#llp-reblog

[bread-squid-uwu]

Bonus: Laurance

Since he wasn't in LLP, here is his reference for Starlight/WAF, sitting at home while the others are fighting for their lives.

More people need to put this man in a tank top.

Just queued reblogs of my other redesign posts, might as well queue this one that I totally didn't forget to post

[attourney-at-lycan]

https://www.tumblr.com/dilftesbiggestfan/695475051954339840/dante-cheated1111-so-did-nana-7-times-at

im not the og anon but here's a good summary of the llp dancole shitfest

god

im so sorry i fucking hate the whole situation so much- IT PISSES ME OFF SO MUCH ARHHJJHJH

even if it was a slightly comedic situation it's just... so annoying the way it played out

also holy shit i reblogged this post before

[telltalebatman]

@llp-reblog replied to your photoset “i think it’s safe to assume that my friend’s new cat likes me”

JAKI SLODZIAK

jest mega słodki!!!! i linieje jak pojebany, przyniosłam tyle futra do domu, że zaraz sobie drugiego takiego ulepię ;__;

[blargberries]

OOOOMg, I love your art, especial this one with Nishinoya! I have this on my laptop's wallpaper and it's always cheer me up

OHMYGOSH WHHAAT (////) thank you so much!!! im so sorry for this late reply but I hope you know you’re message really made me happy i’m kinda mind boggled someone has my work as their wallpaper

[iv-kplpt]

aaand Octavia?

Full Name: octavia the water witch. no surname, witches don’t use thoseGender and Sexuality: she’s a lesbianPronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: a witch, which i kind of consider to be a separate species? not quite human blood, old blood, magical blood. actually i might make octavia into a source of my superheroes powers.Birthplace and Birthdate: she was born a loooong time ago near venice, during the rule ofno, im sorry, i cant just say that, i cant. DOGE CONTARINI. fucking english translations of non-english terms, man.Guilty Pleasures: she doesn’t know the term nor she needs toPhobias: well, she’s a witch from an old witch family. i’d say she’s quite afraid of fire, even though it can’t really hurt her.What They Would Be Famous For: she’s the last witch of her branch, her mother and sisters either died or disappeared, and yet - octavia remained.What They Would Get Arrested For: also for being a witch. and in certain time periods - for being gay.OC You Ship Them With: margarita, both the original and her descendant.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: jared williamson has some weird problem with lesbians.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: period dramasLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: the only girl in a boys clubTalents and/or Powers: she’s a water witch, meaning: she can control the water particles, she can use water as a way of communication, she can use it as a source of information (she can ask a river what happened by its bank and the water will reply), and - to a smaller degree - can communicate and control water-bound creatures, like ensuring the local fishermen will always catch enough to feed their families.Why Someone Might Love Them: that’s a question she also asks herself.Why Someone Might Hate Them: she’s a witch, a powerful one.How They Change: she comes out of her shell and starts living againWhy You Love Them: because she’s a sad girl!

[ozcobblehot-archive]

Enssi

my least developed hetero boy (he’s one of my Token Straights lmao)

Full Name: just enssi. he never reveals his second name to anyone, because of reasons - “reasons” meaning “he ran away from his abusive family and doesn’t want to be found”.Gender and Sexuality: straight cis manPronouns: he/himEthnicity/Species: he’s a white person from one of the nordic countries. which one? nobody knows for sure. but that’s okay, his friends love him anyway.Birthplace and Birthdate: somewhere in the north, some years before. see? he’s like that. (he’s siergiej’s age, and siergiej is 20-30 during the story.)Guilty Pleasures: he kind of feels like his love for puppies ruins his #look. it doesn’t.Phobias: ableism towards people with adhd. What They Would Be Famous For: being a damn good chef with adhd and severe depressionWhat They Would Get Arrested For: that one time he decked florek in saski. people saw. nobody called the cops, luckily. (they sorted it out.)OC You Ship Them With: marilou! she’s his girlfriend and eventually they marry.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: siergiej, his best friend. see, the person enssi decked is siergiej’s future boyfriend - so it would probably end up badly if he found out.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: epic fantasy. not very original.Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: “loving someone DESPITE their flaws”.Talents and/or Powers: great chef, good artist, knows a lot about bikes.Why Someone Might Love Them: he’s a good listener with great sense of humor.Why Someone Might Hate Them: he has jealousy issues.How They Change: he works through his issues and starts to genuinely believe in his self worth.Why You Love Them: i never said i do.

[moro-nokimi]

what have i done to god to end up like this

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Take My Hand (Part Four)

Summary: doing what you think is best for another person never ends well (four of ??? parts - more parts to come!) 

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Reader, Rafael Barba x Reader 

Word Count: 7,579

Song: I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush / I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush (gold rush by taylor swift) 

Warnings: T, lots of angst, but a happy ending? 

A/N: thank you to all of you for reading, your comments and reblogs have kept me going! thank you to @laneygthememequeen​ and @bucky-of-the-opera​ for being the best beta readers!! 

“Rafael, you don’t have to leave—” Sonny crossed his arms, as Rafael raised an eyebrow at him over his drink, sipping at his scotch mournfully, “McCoy said you could still work—” 

“You know a lawyer’s reputation is everything, Carisi,” he swirled what remained of his drink in his glass, “it’s our main commodity, and mine has been taken out back and shot — by my own hand,” he downs the rest of the drink, “besides,” he sighs, “there’s nothing left for me here.” 

Sonny frowns, sipping at his own drink, “What’re gonna do next?” Rafael shrugs, “I think I’ll broaden my horizons— this is the first time since before law school that I haven’t had a plan for my life — it’s just wide open.” 

“And that’s?” 

“Terrifying, surprising — I never thought I’d have to start over at this point in my career, but,” he leans against the counter, “it’s a change,” and then he looks over at Sonny, “and what about you?” 

He furrows his brow, “What about me?” 

“Are you going to apply for the opening in the D.A.’s office?” Sonny nearly chokes on his drink, “come on, Carisi, you’re more than qualified.” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t know — I’m not sure if I’m ready for that change quite yet, besides,” he shifts in his seat, “I heard from Liv that McCoy has someone else in mind for the job.” 

“Stone?” Rafael asks, and Sonny tilts his head, “I may not be in that office, but it doesn’t change the fact that it leaks like a rusty faucet.” 

“If you know that—” 

“Sonny, a piece of advice,” Rafael turns to face him, one elbow on the counter, “no one job is forever — Stone may last a while, he may not — but get your name in the ring at least because the next time the position is open, they’ll look to you—” 

“But—” 

“You have been part of the squad, you’ve seen these cases for years, you’re an officer and you have the education to back it up,” he pulls his wallet out, waving off Carisi, and placing a few bills on the counter, “Look, you went to law school for a reason right? If you keep making excuses, you won’t be able to do the good you could do.” 

Sonny knew, he knew that he should but— “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to handle it,” 

Rafael raises an eyebrow, “You are a detective in one of the toughest units in the NYPD and you went to law school at the same time — I think you’ll be fine.” 

Sonny blinks, trying to hide his smile, “Thank you — for everything. I’ve appreciated you mentoring me these past years.” 

Rafael gives a small chuckle at that, “You shouldn’t be thanking me,” 

Sonny tilts his head, “Then who should I be thanking?” 

Your name leaves his lips, and Sonny frowns, “I didn’t really want to mentor you, but with some encouragement, well—” he shrugs, “my point is there’s no need to thanks, at least not me.” 

A sentence burns on his tongue, hot as the anger sitting on his chest, and I should thank the person who cut me out of their life without any to-do? But Sonny doesn’t say that, he only smiles — as always. 

He didn’t want to admit how much it hurt when you left. When you didn’t say goodbye. When you quit without warning. When you left him with nothing but a note and no explanation, only the feeling of your lips on his. 

But it did hurt.

Especially because he didn’t know if it was because of him. He didn’t presume himself to be that important in your life — and maybe he wasn’t with how easily you had removed yourself from his life — but what other explanation was there really? 

“I should go,” Rafael slips off the stool, pulling his coat on, and he holds out his hand to Sonny, “I hope to see you again sometime, Detective,” 

Sonny offers a smile, shaking his hand, “Counselor, I expect to hear things about what you do next.” 

“Same to you — your name is associated with me, I can't have you sullying it, now can I?” but then he grimaces, shrugging, “well, at least the bar is low.” 

“Bye, Rafael,” and he nods, disappearing out the door, and Sonny straightens his coat, walking towards the door, before glancing at the bar stool you had sat at the night he picked you up — so much had changed and in so little time. 

“How long has it been, Jack?” you skip the handshake for a hug, sliding into the booth across from him. 

“Far too long,” he sighs, already had ordered his own food, “I heard about the stir you’re making in the Bronx,” he splits his chopsticks, dousing in his food in a very modest amount of sriracha, as you raise a questioning eyebrow at his remark, “The Brown case — I heard an earful from the Bronx D.A. about that case.” 

You shake your head, ordering yourself a soda, “It was his fault that he didn’t have proper chain of custody on that evidence—” 

“I know,” Jack nods, “it was a good catch.” 

“Thank you,” you smile, pleased with yourself, “although I suspect this isn’t just for you to compliment me on my exceptional work.” 

“Developed an ego at No-Go?” you roll your eyes at his “loving” nickname for your firm, Noble-Gordon LLP, before shrugging, “you know you could start your own practice and make more money.” 

“I could, but I also wouldn’t get some control over where their pro bono hours go,” you order your food, stirring your drink with a straw, “now what do you want McCoy? And then I can bore you with the details of my life plan.” 

Jack smiles, “Always straight to the point, huh, counselor?” he leans back, “what do you think of Detective Carisi?” 

You furrow your brow, “Sonny? Is something—” 

“Nothing is wrong,” Jack waved you off, “but what was your opinion of him?” 

You tilt your head, “As what? Detective, a barred attorney, or person?” 

Jack raises an eyebrow, “Let’s start with detective, and then we’ll get to the other two,” 

You pause — how could you describe Sonny? “When he first started, I didn’t know what to think of Sonny — he was eager to learn, but green,” you suppress a snort at the thought of him the unfortunate incidents of him pestering victims and suspects alike, “but despite that, he was always willing to learn, quick on his feet. He was good with the victims, maybe not at first, but he’s a seasoned detective now, and I have confidence in his skills.” 

“And as an attorney?” 

“Well, I never was around to see him get barred,” and you feel a twinge of guilt crawl up your throat — you had promised to help him study, promised to help him celebrate — you didn’t do either, “but when he applied his legal knowledge to cases we worked on together and while shadowing at the Manhattan office, he showed aptitude, skill, and passion.” 

“And as a person?” 

You smile softly, “Sonny is kind, to a fault, but he’s practical, he knows there are grays to S.V.U. cases — he’s seen them firsthand. He knows how to handle tough cases, while having the empathy to handle victims,” Jack nods, sipping at his drink, “now I assume you’re asking for a reason?” 

“Stone resigned,” Jack sighs, “effective immediately — and we’re looking for someone to get their foot in the door — quick.” 

“Peter? What—” 

“It wasn’t the right fit,” he shook his head, “he’s landing on his feet — don’t worry.” 

You frowned, you didn’t know Peter personally, but you had heard stories of him and his father — both were legendary, “I’m sorry to hear that, but,” you tilt your head, “you’re considering Sonny for the position?” 

“Yes, and now hearing what you had to say, I think I will," and you smile, "after an interview, of course." 

"Of course," you shake your head, "I remember interviewing with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "And?" 

"I think I convinced myself you thought I was a moron, until you gave me the offer after a week," he shrugs. 

"Had to make you sweat," he purses his lips, "do you regret saying yes?" 

You glance at the bar, a frown pressing onto your lips, "I regret a lot of things," and your food arrives at the table, and you break your chopsticks, smiling, "but never that." 

You were not happy. 

You hurried up the steps of the Manhattan courthouse — steps you had hoped you wouldn’t have had to hurry up ever again — not only had this case been unceremoniously dumped on the firm with a notice of one whole day, but it had been shafted to you with a whole two hours notice after one of your junior associates called out sick. 

Sick or hungover? You couldn’t tell over from the 4:00 AM message left on your voicemail, but by the sounds of the clinking glasses in the background — they certainly didn’t have the flu.

This was not only the son of one of your firm’s biggest clients — the firm practicing not only criminal defense but also some business law matters. It was a simple case — a white first time offender on a petty marijuana possession — he would likely get no jail time, and get time served at most — with an expungement in the near future. 

But that wasn’t the problem. 

The crime was committed and the son charged in the jurisdiction of Manhattan, so that meant this was in a Manhattan courtroom, one that you hadn’t stepped into in what — two, nearly three years? 

And on top of it all, there was the matter of who the prosecutor was. A silent curse muttered under your breath as you rushed to the courtroom — and it was someone you hadn’t seen in about the same amount of time. 

Why a sex crimes prosecutor was covering for a narcotics case — you didn’t know, but you figured it was either a chance to learn the ropes in different departments or the D.A. needed someone to cover, and the new guy drew the short straw. 

Just your luck.

You stood outside the courtroom, catching your breath, your heart thumping against your ribs — and you didn’t know whether it was from the running or from the fact you were about to see Sonny again for the first time in three years after you kissed him. 

And he didn’t know you were coming. 

Fuck it, you pulled open the door, stepping inside. 

And you saw him— standing where Rafael and you once stood, his eyes first lying on his notes, but drawn to the noise of the creaking door and your footsteps against the marble floor. 

You try not to look at him. You can’t help it, as you pass him by you catch a glimmer of his reaction — shock scrawled plainly across his face, eyes widened and nearly slack jawed. 

“Your Honor, I apologize to you and to my client, ” you spare a small smile to the privileged 18-year-old, Jason Baker, beside you, before your eyes flicker over to Sonny — dress in a pressed suit, his hair slicked back, lips no longer curled in the smile he once had for you, but instead, in a thin line, “ as well as A.D.A. Carisi. I was only informed of this case this morning and I rushed here as soon as I could—” 

“Yes, I understand,” Judge Lopez nods — Lopez being a judge you had dealt with many a time on cases — tough, but always fair, a definite leftist progressive (even by New York standards),  “Do you need a moment to confer with your client?” 

“Just a moment,” you confirmed the details of the case with Jason, before nodding, “I think we’re ready to proceed.” 

The hearing went without much to-do, both of you agreeing to meet about a plea agreement to settle this case out of court. You promised your client you would meet with him after, as Sonny began to make a beeline out of the courtroom. 

You barely caught up to him, on the heels of him striding toward the elevators, jaw set, “Sonny—” 

“Counselor,” he replied coolly, and you frowned, “do you want to set a time for your client’s plea agreement?” 

“Yes, but—” the elevator dings and he steps in without another word. 

“I’ll send you and your office an email,” his smile is curt and cordial, but his words have an edge to them, “nice to see you again.” 

And the doors shut. 

So, you stare at the closed elevator doors, he was mad. 

"Can you believe—" 

Rollins sighs, leaning back against her sofa, head resting against the top, "No I can't, Carisi, just like I couldn't the first twenty times," she murmurs under her breath. 

He pauses, his jaw tight, “Am I annoying you?” 

“No, Sonny, but—” she gestures for him to sit, “you’re stressing me out with all that pacing, can you sit down?” 

Sonny collapsed into a chair, arms crossed and leg still bobbing up and down, “I always thought about what I would say when I saw—” he cuts off, “it was like no time had passed, acting like nothing had happened—” 

Amanda raises an eyebrow, “What did happen between you two?” Sonny falls silent, his eyes falling to the carpeted floor, “this is what I mean, you’re telling me half of the story and expecting me to have a reaction,” she pushes his knee, “what happened?” 

He said nothing, and Amanda sighs, “When I gave you the sweatshirt, you barely said anything, and now you’re not saying anything when you saw—” a cry breaks her sentence off, and they listen as the baby settles back down, “You know I always knew you had a thing for—” 

“I didn’t have a thing—” he cuts off when he sees her raise an eyebrow, “okay maybe I did, but it has nothing to do with this—” 

“If it doesn’t, then why are you mad?” 

“I’m mad,” his voice raises, before she shushes him, and he sighs, apologizing, “I’m angry because I didn’t get a goodbye.”  

You were gone. 

You were gone before he woke up. You were gone from S.V.U. before he came in. You were gone from your apartment when he came knocking — moved out. 

And he was only left with a note and a sweatshirt.

He continues, “I didn’t get a goodbye, but guess who recommended me for the A.D.A. position?” 

It hadn’t been long enough since the last time he had thought about you. And the last time was his interview for the A.D.A. position. 

“I’ll cut to the chase, son,” Jack said, making Sonny sit up straighter in his chair — he had spent the last forty-five minutes trying to impress Jack McCoy only for him to cut the chase now, “You know I’m not the type to mince my words, so I’ll ask you the question that really matters — why should we hire you over other candidates with more experience?” 

This was the question he was dreading — he fought the urge to tug at his collar or wipe the palms down the front of his pants. 

“Honestly, sir, I’ve thought about this question a lot, and yes, I don’t have the legal experience of some of the other candidates,” he didn’t — he had shadowing, he had done clinics, but he hadn’t practiced since being barred, “but I know S.V.U. — more than any of your candidates because I’ve seen these cases firsthand. Not only have I seen the cases, the victims, but I’ve worked with the team — I know the ins and the outs, and I’ve worked with A.D.A.s before—” he nearly flinched at the thought of you, “I know what I’m getting into — I know a lot of cases aren’t a win and I know we have to push sometimes, and I’m not afraid to do that,” he swallows, his throat dry — unable to discern the expression on Jack’s face, “You’ll have to train any candidate you have — whether they have practiced or not, especially when it comes to S.V.U., but you will have to teach one less thing, and it’s the most important one.” 

And after the longest moment, he smiles, and Sonny can barely hear what he says over his blood roaring in his ears, “I think you’re right,” 

“You do?” 

Jack laughs, “Don’t sound so surprised, Dominick,” he tilts his head, “after hearing you talk about your work in and out of the department, I thought you would have more faith in yourself.” 

And you would think that but— 

“I’ll work on that,” 

Jack smiles, clearing his throat, “Based on that and the recommendation I received from who you shadowed—” 

He frowns, “You talked to someone I shadowed?” 

When your name leaves his lips, he blinks, “Haven’t you spoken—” 

Not since leaving my apartment and disappearing, “Not in a long time,” he gives a tight smile, “How are—” 

“Doing great at Noble-Gordon as a defense attorney in the Bronx — giving the Bronx D.A. hell,” he smiles with pride, and he remembers how you had told him that McCoy had been one of your mentors, the man who had helped you become the attorney you are today — and now he was Sonny’s boss, “Better them than us, right?” 

“Sonny—” Amanda’s voice cuts through his thoughts. 

He gets to his feet again, walking towards the window, “Leaves, and then thinks to interfere in my life, doesn’t even bother to reach out, I haven’t heard a thing in years — years — but still gives me a recommendation,” he gives a bitter chuckle, “apparently our friendship meant that little.” 

Apparently he had meant that little. 

“I’m sorry, Sonny,” 

He shakes his head, “What are you sorry for?” he asks, getting to his feet — I got kissed. I got cut out. And I didn’t even get an explanation — “Nothing happened.” 

“I want jail time,” your head snaps up at the sound of Sonny’s voice, closing the door behind him, as you sat waiting in his office — the one that was next door to your old one, “at least six months.” 

“What?” No greeting, no handshake, no smile — that much you half-expected, but jail time— “it’s a first time offense, and it’s not 1980, we’re not in the war on drugs—” 

Sonny slides into his chair across from you his hands folded, “Counselor, your client isn’t an innocent school boy — he is an adult—” 

“Barely, he just turned 18—” 

“Exactly my point, he’s an adult, and—” 

“And no competent attorney would ever take that deal—” 

Sonny leans back in his seat, “Well a competent attorney would consider any deal in front of them, wouldn’t they?” 

And your eyes narrow, “My client will not accept anything more than probation with no jail time, and hell, maybe we'll even throw in drug tests in, but anything more is a disgrace to the legal system,” 

“Then I guess a jury can decide,” his jaw is set, and you see the quiet anger in his eyes — frigid as an icy lake, one that you were currently drowning in. His chair screeches as he moves to rise, and you stop him. 

“We both know this isn’t about the case, Sonny,” 

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you questioning my prosecutorial authority?” 

“Are you trying to send a barely adult first time offender to jail when it makes absolutely no sense?” he grits his teeth, “is that justice? Is that what you’ve learned in S.V.U.?” 

“I’m sorry that I’m not playing soft ball with you, counselor—” 

“I’m sorry that you’re trying to take your anger at me out on my client,” you snap, rising from the table. And it snaps him into silence, his eyes falling to his notes, brow furrowed, mouth a thin line. Your anger simmers slowly, but as you speak again, your voice is even, but tempered, “The way I see it — we have three options — one, get over yourself and let us make a reasonable plea agreement; two, I get someone else from my office to handle this; or three, we work out our issues like fucking adults and move on with this agreement,” 

His voice is quiet when he speaks, “So are we finally going to act like adults now?” 

You waver, “Sonny—” 

“After you cut me out with no explanation and left, I didn’t realize now we could act like adults,” he flips shut his leather folder, “I apologize for my behavior — maybe you’re right, someone else from your office should handle—” 

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off, and he doesn’t look up, “I’m so sorry, Sonny, I didn’t mean to—” you swallow, fuck, “I thought — I thought it would be easier after—” 

“Easier? For you or for me?” 

The truth cut deep, especially when you know it was true, “You’re right — I know, what I did,” you sigh, “It was awful — I was so embarrassed after how I treated you, after I kiss—” you break off, “I know I have a lot of things to make up for, but I want you to know that I didn’t cut you off because of anything you did — even if you know that already — it was me, I didn’t want to burden you—” 

“How did you think cutting me off wasn’t going to burden me?” his words are softer, but sharper, digging into your chest with the guilt you knew was yours only to bear, “how did you think losing one of my friends wasn’t going to— you kissed me after I picked you up, and then nothing for three years. Nothing.” 

“I wanted to call, I wanted to text—” 

“Then why didn’t you?” and you wonder if this is how a suspect felt when they were being interrogated by him, but surely his eyes weren’t nearly this glassy with emotions then, “You promised me — you promised me you would be there for me—” 

Your voice breaks, “Sonny—” 

“Do you know the hell I’ve gone through?” His voice is quiet, “do you know?” 

And you didn’t, “I don’t,” your words are quiet. “Because you’re right — it was easier, after what happened — not with you — with everything else, it was easier to cut ties and move on. It was easier to pretend none of it happened,” you admit, “but it wasn’t right — and I can’t change that. But I’m sorry,” you add, “and I know I have a lot of making up to do, if we ever can get to that point again, I would like to try.” 

His expression is inscrutable — and you know Sonny has changed, you could read him so easily before — an open book who’s pages that you had familiarized yourself with, his emotions scrawled clearly across his brow, nose, lips, and eyes. And now you could barely make out a single word. 

“Try?” 

“Try to be your friend,” you bite your lip, wringing your hands in your lap, “I missed you, Sonny, and I know I don’t have a right to say that, but I did. And seeing you has only made me realize how shitty I’ve been — please?” 

A frown pulls at his lips, and he wavers, before rising, tucking his folder into his briefcase, “Probation with weekly drug tests, and I want him do some community service—” 

“But—” 

“He’s spent years with a silver spoon in his mouth — let’s try to fix that,” and you tilt your head, hiding a smile. 

“I’ll talk to him about it,” you get up too, beginning to pack up your things even as you watch him turn to the door, “Can we discuss it over lunch? My treat.” 

He pauses, his back turned,  “I’m a little busy these next few weeks,” 

You wave him off, feeling your chest squeeze, rejection stinging — as it should, as you deserve — “Of course," nothing was that simple — trust was easy to lose, hard to get back. 

“But how about I call you?” you blink, as he looks over his shoulder, there’s a hint of a sigh in his throat, a certain sort of begrudged reluctance, but still an almost undetectable smile ghosts his lips — and you’ll take it. 

“You got it,” But it wasn’t impossible to earn trust back. Your heart swells with hope, your hand brushing as your hand moves to hold the door open — and you would get it back, one way or another. 

“Penny for your thought, counselor?” Sonny’s head snaps up, finding you standing, suit jacket slung over your arm, a smile on your lips, “I would say a dollar, but I know you took quite a pay cut compared to your old job.” 

“But I could make a buck prosecuting you for stalking,” and you scoff, looking at the table strewn with pages of briefs and yellow legal pads marked in reds, blacks and blues. It had been your fifth time running into him the last few weeks — and you had weaseled your way into conversations, though not a lunch. You were trying to earn his trust back, and you had gotten a little closer each time, but it didn’t mean it was all over and done with. 

The distrust still sat squarely in his expression — but this time it was being overwritten by something else — stress. 

You gape at him, affronted, “Forlini’s was mine before it was yours, thank you very much,” you gesture to the seat across from him, he grunts, nodding and you slide in, “I think I can settle for joint custody if you can.” 

“I’d fight ya on it, but,” he sighs, eyes flickering back to his notes, “I got my hands full already.” 

You purse your lips when you see the heaviness in his brow, “What’s wrong?” 

He gives a grim smile, “You already know what’s wrong,” 

Yes, you knew it well — your first tough case had the ability to unravel you to pieces, especially one from S.V.U., “Well, the facts aren’t any different when you’re the prosecutor versus the detective,” 

“But the job is completely different,” he shakes his head, covering his face, before wiping his palm down it, “and I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

You frown, “Have you eaten?” 

“Eating isn’t the problem,” he shoves his papers aside, a few wrinkling and falling under the booth, the legal pad slamming against the end of the booth. He squeezes his eyes shut, before relaxing, “sorry, I—” 

“No, trust me,” you catch a glimpse of the photos of one of the victims — a bruised and battered girl no older than fifteen, “I get the frustration, but you know there’s only so much you can do in these cases.” 

“I’m not doing enough,” he leans on his elbow, his fist pressed to his mouth, before resting it against his forehead, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I have my first grand jury tomorrow and I don’t even know what I’m doing.”  

“Sonny,” you resist the urge to reach out to him, “you can do this.” 

“You would say that,” he mutters, and you tilt your head,  “you recommended me for the job, McCoy told me.” 

“I didn’t recommend you — Jack was already looking at you, he asked for my opinion and I gave it,” you raise an eyebrow, “do I need to tell you now?” 

He shakes his head, “I—” 

“Sonny,” he looks up at you, “I have not an inch of doubt in your abilities — I’ve seen you grow as a detective and as a law student, and now,” you smile softly, “I’ve seen you grow as an attorney the last few weeks. You are ready — you know why?” 

He sighs, his hands folded on the table, “Because of my training?” 

“No,” you say, and he frowns, “because you are sensitive and kind, but you are also tough — tough enough to make the hard calls,” your hand brushes his tentatively, hovering before settling, “weren’t you nervous before becoming a detective? When you were a cop?” 

“I was, but I was confident, bordering on arrogant — I always went in, guns blazing, so to speak,” he adds, shaking his head at the implication, “now, I’m—” 

“Now you’re cautious — it comes with experience, that’s normal and good — overconfidence bites you in the ass, every time,” you squeeze his hand, “you will do great — and more importantly,” he raises his gaze to meet yours, “you will do your job and do it well — and that’s all you can do.” 

He purses his lips, “You really believe in me?” 

You scoff at his disbelief, “Sonny, I’ll always bet on you — every single time,” his gaze softens, a smile gracing his lips and your stomach flips when he squeezes your hand back. 

“Thank you,” his words are as soft as his touch, his fingers intertwined with yours for a moment, and your eyes flicker across his face — how was it you never realized just how beautiful he was? 

And the moment is broken when he pulls his hand away, gathering all his materials and slipping them into his bag, “If you need any help—” 

He frowns, “Y’know as well as I do that these cases are—” 

“I meant with your self-esteem or advice about how to phrase questions — no specifics and no actual questions,” you cross your arms, “I know about confidentiality and professional responsibility, counselor — I have been at this longer than you have. You could afford to take my advice.” 

He raises an eyebrow, teasing, “Pulling seniority? You’re not at the D.A.’s office anymore,” 

“But I know your boss,” you tease right back, and he rolls his eyes, as you lean forward, “and it’s ‘counselor’ to you,” 

He dares forward, “Well, counselor,” he replies, lips curled in a smile, “I’ll take it under advisement, and I’ll give my boss your best,” And he slips from the booth, pausing only to add, “do this again?” 

And you can’t hide your smile, “Next week?” 

He nods, slipping out of the doors from Forlini’s and you watch him, your eyes falling across the bar — and the two seats where you had sat, now reupholstered and refurbished — and then back again to the door he left from, before turning back to your booth. As you sat, his smile and the faint fluttering left in your chest, a smile you couldn’t stave off 

Things really did change, didn’t they? 

“Trial’s in a few weeks?” and Sonny nods, Rollins sips at her drink, “you have to testify, Amanda?” 

“Unfortunately,” she jerks a thumb towards Sonny, setting her drink down on the counter of the bar, “he’s been prepping me and it’s somehow worse than Barba.” 

The sting of his name hurt less, your easy smile not wavering, “I find that hard to believe,” 

“Oh believe me,” Amanda turns to Sonny, who sips at his drink sheepishly, “how long did we practice yesterday?” 

“Not important,” he brushes her remark off, as you and Amanda share a look and chuckle, “I just want to be ready — Hadid has been all over me about this trial. If she’s been looking for an excuse to fire me, this would be the perfect one.” 

“Hey,” your hand finds his, “you’re going to do great. You have practiced your closing a thousand times — I’ve heard it half a million times — you know what the points you have to make are. I know you’re ready.” 

He squeezes your hand back, smiling softly, “Thank you,” and butterflies bloom under his steady gaze, before he slips from the stool, “I’m going to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” his hand grazes your back before he finds his way to the restroom. 

You sip at your drink, before you find Amanda staring at you. You frown, placing the drink down, “What?” 

“What’s going on between you two?” 

You wrinkle your brow, as Amanda scratches her brow, her lips pursed.“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t want to get involved, but,” she craned her neck to check if Sonny was gone, “I know something happened between you two before you left,” Your head snaps to your drink, biting your lip, “I may be a detective, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you two, whatever this is,” she gestures, “it’s not just a friendship,” 

You blink — but wasn’t it? “But—” 

“I don’t know how you feel, but I’m not blind,” she tilts her head, trying to catch your gaze, “just don’t hurt him okay?” 

“Amanda—” 

“I don’t need to hear specifics about what happened,” she shrugs, “I just want him to be okay ‘cause he may not be my partner now, but he is my best friend.” 

You nod, “Of course, I won’t, Amanda — I care about him too.”

But it was complicated. 

It was simple before — but it was different — you were in love with someone else — blinded. Sonny was your friend, one of your closest, but a friend nonetheless. Your stomach didn’t flip when you saw him, you didn’t text him so often, there weren't brief touches that you wished would last forever — like there was now. 

And you couldn’t deny it forever. 

Amanda chuckles, shaking her head, “I can’t believe I just said Carisi is my best friend,” 

You smile, “Guess he really grew on you after he shaved the ‘stache,” 

Amanda raised her eyebrows, snorting, “Like an infection,” 

You grinned, sipping at your drink, “What are you two laughing at?” and both of you share a smile, “what?” 

“Nothing, Sonny,” Amanda waves him off, “I gotta go — babysitter’s time is almost up, and I have to check on the girls,” Amanda nods at you, “It was nice to see you again, counselor.” 

“Same here, Amanda,” and she nods at Sonny, slipping from the bar, as he takes her seat, leaning against the counter, his knee brushing yours. The low light of the bar catches in his eyes, a dark blue that makes your heart stutter a moment as his lips curl into a smile. And you remember the moment you kissed him. 

“Now what?” you blink, biting your lip. 

Would it be so bad to fall in love with him?

To fall in love with an A.D.A. again? Falling into old habits?

“Walk me home?”  

And fall you would. 

~~~

It wasn’t a walk so much as it was a subway ride away and a walk to your apartment, “Do you ever miss the D.A.’s office?” and you spare a glance at Sonny. 

“Why? Want another person bossing you around the office?” he chuckles, licking his lips.

“When you put it like that,” and you laugh, “no, I just mean—” 

“You mean if I ever miss being on the right side of justice?” and he opens his mouth to retort, “I’m joking, Sonny — I mean criminal defense is a different way I can do justice — I get to take on a lot of the firm’s pro bono work and I get to help people who are at the lowest points of their lives put it back together.” 

“Even murderers?” he frowns. 

You bite your lip, “You saw the Ortiz case on the news didn’t you?” Ortiz, a husband who murdered his wife in cold blood — or that was the story the media and prosecutors’ were selling, “Did you read his interview?” 

He raises an eyebrow, “No?” 

“It turns out his wife had been abusive for years — verbally, emotionally, and physically—” your shoes scrape against the pavement, “he snapped when she turned it on their son.” 

“Is that an excuse—” 

“Yes, by law it is — it isn’t premeditated murder, it’s manslaughter,” you slip your hands into your pockets, “but even then, do people get any better locked up in cages?” 

“Do you think they should be—” 

“Walking free and clear? No,” you look up at the sky, “but you know in Sweden — they have one of, if not the, lowest recidivism rates? They have less than 4,000 prisoners, compared to America’s millions. It’s because they focus on rehabilitation, not punishment. Instead of locking up people in tiny cells and inhumane conditions, they give them care in all aspects of their lives — education, psychological help, medical — everything,” Sonny opens his mouth to interject, and you hold your hands up, “I’m not saying all people are capable of reform — but a lot of them are, and don’t we owe people that chance?” 

“But with S.V.U.—”

“With S.V.U., it’s more complicated — I won’t deny that, rapists are more likely to victimize again compared to other crimes,” you shake your head, “I don’t have all the answers, but I know locking people up and having them be victimized in prison isn’t the answer,” you offer a small smile, “but to answer your question, I miss the people, but I’m happy where I landed. I think it’s the right place for me.” 

“How do you know? I mean, how do you know it’s the right place?” 

You shrug, “You just feel it after some time—” you tilt your head, “where’s this coming from?” 

Sonny sighs, “I got a big case coming up in a week,” his hands slipped into his pockets, “My first trial.” 

“Hadid letting you off the leash?” he barks out a laugh. 

“Barely,” he shakes his head, “not that I blame her — this job, I swear I come home more tired than I did chasing down perps.” 

“That seems like a stretch, and hindsight bias,” you add, elbowing him before rubbing your shoulders, biting back a shiver — wearing only a suit coat out was a mistake, “besides I know you can handle it.” 

He unwraps his scarf, as you open your mouth to protest, but the scarf is already around your neck, and you can’t help but smile — it smells like him — “Sometimes I think you have more faith in me than I do,” 

“I have enough faith in you for the both of us,” you pull the scarf  snug around yourself, resisting the urge to bury your nose in it. You bite your lip, “is the gallery open to the public?” 

“Think so,” he nods. 

“Do you want me to be there in court?” the words come out carefully — afraid to cross a line you weren’t sure was there. 

“Watching the case?” 

“Just the verdict,” you say, “I didn’t get to be there for you when you passed the bar or when you got hired at the D.A.’s office — we could get dinner after — guilty verdict or not.” 

“Not gonna disappear on me for three years, are you?” you flinch, and he sighs, “sorry that came out wrong—” 

“It’s okay,” you smile ruefully, “I kind of deserved it, but,” you add, “I’m not going anywhere — and this time I mean it.” 

The quiet settled over you both for a moment, and you knew he was going to ask — you knew he was working up the courage to do so, “Why did you leave?” you cross your arms, “you don’t—” 

“I want to,” you shake your head — and you could see Rafael’s smile, feel his touch, and see his heart break — “It’s just complicated.” 

“So complicated that you had to leave?” he pressed, and you nodded. 

“I didn’t want to — but I had to,” you glance at him, see his brows knit together, “but the one thing I regretted and I will always regret is leaving you too, and I promise, I won’t do it again,” you reach for his hand, your fingers intertwining, just as you reach the doorstep of your apartment, “you can hold me to that.” 

He stares down at you, the flickering light of your apartment barely illuminating his face, but a soft smile on his lips, “I will, sweetheart,” and warmth bloomed in your stomach — no, you really couldn’t deny it anymore could you? But he squeezes your hand, stepping back, “See you in a week?” 

You lick your lips, heart thumping in your ears — you nod, “Yeah,” you feel his coat around your shoulders, “oh your scar—” 

He waves you off, “Keep it,” he walks down your steps, turning around, pointing a finger at you, grinning, “But make sure Rollins isn’t the one bringing it by.” 

You hear the humor in his voice and smile, “No promises.” 

And you spare one more glance at his returning back, before slipping inside your apartment building and into your apartment. Your fingers fisted in the soft red cotton of his scarf — your cheeks and heart warm.  

Oh, what were you getting yourself into? 

Sonny tried not to glance behind him — you still hadn’t arrived. His nerves were shot after this week — everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong. 

Of course it did — it did little to inspire faith in himself, or in Hadid for that matter. 

“All rise,” Judge Abbas said, and Sonny had to stop himself from jumping to his feet — he knew, he knew in his gut that he had given his best case, though this case was sticky to begin with, “Foreperson of the jury, what say you on the charge of rape in the second degree?” 

Sonny’s heart jumped into his throat, blood roaring in his ears, and he barely caught the verdict, mouth dry — the feeling of the victims’ gazes boring into the back of his head. 

“We find the defendant guilty,” and he nearly couldn’t believe it — he had done it, they had done it. The judge announces they will reconvene for sentencing in two weeks. He turns around, shaking the hands of the victims, thanking them for their testimony, sparing one glance at the defendant. 

Adneradline and relief is pumping through him, his chest lighter — he had done it, he had gotten justice. 

And then he sees you — through the crowd, you’re standing by the door, smiling brightly at him, mouthing congratulations, jerking your head and slipping from the courtroom. He nearly trips over himself to get to you, trying to maintain decorum as he leaves through the double doors. He slips by people he knows and those he doesn’t until finally he finds you in a discrete corner of the courthouse, away from prying eyes and reporters. 

“Sonny, I’m so proud of you,” you say, your hands on his shoulders, your lips curled in a smile he hoped that was just for him, “I knew you could do it,” 

And you did — you had told him he could do it time and time again when he didn’t believe in himself, you had been there for him, as you promised to be. 

Everything slows for a moment. 

And he couldn’t help think you were the only one he needed to believe in him, to be by his side, the one he wanted to tell good news first, the one he wanted to wake up beside in the morning. He’s breathless as he looks at you, and you seem to realize — the air between you two becoming thick, as he looms closer, a bag on your arm, slipping to your fingers now.  

“Sonny,” you breathe, as you tilt your head upwards to look into his eyes.

And he knows this may be a mistake — the last time he kissed you, you disappeared, and every relationship he’s had has ended in disaster, but he can’t bring himself to care — not when he could kiss you again. 

“Can I kiss you?” the words slip past his lips without much to-do, and he has to stop himself from biting his tongue or stumbling back, especially when you nod, and his lips crash to yours. 

His kiss is still hesitant, and so are you, your lips parting and meeting again and again — chaste, but he tasted you — and he swore he never tasted anything like you before, nothing so sweet. And he pulls away a moment, eyes fluttering and he sees your eyes do the same. And his heart is in his throat again — what if you thought it was a mistake? 

But you only smile, your warm hand cupping his cheek, the bag slipping from your fingers, as the other intertwines with his fingers, “Where do you think you’re going?” 

And you kiss him again, and he doesn’t hold back this time, his arms wrapping around you, tugging you impossibly closer, smiling against your lips. And he couldn’t help but think — as warmth bloomed in his stomach, your fingers curling in his hair — how did he ever get so lucky?

[sesskagarchive]

NSFW

Fics that are PWP or otherwise heavily focus on lemons/smut/NSFW scenes and include plenty of them.

‼ Please note that these themed lists may always be expanded based on the suggestions and recs we get, so the lists might change at any given time, even after they’ve been reblogged ‼

A Smell So Sweet by BelovedStranger

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: A collection of lemon oneshots between Sesshomaru and Kagome for Stella Mira’s Spicy Challenge. Some stories are Canon while others are AU.

Alpha B*tch by Slayersgurl35/LadyoftheLemons

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Kagome is alpha female and it's time for her to take a mate for the safety of the pack. Will Inu and Sessh be able to put aside their differences to have the woman they both want or will their fighting tear the pack apart? inu/kag/sessh Status: WIP

Choices by wonderbug

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Bonds of free will hold a singular appeal. A discerning sadist reaps the rewards of delayed gratification. [Post-canon creepy smutfic] Status: One Shot

Dangerous Dance by Lady Nefertiti

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: {Nominated best serial semi-annual awards 2012} Lust. Love. Lies. It was dangerous. A game of touch and tackle--Cat and mouse.(NO YIM's!!) Status: WIP

Depravity by emmaren

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: One man's trash is another's treasure. What a load of horse @#$@. Now, indulging is sinful desires, that is worth something. Status: WIP

Experiments by LibraCourt

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Kagome gets an invite to a shrine, however it's not what it seems. Drugged and thrown in a cell where Sesshoumaru is. The monks want to test some hypothesis they have using the two of them. What is going to happen? Status: One Shot

Heated Betrayal by KJ

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: When the Inu brothers go into heat, Kagome is caught in the cross hairs. Inuyasha tries the unthinkable and sends Kagome directly into Sesshomaru's arms. An unknown enemy has his sights on Kagome, threatening the gentle balance of the relations between demons and humans. AU, Sesshomaru is OOC as well as Inuyasha. This is LEMON. For MATURE ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. Apologies for the POV change. I've finally made up my mind to just do 3rd person. Status: WIP

He Must Be Breeding by ChaoticReverie

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Sesshomaru requires the perfect female to bear his heir, and Kagome… well, she doesn’t know how she gets herself into these messes. Status: One Shot

Legal Jargon by Kagaku-sha

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Sesshoumaru, a new recruit at Higurashi, Smith and Walden LLP, is determined to rise through the ranks and make partner. There's only one issue,his competition is just as determined. Warning! Sexual situations occur frequently throughout!New Chapters coming soon! Disclaimer: This story is an original creation. I do not own Inuyasha, any characters, or any companies I name in this story, aside from the ones I create from the depths of my imagination. Formerly Kjinuyasha Status: Hiatus

Menage Au Inu by SunsetMiko

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: A fight between brothers leads to an accident that can only be undone one way. Two brothers have to learn how to share and Kagome finds herself the center of attention. Sess/Kag/Inu Status: WIP

Muse by The Hatter Theory

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: All models strive to be art, but on rare occasions a woman may transcend art and become inspiration. Dokuga Exclusive, Not For Minors. Status: One Shot

Red Light Girl by sesshomarusama33

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Thrown into the Red Light District to settle her uncle's gambling debts, Kagame attracts the attention of the house's highest ranking patron. What will she do when she becomes the object of his obsession? Status: Hiatus

Sex By The Mouthful by Hana Hikaru

Posted on: FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Sesshoumaru wonders just how much aphrodisiac Kagome should ingest to be coaxed into acquiescing to his needs. Status: One Shot

Stronger by Caedes

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Kagome couldn't stay there. Not for a second longer. If she did, Sango would come and get her- and she couldn't let Sango see her in this place. It was so shameful. So she would do it. She would pack her bags and finally run away because Sango could protect her.

The Pursuit of Ultimate Conquest by Ardis

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: “This Sesshoumaru is indeed intent in educating you on the consequences of rousing the beast within Miko.” Status: WIP

The Shoot by Dunkelgelb

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: A/U. Sesshomaru is a Japanese adult film actor. Kikyo, head director at Tokyo adult film studio Reiki Films, contacts him to replace InuYasha on a 'shoot' after InuYasha sexually harasses her two top female stars, Kagome and Sango. Sesshomaru accepts and sex ensues! Pairings: Sesshomaru/Kikyo, Sesshomaru/adult Rin, Sesshomaru/Sango, Sesshomaru/Kagome. WIP. Extreme MA content! No YIMS! Status: WIP

Wolf Moon by Sidhe

Posted on: AdultFF, Spark Rating: MA Summary: "Don't spill a drop dear/ Let me kiss the curse away/ Yourself in my mouth/ Will you leave me with your taste?" - The truth of what lures the Beast (warning, may contain disturbing ideas) * based on the song by the same name... (repost) Status: One Shot

[camillemontespan]

lost stars [AU. drake, camille, leo and olivia] [final chapter]

Here we go, the final chapter! Thank you to everyone who has commented, reblogged and messaged me to say how much they’ve enjoyed this series. I’ve loved writing it. 

Warnings: NSFW. Also a disturbing ‘Would You Rather?’ question. My boyfriend once asked me this and I had to use it for this fic. I’m sorry. 

Fluff (shitload of fluff). 

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @moonlightgem7 @pug-bitch @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @emceesynonymroll  @themingdynasty 

@gardeningourmet @burnsoslow @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @katedrakeohd @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @carabeth @rainbowsinthestorm @drakesensworld

If anyone’s interested, here’s the song that inspired the name of the series and general vibe: 

            ***************************************************************

Drake opened his eyes slowly, having been awoken by something touching his body. Rubbing his eyes, he looked down and smiled softly when he saw Camille kissing her way down his chest.

'Hey you,' he murmured, feeling himself harden as he watched her lips kiss his skin. Camille looked up at him from under her eyelashes. 'Good morning,' she whispered.

Drake groaned as he felt her tongue lick down his hip lines as her hands roamed the muscles in his arms. She was practically worshipping him.

'I could get used to this type of wake up call,' Drake joked. He reached out to take Camille's hands, just because he wanted to touch her. Camille's lips trailed like wildfire across his body before he felt her take hold of his hard cock. He let out a gasp as she leaned down to take him in her mouth.

'Oh fuck, Camille!'

She continued to move her head up and down while her hand slowly pumped up and down his length. Camille took him in deeper, groaning as she did so. Drake listened to her enjoying working him.

'I want you,' he whispered.

Camille slowly pulled away and looked at him with a mischievous smile on her face. 'I was hoping you would say that.'

She straddled him and Drake reached out to touch her- she wasn't wearing underwear under her pink silk negligee. He could feel her wetness and it made him hungry.

She gently slid down onto him, taking Drake in fully, and began to buck her hips as she moved. Drake sat up, pulling her in close. He slipped her negligee off and cast it aside, dying to feel her skin against his. He kissed her neck as he cupped her breasts with his hands, kneading her and teasing her as if she was unmade clay.

Camille looked at him, the gold flecks in her brown eyes shining. Drake growled at the sight of her and his mouth crashed against hers. He was mad for her. Completely and utterly mad for her.

                          **************************************************

Once they had disentangled themselves from the bedsheets, Camille and Drake went through to the kitchen to brew coffee. Drake's mouth twitched at the corner when he saw how dishevelled he had made Camille's hair.

As Drake set up the coffee machine, Camille leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed. 'So I'm going to be busy for a few hours today,' she told him. 'I'll be here but I need space.'

Drake blinked. 'Oh. What are you doing?'

She awkwardly shuffled on her feet and tightened the rope of her mint green silk dressing gown.

'I'm getting rid of stuff that reminds me of Leo,' she admitted. 'He took his things but there's still stuff in the apartment that reminds me of him, so I'm having a Leo detox.'

Drake smiled weakly. 'I get it. You want me to head out for a few hours? Leave you alone?'

She nodded. 'If that's okay? I just think it would be best if I dealt with it myself.'

Drake drew her in for a hug and pressed a kiss on top of her forehead. 'Of course. Take all the time you need.'

                       ****************************************************

Leo and Olivia had ended up on the same return flight back from Paris, which would have annoyed her originally except Olivia had now just accepted that he was her little Parisian shadow. Her annoying little Parisian shadow.

They were sat on separate aisles but that didn't stop Leo from turning around to catch her attention, two aisles in front of her. He inclined his head towards the plane bathroom and gave her a wink.

Olivia rolled her eyes and continued to read the in-flight magazine, trying to concentrate on the article.

She couldn't.

Leo tapped the flight attendant on the elbow and said something to her which Olivia couldn't catch. The flight attendant caught Olivia's eyes and gave her a knowing smile. She strutted down the plane and Leo chuckled, turning back to read his book.

Olivia went back to reading about the best restaurants to eat in if you happened to be in Budapest.

'Miss?'

Olivia jumped. Standing at her seat was the flight attendant. She held out a glass of champagne to Olivia and gestured towards Leo.

'The blonde gentleman sends his love,' she told Olivia with that knowing smile again. It grated on Olivia.

Olivia took the glass and watched as Leo turned to look at her with a lazy smile on his face. Olivia scowled and tossed back the champagne before unbuckling her seat belt. She began to stride towards Leo and as she passed him, she muttered, ' You are relentless.'

She strode with purpose to the bathroom and let herself inside. Facing the mirror, she studied her reflection.

The door knocked three times and opened slowly.

Leo's reflection stared back at her, triumphant.

'I may be relentless,' he said, ' but you love it, Nevrakis.'

As he kissed her hungrily, Olivia couldn't deny it.

                      ***************************************************

It turned out that a lot of the items in the apartment reminded Camille of Leo. For the third time that morning, she considered just burning down the apartment all together.

She was sat cross legged on the living room floor with objects scattered around her. She picked up a photograph of her and Leo which was taken at one of Camille's work events. It had been a Beaumont Bash, named after her law firm Beaumont LLP, and it had been a black tie affair. The photo showed Leo twirling Camille around the dance floor and the camera had caught her during fits of laughter.

Leo always liked to dance dramatically as if nobody was watching.

Camille felt a twinge in her heart. They had had good times, happy memories.

Leo and Camille had been together for a long time. There was still some love there, of course there was.

Camille's eyes scanned the rest of the objects before settling on a diamond necklace Leo had bought her.

It had been ostentatious. Too sparkly and over the top. Diamonds were not Camille's thing at all, but when he had presented her the necklace after they had argued about something stupid, she had accepted it with a wide smile on her face and put it on. She had pushed down the feeling that she was suffocating.

Leo didn't really know her. That was the overwhelming thought Camille kept having as she sorted through these items.

Camille felt a flicker of excitement when she realised she could start making memories with Drake.

So why hold onto these things that reminded her of Leo? Why not just get rid of it all? Especially after Leo had broken the picture frame of the photo in Paris. Remembering the photo, she rushed to the bedroom where it lay crumpled on the side table. She picked it up and placed it with the other memories.

Defiantly, Camille gathered up the photographs, the necklace and other objects. She threw them into a rubbish bag and carried it downstairs to the skip on the other side of the road. She dumped the rubbish bag into the skip with a flourish and triumphantly made her way back to the apartment, deciding that a celebratory glass of wine was needed.

                 ***************************************************

Drake decided to go back to Camille's after being out at a coffee shop for four hours. He had mainlined five coffees on that time and he was buzzing.

He opened the apartment door with the spare key Camille had given him and frowned when he heard music coming from the living room, the beat guiding him through the hallway.

Entering the living room, he stopped to watch Camille who was dancing around the living room, her back to him, with a glass of wine in her hand, singing along to the music.

All the women, who are independent

Throw your hands up at me

All the honeys, who making money

Throw your hands up at me

All the mommas, who profit dollars

Throw your hands up at me

All the ladies, who truly feel me

Throw your hands up at me

She proceeded to drop down to the floor as she sang, 'Girl I didn't know you could get down like that, Charlie, how your Angels get down like that!'

Drake burst out laughing, making Camille scream. She whipped around to face him, a look of horror on her face. The horror quickly faded to embarrassment.

'Oh god, you caught me dancing to my jam..' she mumbled. Drake smiled and made his way over to her.

'So did you do your Leo detox?'

She nodded. 'Yup.  It’s all in the garbage, which is when I decided that Beyonce, Kelly and Michelle would feel proud of me. So.. here I am.'

Drake twirled her around and kissed her softly. She tasted of wine.

'But you're okay?' he asked gently.

Camille looked up at him, her gaze steady. 'Now I'm with you, yeah.'

                     **************************************************

Leo and Olivia made their way through JFK. Olivia held her head high, trying to ignore the fact that she had yet again degraded herself on an airplane bathroom sink.

Leo walked with a swagger because he had had sex with her on said airplane bathroom sink.

They reached the taxi rank. 'So, want to share one?' he suggested brightly. Olivia crossed her arms and stared at him with a look that could break glass.

'No. We're not repeating our Paris trip,' she said.

'Ah, our Paris trip!' he replied, grinning wolfishly.

Olivia turned red and stumbled over her words. 'No, I didn't mean that, I meant MY Paris trip which you hijacked!'

He looked at her seriously now. 'Olivia,' he sighed. 'To quote Ferris Bueller, you are so tight, I could shove a lump of coal up your ass and in two weeks,  you would shit out a diamond.'

She glared at him. 'Fuck off. And that's not the script.'

Leo shrugged. 'It's true though. You’re so uptight and rigid about keeping your feelings in, you won’t let go. When are you just going to stop trying to deny this? You like me. I like you. Give it up.'

Olivia closed her eyes. 'You're just.. Ugh I don't know. I don't need you.'

Leo stepped closer to her, his green eyes focused on her. His thumb ran softly along her hand. 'I know you don't need anyone,' he whispered. 'That's one of the reasons why I like you so damn much. But you want me, Liv, and that's a big difference.'

He opened the taxi door for her. 'Your chariot awaits.'

Olivia frowned. 'You're not sharing?'

His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. 'Why, do you want me to?'

Olivia bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Leo rolled his eyes. 'Get in the cab, Liv,' he told her. 'Safe trip home.'

She got inside silently and Leo passed the driver a 50 dollar bill. 'Get her back safe,' he told the driver.

The taxi rolled away and Olivia watched out the window as Leo picked up his luggage and went to the bus stop.

The silence in the taxi was excruciating. She had become used to her little Parisian shadow. Olivia thought back over the past few days in Paris when they had hung out, taking in the sights and actually having a good time. No, scratch that. They had a riot. 

He had helped her pick a red Chanel lipstick, patiently waiting as she tried different shades. When he bought her the shade she liked, she had spontaneously kissed his cheek, leaving her mark. Leo had actually blushed before clearing his throat, suggesting they get a drink.  

She had pushed the memory to the back of her mind, ashamed that she had voluntarily kissed him on the cheek in a sickeningly playful way.  But as Olivia thought about him, she realised that things with Leo were different; he was fun. He challenged her. He made her step out of her comfort zone. 

The memory of the Chanel lipstick woke her up to what she was driving away from. 

'STOP!' she shouted, causing the driver to jump. He stopped the vehicle and Olivia grabbed her suitcase before bursting out of the taxi door. She began to run towards the airport bus stop, not caring that her heels were too high for such an activity or that she looked undignified.

The airport bus to the city pulled up and the line of people, including Leo, began to make their way towards the open doors.

'Leo!' Olivia shouted, picking up the pace. 'Leo, wait!'

He turned with a confused look on his face. His eyes widened when he saw her racing towards him with her red hair falling out of its neat bun.

'Liv?' he said, staring at her.

Olivia reached him. Out of breath, she threw her luggage down to the ground and threw her arms around his neck. Her lips crashed against his and he let out a surprised gasp.

Olivia was certain he would push her away. But he didn't. Instead he picked her up off the ground and twirled her, still kissing her desperately.

They didn't notice the bus pull away. They were too caught up in each other. Besides, they could always catch the next one.

            *********************************************************************

One Year Later

Drake and Camille were sat at a table near the corner of the Italian restaurant. Around them, diners happily ate their dishes and toasted their glasses, laughing merrily.

Drake and Camille were playing, ‘Would You Rather?’

‘Hmmm.. would you rather... have vaginas for ears or vaginas all over your back?’ Drake asked. 

Camille burst out laughing. ‘Ewww, Drake! That’s disgusting!’

Drake shrugged and took a sip of his beer. ‘Come on now.’

Camille took a sip of her wine and thought seriously, her eyebrows knitting together. Drake could see the cogs in her mind turning. 

‘Vaginas for ears. I can always hide them by having my hair down. I do not want vaginas all over my back.’

Drake chuckled. ‘Okay, you ask me.’

Camille was about to think of a more disturbing question but her attention was caught by two people waiting at the restaurant door to be seated. 

‘Oh my God, there’s Leo and Olivia,’ she whispered. 

Drake looked up and his face paled. ‘Oh god. We haven’t seen them since..’

‘We broke up,’ Camille finished. ‘I didn’t know they were together!’

Drake was still staring at them.  ‘Well, this is awkward.’

Olivia looked around the restaurant and her eyes caught Drake’s. Her eyes widened in surprise. 

Drake held up his bottle of beer in greeting as Camille waved shyly. Olivia inclined her head at the two of them, a casual hello,  before her eyes flashed to Drake’s bottle; she looked relieved when she saw it was only beer. Drake’s heart warmed. Clearly, she still cared enough about him to want him to stay away from whiskey.  

Leo looked over at them and visibly stepped back in shock. Again, Drake and Camille greeted him as they did Olivia. 

Leo raised his hand as a hello before the waiter took his attention. Olivia and Leo were led to the other side of the restaurant. 

            *******************************************************************

Olivia was glad she couldn’t see Drake and Camille. That had been a surprise. Instead, she could see Leo sat in front of her, all golden. Once he had recovered from seeing Camille (he had gone very quiet), he was back to being his usual jubilant self, which was how Olivia liked it. 

She studied the menu. ‘So, I’m going to go for the lobster..’ she mused, ‘but I’m thinking we could just have dessert to go?’

Leo blinked. ‘To go? You don’t want dessert here?’

Olivia ran her foot up his leg towards his crotch and gave him a wicked smile, the one she knew he couldn’t resist. 

‘I was thinking we could have it in bed? I can do some twisted things with a cherry on my tongue..’ 

Leo grinned and snapped his menu shut. ‘I fucking love you.’

               *********************************************************************

Drake helped Camille with her coat. As she thanked the waiter for the hospitality and gave him a generous tip, Drake opened his coat discreetly to check it was still safe. 

His grandmother’s engagement ring was inside his jacket, neatly stashed. 

Drake had been paranoid he would lose it on the taxi ride over to the restaurant but thank God. 

‘So, taxi home?’ Camille asked, shooting him a bright smile. 

Drake’s plan needed to come into motion now. ‘Actually, I was thinking we take a walk through Central Park?’ he suggested. ‘Lovely night, quite warm, the stars are out.’ 

Camille kissed him gently. ‘You’re such a marshmallow,’ she told him. ‘A walk through the park sounds perfect.’ 

Drake smiled and placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her out the restaurant. He didn’t look back at Leo and Olivia.  Why would he? 

He had everything he needed right here. 

They wandered towards Central Park and Drake pushed down his nerves. This was it. He hoped she would say yes. 

The city around them buzzed with vitality but when they reached the park, it was peaceful in comparison. Drake and Camille went inside, the sounds of the city fading the deeper they wandered. Drake looked up at the sky which was clear. He could see the stars shining down on the two of them, their own galaxy. 

Reaching out for her arm, he stopped Camille, who turned to him in surprise. ‘You okay, Drake?’ she asked. 

Drake cleared his throat, willing courage to come to him. 

‘Camille, I have something to ask you...’

[alwaysblackpink]

♡ི -ིུˏˋ♯ Lᥲlisᥲ_wᥲllpᥲpᥱr

➴​ by﹫ᥲlwᥲysblᥲckpink

ㅤ➴ like/reblog if you sᥲve

[marcianek]

“Children of the Baltic Sea”

Simo and Ilmari from @llp-reblog / @littleladypunk‘s webcomic “Merimerkki”. A little something to celebrate Mermay :)

The title itself is a reference to Daisuke Igarashi’s “Children of the Sea”. I really wanted to try and capture the feeling on his drawings for this little fanart, though in the end I used very different drawing techniques.

[perfectdocument]

GST Registarion

Well, there’s no way around it: This has got to be one of the queerest places on the internet. How queer, you ask? Apparently, folks on Tumblr are 193% more likely to identify as part of the LGBTQIA+ community than on any other social media platform. That’s you! Well, it’s most of you. It’s a helluva lot of you. Let’s talk about you—the LGBTQIA+ community on Tumblr. You, who uplift each other, back each other up, uphold each other’s truths. You make Tumblr the supportive space it is. So hey, whether you’re out and proud or just starting to figure things out, queer Tumblr has got your back—and it touches every fandom and ship and interest you can imagine...we have (finally canonical) declarations of love! Ratty allies! Gay ACNH villagers! Pronoun-positive worms on strings! And frogs! So many frogs. No matter what, you’ll find support and acceptance and, if you need it, a little bit of guidance. This is who you are. Not just in June, but every day of every year. We wouldn’t have it any other way. 🦄, Tumblr staff You made Tumblr queer as hell. We wanted to thank you for that with some gently silly, aesthetic things. Why wait for Pride month? Tumblr celebrates year-round. If you’re on a computer, check out the latest Color Palette for a fun dashboard makeover. Just mosey your little cursor over to the account button in the upper right-hand corner, click it, and then click “Change Palette.” The hues were inspired by the all-inclusive Pride flag. While you’re there on your computer, you can brighten up your posts by tagging them with certain genders and sexuality-related words, like #lesbian, #trans, or #asexual. There’s a bunch of them! And we want to include more in the next tag update. If there’s a specific identity you need to see in our next release, let us know in the reblogs. For now, we hope everyone feels seen and celebrated in the rainbow #LGBTQIA+ tag. Android and iOS folks, we didn’t forget about you. You’ll start to see all of this stuff around May 10. purchasing and selling and great of administrations need to enlist for GST. It is required for organizations whose turnover is more than Rs.20 lakhs (for supply of administrations) and Rs. 40 lakhs ( for supply of merchandise) yearly to enroll for a GST. All organizations causing highway outward supplies of products to need to enroll for a GST as well. The equivalent applies to organizations making available supplies in the interest of other available people, model Agents and Brokers. Additionally, according to the new warning, internet business venders/aggregators need not register if all out deals are under Rs.20 lakhs. What are the GST charge rates? Things that are viewed as fundamental necessities go under excluded list for example they are not burdened. Family necessities and life-saving medications and so forth are charged at 5%. Items like PCs and prepared food are charged at 12%. Hair oil, toothpaste and cleansers, capital products, modern middle people and administrations are charged at 18%. Extravagance things are charged at 28%. You can see the duty rates for every one of the items here: https://cbec-gst.gov.in/gst-merchandise administrations rates.html Look at the GST adding machine which proves to be useful to ascertain the Goods and Service Tax utilizing various sections. What is a GST Return? A GST Return is a record containing subtleties of pay that is needed to be documented according to the law with the duty specialists. Under the GST law, a citizen needs to submit two profits from a month to month premise and one such return every year. All profits must be recorded on the web. Kindly note that there is no arrangement for overhauling the profits. All solicitations for the past charge time frame that went unreported should be remembered for the current month. Under GST, an enrolled seller needs to document GST returns that include: Purchases, Sales, Output, GST (On deals) and Input tax reduction (GST paid on buys).

What is GSTIN? GSTIN is a one of a kind distinguishing proof number given to each GST citizen. To check a GSTIN number an individual who has a GST number can sign onto the GST entryway. What is the GSTN (Goods and Service Tax Network)? The Goods and Service Tax Network (or GSTN) is area 8 (non-benefit), non-government, private restricted organization. GSTN is a one-stop answer for all your circuitous duty necessities. GSTN is answerable for keeping up Indirect Taxation stage for GST to help you plan, document, redress returns and make installments of your aberrant expense liabilities. Required records for Online GST enlistment The rundown of records needed for enrollment of GST for different business are as per the following: Ownership · Pan Card and address evidence of owner · LLP · Pan Card of LLP · LLP Agreement · Accomplices' names and address evidence Private Limited Company · Declaration of Incorporation · Pan Card of Company · Articles of Association, AOA · Notice of Association, MOA · Goal endorsed by board individuals · Personality and address evidence of chiefs · Advanced Signature The accompanying can be appeared as evidence of address of a chief:- · Identification · Elector Identity Card · Aadhar Card · Proportion Card · Phone or Electricity Bill · Driving License · Financial balance Statement Add what functions as personality verification, One can utilize a PAN Card, Aadhar Card as character evidence. For address verification, any of the chief's can show their citizens ID, visa, phone charge, power bill and phone bill. Readiness of GST application One of our GST agents will gather every one of the necessary reports and cycle the GST application through the iCFO stage. Application Filing When every one of the records are gathered, the application will be handled and documented. At that point quickly the ARN number will be given. GST Registration Certificate The GST enlistment testament and GSTIN will be endless supply of GST application and other obligatory reports by the GST official. Know that no printed copies of the declaration will be given and the GST enrollment testament can be downloaded from the GST Portal. Punishments For Failure To GST Registration According to the Section 122 of the CGST act, in India, there is an immediate punishment for each one of those available people who neglect to enroll for GST. Intentional Registration Under GST (for Companies With A Turnover Below Rs.20 Lakhs) Any independent venture with turnover under 20 lakh can willfully enroll for GST despite the fact that it isn't mandatory by law. Intentional GST enlistment enjoys its own benefits and some of them are: Assume input praise: In GST, there is a progression of information credit directly from makers of the products till the purchasers, the nation over. Information credit implies a citizen while paying assessment on yield can deduct the duty that has effectively been paid on data sources and pay just the leftover sum. Intentionally enrolled organizations can build their edges and benefits through this. Do between state selling without any limitations: SMEs can expand the extent of their organizations and discover planned clients and investigate online stages Register on online business sites: SMEs can broaden their market by enrolling through internet business destinations. Enjoy a serious benefit contrasted with different organizations. GST Return Filing A GST Return Filing is a return archive that contains subtleties of the pay of the citizen. It must be documented with the GST regulatory power. The archive is utilized expense specialists to ascertain the duty risk of a GST citizen. A GST Return Filing structure needs to incorporate the accompanying subtleties. · Yield GST (On deals) · Deals · Information tax reduction (GST paid on buys) · Buys · For documenting a GST Return, you need to have GST agreeable deals and buy solicitations appended.

[telltalebatman]

I. What’s your favorite work you did this year? Why? J. What are the best jokes you told this year? Any jokes you thought were funny that people didn’t catch? Vice-versa?

i think “worth her weight in gold” might be my fav! i got to have fun with characters i never used before, as well as play with oswald’s reaction to traumatic loss. “play” is not a right word, considering i put him through hell, but i definitely like the image of oswald talking to her frozen body and expecting an answer, in a brightly lit bunker, just him and her corpse and his pile of misery. now i just gotta write something where he dies. ha, ha, haaaaaaa.

also nobody laughed at the “use that stick up your ass as a moral compass”. it was a GREAT line. also my favorite joke is in the dumb riverdale crossover, where oswald makes fun of a serpent member named mustang. “mustang the serpent. you know, i’d LOVE to see his fursona.”

[celeboftea]

MICHAEL JACKSON’S ESTATE FILES FEDERAL COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT SUIT - MICHAEL JACKSON By Jack Barnes The Estate of Michael Jackson filed a federal lawsuit in Los Angeles against The Walt Disney Company and ABC for their willful and intentional infringements of dozens of copyrights owned by the Estate that were used, without permission, in the ABC prime time special “The Last Days of Michael Jackson” broadcast last week. “Disney and ABC committed willful and intentional copyright infringement when they used the Estate’s copyrighted materials without the Estate’s permission. Disney’s conduct here was particularly surprising given that it has no tolerance for anyone using its copyrighted material in even the most trivial of manners. Disney and ABC’s conduct is also contrary to law and industry practice, and despite several cautionary letters from the Estate to Disney and ABC attorneys.  Disney and ABC never sought the Jackson Estate’s permission to use any of the material owned by the Estate in the broadcast. Can you imagine using Disney’s intellectual property – like Mickey Mouse, Cinderella, Star Wars, The Avengers, Toy Story, and so many other works – without asking Disney’s permission or getting a license? The Estate has no choice but to vigorously protect its intellectual property, which is the lifeblood of its business,” said Howard Weitzman of Kinsella Weitzman Iser Kump & Aldisert LLP, who, with his partner Jonathan Steinsapir, filed the lawsuit for the Jackson Estate. Please Reblog!

[getmybuzzup]

MICHAEL JACKSON’S ESTATE FILES FEDERAL COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT SUIT - MICHAEL JACKSON By Jack Barnes The Estate of Michael Jackson filed a federal lawsuit in Los Angeles against The Walt Disney Company and ABC for their willful and intentional infringements of dozens of copyrights owned by the Estate that were used, without permission, in the ABC prime time special “The Last Days of Michael Jackson” broadcast last week. “Disney and ABC committed willful and intentional copyright infringement when they used the Estate’s copyrighted materials without the Estate’s permission. Disney’s conduct here was particularly surprising given that it has no tolerance for anyone using its copyrighted material in even the most trivial of manners. Disney and ABC’s conduct is also contrary to law and industry practice, and despite several cautionary letters from the Estate to Disney and ABC attorneys.  Disney and ABC never sought the Jackson Estate’s permission to use any of the material owned by the Estate in the broadcast. Can you imagine using Disney’s intellectual property – like Mickey Mouse, Cinderella, Star Wars, The Avengers, Toy Story, and so many other works – without asking Disney’s permission or getting a license? The Estate has no choice but to vigorously protect its intellectual property, which is the lifeblood of its business,” said Howard Weitzman of Kinsella Weitzman Iser Kump & Aldisert LLP, who, with his partner Jonathan Steinsapir, filed the lawsuit for the Jackson Estate. Please Reblog!