the sofa, pressing her hand to her mouth, willing herself back into stone. Her skin still smelled faintly of his, and she breathed it in until it was gone, her chest aching under the strain of keeping herself contained.

———————

A/N: Keir can have a little tax fraud, as a treat

[stylesloveclub]

KARMA (tattoorry sneak peek!)

+++

It’s a quiet night at the tattoo shop, which Harry is thankful for.

There’d been a few appointments earlier in the day, larger pieces that people had scheduled months in advance because they took a lot of consultations and took long chunks of time to tattoo – but there had barely been any walk-ins. It’s a Thursday night, so of course his business isn’t bustling the way it would be on a Saturday.

Harry decides to start cleaning up – if he’s lucky, nobody else would venture in before their closing time and he’d be able to get home a bit early. (His little cat is waiting for him at home!) He wipes down the tattoo chairs and puts away all the needles, sweeps the floors and turns off the lights in the staff room.

Someone stumbles in. It’s y/n.

Harry looks at her. She looks at him.

“Hello…” Harry says, his voice a little doubting, a little bit confused. Why was she back?

She stands in front of him nervously. “Um…” she’d stumbled into the tattoo shop with such confidence, but finds herself suddenly nervous and unable to speak under Harry’s intimidating gaze. “Hi.”

She won’t lie, she’s a little, teensy weensy bit drunk right now. She’d been at the bar across the street with a couple of her girlfriends, just hanging out and having fun, when she spilled to them about the hot tattoo artist who worked at the shop across the street.

She’s had plenty of fleeting crushes in her life, but none have been as quick and captivating as her crush on Harry. With his deep voice, green eyes, and tan skin, he’s cast some sort of spell on her. She’d been in his presence for what… a total of 45 minutes? And yet she can’t get him off her mind!

He was just… really hot! And he had that sexy, mysterious vibe to him… with all those tattoos and the rings and the black eyeliner… gosh he was straight out of some bad boy romance novel! If it weren’t for the fact that she’d been with her five-year old goddaughter when she met him for the first time, she’s sure she would’ve started acting up. He was just so attractive!

In her tipsy state, with her cheeks warm and a fuzzy feeling in her chest, she couldn’t help but rant to her friends about it. She’d met the hottest guy ever, and she’d never have the chance to see him again! It was tragic!

Well… it doesn’t have to be that way, her friends told her. What was stopping her from heading over to the tattoo shop right now?

No, she thought to herself. Going over to the tattoo shop, drunk, with absolutely nothing to say except Hi, I think you’re hot? She could never do that…

The strawberry vodka lemonade in her system said otherwise. That, along with all her friends who hyped her up to go visit her dreamy tattoo man, had somehow managed to convince her to venture across the street and make her move!

So now she’s in his tattoo shop, but she has absolutely no idea what to say or how to act.

“How can I help you?” he asks after a tense second of silence.

“Um…” she doesn’t really have a game plan, but she decides on the spot, “I want a piercing.”

“A piercing?” he clarifies. She nods. “Okay… where?”

She points to the shell of her ear. “You want a helix piercing?” he asks once more.

“Yeah,” she says confidently, accompanied by an eager nod of her head.

“Okay…” he mulls it over for a second. “Are you… y’know– like, in the right headspace to do this?” Something is telling him that she’s not completely sober, and he doesn’t want to do something that she’d regret.

“Yeah, yeah!” She brushes it off nonchalantly,  “I only had like, one drink! And I’ve been meaning to get a piercing, especially after I came in here with Lola.”

“If you say so…” He’s still a bit doubtful, but he supposes his slight suspicion isn’t enough of a reason to refuse service to her.

He brings her the paperwork on a clipboard and gets all his required equipment out as she fills it out. “Which do you want?” he asks her, pointing to the wide variety of helix piercing options displayed.

“Um…what do you recommend?” She’s normally much more prepared and would have done a bunch of research on what kind of jewelry would heal best or what type of metal was safest… but again, this decision was kind of made on a whim.

“I always tell clients to start off with a stud, and then if you want you can switch it out for a hoop once the piercing has healed.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” A pretty, butterfly shaped stud catches her eye. “Can I do that one, please?”

He nods. Grabbing his equipment, he decides that y/n is gonna be the last customer of the night, so he flips the sign on the front of the door to read closed, and leads her into the backroom, the same room where he’d pierced Lola’s ears.

With a pair of black gloves on his hands, he rips open the sanitizing pad and stands in front of y/n. She’s looking up at him with wide eyes, watching his every movement. Usually it makes Harry really uncomfortable when people stare at him while he’s doing their tattoo or giving a piercing, but with her… he doesn’t fully mind it.

The cool alcohol wipe feels refreshing against her ear, a striking contrast to how warm her face feels. Harry’s eyes are dark and stern as he focuses on his job, eyebrows furrowed seriously. His knuckle nudges her chin, angling her head in a way so he could clean the backs of her ears too.

With how close he’s standing to her, she can feel his breath against her cheek. She can’t help herself from staring at his pretty pink lips, how they pout as he marks the spot he wants to pierce.

He holds up a mirror for her. “Look good?”

She nods. She barely looks into the mirror and doesn’t overthink the placement of it at all. She somehow trusts Harry wholeheartedly.

He takes the needle out of its sterile packaging, and y/n eyes it nervously. “Do helix piercings… hurt a lot?” she asks with a timid voice. The sight of a needle coming towards her face has sobered her up quite a bit.

“Not necessarily.” He notices her nervous eyes, “They obviously hurt more than a lobe piercing, since it’s cartilage, but s’only like a pinch.”

She still looks frightened. “Can you, um– count?”

His eyes narrow slightly, and she feels like he’s judging her. But he agrees nonetheless. “Sure. Ready?”

+++

SNEAKY OF MY TATTOORRY FIC! :) POSTED NOW ON PATREON! 

[the-crimson]

I think something that I’ve been mulling over for the past few days is the difference between books/lore the admins want the players to find and books/lore the federation wants the players to find to misdirect them. Because obviously the admins want to provide players with information to help them figure things out but there are other times where it feels like the federation is planting information to mislead the islanders.

The main instance of this is Fred’s protected chest vs the books in his office. The chest itself isn’t what has me thinking - it’s the fact that the chest’s password is literally written down in a chest beside it.

My thoughts are this: if the admins wanted the players to get into the chest, they would just leave the chest without a password so they can crack it with code breakers or have a normal or disguised chest in a more hidden but accessible spot. But they didn’t. They added the password. Compared to the books in Fred’s office that the admins wanted them to find but were supposed to - in story - be safe.

Which either means Fred is incredibly incompetent or put the password intentionally so that the islanders could snoop. If it’s the latter (most likely) then nothing in the chest can be taken at face value because Fred wanted them to find it.

I seriously doubt Fred truly thinks bbh is innocent. We know he can lie and manipulate. He told Tubbo he didn’t know who Cucurucho was but previously he told Bbh that Cucurucho wasn’t a worker and was higher rank. Fred told Tubbo he was looking for the missing worker cuz of his boss and he told someone else (Fit or Philza?) that he’s looking because he cares about the workers.

Bbh is always checking the shack for information so it makes sense Fred would leave something to make bbh think Fred isn’t a threat. That Fred’s cleared him of suspicion on kidnapping Ron. This plus the entire month long enigma Cellbit went on makes me so skeptical of everything everyone finds.

Like the reports with Kameto. The federation wanted the players to find Kameto and knew they would tear the place apart looking for information. Why would they leave those reports unless they wanted the players to find them and become more malleable to federation manipulation?

I don’t even know where I’m going with this but I guess I’m just explaining why I think Fred’s chest and the French Reports are misdirects by the federation and shouldn’t be taken at face value. Figuring out which pieces of lore are federation planted (not to be trusted) vs admin planted is the tricky thing.

[gio-cosmo]

ooh, 14, 21 and 22?

Hiii ^^

14. Worst game you’ve ever played?

ooo this one’s tough…realistically, the worst game I’ve ever played is probably some low-budget knockoff wii game I played as a kid or something LMFAOO but I feel like that’s a predictable answer on my part. I feel like I’ve had pretty good luck with games I end up playing, I’m really picky so usually I just. Refuse to pick up a game at all if it doesn’t look interesting lmfaoo. I will say though….the two games I most regret purchasing are Fire Emblem Engage & Pokemon Scarlet 😭 they aren’t the worst games ever by any means but. They were both 60 bucks and I never play them. Very devastating for my measly bank account 😢 ALSO tbf I feel like the reason I dislike Fire Emblem Engage is bc I want another Fire Emblem game to kind of go along the same layout of Three Houses…not a direct copy obviously but Three Houses was just so good. It’s so good in fact that any time I play any other Fire Emblem game that ISN’T Three Houses I’m like….🫤 LMFAOO which I know isn’t a very good mindset for me to have and I should stop comparing them so heavily but…alas. BUT I suppose I can’t even really give Engage a proper rating since I haven’t finished it. Idk I just didn’t really care for the storyline or characters but that’s just me personally.

21. A game you thought you wouldn’t like, but ended up loving?

There’s actually quite a few where this has happened!! There’s been a plethora of games I’ve seen on Steam or in a store and I’ll look it over and be like “ehhh this really doesn’t look like my thing…but it has good ratings…and it’s under my recommended…” and then I’ll usually set it off to the side, and once I get really incredibly bored I’ll cave in and buy it just to give me something to do LMAOO. Needy Streamer Overload was one where I was very skeptic about at first, but I actually really ended up enjoying it (I especially love the soundtrack!) and also World of Horror! I remember seeing people say it was boring and the game mechanics looked so overwhelming so I put off buying it forever, but I finally got it a few weeks ago and it’s probably my fav horror game of all time now. I’m mentally kicking myself for avoiding it so avidly for so long! I don’t find it boring at all, I love games that are built to be replayed as many times as you want. It was funny though bc when I first started playing I was so confused..had me staring at the screen like ☹️ LMFAOO I WAS ACTUALLY BEFUDDLED. But after a few playthroughs it ends up being easy to understand which I am very thankful for. ALSO. Slay the Princess!! Another one I avoided for a while for..honestly idek why. But oh my GODDD I LOVE SLAY THE PRINCESS WOOO YAYYY 🎉 slay the princess honestly was such a crazy surreal experience idek how to describe it. It’s so awesome. It’s coming out on the Switch w a 200 dollar collectors addition thingy and oh my god. Bro. I am DEVASTATED at my lack of funds 😭😭 I actually have to put it out of my mind bc if I think abt it excessively I get really sad 💔 ANYWAYYYSS SHOUTOUT TO SLAY THE PRINCESS 🗣️🗣️ so wonderfully made, beautiful artwork, stunning music…omg. Also grotesque at times but in a way that’s just so fundamentally different and unique? If that makes sense? It’s all so meaningful and connected and they manage to express so many emotions throughout a playthrough. I’ve got every achievement and I’m so happy I gave it a shot :) OH. Also One Shot! One Shot is great…oh my goodness. Woaw. This is making me realize how overly skeptical I am about every game I ever purchase in the history of ever LMFAOO why am I so overly critical 💀 like why do I always have to mull it over for months smh 😭

22. Do you watch any other gamers?

As of right now, no. Not routinely, anyways. I used to be obsessed with watching YouTube game playthroughs as a kid, but I’m not really all that into it anymore. However! I will say that what got me into the Persona franchise back when I was a 5th grade child (?!?!??) is Kubz Scout’s playthrough of it on YouTube! I watched him tons as a kid (someone should’ve been monitoring my internet access for sure 💀) and I still watch some of his gaming videos every now and then. So. Shoutout to Kubz Scout’s for introducing me to my favorite game franchise everrr!! 🗣️🗣️ absolutely crazy that I was watching Persona playthroughs in elementary school though LMFAOO every time I think abt it I’m like … where were my parents at !! 😭