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emtb319 · 5 months ago

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For @tracybirds Happy Thunderpride!

‘Is it done John?’ Virgil didn’t regret making the call. It was this or a bigger headache with a lot more paperwork.

‘In about 30 seconds. I’m sure the entire island will hear it, just waiting for Alan to finish turnover. It’s the last thing I’ll do before I take off for home.’ John was double checking everything for his return trip home.

‘Ok, we’re ready down here. Who has the password?’

‘Gordon. As much as I love you Virgil, if he pushes you enough, you'll cave. On the other hand, Gordon will write it on a piece of paper, stick it to a fishing pole, and wave it in front of his face, just out of his reach.’ Virgil chuckled.

‘No offense taken John. I was just wondering who had it, just in case. I actually thought you’d given it to Penny or Tin.’

‘I considered them, but they’re both off island. Better to have it more local.’

‘Agreed, ready?’ John finished up the last few things and settled into the pilot’s seat.

‘Flipping now.’ Within seconds, Scott saw a message take over his screens. The groan could be heard all the way in England.

‘You’d better leave 5 now John, before he tries to convince someone to call you.’

‘FAB. I’ll see you all soon.’ Scott walked into the room, just as John cut the link.

‘Virgil,’ Scott started, ‘really?’

‘Yes Scott, really.’ Scott rolled his eyes and was about to speak when Virgil cut him off. ‘In all fairness big brother, you were warned. You need rest and a break. Your injury will never heal properly if you don’t.’ Scott opened his mouth to protest, and Virgil cut him off again. ‘Don’t even try it. We’re all paramedics, but I’m the family medic. You may be able to fool the others, but not me. You have 2 options right now, take this break, and I’ll keep my mouth shut about your ribs, or you can keep going on like an idiot, and I’ll turn this into medical downtime. What would you rather?’

‘You don’t play fair.’

‘No I don’t. What’s your choice?’

‘Ok, ok, you win. Regular downtime. You really don’t play fair.’

‘Noted. Now, John will be some soon enough. He’s going to do the supply run with me and Gordon. Don’t forget to add what you need to the list please.’

‘Already done.’

‘Ok, now scoot. It’ll be lunch time in a little bit, why don’t you take advantage of this nice weather and eat on the beach.’

–

‘How’d it go Virg?’

‘Better than I thought Gords. Honestly though, I was expecting more of an argument. Just let me know if he tries to break into the system or bother you for the password.’

‘Well, you did pull the John card. You never do that.’ A bunch of noise from the kitchen caught their attention. ‘What is he doing?’

‘I mentioned maybe enjoying lunch down on the beach today to relax.’ Virgil took a good look at the mess in the kitchen and the basket being packed. ‘Just how much food is he packing?’

‘Finally.’

‘Finally what Gordon?’

‘He’s finally taking the first step. It’s about time too.’ Virgil pinched his nose and groaned.

‘Gordon, not enough coffee yet this morning. Take a step back and try again please.’

‘Scott’s smitten and has been for a while now, but he’s never done anything about it. Didn’t you hear what he was saying?’

‘His mumbles? Yea, I heard him mumbling, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.’

‘I heard enough. He was trying to remember if Brains liked lemonade or grape juice more.’

‘Ahh…so finally.’

‘Yup, finally.’

‘Ok, let’s let him be and get ready for our supply run. Once John lands, we’ll head out. I was thinking…pizza night tonight.’

‘Oooooo, and a movie? I’m sure Alan can beam in later. I'm pretty sure Kyrano sent him up with his favorite pizza.’ Gordon started bouncing. He always loved their movie and pizza nights. ‘Can I have pineapple?’

‘Gordon relax. Yes we can do movie night, and I’ll never understand how you and TinTin can eat pineapple on pizza.’

‘Don’t knock it Virg.’

‘I’ll knock it all I want. It’s just not right.’ Gordon started to pout.

‘You’ve hurt my feelings big brother,’ he said, laying it on thick.

‘I’m sure. 1 pizza…only 1, for you two to share. What movie are you thinking?’

‘Hmmm, how about Top Gun? Scott and Alan both really like that one.’

‘Sure. Now go shower. John will be landing soon.’

–

Scott watched his younger brothers take off for the supply run. It was rare that John wanted to join in on it, but Scott was pleased to see him branching out a little bit.

‘Gordon remember, only 1 pineapple pizza. That’ll be plenty for the two of you. The rest of us would appreciate our favorites too, you know.’

‘I know Scott. Virgil told me, John reminded me, and now you too. I promise to bring home lots of pizza for our movie night tonight. All different varieties…something for everyone.’ Scott smiled.

‘We’ll see you all later. I already called in the order for pick up in a few hours. You have the list, right? I think Kyrano and Brains added a few small pickups too.’

‘They did, and yes we have it,’ Virgil answered. ‘Enjoy your afternoon Scott.’

‘I will. Be careful.’

Scott had noticed that Brains was holed up in his lab. The last record was 5 days. His impromptu picnic was the perfect opportunity to get him out of his lab for a break. He finished setting up the beach before heading down to the lab.

When he arrived at the lab, he stood in the doorway and smiled. Any time something happened to them on one of their missions, he would go into full blown hermit mode while he worked out how to prevent something from happening again. Because he was so engrossed in his work, he didn’t hear Scott approach.

‘Hey fella.’ Nothing, no answer. Scott got his attention when he placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey, you need to eat.’

‘H-huh?’ Brains’s brain hadn’t quite caught up with the conversation yet.

‘Break time. I’m taking one too. Why don’t you come join me for some lunch? Get some air, some food, and rest and reset for a moment.’

‘I-I’m sorry Scott, but I can’t right now. This is very important work.’

‘It’s always important work. Your work is some of the most important stuff here, and we all see, appreciate, and love your hard work and dedication. You work tirelessly to keep our birds in their best shape possible to help keep us safe on our missions.

‘S-safe,’ Brains huffed. M-more than once your birds failed to protect you guys.’

‘No,’ Scott started, turning Brains around to face him. ‘No, more than once we only got off with a few bumps and bruises instead of something far worse. Case in point, my ribs. Yes I’m sore and need rest, but nothing’s broken or life threatening. Without your technology, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.’ Scott paused a moment. ‘Do you remember what Granddad used to tell us?’ Brains shook his head.

‘If you do not schedule system maintenance, your system will schedule it for you. He wasn’t talking about work. He was referring to self care. And yes, I know, kettle meet teapot. I didn’t listen to his advice and now I’m on forced downtime so that I can take proper care of myself. I should have done this weeks ago. I would have been better off.’ Brains considered his words.

‘I-I guess it’s been a while since I’ve taken a break.’

‘Then it’s settled, come join me for some lunch.’

‘Join you?’

‘Yes. It’s just us for the next few hours, until my brothers get home with the supplies and pizza. I made a nice lunch, food enough for both of us. It’s set up down on the beach.’

‘Oh okay.’ They took the short walk from his lab to the picnic that Scott had set up for them. ‘S-scott, you did all of this?’

‘It’s nothing much, really. Just some sandwiches, fruit, and juice. You like lemonade, right?,’ he asked as he started to pour their drinks.

‘Y-ses, thank you. You really didn’t have to do all of this.’

‘We both needed a break,’ Scott started as he started to plate their food. ‘I don’t know about you, but I like your company, and since we both seemed to need a moment….I thought this was a good idea.’ Scott was stammering, unsure if he made the right decision.

‘I-I like spending time with you too. You’re one of the few people I know that doesn’t mind listening to me prattle on about my stuff.’ Scott smiled.

‘I don’t pretend to understand it all, but you always talk about your work with such passion.’ Scott didn’t expect to go down this road, but his mouth wouldn’t stop now that it started. ‘I like you for who you are, all of it. Please never stop being you. To be honest, I can’t imagine a life without you in it.’ Brains didn’t know what to say. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. ‘May I admit something to you?’ His mouth still didn’t seem to want to stop.

‘S-scott, you have my strictest confidence.’

‘When you were on the Anasta expedition, it was the first time, in a long time, that I was scared.’

‘Why?’

‘You were so excited. I watched you spend hours planning. Even during your first check in, you were so hopeful about what you expected to find the next day.’ Scott took a moment. ‘But the next morning, you missed your check in. I wanted to hope that you were just too busy with your excitement, but I knew something was wrong. I’ve seen you forget to eat or sleep, but you’ve never missed a check in.’

‘S-scott…’

‘I’m really sorry Brains. This has been on my mind a while. That day, Dad didn’t need to tell me twice to launch. Hell, if he had told me to wait, I would have gone anyway. I was both shocked and relieved to see you. Shocked to see you buried in the sand, relieved to see you alive. It wasn’t real until I had you out of that sand and leaning against my leg.’

‘I-I’m not sure what to say Scott.’

‘I’m sorry to offload like this on you. I really just wanted to have some lunch and relax. I hadn’t planned on this.’

‘Scott….stop….breathe. F-first, thank you for trusting me with this. Seeing you that day was a huge relief for me too. The logical part of me knew that you’d come once you realized something was wrong and that T-thunderbird 1 would be the first to arrive, but I was relieved to see you standing in front of me.’ Brains covered his hands with his own. ‘I-I can’t imagine a life without you in it either….I-I’m not sure what to do now.’ He said, turning timid.

‘How about this? We take it 1 step at a time. We both enjoy each other’s company, right?’

‘I-I’d like that,’

‘That settles it then. One step at a time and see what happens.’ They both smiled and continued their impromptu picnic. Scott didn’t expect them to have this conversation today. It really wasn’t his intention, but he’s glad they did.

‘S-scott, one thing first. I-I’m not sure what you expect of me. I’m relieved that we’ve both admitted our feelings to each other, but I-I don’t know what you expect.’ Scott took his hands in his own.

‘Nothing, I expect nothing.’ Brains looked at him, confused. ‘Really. I’m just happy to have you in my life. If this leads to something more, great…if not, then I still have you as a close friend, and that’s ok too. Do you expect anything of me?’

‘No Scott, same as you. 1 step at a time and see what happens.’

–

The next months go by. Brains had asked Scott for a favor, part because he needed to learn something, but it would also be the perfect excuse to spend some extra time together. After Anasta, he realized that his self defense skills were not good enough. Scott was more than happy to work with him. Through these lessons, they took time to learn more about each other.

The more Brains learned about Scott and observed him, the more he saw his natural born leader. He would question Scott about the reasons behind some of his decisions. It wasn’t to criticize, but to help him break down the why behind it, so that next time, he could anticipate. If he could break down some of the decisions better, then he could improve their technology. Never once did Scott tire of his questions or lose patience with him.

They would face a big test with the Sun Probe mission. Scott knew that Brains was keeping a close eye on the mission. He had friends at mission control, and every so often, they’d run their ideas or calculations by him. Scott came down to his lab to see if he wanted to watch over the broadcast with them. He wasn’t surprised when Brains said no, that he’d rather keep working on Braman. Braman was his newest project. There was talk about what to do next if the Sun Probe mission went well. Rumor had it that they were considering a deep space mission. If they were to accomplish that though, they’d probably have to use hibernation pods, which meant that they’d need a robot like Braman to help. If he could get Braman to think faster, better, more independently, then he could gift it to the program.

‘T-thank you Scott, but I want to keep working here.’

‘Ok, just don’t forget to eat something.’

‘I won’t. I have my coffee here too.’ Scott left him to his work and returned to the lounge to watch the broadcast. While watching it, Jeff mentioned that Brains should be there to watch with them. Before Scott could answer, Jeff got up and went down to the lab to fetch Brains.

Jeff smiled as Brains essentially shooed him from his lab. He knew all he needed to know about the mission, and he had a direct link with his friends over there. He didn’t need the broadcast to know what was happening.

Brains did take a break once he saw the data start streaming in. After a moment, he made a hurried call to his friends, but they didn’t answer. They were probably all too busy celebrating the mission’s success. He could see a problem brewing. He went up to the lounge to inform Mr. Tracy of his concerns. He saw them all watching the broadcast still and expressed his concern. A few moments later, the broadcaster confirmed that they hadn’t fired their retro rockets to return them home. International Rescue was needed. While Jeff called Cape Kennedy, Brains went back to his lab to pour over his data and maybe distract himself some.

After his call, Jeff convened everyone in the lounge, and they started going over options. As they threw out ideas, Brains crunched numbers in his head. He knew that his birds and technology were good, but would they be good enough? Safety and excellence first, he always told himself, which meant that he had extra room to work, but even pushing things, it was too close to tell if they could pull this off. Thunderbird 3 could withstand a lot, but this went well over anything they thought to test. She would have the clearer shot with her beam, but Thunderbird 2’s were stronger. The problem was, he couldn’t just switch them with each other. He could modify them both, maybe make them work a little bit better, but he couldn’t just switch them. He stored that as a future problem to solve.

In the end, they took Gordon’s idea and decided to try both approaches. Hopefully 1 or both would work. Just before Thunderbird 3 was ready to launch, Scott came down by him.

‘Hey fella,’ he started, handing him a cup, ‘have some coffee.’

‘T-thanks Scott. I-I’m still nervous about this mission. The numbers are too close to tell.’

‘Safety and excellence first, right?’ Scott said, turning him around to face him. ‘You’ve poured every fiber of your being into these craft. I trust that they will get the job done.’

‘S-scott…’

‘No, Brains. I trust you. I trust your machines. Trust me on this mission. We will bring them home and be home before you know it.’

‘Of course I trust you. I-it’s the numbers, that’s all. I-I can’t stop going over them.’

‘You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,’ Scott said, giving him a hug. ‘Dad wants to meet with us all 1 more time before we launch.’

‘I-I’ll only be a moment. I just need to put these panels back on.’

‘Good man,’ Scott said as he left to return to the lounge. Brains kept thinking. There were too many unknowns, it was too close.

Up in the lounge, they went over the mission parameters 1 more time. Jeff couldn’t hide his worry about sending Tin Tin on the mission, but Alan was right, he needed an engineer with them in space. Brains was needed in Thunderbird 2 for her part. After the briefing, Scott stole a quick moment with Brains.

‘Save this for later,’ he said, handing him a box. He then returned to the lounge and set off.

With Thunderbird 3 launching, Brains shifted his focus to Thunderbird 2. He couldn't shake off his anxiety with this mission, and it got worse the more he ran his numbers. He had to keep telling himself to have faith. After all, Scott seemed to have faith in him and his machines. He repeated to himself that he was an excellent engineer, and he wouldn’t be with International Rescue if he wasn’t. Thankfully he made sure to have his checklists for everything. They helped to keep him on point. Unfortunately, they weren’t a fool proof way to check everything. He missed that Virgil had packed the wrong box.

Before leaving the island, Brains put the box that Scott had given him on his work bench. He needed to grab some of his tools to make some adjustments to Thunderbird 2.

Out in space, the first part of the mission was relatively uneventful. Scott heard Alan mumbling to himself.

‘I just don’t get him sometimes.’

‘Who Alan?’ Alan looked at him surprised. He hadn’t realized that he was talking loud enough for anyone else to hear him.

‘Brains. It’s been bothering me. I mean, why would he rather play with his robot than watch the broadcast with us? Wouldn’t he have seen the issue sooner?’ Scott shook his head.

‘Did it ever occur to you that he wanted to keep himself busy? Or that he has friends in mission control that were feeding him information faster and earlier than any broadcast could?’

‘Ummm…’

‘In fact, if he hadn’t been in his lab to see the data himself, he probably wouldn’t have realized the danger as fast as he did. Did you know that he tried to call mission control before coming upstairs?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Alan answered sheepishly.

‘His friends were so busy that they didn’t see the danger, nor did they answer his call.’ Alan was seeing Scott’s passionate side. It could be downright intimidating.

‘Geeze Scott, don’t jump down my throat. It was just a question.’

‘Alan, you and I both know that it wasn’t ‘just a question’. There was more to it than that. You honestly thought that he didn’t care.’

‘Whatever Scott.’

‘No Alan, not whatever. If you had spent even 5 minutes with him before all of this, you would have known. Instead, you assumed and let yourself get hung up over nothing. Did you know that he’s looking to gift Braman to the space program? Did you know that if the Sun Probe mission goes well, that they’re considering other deeper space missions?’

‘Wait, really?’ Scott turned his attention to the panel in front of him and continued speaking.

‘Yea, there’s talk about a deep space manned mission, but that’ll probably need to involve those hibernation sleepers. Which means that they’d need something to help watch over the ship while her astronauts are asleep, that’s why he built Braman. That’s why he’s trying to get him perfected. Braman would be a huge asset to them.’

‘I didn’t know all of that,’ Alan admitted.

‘No you didn’t Alan.’ Things were quiet for a little bit before Alan spoke up.

‘Say Scott. How do you know all of this? Last I checked, you didn’t have a huge interest in space exploration.’

‘I’ve spent time with him, taking interest in his interests.’ Alan got quiet again. He realized how wrong he really was about just about everything in the past 24 hours.

‘I’m sorry Scott. It was pretty rotten of me to think that way about him.’ Scott ruffled his hair.

‘It’s ok Sprout. Next time though, look at the situation from all sides. You were just looking through your eyes, that you didn’t see things through his. It’ll help you with your missions too, you know. Bad assumptions/blindness lead to mission failures.’

‘I will Scott, I promise. Say, if I act like a twit like this again, feel free to snap me out of it.’

‘Sure little brother, sure.’ After their conversation, they decided to test their beam. Scott was hoping that they’d be lucky. The beam wasn’t enough, they had to go closer, but Scott didn’t want to risk Tin Tin’s life.

‘Alan, call Tin Tin and tell her to get to the escape capsule.’

‘Scott, we can ask her if she wants to go, but I know her well enough to know how she’ll answer.’

‘It’s not about asking her, Alan. I’m telling her to get into the escape capsule.’

‘Listen Scott. She knew the risks when she came with us, and we need an engineer down there. I might be good, you might be good, but out of the 3 of us, she’s the best. If something needs to be adjusted or if something goes wrong, we will need her to fix it. I trust my bird, but I simply don’t know enough about the beam to fix it if it breaks, or even how much I can push it.’

‘She doesn’t have to take this risk with us.’

‘She chose to come. You can ask her, but I’m pretty sure that I know her answer.’

‘You don’t speak for her you know. I know you two are close, but you don’t make decisions for her.’

‘Like what you're trying to do now?’

‘Touché little brother.’

‘Scott, ask her, but don’t be surprised when she tells you no.’ Alan was right. She refused to leave them.

Back on Earth, Brains and Virgil were busy working on their own calculations. Their beam wasn’t good enough. The beam in Thunderbird 3 would have to work. Brains knew that Tin Tin was working tirelessly on her own modifications and calculations. It had to work. As Brains picked through his own data to see if he could get their beam to work, he saw the Sun Probe craft move to head back towards Earth. Brains thought to himself, after this mission, I am picking apart every piece of this data. Thunderbird 3 needs to be able to handle deeper space missions if the space agency was going to go deeper into space.

As he was deep in thought, they heard from base. Mr. Tracy confirmed that Thunderbird 3 was able to fire the Sun Probe’s rockets, but they could see that Thunderbird 3 hadn’t fired her own to turn around to return home. He had to do something. This mission would not end this way. They still had their beam. Thunderbird 3 was closer to the Earth than the Sun Probe. Maybe they could reach 3. It was a long shot, but they had to try. He discussed his idea with Virgil. Virgil was on board, so they went over to the pod to get the mobile computer. Brains needed help with the math. They discovered that they had packed Braman by accident, but he was able to get the job done. His calculations brought Thunderbird 3 and her crew home.

After the mission debrief, and some much needed rest, Scott joined Brains and Braman in their game of chess.

‘Did you open my box?’

‘No Scott. W-with the excitement of the mission, I didn’t have time. I’ll go get it.’

‘I’ll walk down with you.’ They made the quick walk in comfortable silence. Scott saw the box, picked it up, and handed it to Brains. ‘You didn’t have to wait, you know. Here, open it.’ It was a simple box. Brains opened it, unsure why Scott had given him this.

‘O-one of your dog tags?’

‘Yes, I wear the other one still,’ he said, pulling out the one around his neck. ‘But, I wanted you to have this.’ Scott took the necklace out of the box and put it around Brains’s neck. ‘Do you know what it means when a soldier give someone their dog tags?’

‘No Scott, I don’t.’

‘Soldiers do not share their tags easily or lightly. It signifies the highest trust and respect. It means that I trust you with my life. It is also a reminder that you are never alone, and that you’ll always have someone fighting for you.’ Scott steadied himself, his hand covering the do tag on Brains’s chest. Brains was at a loss for words.

‘I want you to know how I feel. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I care about you a lot, and I cannot imagine my life without you in it.’

‘Nor I without you S-scott. Thank you for this,’ he said, placing his hands over Scott’s on his chest. ‘I’ll cherish this always.’

#thunderpride #thunderpride 2024

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finniestoncrane · 7 months ago

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Hi, congrats on the 2K, that is fab, and you so deserve it. If there is space left I would love to request a Gotham Harvey Bullock/Reader, front row, sci-fi, with umm… sweet popcorn and pickles [reader being the degradee], and whatever you’d recommend, if anything. He’s on your list but I don't think I’ve seen any Bullock from you so no worries if it’s not your vibe. Enjoy the rest of your night you beautiful soul. Please and TIA if you do fulfil the request. 💚💚💚

I LOVE YOU ANON no one has ever requested him before but he is beautiful and sexy and i LOVE HIM so thank you for the excuse to indulge!! you are too kind and i hope you sweat the least amount possible this summer 💚🩷 cw: sex as a commodity/as tension relief, humiliation, degradation 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

Harvey wasn't a dirty cop, not in any moral sense at least. He wasn't exactly clean either though. His bad habits were plenty, a list longer than his arm. And top of that list, the one that bothered his partner and colleagues so much, was his frequent fraternising with criminals.

Big time criminals. Heads of families, business tycoons, those in the know. And small time criminals. Criminals like you. Ones that broke the law under certain circumstances, who could often get off with a warning. Or who could offer certain services to Bullock in order for him to turn a blind eye at your more minor offences.

And your particular services were the ones he called upon the most often. No questions asked, no emotional attachment, no preamble before or after. He could show up at your door, burdened with an immense amount of stress, and you could strip your clothes off and bend over for him, as you had that evening.

"Yeah, you're a nasty little crook, huh?"

Harvey dragged his fingers through his long, greying hair, pushing it out of his eyes, his sweat keeping it scraped back and out of the way.

"A dirty, disgusting whore to boot."

His hands left your hips, which were still bucking into you, so that he could shrug off his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor. And while his cock was still buried up to the hilt, slamming clumsily against your walls, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, untucking it from his pants and exposing his chest and beer belly, lightly dusted with more greying hair, interspersed with patches of red.

"Not a good enough villain to even be on our radar. You're lucky I even know where you live... lucky I pay attention to you."

Despite his age, and despite the way he looked, he was a surprisingly good fuck. His cock stretched you, and he worked fast. And his stamina was unmatched by the other officers you had the displeasure of dealing with in the past.

And despite the cruel words he muttered as he thrust his length between your legs, you could tell he was a little sweet on you. It was in his nature. He couldn't help it. No one becomes a cop in Gotham unless they're a little bit interested in getting close to a criminal. IN Harvey's case, very close.

#finnie2k #finnie writes #harvey bullock #gotham harvey bullock #x reader

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necros-writing-stuff · 1 year ago

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The Horrors of Humanity: Collabo'ween Day 6.

Gn!Journalist!Reader/Darius Radner.

Warnings: Serial Murders; Kidnapping; Obsessive thoughts; Someone gets skinned but it's only mentions of it having happened. That's right, no smut in this one. Just dread. He do be playing mind games.

Word Count: 2366.

Notes: Might continue this later through smaller prompts. It's a good au for Dare.

His closed fist tapped against the cold metal of the table he sat at. His tongue trailed at the back of his teeth as he sucked in his lips and rolled his jaw. People sat around him, laughing or simply taking in their drinks as they watched the crowd float on by the window.

You were late. Meant to be here 10 minutes ago. It's how you always met, grabbing your warm drinks before walking around the local park and discussing the case you were following like a bloodhound.

'I'm starting to feel your absence in my heart when you aren't here,' he wrote in his journal. 'It feels leaden heavy, yet beats quicker than ever from the anxious thought that you'll never come back. How did you worm your way into my heart so fast? Was it because I wasn't looking at you when I should have had my guard up? Was that how you found the missing link in the fence that let you crawl through?'

It was true, he never meant to find your company so magnetic. People weren't his forte; a low social battery and a grumpy disposition can only handle so much before the man had to retreat back to his home to recuperate. Yet, when you left after your evening walks together, he couldn't help but yearn for more. When you were around he found himself smiling, snapping less when bumped into, hell, he even paid for that lady's baby food the other week.

'Your infectious kindness makes me feel like a new man. It was a newness I rejected at first, but I think I might like to try and be good. If it'll make you see me and not your work, I want to be good. But I still find myself playing the devil to keep you in my grasp.'

The Devil always got the contracts signed and the souls as his own in the end, didn't he?

"Hi, Dare!" You plop yourself into the seat across from him, a whoosh of air escaping your lungs as you sank into the frame. "Fucking traffic. Sorry for being so late."

You sip your drink, he closes his journal and hides it away before your instincts kick in and you try to pry it from him. Everything. You had a thirst for knowing everything. And most of the time you found it, but Darius kept you at an arm's length. He had to. To keep you safe.

" 's all good. You look knackered, love."

Dark circles under your eyes crease as you give a half-hearted smile. Your hair looks like you had your hands bothering it all day. "I haven't been sleeping the best - too busy looking over everything."

His eyes roll, already seeing that you're wasting no time on small talk today. You want straight into your little hyperfixation. Something must have really worked you up.

"Come here," you lean forward, chest touching the table top as you whisper. Darius follows with a deep sigh, his eyes shifting around the room and he feels like a toddler playing spies.

"Would be nice for you to ask me how I am, y'know?" It's bad manners for you to forget.

"Right- how are you?" Your eyes are so pretty. Your lips deserve his on them.

"Just fab, not considering skinning my employee for blunting all of my chisels."

Your face falls for a split second. Just a little bit before your eyebrows shoot up and that smile is back. "Funny you should mention skinning - that's what our friend's done."

A one track mind, truly. "Oh? Do tell me more."

It's like pulling the cord on a chainsaw. Four simple words, but he'll hear the buzz of you talking for hours now. He likes hearing you talk. He could sit and listen to you instead of being at home, watching the same old shows as he got drunk enough to pass out. Or out in the woods, in his workshop, listening to birds screech and bucks bugle.

Your excitement should be strange. It should put him off. It never has.

"Well I was talking with that constable again, you know, the tall lady? Yeah, well, there's been another body found. They don't think it's his because it's different from the others, but I know it just has to be."

What a rat. Darius never would have let shit leak like that back when he was on the force. He'd kept a tight grip on his underlings. At least this one leaks things to you; for that he could forgive her.

"How do you know?" Another sip of his coffee as you just keep fiddling with the lid of your drink.

"There's signs that he's been escalating, Dare. More violent and slow as he's killing, but an increased number of deaths. He's getting bored, so he's trying new things to bring back the magic of the first time."

The greying man considers it for a moment, his head tilting. "You should be careful, love. All this attention you give him might have him chasing you. You're well known enough that you'd end up in the news more so than the others - especially with how pretty you are. You know how the media likes a sleeping beauty sob story."

A scoff escapes your lips as you finally have a drink. "He's not dumb enough for that. Look at his targets. They're all people society ignores. He knows shit about how people work, he knows to be careful on who he picks. Since eyes would be on me, he'll stay away."

"Surprised you want him to stay away."

Oh, you don't appreciate that. A pitiful frown peers at him from across the table, your sweet face falling.

"I'm not like that, Dare. I've told you before." It's barely audible. He'd bet that your cheeks are feeling burned right about now.

A crack can be heard as he leans back and stretches his spine, his large hands combing through his hair and getting it out of his face. He's due a haircut.

"I know, love. Just teasing."

You arch a brow at him, a look that says you believe him as far as you could throw his giant frame. "Come on then. Give me your theory, what's he up to."

Ah, yes. The part of these meetings that caused them in the first place. Darius had seen your first article on your news site, your pretty little picture right there on the page. When he'd found you typing your next in this very café, he'd had to give his own two-cents. You'd been astonished and thankful that anyone was ready to hear you out (outside of degenerate threads on the internet full of strange people in love with the killer).

Bless your heart. You'd tried telling the police all of your theories, but they just wouldn't listen. Insisted they had a handle on things.

"He's lonely." A simple conclusion. A truth - not what the killings had started as. But very much what they'd turned into.

You know nothing. You never have. You know far more than anyone else but there's half of the picture you haven't filled in. And couldn't yet. That informant told you scraps of the details, but not everything about the bodies. About the messages left on them.

But you had guessed right on a few other things. Like his age range, his education or professional background - the fact that it was nine bodies so far, not six like the police believed. The fact that he is indeed a he.

"I doubt it. He shows all of the signs of a highly functioning person. He's probably well liked by people around him, probably-"

"But do any of the people around him understand him? Quite common now, no? Mental health pandemic and all that."

Your voice stutters as you find your response. "So he's… killing to feel connections? But he doesn't keep trophies. Not that we know of, anyway."

"Who says it's the victims he's vying for the love of?" Dare tips his nearly empty coffee at you.

Adorable, really. Watching the cogs in your brain turn as you recall everything you know. Watching how your tongue flicks out and wets your lips. You're a smart one. Surely you'll see what he's planting.

"He's killing to get the attention of someone else. They didn't start out like that, though. He's changed."

Darius nods along, proud. "How do you know he's changed?"

"Because of how slow and methodical he's getting. He used to just brutalise his victims, but now he's taking his time. Like he's… crafting messages?"

Bingo. You don't see the messages he makes for you, but you hear about them. And they bring you to him. The only time he gets to see you is right after he kills, when you can't wait to meet up and talk about your latest findings. But you're getting too close there.

"Or you were right the first time and he really is getting bored."

Now you're growling, rubbing your tired eyes. "Yeah… yeah… goddamn it."

Once again, you deflate. It's too easy, playing with your hopes and dreams like this. You want to catch him so bad, to know him inside and out. To know what makes him tick. But so long as you don't know, you'll come back to Dare to bounce your theories around.

Taking a final drink, Darius picks up his coat and heads to the bin to toss away the empty cardboard cup. Time for your evening walk together around the park. The cool air helped you both think.

Following suit, you chug what remains of your beverage while checking your phone. and thank him as he holds the door open even though you're enamoured by whatever is on the screen. You used to pay more attention to Darius himself, but his actions keeping your focus is close enough.

Your hand finds his, tugging him along as you rush to the park. A giddy laugh pulls from your chest. He's never touched you before. He can't think of words to say as he feels your skin against his own.

The first two killings had been out of curiosity. A need to know if they'd alleviate Darius' boredom. To know if it would shock some excitement within him. They hadn't been exciting at all until he'd found your article. You do such strange things to his head, love. All of those extra lives gone just because he needed to see you.

"Our friend managed to get some pictures for me! They're sending it over now, but they're messing around with emails to make sure it can't get back to them."

"Good news, that. You'll have more to think about." Ah. He wasn't exactly expecting this to happen so soon. Your room wasn't fully finished. "Are you sure you want to look, though? It'll be a real body. Not some movie prop. A real, skinned body."

"For better or worse, I'm very desensitised to blood and gore. I'll be fine. Are you sure you aren't the one scared to see it?" Your eyebrows waggle as you release his hand, having made it across the road and in through the gates of the park.

"I've seen this shit before. Ex-homicide department, remember?"

"Mmmm, but that was years ago, and we can go soft in our old age."

If you were anyone else he'd slap you upside your head. Despite himself, Darius laughs. "Not that old, love. I'm still in my prime."

There's a lot of trees in the park. And very little people at this time. He'd always think ahead and parked his car in a lot that just backed off into the foliage, in a blind spot from cameras, just in case. You walked to the café since it wasn't far from the office.

Your phone buzzes, your smile ceasing as you take in a deep breath and look over the photo. Your fingers pinch and you zoom in to examine every detail you can. A paleness crosses your skin.

"Fucking hell…"

Yeah, that's about right. Dare went the extra mile with this one.

"He really did take his time with this. It's. God, its smooth work. He knows how to butcher." The disgust is evident in your tone and the way your lip curls. What did he just tell you? You're biting off more than you can chew.

Darius' fingers snake their way into the deep pockets of his coat. They trace the rope he has hidden away. The capped needle he prepares before every meeting.

"He's-"

The gulp is audible as you scroll to the next photograph. Almost gag like as you zoom in as far as you can - your eyes blowing up as your expression blanks. You found it. His little note. A name, sewn onto the sole of the foot delicately. A nickname you barely tell anyone about because it embarrasses you. But you'd told Dare.

He can't hear anything over the sound of his blood rushing through his veins in his ears. Time seems to slow as your terrified gaze meets his own. The twitch of your muscles comes too late as you realise he's already moving - that he has something in his hand. Your scream dies as a gargle when Darius' free palm meets your throat, squeezing tightly as the needle goes in.

Oh, his poor little investigator. It was time to go home.

To Darius, you weigh little. Trussing you up is simple work, as is getting you in the boot of his car. There's a pillow in there for your head. Memory foam. He'd bring it inside to your new bed along with you, even if the room wasn't quite ready. He could make it work. Keep you bound, chained.

Driving past the café on the way home raises his curiosity. You wouldn't talk to him like you had in there. Not anymore. You'd be scared; feeling confused. Betrayed, maybe. He'd explain it all for you, though. His journal would tell you everything you ever wanted to know. Everything about how you became his muse.

The police wouldn't be hearing from him again. He had what he wanted.

#darius radner #collaboween #necro's fics #gn reader #cw death #cw abduction #cw horror #not dol

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years ago

Note

When are you going to do your next chronological Doctor Who post?

Lol I realise I did two more tonight but I'm answering this anyway because Steff and I made a very stupid decision tonight so this is my announcement:

We are going to include one (1) story from the English series.

Just one. No others. It would take far too long to do the whole thing, and to be honest, I wouldn't want to - some of those Hartnells were a slog, and I find most of Colin Baker unwatchable (I'm sorry Colin you were actually fab, the problem was very much Eric Saward and also that awful slug). But we're idiots and thought putting in a single story would be funny.

I will not say what it is. You'll find out when we get to it. I am VERY interested to see if anyone guesses.

I will say, though, that at least one element of this story will recur in the Welsh series. I will not say if there's more than one; I also will not say what sort of element. It could be a character, an actor, a monster, a villain, a place, an institution, an object, anything. We may have already encountered it, we may not. But there is a link, so it will sort of count in the plot threads (or not, as the case may be).

Why are we doing this? Because we're idiots and like chaos.

#doctor whom #and yet we are continuing #asks

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greywake · 2 years ago

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FabFiveFeb

I haven't forgotten! Uni assignments are still eating my life but this one wanted to be set free.

(There will be one more - no way Kayo's going to get to slink off!) I still blame @gumnut-logic for the fun I've been having with this!

AO3 link here

The Confidence of Idiocy

“Why? Because I’m smarter than you! If it wasn’t for my brillian…”

John barely managed to restrain the urge to roll his eyes at Fishler’s latest rant as he put the man back on mute.

Honestly, you’d think that someone who’d managed to get stuck underground thanks to unfettered digging that resulted in a cave-in would be a little more concerned with safety. But then again, if he was, he wouldn’t be Langstrom Fischler.

“Thunderbird Two, how’s it looking?”

"Slow but we'll get there," Virgil grunted, obviously putting effort into the earthmoving tasks. “Do we even know what he was trying to achieve down here?”

He grimaced, “Something about taking advantage of untapped geothermal potential.”

“But…”

John suppressed the urge to grin at the outrage in his brother’s voice. “I know.”

“There’s no…”

“I know.”

“But it's too deep and geologically unstable in this area!”

Virgil was insulted. Deeply. Viscerally.

It was the same tone Virgil had used the last time he'd been near apoplectic over the suggestion that internal components could be substituted for cheaper options to keep costs down without compromising safety and efficiency.

John had to suppress a giggle at the reaction to the generally relaxed engineer’s rant.

“Scans are showing that you’re approximately one hundred metres away from Fischler and his people. Can you give me an estimate on how long it’ll take to get through?”

“So long as nothing else goes wrong, we should reach the id…” Virgil paused as Scott coughed a warning, “The control capsule in about half an hour.”

“FAB.”

He sighed and checked the clock as he unmuted the little transparent Fischler hologram, “...n’t possibly understand the…”

“Mr Fischler,” John ruthlessly interrupted the diatribe. Seriously, how was the guy still talking?! “Our current estimates suggest that we’ll reach you in approximately thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes?” The hologram waved its tiny arms in apparent rage. “Totally unacceptable! Call yourselves International Rescue? More like International Slow Pokes! Make a note! I’m going to start my own rescue agency. I will develop vehicles that are faster, better than anything you…you… incompetents have!”

John sighed, “Mr Fischler, please calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? I shall do no such thing! I will…”

Reaching the end of his patience, John muted the scientist again, “Scott, Virgil, anything you can do to hurry would be appreciated. Fischler’s giving me a headache.”

“We’ll do what we can, John. Just hang in there.” Scott’s reassuring voice gave him the fortitude he needed to deal with the man.

“I believe I have calculated a more efficient route to the buried command capsule, John. Shall I forward it to Virgil?” EOS’ childlike voice sounded over the speakers.

“Please, EOS. Anything we can do to get Fischler out quicker will be good for everyone.”

The AI was silent for a moment as she complete her task. “I really don’t see how he can justify calling International Rescue incompetents. I have analysed the reports on projects directly involving Langstrom Fischler. There is a ninety-three per cent failure rate, typically caused by shoddy manufacturing, substandard materials, insufficient safety measures, and a litany of other easily resolved issues.”

John raised an eyebrow. It couldn’t be good that the AI had picked up on the general Tracy antipathy towards the man to the point that she would join in with the criticism.

“In conclusion, I believe that Langstrom Fischler is not capable of successfully designing anything more complicated than a wet handkerchief.”

He masked his snort of amusement with a cough and gave the ring of LEDs a stern look. “Please make sure you never repeat that anywhere that Fischler could hear it, EOS.”

“Yes, John.” There was definitely a giggle in her voice.

Yep. She had definitely been spending too much time with Gordon and Alan.

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tenteetwo · 1 year ago

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New OEC teaser

this is probably gonna be superrrr nonsensical but I really love loona lore so i’m just gonna waffle about it here.

Someone else has already pointed it out but the new OEC colours are similar to the CMY colour model.

OEC were previously based on the primary colours - with Kim Lip as Red, Jinsoul as Blue and Hyunjin as Yellow. Hyunjin was originally going to be part of OEC but gave up her colour, so Jinsoul and Kim Lip make Choerry (Red + Blue = Purple) to replace her. However, in the new teaser their colours have changed to Kim Lip being pink, Jinsoul is now yellow and Choerry is cyan. Just like a CYM model.

The colours aren’t exactly spot on but Loonaverse lore never really is on the nose so whatever. Kim Lip being pink rather than magenta could be explained as pink can considered a shade of magenta. Both Jinsoul and Kim Lip’s colours are paler than as seen on a CMY colour model. I think this could be due to the fact that they seem to be without their powers, which was theorised during earlier teasers. Unlike the other two, Choerry’s colour is more spot on.

I also want to add that with this new colour wheel Choerry is no longer a mixture of Kim lip and Jinsoul, but instead a primary.

With this considered, it could point towards Choerry becoming stronger and growing into her role as a member of OEC.

Choerry is also the only member holding a diamond and covering her odd eye. The diamond may possibly be reference to Haseul, who had a common diamond motif in Let me in. This isn’t too far fetched to believe as Haseul has signed with Modhaus, so it would make sense to include her in the lore. (Choerry also wears diamond earrings in LCM so there is already a link between the two, this isn’t just a one off). Other than that im not too sure as to what the diamond could symbolise.

She’s also wearing a mobius strip earring. Flip that seemed to be leading towards the girl’s escaping the loop but maybe flipping the strip didn’t free them at all?

From here onwards I’m just gonna be completely waffling

Moving on I also want to point out that it seems like Modhaus is following the lore where Flip that left off, due to the use of inverted colours.

We know from Flip that’s intro that the colours have been inverted.

Using this we can see that OEC’s colours should be something similar to this:

These colours appeared in the teaser video so it’s safe to assume Modhaus isn’t abandoning the inverted/flipped colours.

Cyan and yellow are in this palette, but green is present instead of magenta. Additionally, Kim Lip is the one who should be cyan, not Choerry. So the inverted colours are still present (minus green), but just mismatched.

The closest we get to magenta with the inverted colours are Gowon and Haseul.

For now I’m just going to assume Kim lip is taking on Haseul’s colour. I’ve also seen a couple theories circulating about how the two parallel each other so this would make sense. (Heejin and Gowon’s colours are like perfect inverts of eachother so I think if #that man may be saving Heejin’s colour lore for if he ever gets Gowon to sign.)

There’s also been theories about Jinsoul stealing Hyunjin’s colour in order to take on yellow but I don’t think that’s the case. I actually think Choerry is stealing Hyunjin’s colour. If you look back at the image above Hyunjin’s original colour inverts into blue (it’s not cyan but do i gaf). Choerry may be adopting her role as Hyunjin’s ‘replacement’ completely, which would make sense as she’s become a primary now.

Ok I’m done now I can’t really think of anything else to ramble about. I mean there’s Jinsoul’s image but she already said on Fab that the mist means nothing she just thought it looked cool 😭

In conclusion Choerry is gonna play a more major role, Haseul plays an important role and has ties with OEC, the colours are fucked up and they might not be free from the loop..? Or im wrong about everything but wtv writing this was fun.

#loona #loonaverse #odd eye circle #loonaverse lore #loona lore #artms #kim lip #choerry #jinsoul #im aware the fonts orange but i dont know how to make it yellow #god i hate modhaus #haseul joining makes so much sense with the lore like STOP #i dont think anyone will read this but do i care

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 1 year ago

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If DCLA characters had Tumblr part 3 🕺🏼

🙍🏻‍♂️ my-name-is-tomas follow

Who answered no? 😞

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👩🏻‍🦱 dangerously-beautiful-ant follow

What are your first memories?

I’ll go first: I was 3 and my little sister was just born, and I got to hold her and I asked if she was gonna stay with us forever 🥹☺️

🎤 singing-is-who-i-am follow

I was around 2 and had woken up, and no one was awake so I wandered the house confused over where everyone had gone. Then, I went into the kitchen and there was my mom. She picked me up and hummed a tune and I felt so soothed 💓

🌼 punk-not-dead follow

I was kicked out of daycare at age 3 because I had ”caused too much trouble”. Apparently our teacher had put some matches on the table because they were gonna use them, and we were instructed to NOT touch them. So naturally I did touch them and I lit a curtain on fire. They wanted to excuse this as an accident if it weren’t for the fact that I had been opening the front door and run outside to the parking lot, escaped through a window at naptime, and bit a teacher I hated so hard that she started bleeding. There was also some incidents where I ran with knives or scissors, although no one got hurt, but now they just could not take it anymore.

I just remember waiting in the teacher’s lounge as my mom was inside the principal’s office, and I really needed to pee. And I could have just walked over to the potty standing in the restroom next door but I decided to make my mean teachers suffer, so I put my pants down and peed on their couch. I covered it with a pillow.

A minute later my mom came out and we left. I never returned but those bitches got what they deserved. I wish I could have seen their reactions.

🎀 italys-biggest-bow-collector follow

I don’t even know if I can tell my first memory after whatever I just read?

Respectfully what the heck.

500 notes

🍓 chico-fresa follow

There’s so many people I know irl who has Tumblr. The problem is, I can’t figure out who some of them are. And they won’t say.

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi follow

Way to vaguepost about me in tags, Matteo. Anyway I’ll give you a hint: I barely speak to you.

🍓 chico-fresa follow

… Delfi?

But even Delfi speaks to me a little bit because of interviews so…

🐬 fab-and-chic-delfi follow

It’s not me.

🍓 chico-fresa follow

I WILL figure it out! Just you wait!

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi follow

Good fucking luck snob-dude

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🎸 beanie-guitarist follow

I love getting to know people on tumblr. You all have such interesting lives. Literally everyone I meet here are like ”oh no my life is so boring” and then they tell me something about it that sounds so interesting!!

💍 queenoftherink follow

As if people you know irl do not have interesting lives.

😎 rapmiro follow

Yeah, like Ramiro! You know him! I make your life interesting by spreading my interesting life!

10 notes

🎹 moondust-og follow

Uploaded a new video at my channel with a brand new piano cover! Link in the pinned post 🎵

👨‍🍳 kunsts-best-chef follow

Everyone check out my roomate’s work!!!!

💃🏼 daisydances follow

^^^^^^^ !!!!!!!

4 notes

🌟 supernova-number-one follow

Fun fact, I’m a brunette but my mom from an early age thought I would have looked better blonde and she encouraged me to dye it… this is the first year since I was like 7 that I actually have my natural hair color again.

💍 queenoftherink follow

Oh, reminds me of how my ”mom” liked to put my hair in the same hairstyle as her, I legit looked like a mini her for so long… I’m blonde, though my natural hair color is darker blonde, and she did also encourage me to dye it to platinum blonde.

🌟 supernova-number-one follow

May I ask why you write mom in quotations?

💍 queenoftherink follow

Long story short, I’m adopted by her but due to some safety bullshit or whatever she didn’t want people to know that, because she has a lot of power and if people knew she had a daughter that could have lead to danger for me. So, I have always referred to her as my godmother. Some of our staff probably still believes I’m actually her goddaughter lol.

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi follow

Now why were you ok with answering when she asked but when I asked you just called me a ”dear lesbian on the internet”?

💍 queenoftherink follow

Now is not the time, dear lesbian on the internet.

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi follow

I hope you know that I know you irl

💍 queenoftherink follow

But on the internet you’re a dear lesbian.

#i know you like it #your bio title is literally ’dear lesbian on the internet’ you love that title #you’re welcome for giving it to you

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🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon follow

My cousin’s friend offered me some strange gummy bears 🤣 And now I feel really loopy.

💍 queenoftherink follow

@not-homophobic-goth-girl EMILIA WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU GIVE HER

💄 not-homophobic-goth-girl follow

Just some gummy bears?

💍 queenoftherink follow

She’s literally declaring a cheese slicer a god Emilia wtffff!!!!

💄 not-homophobic-goth-girl follow

That just sounds like common Luna behavior to me.

Also what’s a cheese slicer?

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon follow

Wait how do you not know what a cheese slicer is?

💄 not-homophobic-goth-girl follow

GOD DAMMIT LUNA you ruined the prank!!

💍 queenoftherink follow

Wait this was a prank???

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon follow

Yeah, I had to ruin the prank because I am genuinely confused - do you not know what a cheese slicer is?

Ámbar we decided to prank you that I had gotten high because Emilia said ”it would be priceless”. She actually just gave me regular gummy bears.

💄 not-homophobic-goth-girl follow

Wtf is a cheese slicer I never seen that in my life

💍 queenoftherink follow

Gotta admit good prank… i’m giving you credit I fell for it.

But now I’m also wondering how you do not know what a cheese slicer is.

💄 not-homophobic-goth-girl follow

I don’t eat a lot of cheese?

💍 queenoftherink follow

NEITHER DO I but I fucking know what it is???

42 notes

📝 angiesthoughts follow

I remember when my niece was a baby and I had a terrible day at school before coming over to visit, and my sister was busy in the kitchen and I just… vented to my niece as she laid on her playpen. And since that day, I for whatever reason felt like she was the best listener to my troubles. It was perfect, I could talk out about my problems and she just listened. Then I could cuddle with her to feel better. I used to offer to change her diapers just so we could be alone for a moment and I could just… vent.

Now she’s all grown up and I’m listening to all of her vents and bringing comfort and cuddles 💓 I guess I returned the favor.

🎤 singing-is-who-i-am follow

Well I guess this is one way to find out my aunt has Tumblr?

#angie please block the hashtag ’vilu gets real’ I have sworn to never let any family members see that #not even my cool aunt sorry

6 notes

✌🏼 arodarmivida follow

Watching Rise of the pink ladies and why is my girlfriend literally Nancy?

My girlfriend WOULD sing ”A world without boys” and Brutal Honesty is literally her guardian angel about her. Also Nancy sews clothes just like my girl 💛💛

🍓 chico-fresa follow

Wait I figured it out! You’re Jim! Figured out one person on Tumblr I know irl…

I didn’t know you had a girlfriend! Thought you were straight honestly. Who’s your girlfriend? Wait don’t tell I wanna figure it out 🤔

✌🏼 arodarmivida follow

Get the fuck out of this post if you’re not gonna discuss rise of the pink ladies this post was only for that show and also so that my girlfriend specifically would reply. And she probably will reply in DMs now to make it harder for you.

#you’re on thin ice just for saying that you thought I was straight hope you know that

3 notes

🌼 punk-not-dead follow

It’s so funny because you may be close to most of your friends but there are some that knows more about your life than others.

I have some friends who know every single crazy thing I’ve done and then I have some friends who actually percieves me as ”chill” and does not even know about my boyfriend material scrapbook.

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon follow

This. I love and cherish all of my friends but I don’t think some of them are aware of when I went to learn more about my past and had to dress up in a disguise to not be recognized at a nursing home, nor am I sure if they know all the drama that happened in the house I live in.

✌🏼 arodarmivida follow

Tell me why you never told me that you dressed up in a disguise to go to a nursing home?? That sounds hilarious I would have wanted to come along

#also op tell us about your boyfriend material scrapbook

7 notes

#fun fact ’snob-dude’ was a real translation of chico fresa the swedish dub did #violetta #soy luna #disney bia #if dcla characters had tumblr

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undiscoveredclassics · 2 years ago

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(1/3) The Bearcage! Let’s dive into the predecessor to the Cheetah. “Who knew that by printing one small archive photo of a wooden buck shaped like no roadster we could identify, followed by a brief history of the Cheetah, we’d be blowing the dust off of the story about a stillborn sports car that directly preceded the Cheetah project? That dusty trail took us to Florida and Oregon and Don Edmunds, 85, who led the design of both cars: the former while working for Bill Stroppe in 1958-1960, and the latter in conjunction with Bill Thomas in 1962-1963. At a time when "Birdcage" Maseratis were all the rage, Stroppes crew tagged this project the Bearcage (referencing Bill's imposing physical presence). Similarities to the subsequent Cheetah were pointed out to us by historian Geoff Hacker, whose sport-custom collection was featured in our last edition. Geoff rocked us with the revelation that the unfinished Bearcage not only survives but is safely in the hands of a buddy determined to complete a job that frustrated a series of talented owners over the last half-century. Don Edmunds was already a hero of Southern California's high-performance scene before being hired at the storied Stroppe and Associates skunk works responsible for much of FoMoCo's racing success. He arrived with a resume that included recognition as Rookie Driver of the Year at the '57 Indianapolis 500. Don had also been the lead fabricator at Bill Devin's, Doug Caruthers, and Eddie Kuzmas race-car shops. It was at Stroppes that he became forever linked to the Bearcage. "I was just messing around with this for Bill in my spare time. I think he dropped the car either because he thought it was gonna be too much of a truck or because I'd be more valuable to him on other, paying projects. He hired me to run the fab shop, Don recalls. That experience would serve Don well when he was asked by Bill Thomas to hurriedly design and build an aluminum prototype that became the first Cheetah in late 1962.” (at Tampa, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmjaMOQLB0Z/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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annarellix · 2 years ago

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Someone Had to Do It by Amber and Danielle Brown - EXCERPT

Brandi Maxwell is living the dream as an intern at prestigious New York fashion house Simon Van Doren. Except “living the dream” looks more like scrubbing puke from couture dresses worn by hard-partying models and putting up with microaggressions from her white colleagues. Still, she can’t help but fangirl over Simon’s it-girl daughter, Taylor. Until one night, at a glamorous Van Doren party, when Brandi overhears something she shouldn’t have, and her fate becomes dangerously intertwined Taylor’s. Model and influencer Taylor Van Doren has everything…and is this close to losing it all. Her fashion mogul father will donate her inheritance to charity if she fails her next drug test, and he’s about to marry someone nearly as young as Taylor, further threatening her stake in the family fortune. But Taylor deserves the money that’s rightfully hers. And she’ll go to any lengths to get it, even if that means sacrificing her famous father in the process.

All she needs is the perfect person to take the fall…

Buy Links: HarperCollins.com BookShop.org Barnes & Noble Amazon Books-A-Million IndieBound

The Authors

Amber and Danielle Brown both graduated from Rider University where they studied Communications/Journalism and sat on the editorial staff for the On Fire!! literary journal. They then pursued a career in fashion and spent five years in NYC working their way up, eventually managing their own popular fashion and lifestyle blog. Amber is also a screenwriter, so they live in LA, which works out perfectly so Danielle can spoil her plant babies with copious amount of sunshine. Social Links:

Author Website: https://www.amberanddanielle.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/ambersharelle https://twitter.com/dani_nicbrown Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/amberanddanielle/ Goodreads

EXCERPT

BRANDI I had a ton of illusions, vivid fantasies of what it would be like to score a coveted internship at Van Doren. Deluded old me thought I would be strutting around the stunning tri-story headquarters in single-soled heels, flitting from design con¬cept meetings to on-location photo shoots, living my best fashion-girl life. Instead, I’m in the back corner of the two-thousand-square-foot ready-to-wear samples closet scrubbing fresh vomit from a slinky gown worth double my rent dur¬ing my lunch hour. Italian Vogue’s current cover girl borrowed the hand-sewn dress for a red-carpet event last night, and apparently getting it back on a rack without ruining it was too much for one of the other interns to handle. She was so hungover when she came to the office this morning that she vomited all over the dress before making it out of the elevator. But of course this dress needs to be ready for another model to wear to some big extravaganza tonight, and since I’m the designated fuckover intern, I have to clean it by hand because the satin-blend fab¬ric is too delicate to be dry-cleaned. This is what it takes. I chant this to remind myself why I’m here as the lactic acid builds up in my biceps. Working for Van Doren has been on my proverbial vision board ever since I reluctantly gave up the idea, in middle school, that I could be Beyoncé. It’s a storm of hauling hundreds of pounds of runway samples around the city and sitting in on meetings with the sketch artists. A glo¬rious, next-to-holy experience when I’m on duty at photo shoots and one of the stylists sends me to fetch another blazer, not a specific blazer, which means I get to use my own vesti¬ary inclinations to make the selection. Which has only hap¬pened once, but still. Just as I get the stain faded by at least seventy percent, I hear the sharp staccato of someone in stilettos approaching. I turn around and see Lexi. Lexi with her bimonthly touched-up white-blond hair and generous lip filler that she’ll never admit to having injected. When she steps closer in her head-to-toe Reformation, I am grateful that I remembered to put on a few sprays of my Gypsy Water perfume. The one that smells like rich people. But the way she’s staring at me right now, it’s clear that no matter how much I try, I am still not on her level. I do not fit in here. She does not see me as her equal, despite the fact that we are both unpaid, unknown, disposable interns. It’s become glaringly obvious that at Van Doren, it’s not actually about what you contribute, but more about how blue your blood is. Lexi doesn’t even know my name, though I’ve been here a solid nine weeks and I’m pretty sure I’ve told her at least a dozen times. I’m already on edge because of my assignment, so I jump in before she can ask in her monotone voice. “Brandi.” “Right,” she says, like she does every time yet still forgets. “Chloé wants the Instagram analytics report for last week. She said she asked you to put it together an hour ago.” Which is true, but completely unfair since Jenna from mar¬keting also asked me to run to Starbucks to buy thirty-one-ounce cups of liquid crack for her and her entire department for a 9:00 a.m. meeting, an effort that took three trips total, and technically I’m still working on the data sheets I promised Eric from product development. Not to mention the obvious: getting rid of the puke from the dress. “I’m still working on it,” I tell her. Lexi stares at me, her overly filled brows lifted, as if she’s waiting for the rest of my excuse. I understand her, but also I’m wondering how she still hasn’t realized this is not a case of Resting Bitch Face I have going on, that I am actually in¬tolerant of her nagging. Normally, I am not this terse. But nothing about today has been normal. Since this week is my period week, I’m retain¬ing water in the most unflattering of places and the pencil dress I’m wearing has been cutting off the circulation in my thighs for the past couple of hours, and being that I’ve spent most of my break destroying the evidence of someone else’s bad decisions, it is not my fault that I’m not handling this par¬ticularly well. “I’ll send it over as soon as I’m done,” I say to Lexi so she can leave. But she doesn’t. “HR wants to see you,” she says with what looks like a smirk. My mouth opens. I have no idea what HR could want, and although I’m still new to this employee thing, I know this can’t be good. “Like, now,” Lexi barks and pivots away in her strappy, open-toe stilts. I hang the sample next to the door, and before I leave the room I pause to briefly take in the rest of the dresses stuffed on the racks, each one in that chic, elevated aesthetic that is the cornerstone of Van Doren. This is my favorite part of the day, the chaotic nature of this room a little overwhelm¬ing but also inspiring, and I can’t wait for the day that this is my world, not just one I’m peeking my head into. A world in which I command respect. I cross through the merchandising department, where ev¬eryone has their own private office with aerial views of Hell’s Kitchen, Soho and the Garment District, and then move through the maze of the sprawling suite in a mild sort of panic until I remind myself that I have done nothing wrong. Ever since spring semester ended, I’ve been putting in more hours than the sun. I slip in at six-thirty when the building is dark and vaguely ominous, my eyes still puffy with sleep, and when I finally drag myself into the elevator at the end of the day, it’s just as black and quiet outside. I religiously show up in current-season heels despite the blisters, albeit mass-produced renditions of the Fendi, Balenciaga and Bottega Venetas the other summer interns casually strut around in, and mostly stick to myself. I am careful about raising my voice, even if I vehemently disagree with my neurotic supervisor. I keep my tongue as puritanical as a nun’s, even when fucking incel or cod¬dled narcissistic bitch are on the tip of it. I’m not rude or combat¬ive. I stay away from gossip. I complete all my tasks with time to spare, which is usually when I check Twitter and help out some of the other interns, even though I’d rather FaceTime Nate in the upstairs bathroom with the magical lighting. I even entertain the gang of sartorially inclined Amy Coopers in the making who insist on obnoxiously complaining to me about all of their first-world, one-percenter problems. I’ve done nothing but consistently given them reasons to think I am a capable, qualified, talented intern who would make an exceptional employee. I have nothing to worry about. When I knock on the door to Lauren’s office, she looks up from her desk and waves me in through the glass. I have a feeling this will not go my way when I see that my super-visor, Chloé, one of the more amiable assistants, is also here, fiddling with her six-carat engagement ring in the corner and avoiding eye contact. “Have a seat, Brandi,” Lauren says, and I tell myself to ig¬nore that her bright pink lipstick extends above her lip on one side. There is no small talk. No hello or how’s it going? Under al¬ternate circumstances, I would feel slighted, but because I’m growing more anxious by the second, I’m grateful for her smugness. As I sit down, Chloé shifts in her chair, and I speak before she can. “I’m sorry. The Instagram report is at the top of my task list. I’ll definitely have it to you before I leave today. I just—” “That’s not why you’re here, Brandi,” Lauren interjects. “Oh.” I pause, and as she glances down at her notes, I try to make meaningful eye contact with my supervisor, but she is still actively dodging my eyes. Lauren begins by throwing out a few compliments. My work ethic is admirable and I have great attention to detail, she says, and the whole time my heart is pounding so loud, I can barely make out most of her words. Chloé jumps in to effusively agree, then Lauren finally stops beating around the bush and looks me directly in the eyes. “We just don’t feel like you’re fitting into the culture here at Van Doren.” Every word feels like a backhanded slap across the face, the kind that twists your neck and makes the world go still and white for a few disconcerting moments, like an orgasm but not like an orgasm. It’s obvious what they mean, yet can’t quite bring themselves to say. They just don’t like that I’m black. They don’t like the way I wear my braids—long and un¬apologetic, grazing my hips like a Nubian mermaid. They don’t like that I’m not the smile-and-nod type, willing to assimilate to their idea of what I should be, how I should act. Culture. That’s their code for we-can’t-handle-your-individuality-but-since-we-don’t-want-to-seem-racist-we’ll-invent-this-little-loophole. Black plus exceptional equals threat. “If we don’t see any improvement in the coming weeks, we’re going to have to let you go,” Lauren says with no irony, her mouth easing into a synthetic smile. I blink. I cannot believe this is happening right now. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, my internship at Van Doren, the one fashion company whose ethics align with mine. I wasn’t just blowing smoke up Lauren’s ass when I interviewed for this job, though I was looking at her sideways, wondering why she had not a stitch of Van Doren on. I’d splurged on a single-shouldered jumpsuit from this year’s spring collection that I couldn’t really afford just to impress her, while she hadn’t even felt the need to represent the brand at all as she shot out all those futile questions interviewers love propelling at can¬didates, I’m convinced, just to see them squirm. Even minus¬cule amounts of power can be dangerous. This is bullshit, being put on probation, and I’d give any¬thing to have the balls to call them on it. As I sit here para¬lyzed, Lauren’s words reverberate in my head and I rebuke them, want to suffocate and bury them.

#Blog Tour #graydon house #thriller #excerpt #netgalley

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bottomofthewell · 4 years ago

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Hyrule Warriors gave us so many awesome ladies and it seems like hardly anyone spent time (friend)shipping/rivalry pairing any of them together. What's up with that?

#truly a waste #if i could go back in time i would have pushed those midruto vibes harder #and zelimpa #and zelcia (in a hatefuck kinda way)#and lord help me if nabooru had been in that game #still have a soft spot for nabimpa #also have a soft spot for impa being the biggest watchdog lesbian in general #there was more midzel fuel #i also crave some more rivalry content between midna and cia #impa totally getting in cia's face but slightly distracted by dem t*tties #more girl attention #hyrule warriors #tloz #tbf i realize a lot of people got fab gan hair slapped #and link was a cutie pie #and ghirahim actually looked like the attack snack he was meant to be #i got swayed by those lads too

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ynscrazylife · 3 years ago

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Heyo! I hope you had a fab bday!!! I was wondering if I could request a ‘being ___ would include’ but for the reader being BlackHill (Nat and Maria’s) teen daughter? Ty for all the work you give us btw bestie its always so good

Being BlackHill’s Daughter Would Include . . .

Authors Note: Thank you! I did have a great day.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/widowlayouts

Being the daughter of a top S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s second-in-command meant that you practically lived at the organization’s headquarters

Babysitter cancelled? You were sitting in the break room, usually being watched by Clint or Phil

Nick played an uncle role to you and you loved to tease him and call him “Grandpa”

Phil and Clint were like uncles, too

The three have a secret competition between themselves on who’s the best uncle to you

Clint claims he won when you called him the “fun uncle” once

Bobbi, Jemma, Daisy, and May are like aunts to you

Natasha, especially when you were little, usually promised you a cookie in exchange for you going up to Maria with your cute puppy dog eyes and asking if Natasha could skip mission paperwork

It worked 9/10 times

Maria would do the same if she wanted Natasha to not go on a mission

Which usually didn’t work because Fury butted in

And then your moms would use your cuteness against Fury, which always worked

He had a soft spot for you

From a young age, you were being trained in combat

Bobbi also insisted teaching your everything science-related

You loved doing experiments with her

Whenever one of your moms had to go away on a particularly long and dangerous mission, you’d be devastated

Fury did his best to plan it so one of your moms would always be with you

It was difficult, though, because you missed them a lot

When the Avengers were formed, each of them loved you

You were especially close to Steve and Sam

Tony loved to spoil you, too

He tried to convince your moms that Jarvis was a good enough babysitter (you and Jarvis were great friends) but that didn’t work

You took every opportunity you had to try and lift Thor’s hammer

But when Loki came along, things got difficult

When Clint was brainwashed by him and was forced fo tell Loki about you, he got a wicked idea. He quickly saw that you had all the Avengers wrapped around your finger and devised a plan to use you against them.

Naturally, he had Clint kidnap you

When the Avengers got a video that showed Clint holding you hostage and they saw how terrified you were, they were both devastated and angry

Natasha was especially heartbroken because Clint was her best friend

Thankfully, they were able to get you back, and Maria and Natasha were very protective over you

When Clint was returned to normal, it took some time for your uncle-niece relationship to be repaired

He apologized countless times to you and your moms

When Phil died, you were devastated

Maria had a big fight with Fury because she refused to keep the fact that Phil was alive from you and Natasha

Of course, she told you and Natasha that Phil was fine, and you both were elated

You weren’t supposed to tell the rest of the team, but you were too excited and let it slip

Fury couldn’t even be mad

You were also very close to Clint’s children and, when you got older, babysat them

The toughest time in your life was when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell

For starters, having to deal with many of the agents that were like family to you now being outed as villains was very difficult

You were disgusted to think that you had ever trusted them and angry about what they had done

You also had to watch your parents deal with this, which was very hard

Especially with Maria essentially losing her job

It was a lot on you emotionally, but you were hiding it because you didn’t want your moms to have to deal with this, too

You almost broke when Fury died, but just about managed to hold it together until you learned that he was alive

And the second you could you ran to him and hugged him

However it all came crashing down when you were taken hostage by an agent who wanted revenge and blamed Fury and Natasha for Pierce’s death

You were beyond terrified

Even when Clint had taken you hostage, a part of you didn’t believe that he’d actually hurt you

But this guy did

You were so scared of what was going to happen and if your parents would find you

Thankfully, they did

When you were pulled from unconsciousness and saw your moms crouched in front of you, worried, you almost thought you were dreaming

When Maria untied you from the chair you had been restrained to and Natasha picked you up, you started crying from relief

You were barely conscious but so glad to be out of there

On the way to the Quinjet, you caught glimpses of the Avengers fighting your captors

The whole time, Natasha was doing her best to make you comfortable and Maria was checking you for any injuries

You were floating in and out of consciousness but when you were awake, almost always Bruce was giving you a smile and updating you about whatever medical thing he was doing to help you

Natasha and Maria were great moms and you were very grateful for them

They were the best protectors and the best caregivers and always boasted about you to anyone and everyone they could

They also LOVED to tickle you

As did Fury, Phil, and the rest of the Avengers

They all thought you were adorable

Oh, and you and Carol instantly bonded

And ganged up on Fury

You learned a lot about the world through your moms and, when you were old enough, followed in their footsteps and became a secret agent

This time — for S.W.O.R.D.

You bonded with Darcy and Monica

And your moms freaked out when they learned about your experience with Westview

Butttt that’s a story for another time

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings@paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath@celestialbarnes @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @big-galaxy-chaos@cc13723things @ycfwmalise14 @unexpected-character (could not tag) @passionswift @drayshadow

MCU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @summerlovingbaby @ineffablebean@okkulta @procrastinatingsapphictrash @prettysbliss @caseyfish @sarahp-stan@thewidowsghost @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise@kidswhofightmonsters @xtraordinaryfangrl @peggycarter-steverogers@username23345 @ima-gi--na-tion @yori-nakajima @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mads-weasley @tenaciousperfectionunknown @afraid-to-be-me @lilclownx @acertainredhead @natromanoffxox @lilymurphy03@thanossexual @avengersz-biotch @kozumekoi @mjaudrey @un-name-d@leyannrae @buckyandstevesbitch @kuzomekou-blog @nylevea

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theroomofreq · 3 years ago

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can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest. He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion. She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

#ror reqs #jily fic #mugge fic recs #jily fic rec list

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houseofhurricane · 3 years ago

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Rules for Spies: Chapter Twelve

Summary: While Azriel and Gwyn work to free Koschei’s captives, attraction turns into something more.

Chapter Word Count: 3,342

Warnings: This chapter has smut and references to past assault, and this fic includes mature consensual sexual situations, references to past assault, and torture.

Art & Banner: cosmikla

All chapters are available on Archive of Our Own. All previous chapters linked here.

It only takes a few minutes to return to the House of Wind, including the short and terrifying flight to land, and Azriel feels as if it passes in a blink. Gwyn presses a kiss to his lips and then she takes her bag to her room, and he realizes that he’ll spend the night alone in his bed again. It’s enough to take her back to Illyria.

But instead he passes a report to Cassian, who informs him that his father came to Velaris in a rage yesterday, and that resolving the ensuing shitshow has taken up all of Rhys’ time since.

When Cassian hears that his step-brother went hunting him in the Illyrian wilds, he groans bone-deep, pressing his face into his hands.

“Rhys was trying to stall him, to give you both time.”

“We don’t need it,” Azriel says, not knowing how much of Gwyn’s power to reveal after seeing her dance around it with Mor the other day, but not wanting to speak any more about his father. Even the thought of his winged figure descending on them in the clearing makes the hair rise on the back of his neck, as though he is still being hunted. “We -- I think we’re ready. For Merrill, at least. We’ll see what information she gives us.”

Cassian only nods. Waiting, as usual, for Azriel to say more. And though he feels so far from that sunlit kitchen of only a few days before, he’s not going to break his promise to Gwyn.

“Gwyn and I started something together,” he says, and before he can say anything else, Cassian whoops and his arms are a crushing weight around Azriel’s shoulders.

“Nesta and I may have placed bets on when you would finally admit that it was happening. After all that touching in the dining room, it was only a matter of time,” his brother says when he’s calmed down slightly, and Azriel is too happy at this particular moment to point out that nothing he and Gwyn have ever done in the dining room could compare to what he’s caught Nesta and Cassian doing on the table. “The two of you… I could always see it, Az. I saw how you looked at her when she cut the ribbon.”

Azriel thinks back to that day a year ago, when he’d known that Gwyn would cut the ribbon even before she did it. How happy he was that she’d triumphed, at the look of joy in her eyes. He should have known then that they were mates.

Instead he and Cassian talk in the sitting room about what has happened in Velaris over the past week, how training is progressing, until Gwyn and Nesta and Emerie emerge, laughing about something that, they say, would take an hour to explain properly.

Mor appears in time for dinner, a box from her favorite pastry shop in her hands, and when Emerie kisses her cheek, the only reaction is a low whistle from Cassian and a corresponding glare from Nesta, a sure sign that the news has spread.

“Rhys wants to see the two of you in the morning,” Mor says to him and Gwyn as they all serve themselves, and Gwyn’s face is instantly a little more somber.

But she brightens quickly enough with the food and the wine and the torte that Mor brought for dessert, and when Emerie suggests a game that she and Mor are fond of playing, it’s not long before he and Gwyn are winning and she’s letting out a pretty scoff at a scowling Nesta.

He’s nearly settled himself into bed when there’s a knock at the door. He knows, just from the weight of her hand, that Gwyn will be standing there, and it makes him happy to be here, at home.

This time, she’s wearing a silk nightgown that reveals her collarbones, her freckled shoulders, the long lengths of her pale, muscled legs. And what isn’t covered by the nightgown is caressed by the soft fabric: her breasts, the flare of her hips. The fabric matches her teal eyes exactly. He wants to rip it off her, replace the clinging fabric with his mouth, his hands. If she were willing, he would kiss his way from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.

“The House had this waiting on my bed,” she says, catching his stare, no doubt scenting his arousal. “Can I come in?”

He opens the door wider for her and she walks inside, scanning the room like a spy, taking in everything without revealing the full scope of her gaze.

“I’m not much for decorating,” he says, knowing full well that the room contains only clothes, weapons, and the latest reports from his spies. Likely it looks barren to her.

“I would have thought you’d have more books.” She settles herself on the bed, his feather duvet giving way under the weight of her, and he moves towards her without thinking.

“Unlike you, I actually return them to the library once I’m done.”

She gasps indignantly even while she reaches out her hand, resting it on her hip bone. She cants her head back to meet his eyes, and he sees no hesitation on her face.

“I sleep so well when you hold me,” she says.

“I do too.” And tonight he wants to hold her, to banish the possibility that he will dream of his father, to feel the sweet warmth of her against his body and let her even breathing lull him back to sleep if he wakes in the night.

“But I also want something else.”

She shrugs her shoulders and the thin silk straps of her nightgown fall away, and as she stands with her fluid grace, the fabric undulates down her body until it’s a teal puddle at her ankles and the whole of her is revealed.

Azriel can’t help staring at her lithe body, her moonglow skin with its scattered freckles like dark stars, the graceful arcs of the shoulders honed by hours of training, the small firm breasts with the nipples that remind him of berries in a bowl of cream, the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips and the copper curls between her legs.

Her scent, that mixture of lemon and lavender and sage that is so unique to Gwyn, is heavy with her own arousal, and he thinks, even while he tries to control himself, that if he touched those curls, dipped his fingers into the flesh beneath, that he would find her slick and hot, ready for him.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice strangled by everything he feels at the sight of her. His gorgeous mate, so brave and determined and brilliant and kind.

She takes a step toward him, and it’s like a spell is broken, because they reach for each other with grasping fingers. Her breath is loud in his ears as she pulls his sleeping shirt around his wings and over his head.

“Can I?” she asks, with her fingers on the waistband of his pants.

He manages to ground out a please, and then her hands are pushing his pants down and he’s groaning as the length of his cock is freed.

He notices that Gwyn is silent, and he pulls his mouth away from her neck.

“It’s just -- you’re supposed to fit inside me?”

And he realizes that this would be her first time. He thought he’d known what the Hybern commander had stolen from her, but he somehow hadn’t known that Gwyn was a virgin until this moment, when he sees the uncertainty in her posture, the fear she tries to hide from him.

He hooks his fingers under her chin, brings her gaze to his face.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight. Or ever. But yes, if you’re ready and you want it, I will fit inside you. And I’ll make sure you enjoy every inch, nightingale.”

He was hoping she’d smile at that, but instead she takes her hands from his hips and covers her face.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I think I’m ready and then -- I hate being weak like this. Especially when I want to be with you and I know… you could be with somebody who could give you everything you want.”

He wants to pull her fingers away from her eyes, but he’s not sure if she would welcome the exposure, so instead, he cups his hands over her shoulders.

“You are the person I want. You are everything I want,” he says. “You are not weak, Gwyn. You are brilliant and brave and you never back down from a challenge. You are the most naturally gifted spy I’ve ever known. Weak is the opposite of what you are. Something was taken from you, horribly, and you should never be ashamed of what you are doing to heal yourself. Of needing more time or space. I will always give you that.”

He hopes she hears the solemn oath in his words, the promise he will always keep to her. No matter what he wants, no matter what his body craves, he will never hurt her, never ask for more than she is ready to give.

Gradually, her fingers relax and her eyes are revealed, sparkling with tears.

“Why are you so kind to me?”

He almost says it then: you’re my mate. But even in all his awkwardness, his lingering bewilderment at the rules of conversation that govern this sunlit world, Azriel knows those aren’t the right words.

Instead he says: “I respect you. And I care for you, so much. How could I do something that will hurt you?”

She reaches for him, her hands clasped at the back of her neck, and when she kisses him, he feels her relax against him. Like something in her is settling into place.

Then she opens her mouth against his lips, her tongue an invitation, her hands stroking the lines of muscle down his back, the place where his wings begin.

“You don’t have to do that.” He pulls away the smallest amount required to get the words out.

“I want to. I still want--”

He’s aware of the naked length and warmth of her against him, the subtle changes in the softness of her skin, the curls of hair between her legs.

The way his cock is pressed against her hipbone, his desire made rudely clear.

“What do you want, nightingale? If you want to go back to your room, I’ll get dressed and walk you back.”

“Don’t get dressed.” Her fingers are tracing his hip, the path created by his muscles, and he has to bite back a groan. “I’m not ready for you to be inside me, for all of it yet, but -- I want to know what an orgasm would be like. What it would be like with you. And I want to touch you. To know what your cock feels like in my hand. To know what sounds you make.”

“You want me to make you come?” Because he wants to hear those exact words on her lips.

“Yes,” she says, and then, maybe his desire is written in the air between them, because she breathes, “I want you to make me come, Azriel.”

He starts by kissing her, his teeth on her lower lip and his fingers lightly skimming the skin of her shoulders, her arms, her back, until she lets out a little sigh, and then he sweeps her hair off her neck and moves his mouth there, licking and and sucking on that fragile skin until her fingers press into his shoulders and she whispers his name.

“All right so far?” he asks, and she pushes his mouth back to the dip in her shoulder. He rewards her with a little bite that makes her let out an adorable breathy oh! His cock throbs in answer but he does his best to ignore it, to focus on what brings her pleasure, on the glowing flush that gilds her cheeks.

When he lets her hair fall against her shoulders, she shivers, and he imagines each silken strand caressing her skin, an extension of his fingers.

Then, even before her reaction has calmed, he cups her breast in his palm, kisses his way down across her chest. She arches her chest against him, seeking friction, and he answers with his callused thumb over her nipple, swirling tiny circles until the rosy nub is peaked and straining, until she moans, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I don’t want you to be quiet,” he says, before he moves his attention to her other breast, this time taking it in his mouth. When she moans louder, tugging his hair, he kisses his way to her navel, and finally he reaches for those copper curls, first simply stroking them, and then, as she steps her feet a little wider to give him access, his fingers slip into the slickness of her sex.

As he strokes her, his fingers exploring her, hot and slick for him, he watches her face carefully, monitors each expression for any hint that she will want to stop. Instead, her head falls back and her toes begin to curl and she moves against him, positioning him over her clit, little noises like sobs rising in her throat with each swirling motion of his fingers.

Even as he touches her, he feels too far away from her. From the beauty and heat of her, nearly undone by him.

“Can I use my mouth?” he asks, the words barely more than a growl.

“Please.”

The need in the word rings through him and he lifts her onto his bed, parting her legs to give him access, and then he licks her, savoring the taste, sweet and musky and bright, the texture of her clit as he runs his tongue against it. Her moans echo inside her body and he can map her pleasure by the way she digs her fingers into his shoulder, her short fingernails pressed tight enough to leave marks. The only person he will allow to touch him like this.

He strokes his hand up the plane of her stomach, cupping her breasts as his mouth fills with the taste and heat of her, his tongue circling her as her pleasure builds and builds, her body going tense until she comes, moaning and bucking her hips against his mouth.

He kisses the insides of her thighs, his hands fitting against her waist as he moves to see the expression on her face.

Gwyn greets him with a lazy smile, the stroke of her fingers against his cheek.

“How was it?”

“Incredible,” she says, her smile going even brighter, her leg crossing over his. “When I touch myself, it’s never like that. That was like -- I don’t even have words.”

He reaches for her, cradling her against his chest.

There is probably something mates should discuss at this moment, something romantic and pure, but instead he asks:

“How do you touch yourself?”

“Usually I’m in bed, in the dark, and I can’t sleep.” Her fingers move over his tattoos, following the swirls of ink, and he imagines them in her sex, the callused fingertips against her slickness. “There was a long time, after the attack, when I tried never to think about that part of my body, but this summer, I started wanting again. And when I started -- the person I’d think of was you.”

“Good,” he says, pulling her hand over the place where his heart beats, unable to stop thinking of her, months ago, coming to an imagined version of himself. Wishing he could have replaced her fingers with his own.

She kisses him on the mouth, and he watches her pink tongue delicately taste the remnants of her orgasm on her lips. The sight of her curiosity, her satisfaction, is enough to make him groan against her mouth.

“Can I touch you now?” Her lips move against his, each word a caress.

“Please.” It’s less a request than a growl, an urging, and Gwyn reaches for him, running her thumb down his length, from the base of his shaft to the tip of his cock, swirling her fingertip in the drop of liquid there, spreading it across his head.

Her pale elegant fingers on him, touching every inch of his cock, are nearly enough to make him explode.

She cups his balls in her palm, studying them with little strokes that make his own pleasure build in the base of his spine, and then her hands are on his cock again and she straddles him, her knees at his hips.

“Show me what to do,” she says, her fingers closing lightly over his cock, and his hand is over hers, showing her the stroke, the pressure he likes.

“You’re a natural,” he says, holding on to his control as best he can. It’s been years since anyone else has touched him, and he can feel the impact of each of her fingers on him.

“So you keep telling me.” There’s that mocking tone he loves, punctuated by a kiss on his mouth, and then her lips are on the head of his cock while her fingers stroke him, her tongue lapping at the tip of him, licking down his length until he’s slick from her mouth, her ocean eyes bright as she watches him, trying to give him everything with those elegant fingers and plump lips, the pink tongue that’s unravelling him.

The pressure and ecstasy keep building at the base of his spine with each stroke of her fingers and swirl of her tongue, rising and rising until, pulling himself out of her mouth, he comes with a roar, golden light flooding his senses, filling the space between them.

He’ll never forget the look of triumph on Gwyn’s face, after, a desultory grin on her lips and triumph in her eyes, her chest marked with his come.

There’s a towel and water on the nightstand, and Azriel should be unnerved by the House’s prescience, but in this moment he’s grateful as he cleans Gwyn’s skin.

“How was it?” she asks as he passes the towel between her breasts.

“Perfect.”

She lets out that lazy smile and pulls him toward her on the bed. He holds her against his chest, loving the press of her bottom against his hips, the surprising fullness of it on her slender frame. His chin rests so easily on the crown of her head.

“I’m realizing everyone probably heard us,” she murmurs. Her cheeks are flushed from the thought, but she still reaches for his hand, their fingers intertwining.

“So far the House has spared us from Cassian and Nesta.” He feels the way her laugh moves through her body. “I think it will do the same for us.”

“At least I told Nesta and Emerie already.”

“I told Cassian.”

They both ask, “How did it go?” in the same moment, and then they laugh, and she says that Nesta and Emerie said they had predicted this for months now and then asked for a lot of details about his wingspan, and that Nesta had won her bet with Cassian.

There’s still Mor to actually tell, and of course Rhys and Feyre, but compared to all the other problems that swirl around them, he’s tempted to think that there are only these admissions to come, only the gentle teasing of his oldest friends. As Gwyn’s breathing evens with the onset of sleep and he covers them with his quilt, Azriel is filled with a warm contentment he’s not sure he’s felt since Amarantha first appeared.

Although his life has trained him to know better, that the monsters will descend or the mission will take some drastic turn or that everything might break between them, Azriel tells himself to ignore that voice inside him and lets himself drift off to sleep, his breath falling into rhythm with Gwyn’s.

Notes: I have a confession, which is that I love writing smutty Gwynriel scenes so much. There are just so many ways they can go, with their respective histories and personalities, and I feel like I could write a hundred of them and each one would be different. But of all the smutty Gwynriel scenes I've written, this is one of my favorites... though there's one coming up that I might like even more.

I'm excited to share it (and the rest of this fic) with you! Thank you so much for reading 🧡

For more theories, thoughts, and occasional sneak peeks, follow me on Instagram at house.of.hurricane or TikTok at houseofhurricane.

Taglist: @almosttenaciousmoon, @azrielbedara, @azrielsdarling13, @books0lover, @brown-and-weird, @camreadsum, @cozycomfyliving08, @girlbossenergy, @gwynrielsupremacy, @hlizr50, @imsointobooks, @katekatpattywack, @lightwood-bane13, @livelyblu, @lola-lightwood, @meher-sumedha, @mystical-blaise, @nervousninjasuit, @onemorenightdreamer, @rubyriveraqueen, @ruthieluvsbooks, @sanniegirl1214, @saramoonbeam, @secretlovelybeauty, @shisingh, @soffiiione, @thenerdywriter, @the-stars-eternal, @trashforazriel, @valkyriesbooks, @vassien-supremacy6, @vikingmagic33, @whoever-you-choose-to-love, @witching-by-the-willow

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

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itsaash · 2 years ago

Text

Fic-o-Ween Day 12: Trick or Treat

Fic-o-ween Day 12: Trick or Treating

Character credit to @lumosinlove and prompt from @noots-fic-fests

Rating: E

...but... I've only included the first half of this fic here on tumblr. The rest, including all the explicit parts, are just on ao3. Partly this just made me feel more comfortable today, that anyone reading the E parts has chosen to click through. Also, it's way too long to scroll through it all on tumblr. So the parts posted here are teen.

Pairings: Coops and James/Lily

Summary: After some sweet Halloween party and trick or treating fluffiness, Sirius, Lily, and Logan change costumes and the party changes to become the type of party that everyone keeps disappearing from.

cws: food/drink mentions, smut, 18+ for full fic

Read on ao3, if you prefer. 7600 words

“Hey Re?” Sirius called out, his hands deep in the dish water, turning pruny and white, washing away the remnants of chicken and rice and vegetables that Remus had made taste actually really good.

“Yeah, baby?” Remus called back.

“You want to have a halloween party here this year?”

“Sure, love. What were you thinking?” Remus walked back into the kitchen, popping his hip against the counter by Sirius, arms crossed.

Sirius’ eyes trailed along Remus’ biceps, then returned to the water.

“Um, I want to hand out candy? Like, I’ve gone with the Dumais trick or treating, and it’s so fun. But I’ve never handed out candy in my own house?” His voice raised up like it was a question, or like he was worried that Remus would think this was unbearably weird.

Remus came up behind him, linking his arms around his ribs in a deep hug.

“That sounds amazing. I would get a few kids from the building when I was in my apartment, but you’re right, it’s not the same as a house. Our house.” He laughed and Sirius felt the rumbling through his back. “We would get hundreds of kids at my place growing up, mom and dad took shifts at the door and would hardly sit down all night.”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah, exactly. I want to do that.”

Remus hummed, smiling into Sirius’ back. “I see one problem though baby, we have a gate, and you’re Sirius Black.”

Sirius dried his hands and turned in Remus’ arms, leaning back against the counter and pulling Remus into his body.

“And you’re Remus Lupin.”

“Mhm. That’s hardly the same thing, but my point remains.”

“I know, I know. I think I might have an idea about that too though?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the night of the party and Sirius had been excitedly decorating all afternoon, planning and shopping for weeks. He didn’t want anyone to do it for him this year. The gates were open, and string lights of tiny pumpkins followed the path up to the front door. He hadn’t chosen any gory decorations, worried that Harry would be scared. He found out later that Harry had loved every single decoration he saw while trick or treating with his parents, so he needn't have worried, but it was his first time decorating himself. He, Remus, James, and Lily had carved pumpkins earlier in the week and now they lined the walkway and doorstep, and there were no less than three blow up decorations scattered around the front yard. But, the best part was the guards.

Sirius gave Fabian a fist bump as he double checked the outside of the house.

“Ready, Fab?”

“Yeah, Cap,” Fabian laughed. “This is going to be awesome.”

Sirius knew he couldn’t have who-knows-who just show up at his front door all night. He hoped the location of their house wasn’t too well known, and it’s not like they advertised that they’d be handing out candy this year. Hopefully, it would just be families who happened to walk by. But just in case, he had asked Fabian and Gideon, twin security guards from the rink, if they’d be willing to work his door for a few hours. They were dressed immaculately like suits of armour. They had helmets that could easily be lifted up or down and their faces were painted silver, their costumes rang satisfyingly when you knocked on the breastplates, and they were ready to scare the everloving shit out of trick or treaters (in the most fun way possible). Sirius hoped they would blend in with the decorations when the sun went down, the twins were eerily good at standing still. Jump scare at the right moment, and hopefully no one would notice the person handing out candy looked a bit familiar.

“Should we have an age limit of who we scare?” Gideon asked.

“Well, maybe don’t make babies cry,” Sirius laughed. “And don’t let anyone try to get into my house, and we’ll be good.”

“No problem, Cap. It’s going to be awesome.”

“And maybe try to scare Pots? Or Dumo?”

Fabian and Gideon laughed. “We’ll try, Cap.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus wasn’t sure the last time he had seen Sirius smile so much, for so long. He had been prancing around, decorating, plotting with Gid and Fab, touching up the spiderweb placement all over the house and setting out the ingredients for Halloween themed cocktails. He had bought more candy (full sized chocolate bars, of course) than Remus was sure they’d need for two Halloween’s, and he made sure to have options that were gluten free, sugar free, peanut free. Remus had happily made some dips and set out chips, and also happily watched Sirius smile, and laugh, and live in his house like it was a home. Their home. Watching Sirius come down in a full Batman suit wasn’t bad either.

The top of his face was covered in the full mask and he had a costume that looked like it could have come from the movie set. Remus laughed.

“Holy shit, baby, you look amazing.”

Batman came close, smile wide, and hugged Remus tightly.

“Ouais? Is my secret identity safe?”

“You know, I really think it is. People could think that your muscles are padding in the costume, so not even your buffness gives you away,” Remus teased, trailing his hands appreciatively over Sirius’ (unpadded) shoulders and arms.

Remus was exquisitely happy that the costume left Sirius’ lips free, and he pressed up on his toes to capture them in a kiss. Sirius licked into his mouth, pressing their bodies together.

“My buffness, eh?” Sirius smiled into the kiss.

“Shut up,” Remus argued weakly.

“Ready for a good Halloween, mon loup?”

“Mhm, yes. I still want you to be a firefighter again some year when I can do something about it.” Remus murmured between kisses.

“I’m sure I could be convinced. Maybe we’ll sneak up to our room together this year, instead of you snooping on your own,” Sirius growled, pressing his hips towards Remus.

“I’m not sure going to our own room, in our own house, during a party we’re hosting, has quite the same hook up appeal as you’re implying,” Remus laughed.

“But I never got to hook up with boys at parties before,” Sirius pouted, resting their foreheads together, arms still locked around each other.

“Oh we can hook up,” Remus said softly, right into Sirius’ ear. “Just not in our own bed.”

Sirius groaned, dropping his head back, then smiled impishly. “I look forward to it.”

“Ok, baby, I have to go get my costume on now,” Remus said, pushing away. Sirius watched him all the way up to the stairs, before remembering that he was filling the coolers with ice. He had a party to finish prepping for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James bounced around the house, taking his cowboy hat on and off his head repeatedly. He made sure the black button nose painted on Harry's nose was perfect and redid the whiskers that Harry had smudged in the last three minutes. He grabbed the pumpkin bucket for collecting candy, and a pillowcase for the overflow, all the while taking dozens of pictures. He loved Halloween. Dressing up, choosing an adorable costume for Harry, seeing Lily in a costume that she always made look sexy, whether it was meant to be or not. Candy, parties, visiting neighbours and talking to the people at each house. It was the best. It was funny that the holiday that was supposedly the wicked holiday was the one where you knock on your neighbour’s doors, say hello, exchange presents and small talk. Just, you know, in costume.

He and Lily took Harry and the wagon around to the houses near them. By the end of their short route Harry was sitting in the wagon, completely surrounded by candy, having dumped out his bucket into the wagon to wade through it like a ball pit of candy. They made their way to Sirius’ house, Harry vibrating in his car seat on a sugar high. James could relate.

“We see Loops, mama?” Harry said, though it sounded adorably more like “whoops”.

“Yes, baby, we’re going to Loops’ house,” Lily answered.

“And seerus! And bwiz! And Katie!” Harry went on like this, listing his friends, until they pulled into the driveway.

“Wowza,” James whistled. “Cap went all out with the decorations.”

“Looks amazing,” Lily agreed. She eyes the door and the decorated front step. “You head in with the bags, love. I’ll grab Harry.”

James grabbed their bags from the back and pressed his hat down over his eyes, looking forward to giving Cap a “howdy partner,” in his best southern accent when he got to the door.

Instead, he nearly had a fucking heart attack.

“Aarghhh!” yelled the statues on either side of the door, and James startled so badly he stumbled backwards nearly falling. His sluggish hindbrain eventually realized the statues weren’t attacking him and he took a knee, like he was listening to coach at practice. He dipped his head down, trying to recover, shaking his head, not sure whether his body wanted him to run, cry, or laugh. After a few deep breaths with his heart racing like he’d played three shifts, and with laughter ringing through the air around him, he finally looked up.

“Fab?” he asked, still bewildered.

“Pots! Your face ,” Fabian laughed. They were both bent over double, laughing, in their stupid fucking perfect suit of armour costumes.

“What the fuck?” James asked, betrayed. “Sirius put you up to this?”

“What’s going on out here…?” Sirius opened the door, coming out to see Gid and Fab still laughing and James still down on one knee. “No! I missed it?” He turned to Fabian, “Did you get him good?”

“So good, Cap, he was completely fucking got, he had no clue.”

“Of course I had no clue! How could I expect to be betrayed at my best friend’s house? What if I had been holding Harry?”

“Well we wouldn’t have done it, if you were holding Harry.”

James shook his head and turned to Sirius.

“Did you set this up just to get me? I will put oil in your gloves.”

“Non, no! They’re here to guard the door, and do that to trick or treaters all night,” he waved vaguely in James’ scared-as-shit position. “Getting you was just a bonus.”

“Bonus,” Jame repeated, finally feeling steady enough to rise to his feet. Lily and Harry joined him then. Lily ran her hand over his lower back soothingly. “Lily, they scared me.”

Lily reached up to tap his cheek. “Happy Halloween lover,” she teased.

“I wanna be scar’d!” Harry squealed, and Fab and Gid played at being still and then jumping at Harry for 10 minutes at least. James followed Lily into the house, her tight black batman costume irresistible to follow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius bounced between answering the door, making cocktails, laughing with his friends. Seeing all the little kids in their costumes was priceless. He loved having his friends over anytime, but getting to intersperse the party with answering the door to adorable yells of “trick or treat!” made it even better. He and Remus took turns answering the door, or would call to each other if there was an especially cute costume to look at. He loved the moments when Gid and Fab would go still again, and another group would come up the path while one was still at the door, and the first group would eagerly watch the next set of people fall victim to the jump scare. It was the circle of scares.

At 9:00 Sirius closed his gate and waved goodbye to Gid and Fab, wishing them a Happy Halloween. He didn’t want to try his luck, and the little kids were the cuter ones to see at the door anyways. And he had a phase two of his night planned that did not include other people at his door.

He came in, stretched his back, popping it satisfyingly. A smile grew on his face and he found Logan, hitting him in the stomach.

“Gate’s closed, Tremz. The party can start for real now, eh?”

Logan’s eyes met Sirius’ and their eyes sparkled.

“What the fuck was that look?” Finn asked, looking between them. “Aren’t we already partying?”

“Oui, of course, Harz. I’ll just go get another drink,” Logan said, and walked away with Sirius, leaving Finn looking suspiciously after them.

Sirius went and found Lily next.

“Hey Lils,” he said, flopping onto the couch by her and Marlene.

“Hey Batman. Good party,” she said, tipping her glass to him.

“Merci. Harry downstairs?” “Yep, Adele and her friend have turned out to be excellent babysitters and they’re all playing or watching a movie. I’m sure he’ll be crashing soon.”

“Excellent. Phase two?”

The side of Lily’s mouth quirked up and she laughed.

“Absolutely.”

“What the hell is phase two?!” Marlene called after them, as the two versions of Batman walked away, laughing with zero chill.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#fic o ween 2022 #sweater weather #lumosinlove #halloween party #writing these fics lately has been super fun #but back to editing next podfic now!#It's 94% recorded :)#did anyone guess what it is?

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