#linking a playlist i found on the replies wait

[siontual]

omg would you be willing to give me some bangla song reccs :O !!

ofc, do u know my mother language is known to be the sweetest language in the world!!!! it's a fact from google 💘 here are some songs out of so so many!!

[lacedinweb22]

Drunk and Crushing (Pt. 2) (Miguel O’Hara x reader)

🕸️ Entangled Series 🕸️ ch. 5 prev part

Summary: After you escape the chaos of the party and find shelter in the downstairs bathroom with Miguel, you get bold. You’re both drunk and vulnerable. Your feelings are impossible to ignore… or hide.

CW: self sabotage, retching, oblivious & painful character behavior, drunkenness >:)

Author’s note: I made this playlist of muffled tracks that I listened to NONSTOP while writing this chapter! PLEASE listen to them in the playlist’s order while reading! They fit the scenes so WELLL and the lyrics match the mood perfectly ❤️‍🔥

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrEXY2MI6p5edEO8pLnkNilq65067VNUu

✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

We found an unoccupied bathroom downstairs. There was still an overwhelming amount of drunk university students filling the house, but this shelter sufficed. Kendrick Lamar’s “LOVE” played, muffled and seeping through the walls. I sat myself on the bathtub edge, feeling myself get heavier; the drunkenness had creeped up on me.

I paused my overwhelming thought traffic and looked up at Miguel, who was leaning back against the sink counter. He gripped the edge of the counter; his fingers tightly flexed, displaying his muscular, bruised up hands.

The restroom was dark, lit only by a small purple lamp; there was still enough light to see the pink in my cheeks and the red and purple in his knuckles.

He looked down at me as I scanned his entire figure: his muscles, scars, his clothes. I circled back to his eyes; he was so much higher above me, his gaze looking down on me. It felt so… dirty. He tilted his head at me, questioning my gaze. I looked away nervously, realizing how it looked. I looked down at the soda can still in my hand.

“This can is so dented, did you drop it?” I asked, laughing. He looked at the can, then back at me, “No, yes, I– yeah, I dropped it. Some douche bumped into me,” he explained, suspiciously slow. “Hmph,” I scoffed. “Wait a minute… that reminds me, wheredidyou go earlier formysoda? You were gone forawhile. You just disappeared. You’vebeendoingthat alotlately. Disappearing. Ditching me.” The slurred words escaped me so easily.

“I…a… friend called me outside to… deal with this fight that was breaking out, and I… had to stop it. So I, you know, went out and reasoned with them, worked it out,” he explained, nodding, reassuring himself that his story was believable. I continued, “Mmmmkay… and our study date– sessions you couldn’t make it to? That you canceled on or ditched after a few minutes? What’s the excuse for those?” “I told you, my brother has a shitty car and I’m the one he calls to work on it.” I rolled my eyes. “Gabriel’s a fucking tech god. A literal engineer, right? But okay, sure, whatever you say Miguel,” I muttered, shaking my head, and rubbing my tired eyes.

“I mean if you have… like a girl, or… a sneakylink, or whatever just fucking say it. I mean it’sfine, O’Hara, you’re my friend. We can talk about thesekindsofthings,” I insisted, bitterly.

“There’s absolutely no girl,” he replied, firmly. “The only girl, who is actively in my life— who I want in my life, is you. You’re the girl, okay? You’re the sneakylink minus thesneaky. You’re the link. But not sex, I mean you’re thegirl I want to hangoutwith–” he drunkenly blurted.

“I’m the girl?” I repeated, hiding my smile in my hands. Though I didn’t believe he was gone breaking up a fight, my pounding heart overpowered my confusion; listening to him stumble over his words made my stomach burst with butterflies. “So you–” or with alcohol. I dropped to my knees and puked into the toilet. “Fuck, Y/N,” Miguel exclaimed, as he dropped to the floor with me. He brushed my hair back and held it in his hand. I groaned. Yep, I’m fucked. I’m so drunk. He rubbed my back. He grabbed his water bottle and aided it to my lips.

“I mean since we’re asking all these questions, who was that guy you met up with earlier?” he asked, still holding my hair. “Mmm funny you assume it was a guy… do you mean Jenn?” I breathed out into the toilet bowl, ready to vomit again. He breathed out, relieved. “Whatwas that?” I questioned, turning around looking up at him. “What, what?” he replied, acting clueless. “You breathed out like ughhhHHHHH,” I mimicked.

“Shhhh! Stop moaning, people are going to think we’re fucking in here. They’re right outside the door,” he blurted out, trying to shush me. I’m so drunk. My body was not obeying me. Maybe the subconscious version of me deep inside, but not the me I needed it to obey.

“I wish we were.” FUCK. I caught myself, “I wishwewere… back home” FUCK. “At my apartment so we couldddd play videogames. Hahaha yeah…” I finished off quietly, staring at him, waiting for him to shut me down. Fucking drunk idiot, stop talking, shut up. His eyebrows knit together as his eyes explored my face, trying to decipher the words slurring out of my mouth. “Okay, Y/N,” he breathed out, brushing my hair back, “you’re…drunk,” he said, looking at my hair in his hands. I hate him. My head felt heavier.

I could absolutely not keep my thoughts inside. Fucking drunk word vomit.

My eyes brushed his. God I wish you knew. “God I wish you knew.”

“Knew what?” he responded, his eyes reignited with curiosity. “What?” I responded. “You said you wish I knew,” he responded, grabbing my shoulder, trying to shake the drunkenness and truth out of me.

“Oh shit, was that out… loud?” I breathed out, holding back my vomit. “I don’tknow maybe that… I wish you knewwhatIwasthinking, or maybe I wishyoufeltwhat I feel…” I closed my eyes, my mouth defeated my common sense. “I mean come ONNN, Miguel, you’re so good at physics, and shit, but you– you don’t see this? You solve all those equations, but you can’t figure this out? Nope, obliviousMiguel, hahahhshsifhmm, remember when you called me oblivious? Ironic,” I slurred, smiling with my eyes closed.

I leaned into the toilet again to retch. I barfed what seemed like a gallon of soda and tequila. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, holding my hair and rubbing my back. “I’m sorry, this is my fault, I should’ve been watching you, I-I should have watched how much you drank,” he scolded himself. He sat on his knees behind me, much taller than me, then lowered his head to rest on my shoulder, still holding my hair. His cheek pressed against the back of my shoulder, then he slowly turned, his lips now pressing against me. He’s drunk. My face remained hovering into the toilet. There was a lot going on.

“Ugh that was it. That was the one,” I groaned. I started to stand up, as Miguel remained on his knees. He wrapped his big hands around my waist to help me up. Once I stood up, I chugged mouthwash and rinsed the bitter taste away. I turned to find Miguel sitting on the floor, against the wall, staring at me, longingly. His eyes were darker, different. His cheeks were pink, his face dewy.

“I’m feeling it,” he muttered, looking up at me. I walked over to him, standing above him, as he looked up at me. “Very good. Now we can be in the same place,” I said, mischievously smiling down at him.

“We’ve always beenin thesame place, just at different times… I don’t know what I’m saying,” he groaned as he rested his face in his hands. I handed him the water bottle. “Drink some, Mig.” He nodded and drank.

“I feel so gross and sweaty,” I groaned. “Is it weird to shower here? I’ll ask Lizzie,” I muttered. I strained my brain power to call Lizzie to ask if I could use the shower. This shower should sober me up. It needs to.

“I got the greenlight!!” I exclaimed to Miguel. He remained silently sitting resting his face in his hands. I crouched down in between his legs. “Mig, are you okay?” “Just tired, and… drunk,” he breathed out.

“Okay, I’m gonna take a shower, but you sit here. Give me five minutes.” He got up, closed the toilet, and sat. I stood in front of him, as he remained sitting on the toilet. He watched and seemingly admired me as I pinned my hair up.

“I’m going to change my clothes in the shower, before I turn on the water. Do you think I could hand you my clothes?” I asked. He nodded, with loyal puppy dog eyes.

I took off my socks and shoes then got into the tub and closed the shower curtain. “Fuck, it’s slippery,” I gasped, almost slipping. “Be careful. No, wait, you’re drunk. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” he responded, his voice getting louder as he stood up. I could see his shadow through the curtain. “I’ll be fine,” I responded. I began taking off my jewelry and placing it into his hand, which peeked through the curtain as he looked away.

I then took off my dress, and handed it to him. Then my bra, and finally my underwear.

“You’re so obedient,” I teased, giving him my panties. I placed it slowly into his hand. I watched his fingertips feel for a hint of what he was feeling, then his grip tightened as he finally looked down to see what it was. “Yeah… well, that’sthe effect you haveonme,” he slurred as he looked down at my lace underwear. He quickly looked back up and placed it on the counter without looking. He’s drunk.

“Shit Miguel, it’s catching up to you, I mean it caught up to you” I laughed, as I started the water and stood in the corner of the shower, peeking out at him. He sat back down, looking at his hands in his lap. The steam began to fill the restroom.

I heard shuffling and peeked to find Miguel taking off his moto jacket. He was now just wearing his snug form-fitting t-shirt. His back muscles were so fucking visible now. I watched him from behind the curtain, his muscles flexing as he adjusted his shirt. I admired his huge biceps being squeezed through the snug cotton sleeves, and his veiny forearms resting in his lap. It’s like he’s testing the durability of his fucking shirt.

He took a deep breath then looked back up at me to find me watching him. “Sorry– I,” I muttered as he immediately looked back down at his hands as I closed the curtain and started to soak myself in the warm water.

I stared at the tile walls when a huge shadow towered over me through the curtain. “Miguel? Are you… there, and okay?” I asked, nervously. “I just need… to stand up. I’m fucked up,” he muttered. I peeked out of the curtain. He was pacing back and forth in the small restroom, his eyes furrowed as he stretched an arm across his chest. He looked at me, his gaze softened, then nervously looked down and turned around to keep pacing.

I rinsed off then turned off the water. “Miguel, could you–” “Here,” he replied as he handed me a towel through the curtains. “Okay, I’m goingto come out, but you’re going to need to close your eyes,” I warned. “Got it,” he replied. “Are they closed?” “Yes.”

I slowly got out of the tub, and stood on the mat. He was facing me, eyes closed. I dried off, then took off my towel and hung it up. As I let my hair down and slowly slid my underwear on, I felt a burst of daringness. That shower didn’t sober me up enough. “Can you help me… ummm put my bra on?” I muttered. “What? Your–” “Bra, yes. And you also need to zip my dress up. That’s the Y/N-coming-to-a-party-with-you tax,” “so this is a commonly paid tax,” he muttered. Is he jealous? I smiled at the thought. “You’re so dumb. No. Only you,” I muttered, as I watched his lips fight a smile, “Miguel, just… shut up and help me.” I grabbed his hands, as his eyes remained closed and put them on my shoulders.

“Okay, see here are myshoulders. I’m going toturnaround, then youaregoing to go down to myback and feelmybra and hookit okay?” I breathed out. “Okay,” he responded, quietly. I turned around as his hands brushed my back. He moved my hair to the side of my neck, then traced his fingers down my back to find my bra. His warm, calloused hands brushed against my skin. Chills shot through my body. “Fuck,” I breathed out, accidentally. “What? What did I do?” he asked quickly. “Nothing, I was just— nothing,” I blurted. He scoffed then took a deep breath.

He hooked it. “Okay, now dress,” I pulled the dress up, and turned for him to zip it from the back. “Reach your hands out again,” I instructed. His hands touched my hair, then brushed down to the zipper right above my ass. His knuckles brushed my underwear then up my back as he zipped it slowly.

I turned around. His eyes were still closed, his cheeks growing pink. I tiptoed so I was closer to his face. I looked up at his lips. I could kiss him so easily right now. His eyebrows scrunched, “Are you almost ready? Is it okay?” he whispered. “Mhmm,” I whispered back, facing him. I leaned closer to his lips. He breathed through his nose, his warm breath caressing my lips. I want to kiss you so bad. I took a deep breath. You’re drunk. I lowered my heels back to the ground.

“You can look now,” I sighed, as I looked in the mirror and fixed my smudged eyeliner.

He watched me, his reflection in my peripheral vision. He sat back on the toilet and turned to watch me put my necklaces on.

I finished, then walked to him. I stood in between his legs. He looked up at me then down at my neck. “I like the new one. I see you replaced the one you gave me,” he whispered, pulling the black cord necklace I gave him from out under his shirt. I traced my fingertips around it, smiling down at him. He still wears it. He raised his fingertips to my neck then whispered, “Can I?” I nodded. I kneeled down, our faces now level to each other.

He traced his fingers along my necklace. “So beautiful,” he whispered, looking at my necklace then up to my lips.

I leaned closer into him. His fingertips traced from my necklace to my cheek, caressing my burning, flushed skin. This is so new. I sighed, my stomach overwhelmed with butterflies.

“I can hear your heart racing,” he whispered. “What— how?” I whispered, putting my hand on my chest to feel it. “I… have great hearing, you know this, my senses are impeccable,” he replied, shrugging. “If only your amazing senses extended to mind reading,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“You know, Y/N, I can read you… most of the time,” he said, brushing my hair out of my face. “Okay, then what am I thinking right now?” “I have my guesses,” he replied, looking at my lips then up into my eyes. His longing eyes painted him desperate. Does he mean it? What is he thinking?

Miguel leaned in; I followed, leaning in slowly, our lips close to touching. Is he going to do what I was too scared to? His thumb traced my cheek, as he looked back and forth between my lips and eyes.

Our lips finally met.

And it was everything I dreamt it to be. The kiss was warm, and raw, no holding back, just drunk honest passion. His lips were soft, and he tasted like dr. pepper. He’s so addictive; I want to stay here forever. No confusion, or self-doubt, just him and I in our small corner of this chaotic party.

I stroked his face, then combed my fingers into his waves, my thumb never losing contact with his cheek. The kiss intensified as he grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, and kissing me harder.

Eventually, to my disappointment, our lips gently parted.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, “I’ve wanted this… for so long,” he whispered, his eyes drowsy. I searched his gaze. He looked like he meant it. But he’s drunk. A wave of anxiety crashed onto me, disrupting the bliss I had been chasing for so long.

He doesn’t want me. He’s drunk. This shouldn’t have happened like this.

“You don’t mean that, no, we can’t– we can’t,” I groaned, pulling away. “Yes, we can… Why not?” he replied softly and drunkenly, his eyes still drowsy. His hand reached to mine as he held it in between us.

He read my face then looked at me worriedly, snapping out of it. “Fuck, I’m sorry, was that not okay? Did I–” he rambled, panicking. “I’m sorry, I’m drunk… you know, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” I whispered.

“Well that sucks. I… really wish you did,” he muttered, looking at me, confused.

I remained on my knees, looking down at my hand in his. His eyes were stuck on mine, trying to read me.

Overwhelming silence filled the small restroom; not even the music bleeding into the room could save us.

I reasoned desperately, “I just– I know you don’t want this, you know? I know you don’t like me like that… you don’t mean it— I know you don–”

His eyebrows furrowed, “And why couldn’t I like you? How would you know?” he asked, irritated. I pulled my hand from his as I stood up, away from him.

“Because, you don’t want this! You’re drunk, Miguel. You don’t get to have this when you’re drunk and it’s fun and convenient for you since I’m the only one around,” I blurted, angrily.

I looked down at him; he looked up at me confused. He closed his eyes, looked down, took a deep breath, then whispered, “Y/N, you don’t know what I want. I want you— and I’m confused, why can’t you just let me… I want you. Why can’t we try, why can’t we just give this–”

“Miguel, you’re not getting it. I am just a spur of the moment type of thing to you! This is real to me, and to you this is just drunkenness–”

“Y/N, I’m not–”

“Yes, Miguel, you are drunk,”

“Stop putting words into my mouth! I am drunk but I want you, sober or not!”

Silence.

“I just… I have to feel this way, everyday. These feelings of desperation, an-and longing for you every single moment of every single day every time I see you, knowing I can’t have you, and you don’t want me like that… this isn’t fair,” I exclaimed, turning around to the sink, “You disappear, you come back, cheeks flushed, I mean, Miguel, who were you really with? Who do you leave me for? Stop lying to me, just tell me the truth, that’s all I want, just tell me…”

I looked down, trying to control my anger and the tears I felt welling up. “Forget it, forget it.” I can’t handle the lies he’s going to feed to me. Or the truth.

He stood up, hovering over me as I cried silently over the sink. “Did you not see all 100 frat boys watching you walk into here? Do you not see me trying to keep you near me, away from them? There’s only you—” he argued, drunkenly but still firmly. “God, Miguel, everyone was looking at you! How fucking oblivious are you? Everyone that wants you and everyone who wishes they were being looked at by all of those beautiful girls. They. Were. Looking. At. You,” I exclaimed. “They’re jealous I’m with YOU,” he exclaimed back. He’s fucking delusional. “Sure, yeah, that makes alotttt of sense! Yeah, definitely,” I scoffed. “You’re ridiculous,” he sharply replied, turning away.

I sighed and shook my head. He doesn’t get it.

Or maybe I just ruined everything.

“I–I have to go, I need to– need to go home,” I whispered as I reached for the door. His hand grabbed my wrist.

“No, just… stay,” he whispered.

I turned and looked up at him. He stood against me, his hand still gripping my wrist. He looked down at me, his eyebrows furrowed upwards, begging me, “Please,” he continued, “this one time… for me.”

That could be enough for me to stay.

I looked down and closed my eyes. Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Y/N, we can’t say ‘goodnight’ and still be mad at each other,” he explained, “Can you listen to me, can you just let me explain–”

The door began to rattle against my back as someone knocked violently on the other side. Miguel sighed as we both moved out of the way and opened the door. A couple looked at us grumpily. We both grabbed our stuff then left the restroom.

I sped walked through the crowd.

“Y/N, please, let’s just talk some– somewhere quiet, just the two of us. You can’t leave upset, that’s our #1 rule, and I don’t want you walking alone, especially not after what happened last month,” he called out behind me.

I turned around, as we stood in a large crowd looking across at each other. The neon lights lit up his face in the dark. If I wasn’t so drunk, and so upset with him, if I ignored the truth, the fact that he’s hiding something from me, I would kiss him. I would let the lights and the music blind and deafen me, because it wouldn’t matter. All I would feel is him. But I am drunk, and I know he’s lying.

We were in a chaotic bubble of people pushing and drinking, but I could only see him. He looked at me desperately, as I kept my face stern. “Y/N, I’ll explain— why I’ve been disappearing, I just—” “You don’t need to. Not anymore. I can’t keep pretending this ‘us’ and ‘ours’ thing isn’t tearing me up inside. And… it’s fine, I’ll be fine. I need to be alone.”

I walked out, called a cab, and waited outside on the lawn surrounded by loud drunk people. I cried, hugging myself as I watched Miguel walk drunkenly, down the street and into the night.

to be continued…

next part

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 12 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2059 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

And then, I realized what my decision was. I understood that the band was more than just an important project; it was what brought the five of us together, it was the beat of our hearts, and how desperately, truly desperately, we wanted it to succeed - because it had to, no matter what. And my role in all of it was to support them in the best way I could; even if it broke my heart.

✦ summary: Metallica's career begins to advance and Nore makes a difficult decision to help the future of the band.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst (mild), fluff, cliff burton & female!oc (family)

✦ a/n: hello! i'm posting this chapter a little earlier because i'll be traveling over the weekend. we'll be finally seeing a bit of plot development on this one hehe I'm posting at a slower pace because writing has been slow too, but I hope you like it! Feedback is welcome <3

✧ Innocence was our fire / We told the truth / I miss the sweet boys in the summer of their youth ✧

"Alright, everyone!" Lars exclaimed, grinning, and I looked up, curious. "It's band meeting time."

It was early evening, and I was chilling in the living room with Cliff, snuggled up in Dave's arms while he mindlessly watched some random TV show. That's when Lars and James walked in, both looking very pleased about something. I slipped out of Dave's embrace, making him grumble in protest, and stood up - usually, I didn't stick around for the guys to discuss band stuff because it bored me a bit and I wanted to give them some privacy. 

“Stay, Nore.” James flashed me a smile, and I sat back down, surprised. "I think you'll like to hear this firsthand."

I gave Dave a questioning look, but he just shrugged, seeming as intrigued as I was. James settled next to me on the couch while Lars headed to the kitchen, returning quickly with a bottle of vodka and some shot glasses. 

"Are we celebrating something or do you guys just want to start drinking early?" Cliff raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk on his face. Lars chuckled. 

"You'll find out if you let me tell you," he said, and Cliff rolled his eyes. "Alright, you know we've been on the hunt for a producer for our album, right? Well, here's the good news: we finally found a guy who's down to produce the album with us."

"Lars, that's awesome!" I exclaimed as Dave shouted excitedly.

“Wait a sec.” Cliff interjected. “You said you were starting with the good news. What's the bad news?”

"Oh, right." James chuckled nervously. "The producer is based in New Jersey. And if we want to kick off the production, we'll have to go there." 

"What?" Dave asked, incredulous. "How? With what cash? New Jersey is on the other side of the fucking country!" 

"Yeah, thanks for the geography lesson, Einstein." Lars replied sarcastically, and Dave furrowed his brow. "Look, don't we have some money stashed from our gigs? We can rent a van and hit the road. But it needs to be soon 'cause the guy wants to get things rolling quick." 

"This is insane." Dave answered. "We don't even have that much money, man. We should find someone local." 

"Well, James and I have already made up our minds. So you can either get on board or we can find a new guitar player." Lars said, a smug grin on his face.

I raised my eyebrows, feeling uneasy, as Dave removed his arm from around my shoulders and clenched his fists, glaring at Lars. I could sense that he was restraining himself from starting a fight right then and there. 

"Yeah, I think we should go." Cliff interrupted, cutting through the tense atmosphere in the room. "Come on, Dave. We've been trying to land a producer for this shit for ages."

Dave looked around, seemingly realizing that pushing further wouldn't get him anywhere, so he let out a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes. 

"Fine, whatever. I'll talk to my boss, see if he can lend me some cash or something." 

"Great." Lars said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to Dave's discontent. "Which brings us to another question. Whether Nore will be joining us or not." 

"Me?" I asked, taken aback. Dave furrowed his brow once again. 

"What do you mean ' whether she's going or not '? Of course she's going!" 

"Hold on, dude. We don't even have a plan on how to get there yet." James chimed in. "We're tight on cash and we don't have a place to crash. It's not exactly the safest option for a girl. But hey, it's your call." He looked at me, and I met his gaze, unsure of what to say. 

I tried to gather my thoughts, but my mind was in a whirlwind. On one hand, I really wanted to go. I didn't want to be stuck alone in San Francisco, away from Cliff, Dave, James, and even Lars. They had become such a big part of my life in the past few months, and I couldn't imagine being without their company anymore. On the other hand, James had a point; money was tight, and there were sure to be other expenses along the way. It was a risky venture, and I didn't want to burden any of them.

"You could crash at Lea's place while we're gone," Cliff suggested, clearly trying to help. I let out a sigh and shook my head. 

"I... I need some time to think," I mumbled. 

"Alright, then! You can decide later. Let's celebrate!" Lars exclaimed, getting up with excitement and grabbing the vodka. 

I let out another sigh. This had all the potential to be a happy moment, but it wasn't, at least not for me. I felt torn and stressed. Dave still seemed a little annoyed with Lars. Cliff and James were both staring at me, Cliff looking concerned and James examining my face in a way that made me shift my gaze. 

I couldn't be there right then. I needed some alone time. I stood up and made my way to the backyard, running a hand through my hair as I leaned against the porch railing and lit up a cigarette.

"Are you alright?" 

I looked up and found James leaning against the doorframe, his piercing blue eyes staring at me, filled with concern. I let out a sigh. 

"I... I don't know, James. It was a lot to take in all at once. And Lars..." 

"Oh, he's a pain in the ass during band meetings. Forgot you're not used to it," he said with a smirk, coming closer. I chuckled softly. 

"I don't know if I should go," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I don't want to be a burden or disturb anyone." 

"You're not a burden," he reassured me. "You're the best thing that's happened to us." 

I looked up, surprised, meeting his sincere gaze. It always amazed me how effortlessly we became friends, how he had become one of my closest companions once we got past the initial shyness. And how much he meant to me. 

He reached out and lightly touched my arm, appearing slightly awkward. He was so close, close enough that I could see every detail of his face in the dim porch light. I felt my cheeks heat up a bit, not quite understanding why. He pulled me into a hug, holding me tight. I chuckled softly, burying my face in his chest. 

"No matter what you decide, we'll be there for you," he said, his voice muffled. I nodded. "But just know, if you don't go, I'll fucking miss you." 

"I'll miss you guys too," I murmured. 

And then, I realized what my decision was. I understood that the band was more than just an important project; it was what brought the five of us together, it was the beat of our hearts, and how desperately, truly desperately, we wanted it to succeed - because it had to, no matter what. And my role in all of it was to support them in the best way I could; even if it broke my heart, even if it meant staying behind to lighten, even just a bit, the weight of that next step for everyone. 

They were leaving, but I would stay in San Francisco.

I sighed, eyes closed, feeling the gentle pressure of Dave's lips against mine. He cupped my face in his hands, his weight on top of me on the bed as he kissed me slowly. It felt good, but my mind was elsewhere. It was late at night, and I had sneaked into Dave's room while everyone else was asleep. 

I hadn't told him yet about my decision to stay in San Francisco while they went on their trip. I knew how much he wanted me to go, and even though I was confident it was the right choice, I couldn't shake off the anxiety of being away from everyone for an unknown length of time. I opened my eyes as he pulled back, and I noticed his intrigued gaze fixed on me.

"What's wrong?" I asked in a hushed voice. 

"You look worried . What aren't you telling me?" he asked, gently. I sighed.

"Am I that easy to read?" I asked, and he chuckled softly, shifting to lie beside me. I snuggled into his arms, burying my face in the crook of his neck. 

"It's about what Lars said, right? About the trip?" he whispered. 

"Yeah, it is," I spoke quietly. "Dave, I... I think I'm gonna stay."

I didn't know how I expected him to react. I didn't know if he would be sad or angry. But a wave of relief washed over me when he lifted my chin with his hand, kissing me gently on the lips once, twice, three times before pulling away and looking at me with his brown eyes.

"I wish you’d come," he said in a low voice. "But if you think it's best to stay, I get it."

"I think I can help you guys more by staying around here," I whispered. "It's the right call, I think."

"But you don't look too thrilled about it," he remarked with a slightly vexed smile. I nodded. 

"I'll miss you, Dave," I whispered. "All of you." 

"I'll miss you too, babe," he whispered back, placing a tender kiss on my temple. "Damn, if I could, I'd never spend a day away from you." I let out a soft chuckle at his words. "I love you, Nore." 

"I love you too, Dave," I replied, letting him pull me into a tight embrace against his chest. Right then, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world, but it didn't help much when I remembered how sad I was knowing that soon I would have to be away from him.

"Hey, you know what? I've got an idea," he said, grinning, clearly trying to lift my spirits. "Why don't we go out, just you and me? Spend the day together, do something fun." 

I looked at him, a smile spreading across my face as some of my excitement returned.

"Are you talking about a date?" I teased. He chuckled. 

"Yeah, I guess so. I just thought it would be nice to have some quality time with you before I take off. What do you say?" 

"I think it's awesome," I beamed, then wrapped my arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his lips. "You're the best boyfriend ever." 

"I do my best," he grinned, leaning in for another kiss. "But it's easy when I've got an amazing girlfriend like you."

A few days before the guys left for New Jersey, Dave came home and handed me a bunch of keys. I looked at him, puzzled. 

"What's this?" 

"Well..." he plopped down next to me on the couch, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. "Remember our talk about spending a day together? I've got some plans. And… I may have rented a beach cottage for us." 

"Dave! You shouldn't be wasting your money on this," I objected, though a smile involuntarily crept onto my face. 

"Hey, no worries. I just want to see my girl happy. Plus, since I'll be away for a while... I promise I won't let you get a wink of sleep," he smirked mischievously. I looked away, feeling my cheeks flush, and he let out a soft chuckle at my reaction. 

"Hey, you two," Lars called out, entering the room with James. "James, Cliff, Lea, and I are hitting up the bar. You guys wanna come along?" 

"Hell yeah, count me in," Dave jumped up, brimming with excitement, and I followed suit.

Many years later, I would remember that time as one of the happiest in my life. We enjoyed that night as if it were our last; we laughed together, danced together, had fun together, and drank together. Somehow, despite all the unspoken tensions that were slowly surfacing, we remained happy, excited, and filled with hope for a successful future that, at least during that time, seemed like a distant dream.

That night, amidst the smiles and blurred memories of a beer-filled evening, all I could wish was for that happiness to last forever. I was happy. They were my family.

And I loved them.

[cesqdarque]

The Pursuit of Equilibrium

Chapter Three – Obolus

I finally found the time and patience to upload my chapters to AO3 and Wattpad. But I will continue to post them here too :)

Summary: Cassandra is escorted out of the country, accompanied by Zacharias. They pass the Great St. Bernard Pass and receive help from unexpected business partners.

Words: 5k

Tags: fluff | religious references

For the vibes have a song from my Zach playlist: Muse - Undisclosed Desires

Link to the other chapters here: ONE | TWO

Delicate fingers guided the coat belt carefully through the buckle and lashed the black fabric tightly around slim hips. A last look into the silver-framed bathroom mirror, in which moss-green eyes were reflected, and Cassandra was finally ready to start her journey to Hogwarts. The last conversation between her and her grandmother bore fruit. It was too risky to stay here. Mrs. Montague would have to plan and execute the necessary efforts on the political stage meticulously before her granddaughter could return. Patience was a virtue that she had to practice from now on.

She turned on her heel, stepped over the thresholds of her chambers for the last time, and headed towards the old wooden staircase of the mansion to descend to the foyer again.

There stood the tall, handsome gentleman, as he was told to, ready to pick her up. Zacharias Boniface's gaze rose to her figure wrapped in her elegant black traveling coat. His lips curled into a charming smile. "Miss Darque, are you ready to leave?"

Putting one foot in front of the other on the steps, she descended the long stairs when she caught Zachariah's words. She did not like the fact that her former tutor, of all people, would accompany her on her journey. But her grandmother's word was law between these walls, and opposition would only have resulted in further trouble. The stringent lady of the house did not know about the tangled circumstances that her granddaughter shared with her black-haired, involuntary appendage. It was in the interest of both parties that this remained the case.

"As ready as I can be. I guess," Cassandra answered curtly whilst her fingers let go of the handrail. She smoothed the heavy fabric with her palms before she walked up to Zacharias and put her hands in her lap. "Well then. Hesitation is useless. Let's go."

Zacharias nodded, turned to the large gate of the mansion, and pushed it open. With a gallant wave of his hand and a small bow, he complemented his protégé outside.

The soft morning sun touched the stone walls of the mansion and Cassandra blinked away her last nostalgic thoughts that she associated with this place. Together with Zacharias, she moved through the forecourt of the estate and when they had come to a halt in front of an ochre-yellow horse-drawn carriage, she turned to her companion with a puzzled expression.

"A postal coach, really?"

With a wave of his wand, Zacharias opened the carriage door. He smiled entertained as soon as he met Cassandra's questioning mien. "Well, nothing is as inconspicuous as the usual Muggle means of transportation, isn't it?" he replied amusedly and held out his helping hand to her so that she could grab it to get in comfortably.

But Cassandra ignored his noble gesture and crossed the step into the interior of the wagon on her own.

She waited patiently on the leathered bench while her companion instructed the house-elf Alfie to cautiously stow her suitcase in the luggage compartment of the carriage. She overheard how Zacharias gave the coachman final instructions before he finally sat down opposite her. The carriage began moving, and Cassandra caught a last glimpse of the Montagues' country estate before the coach turned into a curve.

She did not know the path that lay ahead of them. Her grandmother had not said a word to her. They were now traveling in a chugging stagecoach, which led her to conclude that they were probably about to leave the country via the adjacent pass road.

Some time passed in silence. It was unthinkable that they would travel to England on horseback. And although she did not like it, she brushed a strand of her chocolate-brown hair out of her face and addressed Zacharias without a second thought.

“I assume we’re taking the route over the alpine pass?”

Zacharia's gaze turned away from the picturesque panorama he had enjoyed looking out of the window until now and nodded affirmatively.

"Well observed, dear," he answered appreciatively, "As you know, the road over the pass falls into the territory of your dear grandmother. Mrs. Montagues thought it best for you to travel by safe routes. We will pass some checkpoints. But I ask of you not to leave the carriage."

Of course, she thought to herself. Cassandra was aware of her grandmother's business activities, which included control over traffic routes. How else could her family smuggle ancient enchanted, dark magical artifacts undisturbed and without being hindered in their activities by uninvited parties? But she probably would not have considered that she would one day act as a smuggled good herself.

"Couldn't we have just used a portkey?" Cassandra snorted, a little unnerved.

The exertions made on her behalf were unpleasant to her, to put it mildly. If it had been up to her, she would have been content with side-by-side Apparition so as not to spend hours locked in a carriage with Zacharias.

He must have sensed her train of thought because he put on his most charming smile again. "Cassandra, think about it. Using a portkey involves magic. And magic can be traced."

"So, I'm being smuggled across the border in an old Muggle postal carriage so that I can't be pursued? What if we are already being followed? Carriages are not very fast..." Cassandra replied snippily.

Her companion giggled quietly. "That's what I'm here for. If we make uncomfortable travel acquaintances, I will take care of them," he said and winked at her coquettishly.

She just rolled her eyes. She did not feel like flirting. With belligerence in her voice, she continued "So you have been promoted from the position of a tutor to my personal guard? Or should I rather say, been demoted again?"

Not impressed by her words, Zacharias leaned a little closer to her and replied in a deep voice. "Degraded? Sweetheart, your grandmother did not hesitate for a second to appoint me as your travel companion. The trust she still places in me was confirmed by this decision. You cannot seriously assess that negatively? After all, you know what I'm capable of."

His hands moved to his knees and were only mere centimeters away from hers. Cassandra did not miss the closeness he was trying to create and gazed at him skeptically.

The twilight of his character, so well-known to her, gleamed in his steel-blue eyes. No matter how hard she tried to constrain herself, she had been unable to resist his questionably charming advances in the past. Despite everything, he had assisted her in taking revenge without questioning her bloodlust, even enjoying it. If she had mustered just a little more willpower, she would not be sitting in a carriage to leave the country now.

As a result, she leaned towards him fearlessly and whispered to him "If she knew about your involvement in the events in Venice, you wouldn't be sitting opposite me in such a relaxed state right now." She was not embarrassed to play along in his games, because he knew exactly what she was capable of. After all, he had taught her a lot of it himself.

Moss green met steel blue hues and the seconds passed like sweet honey. She could see his drifting thoughts reflected in his gaze before he gallantly leaned back against the leather bench, without breaking eye contact.

"I'm pleased to see that you still have that unquenchable fire, dear. I feared that the events in Venice had made you waver in your determination."

It was now up to Cassandra to put on her most charming smile.

"As you aptly stated earlier, inconspicuousness is the best protection."

Her statement made a broad grin on Zacharias' cheeks, and he replied in amusement. "You've always been my most attentive student."

"I was your only student, to be precise," Cassandra added with a smirk.

* * *

Mountainous landscapes, autumnal-colored fields, and meandering paths passed by the windows of the chugging carriage. Soon, it had to strike midday at the distant country estate, for the sun was already high in the sky when the wheels came to a halt for the first time. Zacharias descended, no doubt to make sure with the guards at the checkpoint that their journey had gone undetected so far. Without a word, he climbed back into the wagon and the horse-drawn carriage continued its route.

"We will soon reach the col of the pass, and we’ll have to switch the carriage."

Zachariah's words tore Cassandra out of her thoughtless musings. She looked at him questioningly. She was glad that she would soon be able to stretch her legs and take a short rest in the fresh air. But the way Zacharias furrowed his eyebrows did not bode well.

"Is there a problem?" she inquired.

He shook his head.

"No problem. But the horses are exhausted. A mountain pass is no easy stroll for the animals, and we still have a few kilometers to go until we reach our destination," he explained curtly.

Her gaze lingered skeptically on his tense expression. Something seemed to be bothering him, but she could not press him too much without running the risk of him closing up even more. So, she just nodded at him and hoped that he might speak again. But he did not. The only thing that could be heard was the clacking of the hooves of the horses that mounted the narrow streets of the Great St. Bernard.

The closer the carriage traveled to the summit, the cooler the wind blew gently through the cracks of the carriage. Cassandra wrapped her traveling coat tighter around her chest and prayed that she would have an opportunity to eat something warm during their upcoming rest. Her stomach was already rumbling, as it had been a while since her breakfast.

Zacharias noticed that his protégé shivered slightly. Without further ado, he took off his cloak and placed it in Cassandra's lap.

"I don’t want you to catch a cold under my care," he commented with a little wink.

She blushed slightly, but gratefully accepted his garment and laid the cloak over her trembling body like a blanket. The light scent of citrus fruits caressed the still-warm fabric around her figure. Bittersweet like his nature, she thought smiling softly as she warmed herself. Perhaps the choice of her companion had not been too bad after all. Wrapped in cozy warmth, she closed her eyelids and before she knew it, she was dozing off peacefully.

* * *

The rattling wheels of the carriage came to a halt once again when the supposed postal carriage reached the top of the Great St. Bernard route. Zacharias hesitated to wake Cassandra from her slumber, remembering the dark circles under her eyes in the morning, which testified to a restless night. But the journey was lengthy, and their destination was nowhere near in sight. Therefore, he cleared his throat briefly and moved his hand gently to her cheek to brush away a strand of her brown hair, which had fallen into her delicate face during her nap.

Cassandra thought she could feel fingers hovering tenderly over her pale cheeks. Was she dreaming? Startled,  her gaze caught his steel-blue eyes observing her cautiously

Zacharias quickly pulled his hand back to his torso and hurriedly cleared his throat again. "Time to change the carriage, dear. May I?" he asked as he nodded to his coat, which still covered her body.

She grabbed the soft fabric and handed it to Zacharias, who elegantly threw it over himself before he got out of the carriage and held out his hand to Cassandra so that she could get out of the carriage comfortably. She merely raised an eyebrow, ignored his friendly gesture, and jumped out of the chariot.

Cool mountain air blew through her shoulder-length hair. At these altitudes, the signs of the approaching autumn were already visible. The sparse meadow that covered the barren landscape had already taken on a reddish hue. The midday sun made the surface of the deep blue glacier water that filled the lake to her left glisten. Alpine nature did not care about the fates of travelers. Human life must have seemed insignificant and fleeting in contrast to the majestic mountain peaks towering towards the sky around them.

At the end of a short trail stood a white-bricked, multi-story building, which Cassandra knew was run by nuns to provide hot meals and shelter to travelers of all manners. She had once heard her grandmother talk about the members of the order. They had to adhere to their patron saint’s creed that all kinds of pilgrims had to be welcomed regardless of their status. Thus, travelers and smugglers alike always found hospitable accommodation within the walls of the hospice.

While Cassandra looked around, Zacharias turned away to take care of her suitcase. Since they had to change carriages, as he had explained to her earlier, she wondered where her next means of transport was.

Her gaze swung to the luggage compartment of the carriage, and she reached into the inside pocket of her travel coat to pull out her wand. Zacharias noticed her hand gesture and jumped to her side, abruptly stopping her action.

She looked at him puzzled.

"What?" she asked, slamming his hand rudely away from hers.

"You can't just perform magic around here. We are still well advised to keep a low profile. And we are among Muggles, I might add," he replied with a stern look, lifting the suitcase out of her hand, "We'll settle it the old-fashioned way."

"Now follow me. I can hear your stomach growling all up to here," Zacharias said and began to walk towards the hospice with her suitcase in his hand.

Cassandra rolled her eyes but followed her companion in silent obedience.

The interiors of the hospice were spartanly furnished. Plastered limestone walls, gray stone tiles, and the occasional cross or image of a saint left no doubts about the ownership of the establishment. The two travelers sat down on simple wooden chairs in the dining room and a nun dressed in a light gray habit immediately approached their table.

"A warm meal and an herbal tea for my companion." Zacharias began, turning to the nun. "And for me a moment of your time, if you please, dear sister," he added with a polite smile.

When the nun glanced at him questioningly, Zacharias barely brushed the palm of his right hand across his left hand, which was resting quietly on the table. His gesture revealed a clunky, golden signet ring, which Cassandra noticed in surprise, had been hidden from the bare eye by a concealment charm until now. The distinctive engraved "M" was prominently displayed on the magnificent jewelry. Well, so much for keeping a low profile, she thought. But the nun did not seem the least bit surprised. She simply nodded to Zacharias and gestured for him to follow her.

He stood up immediately and the two withdrew to a quieter corner of the room. Cassandra's gaze lingered curiously on the two and she watched out of the corner of her eye as the gray-clad woman handed something to her companion. Zacharias seemed to thank her with a polite bow before he turned away from her and rejoined Cassandra at the table.

She scrutinized her companion with raised eyebrows. "Are we already corrupting people of faith?" she asked him with a sneer.

Zacharias chuckled slightly amused. "Believe me when I tell you that more dubious deals have certainly been sealed here."

She did not doubt his statement. She was sure that it did not matter whether the business was done under the holy battlements of a church, over the patient papers of a desk, or underhand, they were all corrupt.

A bowl of hot stew and a cup of tea were served to her. And Cassandra gratefully savored both. While she ate her meal, Zacharias made the identifying mark of the Montague Clan disappear again under the guise of a charm.

"Does the lady approve?" he asked her with a sly smile.

Cassandra put her cutlery aside and smoothly wiped her lips with a napkin. "Excellent," she grinned. Her moss-green eyes fixed on his now unadorned hand. "But enlighten me briefly, Zacharias. Since when are you entitled to display my grandmother's signet ring?"

"A mere arrangement to secure the Order’s favor," he explained to her. "Your grandmother places great value on co-operation with the Order, you must know. They allow every guest to enter these halls. Their credo is not to judge those seeking protection. Our luck today."

"So, they were aware of our arrival?" Cassandra questioned.

Her counterpart nodded in agreement. "Certainly. Their authority, the Bishop of Sion, will provide us with a carriage to continue our journey," he elaborated.

Cassandra raised her eyebrows in wonder. "The kind of unholy bonds that are being forged," she commented jokingly, to which Zacharias only reacted with a mischievous grin.

The the meal was finished, the plates were cleared, and Zacharias paid their bill before he and Cassandra left the building through the back door. A magnificent carriage was already waiting behind the hospice, its doors bearing the emblem of the diocese of Sion, a bishop's crosier crossed with a sword on a red background.

The coat of arms reminded Cassandra somewhat of her father's family coat of arms. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat at the thought of her deceased father. She had not thought about him in a long time. The portrait of her mother had been omnipresent during her stay with her grandmother. But one searched in vain for a photograph of her father in the rooms of her grandmother's country estate. Whether this was pure coincidence or a symbol of her grandmother's dislike of her father, Cassandra did not know. She had simply never dared to ask her grandmother for an explanation.

Once again, she ignored the hand offered to her by Zacharias and suddenly climbed into the interior of the car.

* * *

Just as the sun had passed its zenith, so too did their traveling arrangement began its descent down the alpine hill. The closer carriage horses' hooves inched towards the valley, the warmer it became. The southern part of the Rhone Valley was known for its warm and dry climate. After a few quiet hours, the two significant landmarks of the state capital could be seen through the carriage windows. The two magnificent castles of Tourbillion and Valeria stood proudly on their moraine hills in the middle of the valley.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Zacharias addressed his companion, who was lost in her thoughts as she admired the panorama.

Cassandra turned to him and gave a curt reply, "Stunning."

She could not figure out why they were traveling further up the valley once they had reached neutral ground. She could not explain why they had to travel in a carriage bearing the emblem of the bishopric. ‘Why all the fuss? Why the inclusion of religious societies as business partners?’ she finally asked her counterpart.

Her companion smoothed his raven-black hair and thought for a moment. The longer the journey went on, the more Cassandra disliked all this secrecy. Why couldn't he just tell her what the plan was?

“Zacharias?” she addressed him in a firm voice.

"Very well," he relented. "Did your curious glances at the hospice detect what the Sister handed over to me?”

When Cassandra maintained her penetrating questioning gaze, he continued. “She handed me an Obolus. A coin of some sort. We will have to use it at our destination to send you safely to London."

"And how is a coin supposed to be able to help me get to London?” Cassandra questioned this strange piece of information.

“Menhirs” replied Zacharias. “There are a few of them on the grounds of the diocese. If they are activated, they form transitions to their twins. And as fortune would have it, there is another one of them in London. We will utilize this connection to transfer you to London unseen and untraceable.”

Cassandra's mouth fell open. She was aware of her former tutor's expertise, but the fact that he seemed to be well-versed in such ancient theories was news to her. ''How...?” she began questioningly.

“Professor Fig, one of your teachers at Hogwarts, is an expert in the theories of ancient magic,” he answered her inquiry.

"And the bishopric approves of us - witch and wizard - entering their grounds because...?” Cassandra continued to press on unfazed.

“Because your father, Merlin bless his soul, regularly frequented their circles during his time in the diplomatic service and your grandmother rekindled this connection to give us access to the menhirs,” Zacharias explained.

Her gaze dropped to her folded hands in her lap.

“She doesn't shy away from all kinds of shady deals when it comes to getting rid of her burden...” Cassandra murmured in a low voice.

Zacharias resisted the urge to cup her hands in his. Regret reflected in his eyes. “Everything she does, Cassandra, she is doing to keep you protected. Even if, pardon my candor, she is not always able to express her care for you clearly.” Moss green met steel blue and the familiarity Cassandra had missed since the happenings in Venice was evident in his gaze. He did not need to put it into words, they simply understood each other without saying a thing.

She took a deep breath. “This Professor Fig, why does his name sound so familiar? Am I supposed to know him?” Cassandra asked.

Her counterpart nodded. “You are probably familiar with the name because your grandmother used to correspond regularly with his wife Mirjam in the past. They presumably know each other from earlier days,” he explained. “Mr. and Mrs. Fig researched ancient magic together. After Mrs. Montague realized what forces were at work in Venice, she contacted her deceased friend's husband. He immediately offered his help. Whether out of helpfulness or curiosity about your powers, I cannot tell for certain. But it came in handy for your grandmother.”

Fate seemed to have an extraordinary sense of humor, Cassandra thought quietly to herself. ‘’Murderess, a piece of smuggled cargo and now an object of research. Simply perfect,” she summarized coldly.

“Don't forget my most diligent student on your list,” her companion tried to lighten the somber mood and smiled gently. “You'll settle in quickly at Hogwarts, I am sure of it. You have a talent for adapting to new circumstances.”

“I won't miss your fruitless flattery,” she returned snidely, but not without a hint of a smile gracing her lips.

Zacharias leaned his upper body back contentedly into the upholstered seat, glanced fleetingly out of the window, and closed “We have arrived."

* * *

The day was already drawing to a close as they entered the gates of the bishopric's estates. Zacharias opened the carriage door, stepped elegantly out of the carriage, and held out his open palm to his companion one last time. Cassandra grinned cheekily at him and got out without touching him, as was her custom.

Together, they strolled through the gardens towards the circular stone monuments. Zacharias carefully placed her suitcase beside them and turned to his female companion. He began to fiddle nervously with the lapels of his suit. Cassandra watched him with curiosity. She had seen Zacharias in various states before, but this restless side of him was entirely unfamiliar to her, and she wondered what was bothering him.

"Are you looking for something?" she inquired.

His fingers reached the pocket of his jacket and remained hidden in it for a moment. “I...” he began in an indecisive voice.

Cassandra looked at him in confusion. “Did you misplace the Obolus?” she teased him.

“No... I,” he began again, taking a calming breath, and continued, “Before we part ways, I want to give you something. Something that belongs to you.”

He pulled a silver chain from his suit pocket and held it out to Cassandra.

Her eyes widened. “Jewelry?” Cassandra asked, looking at him in bewilderment. The relationship between her former tutor and his student was complex, but she certainly had not expected a farewell present.

Zacharias placed the necklace in the palm of his hand to give Cassandra a better look at the piece of jewelry.

“Some time ago, I visited your parents’ cottage with your grandmother, not far from here,” he explained in a deep voice. “I will spare you the details. But while we were collecting some documents from your father's study, I found this,” he tapped the pendant with his index finger. “It is the coat of arms of your family, your fathers. I thought you might want it.” His gaze rested on her moss-green irises.

Cassandra took a step towards him and carefully stretched out her fingers towards the necklace in his palm. She inspected the silver piece, on which a wand crossed with a feather was depicted, and the Darque family motto was engraved in curly letters. "Verbum est acutius omni ferrum" she quoted quietly, tears gathering in her eyes.

Her companion nodded silently as he gazed at her.

“But why didn't my grandmother...’ Cassandra tried to formulate her question. But emotions threatened to overwhelm her like a downpour.

“Handed it over?” Zachariah finished Cassandra's attempt to tame her trembling voice. “Your grandmother is a Montague. As you will be one day, once you take over her business and discard your father’s name, as tradition demands.”

Her tear-adorned lashes raised to her escort.

“And I know you will fulfill your obligations with bravura, no question. But no matter how attached you are to your grandmother, Cassandra. You will always be your father's daughter, a daughter of House Darque."

She was at a loss for words. No words of scorn, teasing, or rebuttal were on the tip of her tongue.

With a gentle smile, Zacharias raised the necklace in one hand and his wand in the other. “I could not keep something so valuable from you. But let me make a small stylistic change so that it is worthy of your appearance, and you can wear it without revealing your origins.”

With a gallant movement, he waved his wand through the ether between them, carefully tapped the pendant with the tip of the dark wood and the previously silver piece of jewelry turned into black velvet on which an oval-shaped purple crystal was embedded.

Cassandra watched with admiration as the pretty piece of magic was performed for her sake.

Her counterpart gently opened the clasp of the transformed piece of jewelry in his hand, and with the most compassionate look Cassandra had ever seen reflected on her tutor's face, he parted his lips again.

“May I?” he whispered softly.

Cassandra nodded, turned round carefully, and lifted her hair into a mop with slightly trembling hands. Gently, Zacharias placed the velvet ribbon around his protégé's neck and closed the delicate clasp.

She let her hair fall back onto her shoulders and her hands traveled to the nape of her neck. She felt the soft fabric of the choker and traced it over the sides of her neck until her fingertips touched the cool smooth stone resting on her pale skin above her sternum. She owned many collars, necklaces, rings, and all manner of jewelry. But this piece, she swore to herself, she would never take off as long as she lived. From now on, it would be as much a part of her as the green of her eyes.

She felt the gentle touch of a man's hand on her upper arm and let Zacharias turn her towards him without resistance. It was as if someone had stopped the wheel of time. The world around them blurred and the only thing she recognized was the deep glacial blue of his eyes. The silence between them lay like an unspoken spell over their existences. Neither of them dared to interrupt this moment with words out of fear of turning the unspoken into reality.

In the distance, they heard a church clock strike the hour. As if released from a thrall, Zacharias broke eye contact and reached into the pockets of his cloak, pulling out the small coin. “It's time,” he said tonelessly and turned away from her to resume his duties.

He studied the tallest menhir in front of them more closely, tracing the carved symbols with the tip of his fingers. Cassandra shook herself briefly to regain her composure and followed her companion's activities closely. When he felt a small indentation on the side of the stone, he briefly peeked over his shoulder to let his protégé know that he had found what he was looking for. She nodded approvingly to him before he placed the Obolus in the furrow.

At first, Cassandra thought nothing was happening. But before she was aware of it, the stone around the inserted coin began to turn a reddish color. The edges of the coin seemed to glow and the Obolus turned like a key in a lock. The air around them seemed to vibrate with a slight whirring sound. The surface of the stone changed color from an ordinary grey to a watery light blue. And suddenly, in the light of the fading evening sun, their figures were reflected in a kind of translucent mirror.

Zacharias took a step back from the stone, turned to his protégé, and held out his palm to her with a charming smile. Without hesitation, Cassandra took his hand and together they stepped through the open gateway.

[deandoesthingstome]

Night Moves

Chapter 3

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)

Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.

Word Count: 2661

Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and F receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, drug use, drug addiction, general violence, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: Grumpy Walter, general police investigation discussion, social work, mention of failed relationships.

Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.

Playlist:  Night Moves Songs 8 - 11 Direct Spotify link here.

Masterlist

Walter shakes his head at Rachel with a frown and a deep crease in his brow as he steps through the door.

“Who was I trying to grab?” he asks, striding over to where Rachel has situated herself outside the bullpen. “Do we need to send a squad car out?”

Rachel heaves a sigh and rubs the bridge of her nose. 

“Alexandra Pierce. Says a friend of hers is missing, says she already tried to report it yesterday but that no one “gave a shit”, and wants to know what we're doing about it.” 

“What are we doing about it?” Walter widens his stance and crosses his arms in front of chest, tilting his head as he waits for Rachel’s reply.

“Well, I took down the particulars, but Ms. Pierce wasn’t interested in the standard answer of 'have you checked with her family?' Because apparently that was the same response she got yesterday and also her missing friend doesn’t have any family.”

“She seemed pretty upset on the way out. What’s the relationship if not family?”

“Says they know each other from the women’s clinic downtown, the one attached to the shelter. Ms. Pierce is a regular volunteer and her friend, one, uh…: Rachel flips her notebook open. “Trixie, Trixie McCabe. Hasn’t shown up in three days.”

“Okay, way to bury the lede, Rachel. ‘Trixie from the shelter’ sound like someone we might want to know about?” Walter glares at her with raised eyebrows and waits for the realization to sink in.

“Oh, fuck!” Rachel exclaims, a beat longer than Walter would have liked.

“Oh fuck is right. You got a number, an address for me?”

Rachel tears the slip of paper out of her notebook and holds it out for Walter. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe this didn’t click when she mentioned it.”

Walter takes a deep breath, desperate not to overreact and blow his top at Rachel. She’s not who his anger should be directed toward and he knows it. He reaches for the paper as he digs his cell out of the front pocket of his jeans.

The call rings to voicemail and he leaves his name and number with a message to call him back that he hopes sounds urgent enough.

“Alright, does she have your card too?” he asks, but Rachel shakes her head.

“She freaked out and walked before I could hand it over.”

Walter gives an exaggerated shoulder heave and eyeroll before dropping his arms to his side. It’s taking everything he has to control his temper at this moment, knowing he’s only just beginning to win Rachel’s trust again.

“What’d you say to her, Rachel? It’s not like you to upset a civilian reporting a crime.”

“I just asked how they knew each other and if her friend was a volunteer as well. She accused me of assuming Ms. McCabe was homeless and wondered if that was why no one cared to look for her. She started to raise her voice and I told her no one was accusing anyone of anything. I asked her to take a seat and try to calm down, at which point I’m sure you heard her exclaim and rush out.”

“Alright, well. I’m headed back out tonight after dinner. Gonna review those new files first. I’ll stop by her place on my way home and see if she’s around. Try to get some more information. You need anything else from me?”

Rachel shakes her head and apologizes again, to which Walter places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“It could happen to anyone. Let’s just keep working the case, okay?”

He can see that Rachel knows he’s sugar-coating for her and he can see she appreciates it. She gives a tentative smile and nod before he heads to his desk to grab the files.

He grabs some takeout on the way home and sits at the kitchen counter, inhaling the burger before turning his attention to the files. There’s nothing new. Same M.O. Same shady locations. Same outcome. Women harassed while trying to survive. His blood is boiling.

He’s got some time before the clubs really get going, so he stretches out on the couch and shuts his eyes for a bit, but the words and pictures in the reports are swirling in his head and he can’t sit still any longer. He realizes he forgot the drive-by, so he grabs his keys and heads back out, punching the address into his phone’s GPS.

He presses the buzzer for the apartment number and waits a solid minute before buzzing again. No answer. As he’s about to leave, the door opens and a young couple bursts through, giggling and paying no attention to the scruffy man lurking outside their building. He shakes his head, even as he grabs the door before it closes, sliding inside and taking the stairs two by two to the 3rd floor.

He knocks on 305 with heavy knuckles, then listens for any movement inside. He tries once more, then turns as 306 opens across the hall.

“What’s all the racket?” a little, old lady calls, head peeking around the door.

Walter flips open his badge as he steps across the hall and tries to make himself as small as he can.

“Ma’am, I’m Detective Walter Marshall with the Minneapolis PD. Do you know the woman who lives across from you? Any idea where she might be?”

“What do you want with Alex? She hasn’t done anything wrong. You just leave her alone. She’s a good girl.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure. I just have a few questions for her. Would you happen to know where she is tonight?”

“Tonight? Oh, dear. What time is it? Alex is usually home from school by now. Well, unless she has her other job to get to.”

“Do you know where she works?”

“Well, the University, of course.”

Walter takes a deep breath while he tries to make sense of what this woman is saying. She goes to school? She works at a university? She has another job? Or the university IS her other job?

“She works at the university this late at night?”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

Walter takes another beat.

“Okay, well, do you know where her other job is?”

“Well why would I know that? What kind of trouble is she in?”

“She’s not in any trouble ma’am. She came by the station earlier and I have a few follow up questions for her. Look,” Walter grabs a card from his wallet. “Could I ask you to give her my card next time you see her? And please tell her it’s about her missing friend.”

The old woman reaches a papery skinned hand around the door and grabs the card tentatively, looking back up at Walter.

“What did you say this was about? What’s she done wrong?”

“She’s done nothing wrong, ma’am,” Walter holds in an exasperated sigh. “I just need to ask her some questions about a friend she reported missing. Could you give her my card when you see her?”

“Well she’s a good girl and I know she’s not mixed up in any trouble, so you just leave her alone.”

“Alright, ma’am,” Walter backs away from the door, realizing he isn’t going to get much farther here. “You have a good night.”

He dials Mick on the way to his truck, but gets no answer and then remembers Mick had a family emergency. He also remembers how grateful he was that the commander saw fit to let him run the investigation with just Rachel and some other canvassing officers for now. He knows it’s probably because “it’s just hookers” but he doesn’t care. He likes to work alone anyway.

I have to get out of here. I can’t take this pressure anymore. All the nagging and questions. Where’ve I been? Why am I getting home later and later? Why don’t I answer the phone? God, she never stops. Acting like she was worried about me when she just called to see if she could pick me up something to eat. 

I didn’t mean to hit her, but if she won’t stop running her mouth, I’ll stop it for her.

I need to think now though. I did a shit job and fucked up royally. Couldn’t clean up my mess, which I shouldn’t have to make anyway, but now I’m worried. Worried they’ll start looking for more. 

I need to figure out a more secure spot for the others. Or at least see if I can camouflage the area a little better so no attention is drawn.

I put the bitch’s phone and purse where they belong in the river, but I kept a souvenir. Ten of ‘em actually. Just a little reminder of how no one gives a shit about these anonymous cunts but me. Once I take care of the others, I’ll go back for it. She won’t find it. She’s so oblivious.

“You lost, honey? You look a little lost." Sasha sidles up to the bear of a man sitting in her section, who couldn't look more unhappy to be here. 

She’s sure he’s a cop. He has that look that says he wasn’t exactly pleased with the shift he’d pulled and she also thinks he looks vaguely familiar but can’t place where. He has definitely not been to the club before. She’d remember this guy for sure cause he reeks of exactly the kind of virile, commanding masculinity she craves. The kind that’s just barely tempered with a tinge of self-doubt. The kind she doesn’t find very often and certainly not here. These guys all think they’ve got something solid to offer but it’s usually blatant insecurity and misogyny masked by bravado. Which can signify a little danger but never the kind she looks for.

"You know me?"

Well that was odd, maybe he isn’t a cop.

"Don't think so. I thought you might … I mean, you’re not from here right? You don’t sound like you’re from here. Now, you don't look like you don't know your way around, but like, are you here for ...?"

"It's not personal. It's business."

"Right, yeah. Well, listen," her lips breeze past his ear while she bends seductively to give a better view of her cleavage. "Buy me a drink, lemme treat you nice for a minute or two, maybe act like you're actually enjoying yourself. Perhaps whoever you're here looking for won't notice you sticking out like a sore thumb."

"I don't..."

"C'mon, one drink. What's it gonna hurt?"

Sasha takes advantage of his hesitation and nods to Vic at the bar.

"We'll start a tab for you," she smiles, easing herself onto his lap sideways, one arm wrapping around his shoulder and the other reaching across for his hand on the table. Sasha moves it to her hip and presses a little. "Hold me tight now, wouldn't want to fall off this steep cliff here."

Sasha jostles a little with his chuckle, but he stills just as fast.

“You don’t like my joke?” she purrs into his ear. “Doesn’t feel like a joke. Feels like I sized you up just right. Now sit and talk with me while I finish this drink before I have to get back to work, okay?”

Sasha picks up the watery vodka soda Janelle has placed in front of her along with a soda for her mark. If this bar knew anything, it was how to cheat a customer but Sasha isn’t complaining. If she had to actually drink the full amount of liquor she convinced patrons to purchase for her in the course of an evening, she’d be flat on the floor in an hour and would never be able to step foot on the stage, let alone twirl around the pole with any kind of grace.

“I’m Sasha, by the way. Who am I toasting here?”

“Detective Walter Marshall.”

Fuck. Sasha chokes a little on her drink as she inhales too fast in surprise. She thinks about mentioning Trixie, but she's nervous now because if this guy is anything like the rest of the pricks down at the station, nothing she says is going to make any difference when she’s dressed like this. Plus the DJ is playing her cue song and she needs to get backstage in about five minutes. 

“Oh,” she swallows another sip and clears her throat, trying to stay calm to figure out why he’s here. “You need to talk to the owner or something?”

“I need to talk to whoever can help. Wondering if anyone has gone missing lately or if anyone suspicious has been hanging around the club lately, making anyone nervous.”

“Well, not that I recall specifically. Between you and I,” she leans in a little more to whisper in his ear, “most of these guys make me a little nervous.” She closes her eyes slowly at the way he seems to reflexively grip her thigh a little tighter, but he relaxes when she pulls back to look him in the eye.

Sasha wants to continue her conversation with the only person who has ever made her feel remotely safe in this club, and is a little amazed it took him all of fifteen minutes to do so with about three dozen words, but her time is ticking. Plus he’d never take her concern seriously. He’s not here for Trixie. He’s here for someone else.

She takes a final drink and slips off his lap, dragging a hand across his chest and arm. It’s a standard move. The dancers do it all the time when they’re trying to convince a guy to buy some private time, but she just wanted to be connected to him a little longer. The muscles she feels send a jolt of heat to her already pulsing core. This guy could do some damage for sure. 

“I gotta get to work, but it was nice to meet you,” she bends low again and smirks as he finally breaks, glancing down to view what she has on display. “Detective.” She licks her lips a little at that one, then turns to head backstage, hoping he’ll stay for the show.

Walter Marshall isn’t one for strip joints. It skeeves him out watching all these lonely bastards leer and ogle at scantily clad women, knowing full well they won’t be getting anything real out of the exchange. Knowing full well these women deserve better than to be hustling for dollar bills from guys who probably couldn’t get it up if they had someone who actually wanted to be near them.

But he stays a little longer than he should. He wants to see more of her. And he knows it is completely unprofessional, using the department's dime to build a picture of a woman he doesn’t know at all. Against every instinct he usually has about women who put themselves on display like this, he wants more of her.

Her candy pink hair is obviously a wig, but her tits are all real and gorgeous at that. She also had an amazing smile and he sorta wishes he’d smiled back at her. It’s a fantasy, he knows it. But he stays a little longer and shifts in his seat when she comes on stage. 

He can’t be sure, but it looked for a moment like she was looking right at him, smirking to see him watching. When she spins, her gaze is directed elsewhere for what feels like forever until she drops her back against the bar, legs hooked high, arms stretched wide before gliding down along her sides, cupping her own breasts, and eyes staring straight at him from her upside down position.

He really can’t take it anymore. He stands and hands a couple twenties to the server just passing by and nods down at his table where his untouched coke and Sasha’s half-emptied drink sit side by side. This is gonna be a long fucking night.

Chapter 4 

Taglist:

Anything: @kittenofdoomage​ @mayloma​ @sillyrabbit81​ @fvckinghenrycavill​ @kebabgirl67​ @beck07990​  @mysweetlittledesire​ @summersong69 @mollymal (I can’t tag you two, sorry) (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake - tell me if you want off please: @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ @anotherwinchesterfangirl​ @sebbytrash​ @feelmyroarrrr​)

Night Moves: @luclittlepond @geraltsyenn4eva (I can’t tag you, sorry) @enchantedbytomandhenry @kingliam2019  @henryownsme  @littlefreya @identity2212 @marantha @angelcavill66 @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​

[deathswcrn]

so a few people have been asking about my thread tracker, since it's relatively custom built and a lot of folk seem to like it. i'm gauging interest on how much people would like me to build a freely-shared version they can copy and use themselves

some features it has that I built and use regularly

full character sheets, fit for multimuses and single-muses

(i'm super proud of those sheets because they contain a bunch of neat timesaving interlinking - once you link your main character sheet to a 'verse specific character sheet, a BUNCH of info gets instantly carried over. so you'll only enter info that won't change 'verse to 'verse like a character's parents once, and you can change it across every sheet at once, too)

character sheets that support pinterest and spotify embeds for the characters i have boards/playlists for.

partner tracker (no more changing the url on fifty different threads when your partner does lmao)

verse-tracker (refer back to the bit about linkage to character sheets)

thread tracker (UNfortunately not as in-depth as rpthreadtracker, it can't detect when someone's replied, but it can do things like track starters and asks and prompt you to check whether a thread HAS a reply yet on a customisable schedule. but i know notion has an API so i'm considering my options if people really like this. i still find this better than rptt but ymmv.)

to-do list linked to thread tracker (this is the big one that's gonna be a FUCKER to recreate because rn it's attached to MY to do list for everything in my life lmfaooo)

not built yet BUT interest tracker! which i found out TODAY is going to be possible :D

a bunch of customisation thanks to it being built in Notion

all of it is in one place.

this isn't something I built but Notion has a webclipper extension for firefox that I use to quickly put threads and thread to-do lists into the database, so if the RPTT extension is a necessary part of your set-up, fear not.

the only thing i'm waiting for at the moment is for the next notion update to hit me. this is because it has a bunch of features i want to build with. it should be rolled out sometime today or tomorrow i believe? but it's coming. and again: if people like the idea of this i will keep working on it to release

[defjux]

100 of my favorite Hip Hop Albums of 2022 Might be excessive but there was simply just a ton of music this year that I enjoyed and found myself going back to, and I believe each of them is worth checking out.  Each of the album titles here also links to either a bandcamp page or stream where you can listen to the project. Hopefully you’ll at least find one new album that you enjoy here, and as always feel free to reply with what you enjoyed and connected with the most this year. I’d love to know, and any other recommendations are definitely appreciated. This was an incredible year for new releases, not just for hip hop but for music in general which is why i’ll be posting another top 100 list for all of the non hip hop stuff I enjoyed from this year, hopefully in the next few days.  Peace. Chart w/ titles included 2022 Hip Hop Spotify Playlist 1. Billy Woods & Preservation - Aethiopes 2. Avantdale Bowling Club - TREES 3. Cities Aviv - Working Title For The Album Secret Waters 4. MIKE - Beware of the Monkey 5. ELUCID - I Told Bessie 6. AKAI SOLO - Spirit Roaming 7. Teddy Faley - Teddy Brown Brown 8. Defcee & BoatHouse - For All Debts Public and Private [IMPORT EDITION] 9. Ka - Woeful Studies / Languish Arts 10. J.I.D - The Forever Story 11. Open Mike Eagle - Component System with the Auto Reverse 12. billy woods x Messiah Musik - Church 13. Danger Mouse & Black Thought - Cheat Codes 14. ShrapKnel - Metal Lung 15. SolarFive & Iceberg Theory - Momento Mori 16. Moor Mother - Jazz Codes 17. Serengeti & Child Actor - Ajai 2 18. Infinity Knives & Brian Ennals - King Cobra 19. Joshua Virtue - RAMA 20. Zilla Rocca & andrew - Don't Wait For Me to Leave 21. Fly Anakin - Frank 22. Cities Aviv - MAN PLAYS THE HORN 23. KILLVONGARD - I Think I've Lost It. 24. R.A.P. Ferreira - 5 to the Eye with Stars 25. Illogic - The Transition 26. Quelle Chris - DEATHFAME 27. Bloodmoney Perez - Curses 28. Fatboi Sharif & Noface - Preaching In Havana 29. Ockham's Blazer - Ockham's Blazer 30. Little Simz - NO THANK YOU 31. Theravada - Strange Voice 32. amani & robalu - I'll Be Right Black 33. Jam Baxter – Fetch The Poison 34. OKnice - Have You Tried Being Happy? 35. Davis & Foule Monk - Plum Whisky

36. Noveliss - Vagabond 37. SHIRT & Jack Splash - I Turned Myself Into Myself 38. Moses Rockwell - Until You Run out of Cake 39. Ja'king the Divine - 手术: BLACK SUN TZU 40. Archibald SLIM - Worldly Ways 41. NNAMDÏ - Please Have A Seat 42. YUNGMORPHEUS & Theravada - Up Against the Wall; a Degree of Lunacy 43. Roc Marciano & The Alchemist - The Elephant Man's Bones 44. Nas - King's Disease III 45. Lord Kayso - MOOR CHORES 46. Ace Cannons & MIGHTYHEALTHY - Mightycannons 47. Rich Jones & Iceberg Theory - Smoke Detector 48. Lukah - Raw Extractions 49. Nicholas Craven & Boldy James - Fair Exchange No Robbery 50. Ghais Guevara - There Will Be No Super-Slave 51. Lupe Fiasco - DRILL MUSIC IN ZION 52. Milc & Televangel - Neutral Milc Motel 53. ILL Conscious x Mute Won - Acres of Diamonds 54. L'Orange & Solemn Brigham - Marlowe 3 55. $ilkMoney - I Don't Give a Fuck About This Rap Shit 56. Teller Bank$ & Ed Glorious - The I & I 57. Wiki & Subjxct 5 - Cold Cuts 58. Love, Ulysses - 61​,​265​,​147 59. Vic Spencer & August Fanon - Psychological Cheat Sheet 3 60. Stik Figa x August Fanon - Heresy 61. Raz Fresco & Nicholas Craven - Boulangerie 62. QThree - U Be Ight 63. Wrecking Crew - Sedale Threat 64. eLZhi & Georgia Anne Muldrow - Zhigeist 65. Apollo Brown & Philmore Greene - Cost of Living 66. miles cooke - i used to feel things 67. Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire - I Love Y.O.U cuz Y.O.U Ugly Vol.1 68. demahjiae - Angels Wear Black 69. AJ Suede & Televangel - Metatron's Cube 70. Sacco & Vanzetti - It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You 71. Mavi - Laughing so Hard, it Hurts 72. Rhys Langston - Grapefruit Radio 73. Steel Tipped Dove & Aloe Vera - Days Pass Strange 74. PENPALS - Dimensions of Dialogue 75. Malachi. Whitman - Happy Place 76. Denzel Curry - Melt My Eyez See Your Future (Extended) 77. Lungs/LoneSword, Phiik & Cise Greeny - Where Are The Bugs!? 78. Pink Siifu & Real Bad Man - Real Bad Flights 79. Andrew - The Rain Knows What It's Doing 80. Mattic & Parental - Down In The Rabbit Hole 81. Boldy James & Futurewave - Mr. Ten08 82. Ransom & V Don - Chaos Is My Ladder 83. Torito & Small Professor - Soiled 84. Jermiside & The Expert - The Overview Effect 85. big kahuna og & graymatter - METAL GEAR SOLID 86. Duncecap & Hajino - Go Climb A Tree 87. Earl Sweatshirt - Sick! 88. Deca - Smoking Gun 89. Freddie Gibbs - Soul Sold Separately 90. Mickey Diamond & Big Ghost Ltd - Gucci Ghost 91. Rome Streetz - KISS THE RING 92. Redveil - learn 2 swim 93. Daniel Son - The Bush Doctor 94. Dälek - Precipice 95. Jesse the Tree - Pigeon Man 96. Jason Griff - Fireside Chats 2 97. Benny the Butcher - Tana Talk 4 98. Killah Priest - Mother 99. Lord jaH-Monte Ogbon & Sadhugold - The Black Möbius 100. Kipp Stone - Room 109

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 3

Hello! Sorry it’s a bit late, I’ve been settling in the cottage I’m in on holiday. I can't wait for to post this part, since it's now finally starting to kick off! For those who have asked to be in the Taglist, just know you're on the guest list for my funeral, cuz you guys are the ones giving me motivation. <3333333

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls from England ended up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1017 (Slightly shorter this time)

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injuries, Kate's having a slight panic attack but doesn't realise it lol

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE PROLOGUE IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

PART 1: Chapter 3 -

Error: Friend not found.

Throughout time, it was believed that bridges were gateways to other realms and dimensions, and this is what some people believed supernatural creatures such as ghosts used to cross into the world of the living.

Now would be a good time to be anyone but me.

 Chills swept up my spine and down my limbs as I felt frozen in place at the sight before me. Mind clouded with anxiety and confusion, I racked my brain to see if I could come to even a singular conclusion to why Kay had evaporated into thin air.

Breaking through my fuzzed up thoughts, I went with my first idea. Sprinting to where I had last seen her leaning on the other side of the bridge, I practically threw the top half of my body over the edge.

My wide eyes glared into the depths below, scanning intently for any sign that she had fallen in. A circle of ripples, bubbles, anything! But to my bewilderment, nothing revealed any indication that she had landed in the water. Well, now that I come to think of it, if she had fallen, there would’ve been at least some noise. Whether it was a splash, or her screaming as she fell.

I breathed a small sigh in relief as I semi-ruled out the possibility. But the unease swept back like a wave, as I remembered that I was currently alone, in the middle of the woods, with nothing but a thin waterproof coat to keep me warm.

—————————-

The next couple minutes was spent retracing my steps as I returned to the clearing, the whole time I called Kay’s name, straining my ears through the noise of the birds and trees for any sort of reply.

I eventually returned to the bridge, with the intent of returning to the car park to see if Kay had ended up there, and worst case scenario, report her missing.

I switched on my phone’s torch, in order to navigate my way back in the now dying light, whilst nothing but panic pumped at high speed through my veins, my head still clogged with questions about what happened.

Tears pricked at my eyes at the thought of my missing friend and being alone in the middle of nowhere. Nothing like this should happen unless it was a horror movie! What caused her to disappear? How did she vanish so quickly and quietly? I wiped at my glassy eyes, black mascara now smudged on my hand and probably my face. I pushed on and started my way over the bridge.

It was now dark, with only my phone bearing a sphere of light to illuminate what was in front of me. I lifted my head to look ahead, only to stagger to a stop, shock crashing over me for the second time this evening - only this time it was impossible to try and come up with an explanation.

It seemed to shimmer and glitter in the light of my torch, and all I could do for a moment was peer at it with nothing but bafflement as I tried to wrap my head around what I was witnessing. A shaky breath rattled through my lungs as I shuffled a tantalising foot forwards. Call me dumb, but crossing this bridge was my only way back, and this thing completely blocked the path.

It looked like a wall of some sort – transparent – as I could just make out the other side, but it swirled and morphed between white and grey, as if someone had taken the world’s biggest liquid veil and defied gravity by hanging it up in the middle of nowhere. Scanning it whilst moving my phone about, I theorised that this could most likely be behind Kay’s bizarre disappearance.

I slowly lowered myself to the ground, patting my hand about on the wooden floor for a stick I had spotted earlier whilst keeping a firm eye on the veil. I soon felt the knobbly bark and wrapped my hand around it before gradually straightening back up. I held it up in front of me, as both defence and a prodder and inched it forward with my shaking hand until it was no more than a half inch away.

Gently swaying the thin branch from side to side, I cautiously edged it closer each time, making the crazy decision to see if I could swirl what I guessed was liquid within this mysterious wall. That was, until the stick finally came in contact.

I let out a sharp cry of alarm as the stick was torn out of my hand and with a flash, it was gone. I let out a hiss, grimacing as I felt a harsh burning and opened my hand, only to see gashes where the branch had torn at my skin as the veil sucked it in at the speed of light. Clenching my jaw and taking deep breaths through my nose, I tried to put pressure on the wounds in an attempt to stop the blood that was now oozing out and running down my arm.

But what was most important, is that I now had a clear idea of what happened to Kay.

With newfound determination, I strode up to the veil, eager to find my friend. Coming face to face, it was only when I went to step forward, did I hesitate.

What if something bad happens as soon as I stepped through? I didn’t want both of us to go missing without a trace. What would become of our family, and other friends? I didn’t want to put that type of trauma on them! However, it would be worse if I returned alone, I don’t think Kay’s mum would ever forgive me for losing her daughter.

Coming to a final decision, I faced back towards the wall, trying my best to keep myself from faltering.

“I swear down if I don’t come back from this they better put me on Buzzfeed Unsolved.” I muttered to myself.

Reaching out again with my bleeding hand, I decided there was no turning back now, and with a deep breath, I touched the wall.

With a ferocious jolt, my feet were swept from underneath me, and before I could let out even a scream, I was thrusted forward into darkness.

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

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

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Can't wait to see you on the 7th April for Chapter 4! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg @mrsdurin @g1gglef1t @qmabailor @jupiterrdarling

(Message me if your tag isn’t working)

[kpophubb]

2am :*^

🍯Should we make something special on fifth of each month😃 🎂🪴

❣️Also, I wanna wish you a great Friday and happy weekend🌿 cannot wait for your replies💗💓 sending you 🌠the biggest hug ever💖💗

And the playlist is ❌ Mia but MY MIA🫵🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Eat good ,rest well and be happy 🍀🌸💛💛

🐁

Hi baby😭💗 first of ALL,, resend me letter #1 bc the LINK WOULDN’T open!! Was it the ✉️ link? “Page not found” was being shown shsnsjsn pls I WANNA READ IT SO BAD cause each word you say is just so precious to me 🥹🫶🏻 and idk if you know but, letters are my favourite things to receive in general. 💌 physical ones are the BEST among em all.

First of all, pls do not worry about not being able to send me asks. I knew the conditions you were dealing with my love, I was just worried sick about you😭💗 I wanted to know how you were doing, whether you were doing okay, whether you met nice people or slept properly, whether you were sick or healthy and everything else to know. Every message you always send me and everything you say about yourself to me, they mean a lot to me so I remember every detail and wonder so much about you when you’re gone. 🥺

Sure we can make it our anniversary¿ on the 5th of every month?😍🙈 anything you’d like, I’m pretty bad with stuffs like this </3 I read your entire letter and first of all, WELCOME HOME TO ME MY LOVELY GIRL!! ❣️🫂 you’ve worked so hard and gone through so much, I’m sending you the warmest hugs and the sweetest head pats ever! To deal with so much, not everyone can do this you’re my strong and amazing girl who deserves to be applauded for her courage and strength! I’m really happy to hear that you’ve been getting a little better mentally and I hope the new year your life takes a 180• turn and you’re flooded with happiness, success, joy and a reunion with your family somewhere. 💗 you deserve it more than anyone I know baby!!

people are always mean and people will always be mean, for NO reason. Some people are just built w/ negative vibes and they have to make you feel less than whole and problematic, but in reality you’re not! I know it’s hard for you to get over the words and behaviour of other people, considering your selfless and friendly personality but I hope it gets easier for you and god surrounds you with nice and appreciative people who always remind you you’re worth so much ❤️ and ofc im here to give you the love and encouragement you need. I’ll try my best to give you the support of 100 genuine people/ friend so you will never feel lonely!! 😤

and oh pls WHAT ARE YOU SAYING!😭 ofc there are many many precious people on my blog- my anons, my moots, my followers and all of you mean the world to me but IN DIFFERENT WAYS. No one can replace no one. You’re gonna be YOU and I’m gonna love you IN YOUR DIFFERENT AND UNIQUE WAY THAT IS ONLY RESERVED FOR YOU! 👆🏻💋 and, I went on a trip to Middle East !! 🥰 I did receive gifts I mean I shopped a lot there so yeah count those as gifts from my mom? Ahaha lol. Anyway, I had the most peaceful new year I could ever think of! ~~

This year’s gonna be tough for me!! I need to work real hard and face a lot of challenges and especially the first few months are gonna be hectic and draining. I move out next month and then have to literally build a new life somewhere unknown w unknown people 💔 which makes me super anxious but I’ll get through it!! 🫶🏻 my lovely anonie, I wish you stay healthy, happy and wish I can continue to brighten up your life, day and entire year!!😘 I love you and here’s the squishiest hugs ever for you!! If you’d want, we can ofc be closer and even call eachother and send eachother voice messages 🫶🏻 (ofc if you’d want it someday) btw, I did so many face reveals these few months 🤭 idk if you saw tehee 👉🏻👈🏻

[princematcha]

To hell with despair, I'll tell you my warmest memory & you tell me yours, meanwhile the wolrd goes on.

i'm eight or maybe seven, my sister is six or maybe five, it's some random april day, cloudy but very warm, we sneak into this wheat field, it wasn't so big but for little us it was massive, an endless sea of vibrant green. I remember stealing some, each of us a handful, & running back home with a dog barking in the distance. We peeled the unripe wheat into big brown glass bowls, it took us so so long to just barely cover the bottom of the bowls, we ate it with a bit of salt, in two or three spoonfuls. That was the happiest i have ever been.

I have never had green wheat again in my entire life, but as i'm writing this i can taste it, very clearly, fifteen years later!

(Sorry about how random this is, i don't know what makes me want to tell you things, but i'm not going to question it. Also thank you for the playlist, it made me feel very cozy inside)

what a warm memory! i can visualize it rlly clearly w how you tell it !!!! i’ve never had green wheat but this made me want to at least try it. i’m not sure what my warmest memory is! i try to be toasty all the time but thsi is a memory i think about a bit more than others:

at least once a year until i was around nine or ten i would visit the philippines to see my family. my grandpa lived in a small village far away from cities and high in the mountains. the village was next to one of the largest rivers in the philippines, surrounded with trees that were bearing fruit every time i was there.

one year when there was a particularly bountiful season, a game i would play with my grandpa was eating a spoonful of guyabano and guessing the amount of seeds i would find. i was still learning how to count and baby hands aren’t the best at peeling or cutting fruit.

guyabano (which i recently found out it’s called soursop in english, but i never tasted it to be that sour) is a really big green fruit with a hard rind. the rind has small spikes that aren’t sharp or ridges. the inside is white and soft with smooth black seeds that are around the same size as the pad of your thumb.

i think it was near christmas when i went that year and i can still remember sitting with my grandpa under a tree to hide from the sun, him feeding me first every time before spooning more. he would ask me for a number before i started chewing, and i would push the fruit to the corner of my mouth and answer with a full mouth. then i spit out the seeds in my hands and we would count the saliva-covered seeds together.

i only eat guyabano when i’m in the philippines, i can’t wait to go back i haven’t been in 5ever

(here’s the link to the playlist i was talking abt: love’s stall it isn’t v long but it make me groove.)

also i was listenin to whole pot of jelly by pete wingfield while writing this reply and it’s making me so giggly i love it. it’s v 70’s and funky funny and i think i’m going to be listening to this on repeat for a while.

[jake-g-lockley]

Getting Lost in Translation (Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x desi!reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: Violence, mentions of torture, mentions of PTSD, mentions of trafficking (drug and human), non-sexual nudity, swearing

Word Count: 5.4 k

Summary: You go undercover with Santiago Garcia to get information about a drug/human trafficking cartel. 

A/N: Take a shot every time I say “dupatta” and you’ll end up in the hospital (sorry). Also is it really a Santiago fan fic if you don't mention his gammy knees AHAHAHA <333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your POV

You’ve always enjoyed the quiet village life, with people who lived real lives, rather than the calculated and time managed life that you had to endure when growing up. You were grateful for your upbringing in a well-to-do household which allowed you to study and grow up in comfort. 

After five years of medical school and two years working as a doctor in a city hospital, you decided that it was time to give back to the community that needed help the most. One day, you quit your job and never turned back, cutting off all contact with your family, working as an English and Science teacher at a small village in Tamil Nadu, India. You used your knowledge of languages to help the folks of the village by acting as a translator with those who offer foreign aid. 

You woke up at the crack of dawn and went to bed when the moon was up high in the sky. It was tough but you loved every second of it. You were finally happy. 

That was until something horrible started happening in your village. Children were going missing and you started spending your time comforting distraught parents. These were children that you taught in the small school and your heart ached with every second that they were gone. 

The police had done some investigation of their own and found out that the kids’ disappearance was linked to a trafficking ring, which made you feel helpless and you almost lost yourself with the worry that you were experiencing. 

Nevertheless, you had to get it together and find some type of solution to help these families, and after weeks of requesting for aid, you were finally due to meet the group of individuals who would help find these kids. 

So here you were standing with the police at the airport, waiting. They had told you that they would be there at 1 pm but apparently their flight from Miami had been delayed. You nervously fiddle with your big jimmikis as your eyes scan the people coming out of arrivals. Suddenly, you spot a team of big burly western men walking towards you and the officers. 

“That’s them, isn’t it, officer.” You say in Tamil to the police officer beside you. 

“Yes, ma.” he replies, waving them towards where they were standing. 

“Hi! I’m Y/N and I’ll be your translator while you are here.” you say, stepping up, offering your hand to the nearest of the men. 

A tall man with a baseball cap that said ‘Standard Heating Oil’ took your hand and shook it, quickly introducing his team as they loaded their luggage into the trucks. “I’m Frankie, this is my team. The brothers, Benny and Will on the far left, Tom in the middle and Santiago on my right.”

“Nice to meet all of you.” you say, giving them a toothy grin, which they all returned except for the man with salt and pepper curls, Santiago. His face was arranged into a calculated and poised manner that showed little to no emotion. 

You quickly translated a few conversations between the group of men and the police before getting into the van and a few minutes later, the van was speeding towards the outskirts of the city towards the village that was about two hours away. You stayed silent throughout the ride, choosing to admire the scenery outside, occasionally eavesdropping on the conversations that the men were having behind you.

They seemed like a chummy bunch and you were briefed about the field experience that they had, which made you feel slightly better about letting them take hold of the ropes and find these children. The van abruptly stops and you peak to the front to see what was going on. A cow was crossing the road, a regular occurrence here in India.

“I heard people here worship cows, Will.” one of the men says, making you turn to look at them with a disdainful look on your face. 

“We do not worship cows, we respect them. Many people here consider the cow to be a sacred symbol of life that should be protected and revered.” You say, pointedly, trying not to roll your eyes at the men.

Santiago and Frankie chuckled.

“Oopsie, sorry, missy.” said Benny with a smile, leaning his weight forward onto the seat in front of him. 

“See Benny, they don’t worship your girlfriend.” Will says, earning a punch from Benny. 

“She said, respect boys.” Frankie said, sending an unyielding glare at the both of them. He was clearly the mother goose of the team and the other two men actually listened to him. 

“You sound incredibly eloquent for someone who is living in a small rural village. What’s your story?” Tom asked.

“Studied in the UK and worked as a doctor for a few years and decided that there are a lot of people who need help in outskirt villages.” you shrug. “I also speak multiple languages to help with foreign aid.” 

“Impressive.” Tom nods, approvingly.

“So you guys are used to working together?” you asked, awkwardly trying to keep the conversation a float, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Oh yea,” Frankie says “We’ve always been a team and we were tracking the same cartel that we think is operating throughout South India and other parts of the world for quite a while now, that's why we answered to your distress signal. We believe that it is a human trafficking organization as well as a drug trafficking organization.” 

“Those poor children, I know them personally. I can’t imagine what they are going through right now.” you say biting your bottom lip, swallowing the tears that are threatening to bubble out of your eyes.  

“You personally know them?” Will asks.

“Yea, they are my students,” you say. “Very bright kids, quick learners.”

Just as Frankie opened his mouth to ask another question, the van stopped again, signifying that you had arrived at your destination. You adjusted your dupatta, draping it ever so lightly over your hair, smoothed your kurta top and stepped out of the van, waiting for the men to follow you out. 

You led them to the house of the village head and instructed them to remove their boots and socks before entering. Santiago groaned as he bent down to pull his socks off and you heard a light fluster of pain. You waited for him to finish and you followed him into the house.

Tom started to explain their plan, and where they are planning to infiltrate this group. You rapidly translate the information to the village head, taking down some notes yourself. You were impressed by the amount of detail put together in this plan. The intel that they had already collected showed that the children are being kept alive in a village not far from here. If everything went smoothly, the kids would be back with them. But then came the tricky situation.

“We will need someone to come with one of us to stay in the opposite village so that we can make sure that the information we got isn’t bogus without drawing attention to ourselves.” Santiago finally spoke. 

You were slightly taken aback by his voice. It was soft but had an edge to it that tickled you. His slight accent sounded pleasantly melodious to your ears but still maintained an air of authority that could quiet a room in an instant. You blinked, focusing on the information that he had just said, translating it to the village head.

You wait for him to respond and you sigh when he does.

“He wants me to go.” you say to Santiago, looking him in his eyes for the first time, holding his gaze. Santiago stares back, his eyes unwavering.

“And rightfully so, you have medical skills and can pass off as a villager.” Tom says, nodding. 

“Then I’ll go with you.” Santiago says. 

“Do you have a plan on how you are going to disguise yourself?” you ask.

“Yea, I was thinking of going in as a deaf and mute man,” he says.

“Great, I can sign, this will go perfectly.” you say finalizing it.

“Good job, team, now we can start the preparation.” Tom said, finalizing the meeting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The police had gotten you and Santiago a small hut to live in at the outskirts of the opposite village for him to do his reconnaissance. You both were to pose as husband and wife and they had given you a fake thaali to be worn on a yellow string around your neck to signify your marriage. You slyly noticed that Santiago didn’t wear a ring, unlike Frankie and Tom but you assumed that he had a girlfriend somewhere in America. 

“Hold still,” you tell him, wrapping your old dupatta around his face to conceal his identity. He wanted to go into the markets where most of the town gossip would buzz about. He was dressed in some clothes that were given to him by the village head and had his bulletproof vest under it. 

“I am holding still, your hands are shaking.” he said, smugly. 

Your hands were shaking. You were a trained medical professional and your hands were shaking. Santiago made you feel nervous. He is a very intimidating man. This whole operation made you feel nervous. You just wanted it to be over as soon as it started. 

“Pin,” you held out your hand and Santiago dropped the pin into it. 

You quickly pin the edge and step back to admire your handy work, and catch his eyes. He had the most beautiful baby doe eyes, framed with long eyelashes that could make any girl jealous. You stared a little too long until Santiago clears his throat.

“Done staring, chica?” He says, amusement lacing his voice. 

“Wasn’t staring.” You mumbled, grabbing your saree’s pallu and draping it over your head, tucking the ends into your blouse. Turning you look at the mirror behind you and mark the parting of your hair with a little bit of red kumkum, adjusting your pottu. 

“Do I look like I can pass as someone’s wife?” You say, turning back to Santiago. 

“Yea, you look great.” He answered.

“That's not what I asked, but thanks.” You both walk to the market center, you gripping Santiago’s firm bicep and stirring him around. You strike up a conversation with one of the vegetable sellers.

“I’ve never seen you here before, ma.” The man says in Tamil.

“Yea, uncle, my husband and I moved here a few weeks ago, didn’t have the energy to come out. He’s deaf and mute and our child went missing a few months ago.” you answer, staring into space as your eyes teared up. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, ma. Things like that have been happening here too, you know?” He says as you pick a few vegetables. 

“What do you mean?” You sniff.

“We think it's the gang of people at the south end of the village,” he leans closer and whispers. “Children have been going missing and no one is here to defend them.” 

You allowed a tear to drip down your face and you turned to Santiago and signed to him, that you have information. Paying for your vegetables, you thanked the old man and walked along the path. 

“Vegetable soup again?” Santiago whispered. 

“Seriously, we are undercover and that's what you’re worried about?” You hiss back. 

“I’m a hungry man, chica.” he whispers back after a while. You could hear an exaggerated pout in his voice.

“Make do with what you have,” you say, as you stir him to the meat store.

“See, I knew you were nice.” He whispered, his eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes and bought some mutton to cook something for the man. After all, he was the one helping you and so far, everything has been going pretty good. 

“Do you find me intimidating, cariño?” Santiago suddenly asks as he chopped the vegetables using his knife while you cooked the rice and mutton into something edible. You look up, not expecting his question, the both of you usually cook and eat silently. He had an eyebrow cocked up and a ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“Obviously.” You say, looking back at the mutton dish. 

“How so?” he persisted.

“Because you’re so, well, you? You just have that infuriatingly calm look etched on your face that doesn’t give me any information to work with. You’re obviously a military man who’s very particular about following the rules and I’ve been known to bend the rules sometimes and I’m scared that I would slip up and upset you.” You blurt out. 

Silence.

“I’ll try to be less intimidating. You’re right, I am very particular about protocol but you’ve followed everything down to a T so far and all the information that you have gotten has been matching perfectly with the intel that we already have.” He says, smiling.

You smile back, absorbing Santiago’s smile. It was genuine and it was a beautiful smile. It contorted his face in a different, more healing way and it was making him seem younger than he is. 

Over dinner, he told you about his boys and how they served together. He also told you all the weird things they would do, which elicited a laugh from you that echoed around the small hut. 

You tell him about your life before this and how different everything was, until the both of you had sleep lulling in your eyes. You don’t remember the last thing you said before closing your eyes, but you did know that you felt significantly more comfortable with Santiago around. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up abruptly to Santiago thrashing violently in his sleep. You’re familiar with the effects of PTSD on a person, you’ve seen it many times before, but this just hurts to watch. 

You grabbed his shoulders and lightly held him until he stopped shaking. His breathing softens and he opens his eyes, looking up at you and then jumping away from your grasp. 

“It's ok, it was just a dream. You’re here.” you say, grabbing a hold of his hand. He reciprocated the touch by squeezing your hand. 

“Sorry I woke you, cariño.” He says softly. 

“It's alright, you wanna talk about it?” you say, just out of courtesy, not really expecting him to say much about it. 

“My team and I came out of a very tough mission recently and I feel like I am the one to be blamed for all the mistakes that we made.” he whispers. “There were a lot of people’s lives on the line and we lost all of them because of one small error.”

You look up, shocked, not expecting a full revelation from Santiago. You mask your shock and scooch closer to him and put a hand on his back, rubbing circles.

“Hey, what happened, happened, alright? Past tense. Stay here, with me in the present.” you say soothingly. You knew nothing could change what had happened and Santiago would always have to carry that pain with him, but you tried anyway. 

He nodded without a word and you both just sat in the dark for a while just listening to each other's breathing and the crickets outside.

“Go back to sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.” You whisper into Santiago’s ear. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You let the cool water of the river envelope you with its freshness. You were used to bathing in cold water so early in the morning after living a year in the village. It helps with waking you up and you feel refreshed throughout the day. 

Despite telling Santiago to sleep, you stayed awake all night staring at his sleeping face. Even though you find it hard to admit it, you were definitely harboring a small crush on Santiago Garcia. A part of you wanted to wake up every morning with him by your side. He is a very handsome man and has pretty good intentions as far as you could tell. You spent all night memorizing every single detail that was etched into his face, wondering whether each one of those lines has its own story. 

Your thoughts were cut off by a sound close to your right and you grabbed the knife that you had strapped to your thigh and held it in front of you. 

“Who’s there?” You say in Tamil and then repeating the line again in English while cautiously step forward from the river. 

“Yo, it's just me- HOLY FUCK!!!” Santiago screamed, eyes wide, frozen to the spot. 

“DUDE WHAT ARE YOU SCREAMING AT??!” You yell back at him. 

Then you look down and realize that Santiago caught a full view of your very topless body. You facepalm, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around you.  

“Sorry, sorry, gods Santiago, you of all people should know not to sneak up on me.” You chastise him, folding your arms across your chest. 

“Pretty amazing way to start my morning though.” He says, after regaining what's left of his brain cells.

Your mouth twisted into a scowl. 

“I guess we have to get even now.” You say, smugly, trying to hide your ulterior motive of wanting to see Santiago Garcia shirtless. 

“Easy, your wish is my command, princesa.” He says, whipping his shirt off with one swift motion. 

God damn.

Yep, exactly what you expected, sculpted by Michelangelo for the gods, even by the gods or greater than the gods. You've had your fair share of men in medical school, but nothing comes close to this archangel. 

“Like what you see?” He tilts his head to catch your expression but you keep your emotions steady, not allowing them to leak onto your face. 

You shrug and avoid his eyes, swooping down to grab your clothes that you wanted to wash. He pulls off his trousers and walks into the lake. 

Tightening the hold of your towel, you begin to wash your saree and underclothes, hanging them to dry on a rock nearby as you watch Santiago do laps around the river, his muscles flexing. You snap yourself out of it and walk back to the small hut to change. 

When you got out, Santiago had a towel wrapped around his waist, a little too low slung for your sanity. He was adjusting a mirror on the tree to shave his face. 

Suddenly, you hear something to your far left and you feel like you were being watched. Your peripheral vision caught sight of the trees moving and you moved closer to Santiago. 

“Santi, give me the razor, and don’t talk.” you whisper. You give him a smile and sign that there are people watching. He nodded, handing you the razor as you closed the gap. 

“There is someone in the trees to our left.” You whisper as you lather the soap onto his face, caressing his jaw. He places a hand on your exposed midriff and turns the both of you around so that he is facing the trees while you start calmly shaving his face, fingers moving to taut the skin, cleaning the razor every so often trying hard not to focus on Santiago’s fingers on your skin. 

You start to sing softly in Tamil, to act nonchalant, and watch as Santiago’s eyes scan the trees rapidly over your head. 

“I count two to the right.” He whispers back, tilting his head up to allow you better access. You place a finger to his lips to shush him and after a while you turn his head, starting on the other side.

Are they still watching? You sign. 

Santiago nods, barely. 

You finish shaving his face and wipe the access soap off with your fingers, leaving a small kiss on his nose which took him by surprise but he didn’t react, knowing that they were undercover. He pulled you in for a hug and murmured in your hair “Whatever happens, just trust me”. He kisses your forehead and pulls away, giving you a small smile, grabbing onto your hand, leading you into the hut.

Once inside, Santiago rushed around to get dressed and you frantically packed all the stuff you had into the one bag that you brought, along with Santiago’s stuff and stuffed it under a pile of hay. Santiago grabbed the satellite phone and called Frankie. You watch as he paces around speaking in frantic Spanish giving orders to his team mate.

 For days now he’s been in contact with Frankie, giving him the information that they have been collecting. Just before he could put the phone down, a knock sounded at the door. You tossed Santiago a dupatta and he quickly covered his face as you crossed the floor towards the door. 

“Who’s there?” You say in Tamil as you open the door, revealing three men. 

“Hello, kanna, we would like to ask you and your husband a few questions.” One of the men answered, smiling. 

They all looked like village folk but you’ve never seen their faces before. You turned and signed to Santiago and he nodded his head. Stepping back, you grab onto Santiago’s arm and the both of you sit cross legged in front of the men. 

You answered their questions with an unwavering face after telling them that your husband was deaf and dumb. You also tell them the same sob story that you had been telling the village people. 

One of the men leaned forward and grabbed your thali, harshly pulling you with it as they observed it. You feel Santiago flinch beside you as you beg them to not hurt you. They push you down by your shoulders making you gasp. 

“We’re going to ask you again. Who are you and who is he?” One of the men snarled into your face as you tried to recoil away. 

“Please, please don’t hurt me and my husband. Don’t hurt him, he doesn’t know what's going on.” You pleaded and wailed, trying to get away from the question. 

“Hey guys, look here, he's not Indian, is he?”At the corner of your eye, another one of the men had ripped your dupatta off Santiago’s face and your heart stops. 

“I think we need to take these two to our boss.” You noticed that Santiago wasn’t doing anything to defend himself as they pushed him towards you. 

“Don’t say anything, let them capture us.” Santiago whispers into your ear. 

He was offering you and him up as bait. You looked into his eyes and went with it. Went with the trust that you had built up with him over the two and a half weeks. 

You nod as the men bound your hands and blindfold you. You let yourself be dragged up by them and then they lead you out of the hut into the forest. Your bare feet hurt against the harsh forest floor but you didn’t say a single word. 

After what felt like hours you hear yourself approaching different voices, not of the men who kidnapped you and Santiago. You were pushed into your knees and you heard Santiago groan beside you, slight relief spreading through you when you heard his voice. 

Your blindfold was ripped off and you blinked, adjusting to the light. You first turned to Santiago who was kneeling uncomfortably beside you, his beautiful face caked with sweat, curls scruffy. Then you turned to the person who was standing in front of you, trying to decipher his features. 

“What do we have here? An American and a village woman. What an unlikely pairing.” He says in English. “Let me get straight to the point. Tell us who you are and we will decide our next course of action.” 

Santiago stayed silent, staring up at the man, gaze unflattering. 

“Military? CIA? Police? RAW?” The man stepped closer to you, lifting your chin up to face him. He was a big bald man with a giant mustache.

You and Santiago stay silent. 

“Looks like we have to bring out the big guns.” The man says, gesturing to his henchmen.

“You don’t have to worry, chellam, I don’t hit women.” He says to you, squeezing your cheek, your eyes widening with fear. 

Then the torture started. They started to hit Santiago with such brutality that you couldn’t help but scream. It went on for so long and you screamed at them to stop until your throat was sore. 

Santiago was bloody and battered and yet, he still didn’t say a single word. After a while the henchmen gave up, throwing the both of you into a closed cell. 

Santiago’s POV

The room around him spun uncontrollably and pain soared through him in horrible waves. He felt like he was reaching a light, trying to grasp it. No. It wasn’t a light, it was a sound. He tried grasping onto it, but it kept slipping away. Then he felt it, a soft nudge beside him and he grasped onto the sound, letting it envelop him.

It was her voice. She was pleading with him to stay with her, stay in the present, like she did yesterday when he awoke from the horrible nightmare. She was saying his name, and he clung onto that, the way it rolled off her tongue melodiously and reached his ears, canceling out all the ringing that he had been listening to for the past few minutes, or hours. 

He slowly opened his eyes, and focused on her form. She looked relatively unhurt but he could vaguely see tears streaming down her beautiful face. He tried to tell her that he was ok, but all he could do was taste iron in his mouth. He spat out the blood and shook his head, breathing in and out to steady the spinning. 

“Santiago, I need you to listen to me,” Y/N says, kicking her legs over his own outstretched ones. “I need you to pull my saree over my thigh and grab the knife that’s strapped to it.”

He nodded, still trying to process.

“Santi, come on, look at me, pull.” She whispers frantically, shaking her legs. 

His head snapped up at her again and he fumbled with her saree, trying to pull it up to gain access to the knife. Finally after several tries, he pushed the fabric over where the knife was and pulled it, holding it in front of him, unsure of what to do next. 

“Come on, free yourself.” She instructed and he turned the knife towards his bounded hands, autopilot taking over as he sawed himself loose. 

He leaned back, trying to blink away the pain as he focused on freeing her, so as to not cut her. 

The second he frees her, he hears gunshots and yelling. He laughs, completely delirious to the pain. 

“My boys are here.” He says as he slips into unconsciousness.

Your POV

Santiago falls back as you feel your hands slip out of the restraints. You hear him mumble something incoherent as you swung our legs off his own and start slapping him to keep him awake. 

“No, no, no, stay with me, you idiot.” You hiss, feeling his pulse. It was there, but faint. 

You pull his shirt up and run your fingers over his body in the dark, checking for any cuts. You feel something warm and wet, pulling back to smell the familiar twang of iron. You pull the pallu of your saree off your shoulder and use it to stem the bleeding, pressing hard with one hand, the other still slapping Santiago’s face. 

“Pope! Y/N! Where are you guys?” A familiar voice called out. 

“Frankie! Frankie, in here, in the cells, Santi’s bleeding out, please, I need a med pack, stat!” You yell as loud as your sore throat could handle. 

Frankie appears in front of you with full tactical gear and shoots the lock of the cell. In seconds, he got a flashlight and the med pack out. You examined the wound under the dim stream of light and it was still beading with blood. 

You instruct Frankie to douse the wound with disinfectant and your hands as you thread a needle. As fast as you possibly could, you sewed the wound shut.

You sigh and turn to Frankie, shaking your head. 

“I know, he’s a little stupid, but you’ll get use to it.” He smiles down at his unconscious friend. “We got the kids and the others are currently doing a headcount.”

“How did you guys find us?” You say, holding onto Santiago’s hand.

“He has a tracker on him and after that frantic phone call, we traced you guys here. Let me guess, he refused to speak?” He says, squinting at where your hand was.

“Yep, didn’t say a single word, the stubborn man. Your timing is impeccable. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if you didn’t turn up in time.” You say, your eyes welling up with fresh tears again.

“Hey, it's alright, let's get this man to the hospital, okay?” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey.” You hear a voice and you sit up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Hey, yourself. Do you know how stupid that was?” You glare at the man on the bed in front of you. 

“Mmm, kinda, but we’re alive right?” He says, giving you a smile.

You roll your eyes, biting your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling back at him. His eyes went slightly glassy as if he was thinking about something.

“What are you thinking about?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking him, snapping him out of his daze.

“Your tits.” He replied without hesitation.

“¿Qué? You know what, nevermind, I don’t even want to know.” Frankie says, making Santiago snap his head to his left where Frankie was lounging on a chair.

You massage your temples, embarrassment creeping up your face. 

“Oh, hi Catfish, didn’t see you there.” Santi grins.

“Well, good morning to you too, cabrón.” he says getting up and giving Santiago a kiss on his forehead, making him cringe into the pillows and you giggle at the sight.

Frankie left the room, closing the door behind him, not before uttering “No monkey business, you two.”

“Asshole,” Santiago chuckles, before turning back to you.

“You’ve got a lot of admirers who visited you.” you say, scanning his face.

You were so glad to be present during the reunion of the children and their parents. All of the children were relatively unharmed but the bruises on their wrist signified the burden of the trauma that they had to carry for the rest of their lives.

Santiago shifts and pats the bed. You hesitate, but eventually climb in, snuggling lightly into his side.

“I have to admit, you are growing on me, Pope.” You mutter as his good arm pulls you closer. 

“Mmm, I know.” He whispers, kissing your forehead.

“If you pull a stunt like that again, I swear, I will kill you myself.” You say in Tamil.

“I think we’re getting lost in translation, cariño.” He mumbles into your hair, slipping back into sleep. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Translation:

Jimmikis: A style of earring worn by women of the Indian subcontinent.

Ma: Indians usually call all women “ma”, can be a term of endearment but also is used casually.

Thaali: A mangala sutra, or thaali, is a necklace that the groom ties around the bride's neck in the Indian subcontinent. The necklace serves as a visual marker of status as a married Hindu woman. Mangala sutra's origin dates back to the 6th Century AD as a single yellow thread was tied around the bride for protection from other men and evil spirits. The term mangala sutra in Sanskrit means holy thread.

Dupatta: The dupattā is a shawl traditionally worn by women in Indian subcontinent to cover the head and shoulders 

Chica: Girl

Saree: A sari or saree is a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent,that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a stole, baring a part of the midriff.

Pallu: The loose end of a sari, worn over one shoulder or the head

Kumkum: AKA sindoor. Kumkum is a powder used for social and religious markings in India. It is either made from turmeric or saffron. The turmeric is dried and powdered with a bit of slaked lime, which turns the rich yellow powder into a red color. Kumkum is most often applied by Indians to the forehead

Pottu: A bindi or pottu is a coloured dot or, in modern times, a sticker worn on the center of the forehead, originally by Hindus, Sikhs, Buddhists and Jains from the Indian subcontinent.

Cariño: Sweetie

Princesa: Princess

Kanna: Sweetie

Chellam: Darling

¿Qué?: What?

Cabrón: Dumbass

[mypage4sure]

Hey, orginally I did not reply, because if I get a message in a car, I want to wait into I get home, but then I just never do it.

Anyway, today I found about an obscure show, so maybe you would like it, however it might actually be TOO obscure.

It's pale Force, shorts made by Jim Gaffigan and aired on Late Night with Conan O'Brien, during 1990s-2000s, there's no tv.tropes page, there is a wikipedia page, but it may be out of date, and the website it links to leads to the way back time machine version, the person who mentioned it also said that she couldn't find any fan of it, it's about too really pale superheroes.

Only problem, is that I don't think there's ANY fan work of if, I attempted to look for it, but nothing came up.

Here is the person I mentioned, in case you want to get into it and be around a fan, https://sailor-rose-princess.tumblr.com/post/747143692155011072/okay-thats-a-good-way-to-think-of-it-anyways

Here is where you can watch the episodes, https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLj4Ma7xmMj4u8WLHhWEpdUi4lMJSC73mn

I need to get some real obscure special interest and draw a shit ton of fanart of a blorbo no one's ever heard of. for my health

[penwieldingdreamer]

Just one Kiss

The third installment of my Daniel Ricciardo drabble/one-shot series. Also thank you so much for so many likes and reblogs on the other, too. I finally found a fandom again that I enjoy writing for, thank you guys.

If you're interested in the songs that inspire this, here's the Series Playlist

Happy reading. Let me know what you think.

I kept the reader as vague as possible. While writing I imagined a plus size! female! reader but you can think up whatever you want.

You had a shitty day at work, so Daniel invites you to stay with him in Monaco. In the end something might change for you both.

previous part

Warnings: fluff, some angst

Words: 2203

Come to Monaco, take some time off. We’ll go hiking and swimming, you’ll love it.

You read and re-read his message. Daniel had sent you the plane tickets after yet another lengthy call about your crazy boss who was complaining all the time. Covid had hit every business, but just like everyone else you weren’t able to change it and you couldn’t get people inside the shop to buy enough cars to keep your boss afloat.

Each and every day, no matter how hard you worked he wasn’t happy with your performance, even though all he did was sit inside his office and drink the expensive whiskey a friend gave him. 

You had joked about looking for a millionaire boyfriend and stop working if you found yourself with such a boss each time you changed workplaces. The Aussie had laughed at that, telling you he’d be there, providing for everything. “Don’t do that, I’d be stamped as a gold digger.”

“Fuck ‘em, I’d still do it.” His voice was hard but still making you laugh. “Besides, you’d be a great WAG.”

Smiling at his omission, you thanked him but couldn’t help picturing what life would be like if you did end up with the F1 driver. The glitz and glamor wasn't something you needed, but joining him on one of his trips or at races definitely had its perks. After that you had talked about his upcoming race in Spain and the one back in Silverstone where he ended up on P14, not something he wanted. Not for the team and especially for himself. 

“You’ll get on the podium again, Danny, it will come. Stay positive.” You tried to encourage but heard the doubt in his voice.

“I know, it’s just, I don't have a good feeling with the car. It’s working great one day and the next something is wrong. I don’t know.”

A few hours later you found his message and the link to the tickets on your phone and you knew saying No was not an option. You answered him with a grinning emoji, knowing the Renault driver was already awake and waiting for your reply.

Get ready to dine and wine me, loverboy.

The next day at work you put in your vacation time and left your boss’ office before he could comment on it. You knew he wasn’t happy with you being gone for two weeks, but since you had started working for him you had about two days off from work in the last year. 

“You dare leave with such short notice when it’s the busiest time of the year? I need you here, Y/N!” he called, standing at his desk and gripping your letter before you could close the door.

"I dare to. Work is slow anyway, with the pandemic people don't want to buy cars right now."

Grumbling, he sat back down. "Just make sure you'll do a better job than before so people actually come back. With your mood swings I'd not buy a car from you, too."

Swallowing the cuss, you gave him a tight nod before leaving the office. If you didn't need that job you'd probably have given that idiot a piece of your mind but at the moment he was still paying you more than your last workplace.

Back at your own desk you shot a quick text to Daniel, wishing him luck for the race in Spain and that you couldn't wait for the weekend to be over very quickly.

Three more days, babes, and you'll enjoy the Côte d'Azur. We'll meet in Nice at the airport, I'll be waiting at your gate.

True to his words the weekend was over faster than you thought and Daniel had sent you a voice message in the morning reminding you to have all your essentials, travel documents and to bring the happiest mood now that you would spend two weeks with the Honey Badger himself. You didn't know how he always did it, he was such a happy-go-lucky guy, although sometimes having a bad day, but just picturing his smile while he sent that voice made your day brighter. 

The plane ride was uneventful, even with the pandemic. All you had to do was keep your mask on and everyone was happy. Music was something you probably shared with Danny, you needed it when you were traveling, driving, cooking or just reading a book sometimes. Music made everything better and lifted the mood a bit, so thanks to some of the songs the Aussie had recommended, the journey to Nice, France had been faster than you thought.

You felt giddy, knowing he would be waiting for you at the arrival gate, hopefully in the same mood as he had that morning, knowing the weekend hadn't gone as planned for him as he wanted to. The plane finally touched down, passengers clapping and whooping loudly before you heard the snaps and clicks of the belts being loosened. Sometimes you wondered why people couldn't wait until you reached the parking spot. The doors wouldn't be opened before then, so why bother being the first to grab your shit when you'd still have to wait patiently. Shaking your head, you turned your phone back on.

You sent a quick message to your friend and family, letting them know you got there okay and one to Danny, so he knew you were about to meet him. With him being a famous driver you didn't know how many people might recognize him, if some at all with having to wear the masks and didn't want him to be in the middle of all of that. Although he once told you he didn't mind at all, but with it being this early he was confident it was smooth riding from there on.

Can't wait to see you, babes.

You chuckled at the nickname he gave you. He started a few weeks ago and when you asked him about it, the Aussie explained that it was the nickname for baby or mini potatoes.

"So, I'm a potato now?"

“No, you’re my baby potato.” His laugh had echoed through the speaker and you couldn’t help the grin that stole itself onto your lips as you thought back to it.

Grabbing your travel bag from the overhead compartment you stood and followed the passengers out of the plane. You couldn’t wait to get out of that crowd and see Danny again. It had been too long since you had time off and spending your free time with him was such a privilege. He was literally the sun, even when he had a bad day, he wanted to make his friends and loved ones smile no matter what.

Walking out of the gate, you finally were able to lose the throng of people that had traveled with you. That’s when you found him standing there in his merch hoodie, sunglasses and a mask. 

“Babes, fuck I missed that smile.” He pulled you closer, his arms circling around your shoulders. Michael was sitting opposite the gate at a small cafe area, enjoying a light breakfast. "Did you have breakfast?"

You shook your head, food hadn’t been on your mind this early in the morning. Your flight had left at dawn and plane food was never something you enjoyed, so you nibbled on the cookies and granola bar you had bought before take off. “I hoped I could get something here, enjoy the ocean view and sun.”

The Aussie chuckled, nodding over at Michael who had finished his coffee and scrambled eggs. “We’ll get your luggage, take a car to Monaco and then enjoy an amazing breakfast with a view.”

The drive to Monaco and Daniel’s home there was about half an hour but the scenery that flew past was the most beautiful you had seen in a while. The waters were so blue and even the mountains on the other side looked beautiful. Before you knew it the car was in the garage of the apartment complex. 

After a big brunch outside on the apartment balcony, enjoying the view down to the Port de Cap-d’Ali yacht club, the Aussie took you down to the beach. 

“Did you ever make a decision you might in the end think was the wrong one?” He asked you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

You looked over at him, your hand instinctively moving to his elbow. “What’s going on, Daniel? I’ve never seen you so down before.”

Sighing, Daniel shook his head. “I, fuck, I’m not sure. With the DNF in Austria and the car's performance I asked for a seat at McLaren. I’m still finishing my contract but I don’t know if getting that ball rolling was right. I just want to race and get back on the podium.”

“Why didn't you tell me before, huh? We're friends. Are you really sure this is what you want? Changing teams, I mean. You know I’ll have your back, no matter what you do.” He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “What did your agent say to that? And Cyril?”

Daniel laid a kiss onto your temple. “He’s on board I think, it’s just so fucking annoying. I try to get it working, I have a few good positions and then it’s fucked up again. Most of all I miss my cheerleader at the track. And well, Cyril is…he's not happy but we're amicable and I try to get the points in, so at least it will be a split on good grounds. I thought he was never going to talk to me again.”

“I guess I can understand that. I wouldn't be happy, too, if my star driver talked with other teams after the first race. But it is your life, your decision in the end and as long as you try I think that's more than you can say about other people. Just think it through very well and take it day by day. Also, I'd be there more often, but I can’t get out of work all the time even if I wanted to. But you know I’m always watching you race and keeping you in my prayers.”

The Aussie let out a soft laugh. “You sound like my mum, she’s doing the same with every race.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Your mum’s not wrong to do that, it’s a risky business you’re enjoying. But it’s what you love so I guess there’s no way you’ll be quitting now.”

“Definitely not, but I’m glad you’re here now.” He stopped suddenly, his long fingers brushing a few loose strands out of your face. Daniel’s eyes locked with yours, switching down to look at your lips. Before you could react, his plush lips were on yours. His free hand moved behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

Your own hands moved from his arms up to his shoulders, holding onto him with all your might, your knees already buckling from the sensations. The last time you had kissed him was back in Australia. That summer had haunted you for months - but in a good way if you were honest. You still felt his touch every night even when Daniel wasn’t there and for the longest time you had dreamed of getting that feeling back.

He pulled away, looking at your serene face. Your eyes were still closed and he couldn’t help the satisfied grin. “I really wanted to do that when you came to Silverstone.”

"There's still COVID, we should have been more careful. What if you"

"Fuck COVID, all I could think about was that smile and your lips. Kept me up at night every fucking day."

“Well, good things come to those who wait.” You returned his grin once you had looked back at him. Daniel had that broad grin he usually wore and you felt your insides tingle. “What’s it mean now?”

Shrugging his shoulders the F1 driver brushed his thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t know but I’d like to see where we're going. Take it day by day, ya know.”

“That’s a great idea I think.” You stood up on your tiptoes, grabbing his cheeks and pushing your lips against his for another kiss. 

Just one kiss had changed your dynamic from friends to something more and you couldn’t wait to explore where it might lead you.

The days after you spent swimming, hiking and just exploring Monaco and the area around the principality. You'd keep your relationship under wraps from the rest of the world for now, not an easy feat with him being a famous Formula 1 driver, but it didn't mean you had to sneak around. Daniel took you on a few dates and you promised to try and be at a few more races, staying at the Renault garage, rooting for your favorite Aussie. You also met his friends and saw Max again, enjoying the time out on the water with them and knew he had needed that time off from all the drama since the start of the season, not just with the pandemic but with the Renault-McLaren issue, too.

next part

[luvdsc]

renegade or whatever.

dancing is not on your list of interests, but park jisung definitely is.

pairing :: park jisung x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,001 words warnings :: none playlist :: bright (echosmith) ⋆ it’s yours (nct dream) ⋆ message in a bottle (taylor swift) ⋆ cutie (coin) ⋆ peachy (bad suns) author’s note :: the series has finally been revived, let’s goo !! jisung bestest boy ever so of course, I had to write his next ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

There are three things in life Park Jisung is absolutely terrified of.

Okay, that’s a big fat lie, and even he knows it. There are actually many things he’s scared of, but that would take forever to list, so here are the top three, starting from the bottom:

#3. His mom when she’s mad at him (deserved).

She found out he bet Chenle all his meal points that Jaemin would confess to his best friend before she would (Spoiler: he ate ramen everyday for a whole semester. Luckily, Mark sucks at buying groceries online and ordered too many bulk boxes of that instant MSG filled goodness).

#2. Bugs and ghosts.

Both float or fly around and always come out of nowhere. So yeah, he’s putting them together. Also, he’s never going to forgive Donghyuck for convincing him to swap cameraman duties because he ended up filming the Mothman episode for Dream Unsolved while Donghyuck got to enjoy three lobster rolls at three drastically different price points.

Combining his two second tier fears? That’s a recipe for the: Worst. Night. Ever. It was so bad, he wanted to give it a zero (out of five stars), but Renjun said that’s not possible. So he gave it a one. But it’s still a zero in his books.

#1. Confessing to his best friend.

One new notification: luvdsc uploaded a new video!

[PINNED] luvdsc commented:

jk this is totally clickbait 🤪 april fools, honey bees !!! 🥳

goofys.chuckle commented:

crop pls

jenojam replied: ????

jisungpwark commented:

uh where’s my video ????

honeyfairy replied: we were robbed 💔

morklyrawr commented:

wait i don’t see anything

moonminjun replied: it’s a joke mark.....

suhprisemf commented:

what the flute

nanaislove commented:

unfriended blocked reported where’s my jisung content 🥺😭🤬🤬

peachyangel replied: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏 yeah👍 mama🤰say it’s my👧😣fault🥺😢 my fault😭😞 i wear my heart💝 on my sleeve👕

bigheadking commented:

aww that sucks! anyway here’s the recipe for brownies: 1/2 cup powdered sugar 2 eggs 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil 1 1/2 cups sugar 1/2 cup dark chocolate chips 3/4 teaspoons sea salt 2/3 cup cocoa powder 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract 3/4 cup flour 2 tablespoons water

notanimpasta replied: link in my bio for the recipe !

sheepsh commented:

emotional damage 😟

luvdsc commented:

come back soon, honey bees !!  🐝🤍✨

apado_god commented:

not nice 😎👎🏻

CLICK TO SUBSCRIBE ( real not clickbait !!! )

[cower-before-power]

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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

“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon.  “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles.  “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey​ @chaotic-nick​ @manjiroarchiviste​

[friendlyneighborhooddolan]

Little Wing

warnings: This story has some descriptive stuff. Age gap (7 years). Sexual and graphic things, alcohol and drug use. Trigger warning for this part: brief mention of drug abuse

pairing: Kylo Ren x reader

summary: If he says please really nicely... Awkward firsts.

word count: 1.8K

Masterlist

The new masterlist link – it's a masterlist just for this fic. It includes a bit of a summary for the next part and it also has links for spotify playlists – one for Kylo, one for Angel, one for the whole fic.

Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

P.S. I accidentally uploaded pt 8 yesterday and I am uploading this one early because of that. I did remove ch 8, but for everyone who's seen it -- I'm sorry :)

Chapter seven

“No, Cardo, the girl – It’s maddening,” Kylo spoke, his rich baritone filling the room. There was no trace of his outburst, the kitchen all fixed, shards of glass nowhere to be found. The only proof that anything ever happened was the bruising on Kylo’s knuckles. 

“But what did she exactly do?” The man across from him replied, trying to get an insight of what Kylo Ren was thinking. He held a bottle of beer in his hands, crouched on a couch. Kylo was drinking whiskey across from him.

“I – I just have this ugly urge to protect her, you know what I mean? I just need to have her close, to be near her all the time. If she doesn’t touch me, I feel like I’m going to burst,” Kylo was rambling now. Cardo laughed. 

“Kylo, I’ve known you since high school and never once did you look like that when talking about a girl,” the man said. Kylo looked at him, all confused. “Continue, tell me what she did that is so goddamn maddening.”

“She’s always so calm and she calls me Ren – And I think she’s the only person that didn’t get their jaw dislocated when she said it. She always makes thing so fucking complicated, and listen – She liked me playing Little Wing for her. I am such a bad singer, Cardo,” Kylo took a gulp of the whiskey. Cardo smiled, Kylo obviously liked the girl more than he let on.

“She called me Ben and didn’t die.”

“Oh shit, she knows?” Cardo’s eyebrows furrowed, “Holy fuck, that’s a whole other problem by itself –”

“Shut up, Cardo. That’s what’s maddening – She knows her father died, but she doesn’t know the whole story. How am I supposed to tell her anything when she just yells at me whenever I try to? The other night she called me at like 2 in the morning – someone drugged her, but she called me,” Kylo continued.

“Kylo, you like her.”

“Well yes –” Kylo started, but Cardo clicked his tongue.

“No, Kylo, you like her,” he emphasized the word, and it made Kylo widen his eyes. He stood up, leaving his whiskey on the table.

“Wait here.”

Kylo Ren was knocking on her front door in less than thirty seconds. As soon as she opened the door, he let out an exhale. He didn’t have to deal with her annoying friends for now.

“Hello?” She rolled her eyes.

“Angel,” he mumbled out, “This is for you.” His hand held a letter. She stared up at him, perplexed. “Uh, I wrote it last night. Sorry if it doesn’t sound good.” He scratched the back of his head, not knowing what else to do with his free hand.

The girl softly took it from her neighbor’s hand, awkwardly nodding her head.

“I – Uh – I better go. Bye, Angel.”

“See ya, Kylo.”

Y/N opened the letter immediately, and there, with his neat handwriting stood:

Dear Angel,

If you’re reading this, I am dead, or my friends made me give this to you. I’d rather it be the first one, I’m sure it was awkward if it was the latter. Anyways, either way, you deserve to know the real story.

I don’t really believe in ghosts. Except for the ones that have my name. My old name, I mean. I don’t believe in ghosts except the ones I find sitting at my kitchen island in the morning, the ones gone by the time anyone else comes into the room. I don’t really believe in ghosts, but they make for great imagery. All things that are no more but can fill a room. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I believe in the way my hands shake when I think of the past. I believe in the presence of something impossible. In things once buried, coming back for more. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I believe in haunting.

You know the truth already. My name is Ben Solo. I mean my birth name, the one that comes back, the one that will haunt me forever. Old things tend to have strange hunger, I guess. I changed it so I don’t get compared to my father, like, ever. And there is something else.

When I was sixteen, your father and my father made a deal – he’d teach me the ways of the family in exchange for you being safe. He loved you, even if you didn’t know it, my dearest. 

So he took me under his wing while my father escaped to Italy for a few years. Personal reasons. Anyways, your father took me under his wing, treated me like his own. 

Everything I know about life, I know from him. Even that unsettling urge to take care of you.

When I was 20, my mother died. It wasn’t a horrible death or anything really. She just fell asleep never to wake up again. 

I was distraught, and your father had been my only support. I did some really fucked up stuff then – coke was one of the least messed up ones. I went looking for trouble just so I could feel something again. I’m really not sure how my brain cells and my sinuses and my heart survived that age, but I’m glad they did. I am self-destructive when I’m angry, and God, was I angry.

One day, I messed up pretty badly when I just wanted to take a walk. Imagine, I didn’t kill myself with the alcohol and the drugs, no. I almost killed myself by taking a walk. Your father had warned me not to go to that neighborhood, and I thought he wouldn't follow me. He usually never did. He chose to protect me, Han never told him to.

What I didn’t know, there was an ambush. I was a prized possession of my father’s, his only son who would inherit the title in the business as soon as Han Solo passed away. 

Your father jumped out of nowhere, I really didn’t know what happened. He jumped in front of me, to save my life. Brendol Hux pulled the trigger, and I wouldn’t have noticed because I was taking a fucking walk and listening to some fucking music playing really loud in my earbuds.

He told me he did it for you. Don’t know why, but I distinctly remember him saying that. And I remember him asking me, Han Solo’s son, to protect you, with his last breath. And I promised. I promised I’d protect you with my life. 

As soon as I could, I bought a house in your neighborhood, changed my name, and just moved there. 

I rarely hear from my father, he’s in Italy. Retired. 

I didn’t want to change my name, but it was for the better. You knew nothing of Han Solo’s son, but your mother knew he was responsible for your father’s horrible death. For that I’m sorry. I wish I could change the past, but that is impossible. That doesn’t stop it from haunting me every day.

Either way, I have told my truth. I didn’t murder your father, Armitage Hux’ father did. Now you know why I hate him, my dear. He took away, not only your father, but my only parental figure. 

I am so sorry. I have no other words to offer, my only one. 

Yours truly,

K.R.

Cardo left as soon as Kylo explained the whole situation to him, realizing that there are two ways this could go: the girl would come over and then they’d end up together, or the girl would come over and leave Kylo forever. Neither of those situations were for Cardo to be involved into, so he just left.

And then, three knocks on his door. Kylo hurries to the door, and Y/N takes him in. His hair was messy from his nervous hands not finding home anywhere else. His cheeks were flushed and his face carried an expression of worry. 

“Angel. Come in,” his voice trembled. She’d never seen him like this. In her mind, he was always this calm, confident persona who could never get scared or worried.

As soon as Kylo closed the door, Y/N burst into tears, coming up on her toes to slap him. Kylo swallowed. He deserved it, after all. 

And then she hugged him. Kylo smiled, him tearing up too. They fell to their knees, and it seemed like Y/N was crying into his chest for what felt like hours.  He murmured acknowledgement into the top of her head, kissing it with every word he spoke out, his heart clenching with every sob that ripped from her. After her eyes dried up, she decided to look up at Kylo, all teared up and Kylo thought she couldn’t get prettier than she was. Her eyelashes were wet with tears, her cheeks reddened, lips puffy. 

“You’re so beautiful, Angel,” Kylo muttered out. His palms find their way to the sides of her face now – his thumb touching her mouth. He was drawing it as if it were something his hand was sketching, as if for the first time her mouth opened slightly, all he had to do is close his eyes to erase it and start all over again, every time he can make the mouth he wants appear, the mouth which his hands chooses and sketches on her face, and which, by some chance he doesn’t seek to understand, coincides exactly with her mouth that smiles beneath the one his hand is sketching for her.

She looks at him, from close up she looks at him, closer closer closer and then they play cyclops, they look closer and closer to one another and their eyes get larger, they merge into one and the two cyclops look at each other, blending as they breathe, their mouths touch and struggle in gentle warmth, biting each other with their lips, barely holding their tongues on their teeth, playing in corners where heavy air comes and mixes with his perfume and silence. His hands go into her hair, cherishing her slowly while they kiss as if their mouths were filled with flowers or honey, with lively movements and dark fragrance. If they bite each other, the pain is sweet, and if they smother each other in a brief and terrible breath together, that momentary death is beautiful. There is only one of them, one flavor of ripe fruit, and Kylo feels her tremble against him like a moon on the water.

"And so are you," she answers when they part.