#must have been damn good to get you feeling like that!

[judesmoonbeauty]

𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕁𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

One morning, after I made my unbreakable promise with Jude.

Kate: [Screen Jolt] Uwaah!

I woke up with a shock.

Kate: W-w-w-why….

Jude: How long ya gonna sleep, damned commoner?

Kate: You’re in my room!

As Jude grabbed me by my chin and locked with my flustered gaze, another face peeks out from the corner of my eye.

Ellis: Good morning, Kate. Hehe, your bangs are sticking up, it’s so cute.

(Ellis?!)

Kate: Hey, hey…..what’s going on?

Jude: Get ready in three seconds.

He roughly tossed me away by my chin, and I bounced back onto the bed.

Kate: Three seconds? Where are we going?

Ellis: To our other workplace.

(Other….workplace?)

We entered a building marked Raven Co.

Kate: ….Raven Company.

This is the trading company run by Jude.

They have branches overseas, and do an extensive range of business….That’s what Ellis told me along the way.

(Jude’s the president and Ellis is his employee.)

(I heard that Ellis is Jude’s assistant….)

The original line translates: “I heard that Ellis assists the company president, Jude.” I felt this was redundant, so I removed it.

It’s a amazing that he’s the president of such a prestigious company, and works for Crown.

As the three of us are walking inside, I listen to Ellis as he explains everything about the company….

Cheerful Young Man: President, Ellis, g‘mornin’.

Theodore also speaks in the kansai/osaka-ben dialect.

A young man with his hair tied up, bows slightly, and greets Jude and Ellis.

Jude: Mornin’.

Ellis: Good morning.

(Perhaps he’s an employee….)

Kate: Good morning.

When the young man spotted me behind them….

Cheerful Young Man: Whoa, what a real pretty youn’ lady! I see, ya must be Ellis’ girl.

Kate: Oh, no I…

Cheerful Young Man: Yer not? Then, couldja be the president’s?!

Cheerful Young Man: Ah —……That’s an unusual taste. Ugh!

The moment Jude kicked the young man, he crouched down, his face distorted with pain.

Jude: You’ve been twaddlin’ on all mornin’.

Jude: Why dontcha use that yappin’ gob of yers ‘n snatch us a sale?

Jude: Unless ya want a pay cut, then that’s a different story.

Cheerful Young Man: No! I can’t endure somethin’ like that.

The young man hopped up and enthusiastically waved both arms.

Cheerful Young Man: Well, I’m gonna go slave away for Raven company today tooo. See ya later!

(He was a very lively and cheerful person.)

Ellis: That’s Theodore Walker. He’s 21 years old and works in the sales department.

Kate: Hehe, he seems like a very kind person.

I can’t help but smile as I imagine his work-style.

(Now that I think about it, I’d like to learn more about the other employees and their jobs….)

Kate: Ellis, you’re the president’s assistant, right? What are your responsibilities?

When I asked Ellis so I could learn more about those around me, he told me as he recalled them.

Ellis: That’s right. Guarding, visiting clients, procurement confirmation, raiding….

(Uhhh? I heard some pretty troubling words just now….)

Kate: You sound busy. Anything else that you do?

Ellis: After that, there’s debt collections, fighting, and retaliation.

(That’s even more troubling…!)

Kate: I feel like I’m listening to the stories of new hires that got hired unintentionally at an unscrupulous company…

Swallowing the words “Criminal Organization,” I expressed my thoughts as tactfully as possible.

They literally have “Anti-Social Forces” written in English and it’s used in Japan to denote individuals or organized criminal groups, (AKA Yakuza and/or syndicates). I changed this to fit the setting of England.

Jude: The president of that unscrupulous company’s given ya a job.

Kate: Hey, you were listening?

Jude: Can ya not speak like yer interested? ‘Sides ya were shoutin.’

Jude: If ya got time to shout, then review these.

In front of Jude, there were lines of letter bins that were overflowing.

The mail that couldn’t fit in the bins were piled messily all over the desk.

Kate: Do you by chance, want me to organize all of this….

Jude: If ya were a postal worker, sortin’ letters should be a piece o’ cake.

Kate: Still, this is way too much for one person to handle!

(Even if I did this non-stop, it’ll take the the whole day…)

Jude: I’m leavin’ it to ya, so don’t complain.

[Answer: Option 3 - At least explain the job +4/+4]

Kate: You can at least explain the procedures, so I know what to do.

Jude: This’s what happens when yer raised a sheltered princess. Use yer head, are yer brains packed with sawdust?

His eyes looked down on me with contempt.

(Well, I’d rather accept the challenge than be made to look like an idiot.)

Kate: I’ll do it!

When I reflexively declared that, a thin smile formed on his lips.

Jude: Great. Be sure to finish by the time I get back.

Jude smiled in satisfaction and then turned on his heel.

Kate: Um, where’s Jude going?

Ellis: Business meeting in the VIP room with British department store.

Jude: Don’t mind ya taggin’ along, if ya think ya can be useful?

(He knows that I won’t be even a millimeter of a bit useful…..)

Kate: ….I’ll stick to sorting the mail.

Jude: Ha.

Jude scoffed and walked away.

(What’s with this sense of defeat….)

Ellis: Kate, would you like my help?

Kate: Ellis…..thanks.

The only thing that saved me - was Ellis’ gentle, encouraging smile.

In an empty room, I silently sorted the letters.

The faint scent of his preferred cigarettes wafted in the air as I kept my hands moving…..

Kate: This goes here, that goes there……hah! All finished!

When I spontaneously dropped myself onto the desk, Ellis, who’d been working on a task on the other side of a partition, applauded me.

Ellis: Nice work, Kate.

Ellis: You’re such a hard worker, that’s great.

Kate: It’s all thanks to you helping me during your free time, that I was able to finish so quickly, Ellis.

Ellis: I only helped a little bit.

Ellis: Kate, you did most of the work on your own, so give yourself some credit.

(Ellis is so sweet.)

(His angelic smile is so healing, and I get a little bashful when I see him….)

Being with him makes me feel like I’m immersed in a meltingly sweet jam.

(Now that I think about it, I still haven’t heard the reason why Ellis joined Crown.)

I wonder why such a kind person like Ellis is a part of the assassination organization “Crown”, that conquers evil with evil.

Kate: Hey, Ellis. Can I ask you something? It’s just a fairytale keeper question, but..

Ellis: You just finished work, and now you’re working as the fairytale keeper? Haha, you’re so eager about your work.

Ellis: Go ahead, ask me anything.

Kate: …..Why are you at Crown, Ellis?

Ellis: Hmm….I guess because Victor asked Jude, and Jude said okay?

Ellis: I met Jude before we entered Crown, and we’ve been together ever since.

Kate: So, that’s why you chose to follow Jude?

Ellis: Yeah.

(But, why did Jude accept the invitation?)

— To imagine his thought process.

Perhaps he thought that if he worked for Her Majesty, beneficial information for Raven would pour in.

(Be that as it may.)

Kate: I’m glad you didn’t get caught up in it Ellis…..

Ellis: But - we made a promise.

Ellis tenderly narrowed his eyes as he said that.

Kate: …..A promise?

Ellis: I’m waiting for the happiest moment of Jude’s life.

Ellis: In order to witness it, I must stay by his side.

Kate: Will that promise be fulfilled once Jude becomes his happiest?

Ellis: Yeah, that’s right.

(Jude’s happiest moment…..)

I try to imagine it, but I can’t imagine his happiest moment in the slightest because I’ve never seen him with a proper smile.

Kate: Ellis, what’s the promise you want to fulfill?

Ellis just smiled and evaded my question.

Ellis: But, it seems like that moment will never come. …..Jude’s always unhappy.

Jude: Yer bein’ noisy.

When Jude opened the door, he stood there with a sour look on his face.

The line directly translates: "When Jude opened the door, he stood there like he just crushed a bitter bug.” Nigamushi - means to give a soured look, as if one has swallowed a bitter bug. I altered the line.

Ellis: Oh, welcome back Jude.

Jude: Don’t yammer ‘bout unnecessary things.

Ellis: But, we have to cooperate with her fairytale keeper work, right?

Ellis winks at me and it encourages me also.

Kate: Jude, I’ve also got a question for you!

Kate: Why do you keep Ellis by your side?

Jude: Ain’t none of yer business what I do.

Ellis: Jude, Kate is your exclusive fairytale keeper. I think it has to do with that.

With Ellis’ support, Jude gave in with a deep sigh…..

Jude: This guy’s athletic abilities ‘n cursed power’re worth usin’. There’s no way I’d let valuable labor slip past me.

Jude: He’s definitely touched in the head though.

(He answered me…!)

Kate: Thanks for letting me know, Jude.

(Jude uses Ellis as a tool.)

(Ellis wants to fulfill a promise to Jude.)

Each are by the other’s side for the sake of their own benefit.

— The relationship between the two can be called a “contractual relationship”.

That day, I learned some important information about Jude for the first time.

[Main Story Master List] [Chapter 3]

I would just like to say that I was wheezing this chapter when I first read it. They really went into her room like that HELP! Also, I LOVE Theodore, he is this ball of sunshine that's total opposites to our grumpy prez.

Dividers: @.natimiles Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

If you wish to be added or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[deathmybride]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ the earth from a distance | andrew hozier-byrne *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ship: andrew hozier-byrne x fem!oc

warnings: references to death, alienation

summary: Gráinne moved to Dunbur to escape her past, to live quietly and write, and wallow in all the grief she had acquired. Andrew has other ideas…

word count: 3663

a/n: dedicated to my beloved @ath3nasgard3n who came with me to see bogfather in concert and held me while I SOBBED to Abstract (Psychopomp), even though she had never listened to hozier before that night.

Also, the setting for this fic is the Old Wicklow Head Lighthouse in Dunbur, which is now a BnB that you can stay in.

How to pronounce Gráinne and Máire

It began, as all good love stories should, with the death of a stranger. This time, it was the old lady who lived in the disused lighthouse by the battered shore, dying as the leaves turned to copper. I had lived in Dunbur for almost a year by that time, I never saw the heather part for any cars that might wind along the gravel path to the sea- but, then again, I was not watching for them. Either way, Lady, my poor MX5 was not built for such terrain and I could feel the scrub catching in sods under her chassis all the way down to the grass flat that had been designated as parking.

My gumboots squelched on the sopping turf as I hopped out, squinting at the pallid sun that tried so hard to reach me through the permanent duvet of cloud. It was a nice day by County Wicklow standards, no rain, minimal mist, and nearly, nearly sunny. The only reason to rug up was the damn wind billowing off the sea. I caught a gaggle of county gents eyeing Lady with appraisal while their wives loaded their cars with salvaged kitsch.

“She’s a beauty.” Mr Mulligan, the butcher- the most confident of the group- spoke up, peering out from beneath his tweed flat-cap with a face far too chipper for an estate sale.

“Ta.” I nod in thanks. “She’s old enough to order a pint.”

“What year?”

“‘99.”

“Ah, excellent year.” He said. I supposed it would be true if cars were like wine. “You’re a fine driver to get her up the back ass of nowhere, o’er all this shite.”

“Ta, just dumb luck, I reckon.” I moved to step away, but he cut in closer.

“We got ‘em lil’ cutlets in at the shop, I know they’re your favourite.”

“Ah, ya can’t fuckin’ get a word outta this one without him sellin’ ya some gobshite.” Mr Ronan, the newsagent spoke up with a roll of his eyes.

“Ahh, rev up ya bastard!” He aimed a light smack at his friend, and soon they were in playful fighting stances.

I took their rough-housing as my cue to retreat, finding their high spirits quite macabre and feeling grateful that the old lady’s family could not see them over the shallow rise.

The sale itself took place over the hillock and down in a scoop of grass a little ways away from the lighthouse. The townsfolk picked over fold-out camping tables laden with knickknacks and books, and a sparse supply of farm equipment and furniture on tarps nearby. I resolved to steer clear of there since Lady wasn’t known for her boot space, and I did not feel like calling in a favour from someone with an appropriate vehicle for the countryside. There was a dull hum of conversation hanging over the scene, and as I approached I must have murmured ‘hello’ and forced a smile for half a dozen of my regular customers. A few young men in black coats seemed to be dealing with the sales; grandsons of the deceased, I assumed.

I started with the books, finding a Folio Society copy of The Divine Comedy for a relative bargain,and- to my surprise- a few of Anne Rice’s Christian novels. I had little luck with anything else and was about to give up and go home, but something more caught my eye. It was a teddy bear with fur like lush, green grass. It had a curious face, with dark eyes and wide, brown nose that matched the brown on its paw-pads. Around its neck were four bells on a chain, each a different autumnal shade. Immediately taken by him, and spying a toddler staring at him with hungry eyes and grubby hands, I decided I couldn’t live without him and snaffled him up. The bells jingled pleasantly, and the fur was silky in my hands.

“Alright?” Someone sidled in beside me- Sue- the dumpy older woman who worked at the dingy smoke-and-gun shop down the street from the cafe where I worked.

“Hi.”

“Quer’n windy out, ain’t it?” Her eye contact was intense and probing.

“Aye.” I kept it brief. Once you got her talking, she wasn’t likely to stop.

“Cute.” She pointed to the bear, raising her brows. Her curiosity read phoney. “Bairns at home?”

“No. He’s for me.” I giggled in embarrassment, but she did not appear to be listening.

“Look at all this shite, would ya?” She picked up an admittedly hideous angelfish paperweight made of blue glass, sneering. “Hard to imagine such a proper woman would fill her gaff with this much cheap junk.”

“Mm.”

“You couldn’t move in that place for all the stuff.”

“You been in there, then?” Shit, she’s got me asking questions...

“Well,” She fiddled with her straw-blonde pageboy hair, suddenly self-conscious. “No, but you know that’s what its like, I mean look at it all.”

“Mmhm.”

“You know, I sold her fags.” She lifted her chin, prideful, yet almost disapproving. “Seven packs, each week on a Tuesday.”

“Maybe that’s what got her.”

I regretted the words as soon as they escaped my mouth, smiled tightly at her aghast expression and made a run for one of the young men dressed in black. This was a sad town, I reminded myself. A sad town, with sad gossip, and sad old ladies who die alone in bleak, majestic places full of items haunted by memory. What do I care if Sue starts spreading rumours?

The man served me quickly, seeming distracted. I wished him well and expressed sorrow for his loss. He thanked me in a robotic way, as if this were the hundredth time he was hearing those sentiments that day, and gave me a paper bag for my books. I took my cue to leave, hiking up over the rise to my car. As I went, my eyes strayed to the lighthouse. It burst up from the earth like the trunk of an enormous tree, though it lacked the natural curvature of wood, instead taking the form of an eight-sided prism. Ringed around the top was a deck with a railing just visible from such a distance. My feet slowed, suddenly intrigued by the memory held within the stones. I cast about a furtive glance. Nobody around, and all the patrons out of sight behind the slope. A closer look couldn’t hurt anyone, could it? Without another thought, I made a break for it, trying to walk swiftly without appearing to be hurrying in case the eyes I felt boring into me were not just a figment of my active imagination.

The gorse and heather grew all the way up to the base of the structure, which stretched high up above me in six tapering sections. I tilted my head back, I shielding my eyes against the glare. It was so tall, yet not even the domed top could scratch at the clouds. It was too windy to see the mist settle low enough to swallow the top, yet the idea of such a sight was glorious in my mind’s eye, like a tower from a fable. I wandered around the base, picking my way across the brush, until I came to the door. It was enormous and fortified, and appeared to be locked. I pushed on it hard, expecting nothing, but it swung in with a creak and a great feeling of resistance.

The surprise drew a gasp from my lips as I slipped inside. The inside seemed tiny in comparison, with low ceilings yellowed by years of indoor smoking. The inner walls were rounded, rough with crackled plaster and faded yellow wallpaper hanging off in sloughs. The air smelt of mildew and damp, and I noticed that the window at the rear was open in an attempt to flush out the smell. I crept over, laying my feet lightly. There was a book laying face down on the sill and a pair of reading glasses folded beside them. A chill ran over me at the realisation that these people may still be using this space.

Get out of here Gráinne, what the hell are you doing? I scolded myself internally as I abandoned my package of books and made a beeline for the stairs. You stupid woman, they’re gonna catch you! Sue’s probably told them all you spit on their grandmother’s memory by now!

The stairs ran openly up the walls of each floor, and I found myself gripping the iron railing as I climbed. They creaked and popped as they took my weight, the sound amplified by the empty stone interior. I saw that the second and third floors were as empty as the first, each showing signs of water damage and decay. The fourth floor was home to a frankly enormous four-poster bed that took up almost the whole room. The fifth floor appeared to be a bathroom, while the sixth was a kitchen. I was out of breath by the time I reached the top, and I had counted 109 steps from the ground floor.

As I bent over, holding my knees while I caught my breath, I noticed that in the corner there was a pull-down attic style door that hung open invitingly. It looked a tad rickety, and the fact that it was open at all should have read as suspicious, but the climb had taken a good five minutes and I’d be damned if I would leave without seeing the view from the very top. Gritting my teeth, I took the final climb, white-knuckling the rail as I popped my head out into the brightness. The wind howled against my ears, cutting through my beanie. I blinked my dry eyes against it, peering through my lashes and rubbing furiously against the sting.

“Hello, miss.”

Such a cheerful voice had never struck such terror in a person. A shock like falling galvanised my blood and before I had time to register what had happened, I had sprinted backwards down the stairs and stood frozen at the bottom. A beat passed, then he appeared, kneeling at the top of the trap door like a gargoyle: a young man with a soft face and a nest of dark hair poking out from beneath a knitted beanie. He seemed to be suppressing a smile, and when he spoke, it burst across his face with a giggly laugh.

“I see you down there.”

“Sorry!” I blurted out. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He put a hand over his heart in an old-fashioned gesture of sincerity. “I didn’t mean to frighten ya.”

“N-no, I shouldn’t be up here anyway, I…”

“Well, strictly speaking, no you shouldn’t. But I left the door unlocked, and if it wasn’t you, it would be someone else.” He tilted his head, offering a kinder smile than I deserved. “You’re not in trouble.”

“I-” I took a deep breath, trying to swallow my stutter. “Thank you for… understanding.”

He shrugged.

“S’alright. People get curious. It’s not like there’s much left to steal, anyways. Unless you think you can get that bed frame down the stairs.”

“I-I don’t think I could, no.” A nervous giggle found its way into my voice.

“Alas, neither can the movers. She’s a beauty though, ain’t she? Though I think I’ll have to burn some sage before I sleep in it. I’m not the creepiest thing in this place, I’ll tell you what. Banshees and spooks in every corner.” He seemed amused at my wide-eyed confusion. “You may need to sage the bear too. I think I see Aunt Máire’s ghost peepin’ out through its beady eyes.”

“Right…” He raised an eyebrow as I held the bear close to my chest.

“Sorry, I’m just messin.’”

“I know.” I said quickly, taking a tentative step back, eyeing the stairs. “Well, I’m gonna…”

“What? You’re not coming up?”

“I-I shouldn’t. I’ve already basically broken in.”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, his smile almost exasperated. “You’ve climbed all this way, surely come out and have a look. I don’t mind, I promise. I’m invitin’ ya.”

In that moment it occurred to me that this was a stranger- albeit a kindly and handsome one, but a stranger nonetheless- and we were in a very secluded spot. He could be anyone. He could want anything. I felt my phone pressing on my leg from my jeans pocket. He put his hand up in surrender.

“I won’t twist your arm about it, but the door is open if you like. I’ll let you get on, or would you like me to walk you back down?”

“No.” I left myself no more time to think on it. After all, it was the middle of the day, and the folk at the sale could see us standing by the railing. “I’ll come up. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

He moved aside obligingly, offering a hand to help me up. It seemed rude not to accept such an offering, and I could not say I regretted it. His hands were huge and soft, his grip firm but gentle. He kept hold of me for a beat longer than he needed, meeting my gaze with eyes narrowed against the glare. He was gorgeous up close, with down turned moss-green eyes that resembled those of a creature far older than any human, half hidden beneath thick, dark lashes. He smiled as he stood up, and as my stare dropped to his cherub lips I noticed his close cropped beard was auburn in the watery sunlight. He rose up, and up, and up, and soon he was towering over me like a beech tree.

“Wow, you’re tall.” I had to shout over the roaring wind.

He laughed. A husky sound that made his shoulders shake.

“Aw, and you’re such a tiny ting, I feel like I owe you a couple inches.” Instantly, he blushed. “That’s not what I- uh- oh, forget it.”

He tore off his beanie and buried his face in it. Bubbling up from the depths of me, for reasons unknown, was some of my old sense of humour.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Ugh, inappropriate, missy!” He swatted at me with his beanie, then sniffed in mock offence. “You don’t even know my name.”

“Hey! You’re the one who started on about all your inches…”

“And I do have a few.”

“See what I mean? Unbelievable.”

He rolled his eyes, then contained himself no longer and let loose his infectious laughter. Soon enough, I was in bits. When we could both hold a straight face, he leaned in and offered me a handshake.

“I’m Andrew, by the way.”

“Gráinne.”

“Gráinne” He leaned in as he spoke, the sound softening as it passed through his mouth. The ‘r’ rolled gently like the crest of a wave into the breathy final syllable, and the name I once found so masculine and harsh sounded like a prayer to my ears. “Borrowed name for an English girl.”

“Not borrowed,” I sniffed, suddenly protective of the name I once considered an unflattering mouthful, and embarrassed at my obvious lack of an accent. “I’m a quarter Irish on my father’s side, if you believe in splitting yourself into fractions. It’s my great grandmother’s name.”

“I apologise for my rudeness.” Again, he put his hand on his heart. I had to stand close to hear his soft tone as the gale whipped my face. “I was only surprised. Gráinne isn’t such a common name these days, which is a shame ‘cause I find it quite beautiful. Do you speak any Gaeilge?”

I shook my head, heat marring my cheeks.

“If you fancy learning, I’m your man. These courses…” He shook his head. “They teach you how to speak it, but they can’t help you with the feeling.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I would be lying to myself if I denied the thrill of excitement I felt at the prospect of getting to know him in some small way.

“I certainly hope so.” He took a step back and gestured broadly. “Such a view is surely incentive enough.”

I looked around, realising that in my fascination with this sprite of a man, I had failed to take in my surroundings. One one side, the prairie hills rolled gently out toward the horizon, marbled in a thousand shades of green, brown, bronze, even pink and yellow where the gorse and wildflowers grew dense through the grass. Clusters of trees and scrub broke up the smooth flow of the turf, crosshatched with paths carved out by hares and foxes. Further out, I saw a sparse gathering of cottages, and an ivory freckling of sheep over the surrounding hillside.

We wandered the circumference of the deck, looking down first upon the rows of reliable utes, and one fragile sports car; then, at the people milling around the tables like tiny crabs on a beached porpoise. Finally, we regarded the stark, white shape of the new lighthouse and control centre; unnatural, yet homely against the shore. Down there, the brilliant tapestry of colour gave way to grey stone that formed jutting structures along the shore, growing smaller and smaller until they reached the small stretch of beach that must have been made from gravel, or even coarse sand. The sea there was deep grey, roiling with pale breakers that threw up jets of foam as they crashed against the rocks. Above the water, yet still strangely beneath us, grey gulls wheeled on the wild wind. Their cries carried over the roar of the sea, reaching us on a breath of sharp, briny air. I inhaled deeply, feeling the spirit of this ancient place come into me, cold and fresh.

“It is… beautiful. Do you mean you’d teach me up here?”

“If it was a bit less windy, yeah.” He scrunched his nose. “Otherwise, I’m renovating the kitchen in the next few weeks. Once its done up and not so decrepit we could use that.”

“So, this really is your place, then?”

“Aye. And about a hundred acres worth of peninsula. The workers at the new lighthouse have right of way, of course, but whatever. It’s a good deal.”

“Wow,” I allowed myself an awed gasp. “You inherited all that?”

“Well, my cousins did.” He itched the back of his neck, as if about to confess to an embarrassing fact. “They were gonna put it on the market and split the money, so I said I’d buy it sight unseen if they come down to help me clear out all the stuff.”

“Wow. How can you afford all that as such a young age?”

“I’m older than I look.” He admitted with an awkward laugh. “But younger than my soul, ma says.”

“You’ve been here a few time before?”

“More’n a few, I’d wager.” He turned his glittering eyes to me. “You don’t seem new either. We’ve probably met before, once upon a time.”

“You’d think I’d remember someone like you.”

“Ah, I’d say the same about you.” I did not miss the redness on his cheeks. “Memory is a fickle thing. Anyway, I can afford this place because I lead a charmed life. I work hard, yeah, but luck has so much to do with it. You collect your share of four-leafed clovers growin’ up ‘round here.”

“You’re from Dunbur?”

“Newcastle, up the coast a ways.”

“I might have driven through on my way to Dublin.”

“Might’ve.” He checked his watch. “Sorry, I better get back to the vultures.”

He strode over to the stairwell, and I took it as my cue to follow.

“Oh, you can stay up there as long as you like.” He assured me. “Just make sure you lock the door on the way out.”

“Oh, no, I better go home myself. Dinner to cook, laundry to do…”

“It never ends, does it?”

“Mm-mm.”

We made our way down, moving quickly as he took two stairs at a time. He reached the ground before me, but I found him waiting for me with an amused look on his beautiful face and my book bag under his arm.

“Sorry, I forgot about your poor, tiny legs.”

“Rude.” I tried to take my bag from him, but he was already digging through it.

“What have we got in here�� The Anne Rice novels, very nice, and oh! The Divine Comedy! Have you read it before?”

“No, never.”

“You’ve got to.” He handed it over with gravitas. “Do not let this gather dust. Read it, it’ll change your life.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He glanced over his shoulder as we stepped outside, pulling the enormous door closed behind him. “Alright, I’ve gotta run, but it’s been lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” I was about to let him go, but I wanted to see him for just a moment longer before he dissolved like mist. “Oh, Andrew?”

“Mm?”

“I’m… sorry, for your loss.”

“Thank you, but I never really knew her. She was the black sheep of the family, a title I’m happy to inherit. One day, I’ll tell you all about it.” Gently, he tapped my elbow with the back of his hand, a gesture that set my skin alight. “I’ll see ya round, Gráinne.”

“Bye.”

He waved as he left, the ever present smile still lingering on his lips. He turned to me again when he reached the crest of the hill and waved once more. I waved back, and when he disappeared over the rise, I bounded over to watch him walk away. One more time, he turned, as if he sensed me watching, and lifted his hand over his head.

“Gráinne.” I whispered, trying to match his lilting cadence. “Gráinne, Gráinne…”

I knew then that my name would never sound as sweet again, and wondered how much more exquisite it would be were it to pass from those budded lips in a sigh of bliss.

[to-the-stars8]

Reviving Love

Jason Todd x Reader Chapters AO3

Chapter 13

“So,” you said into the phone as you looked out the window. There was a hint of a coy smile on your face. “When do I get to see you again?”

You heard Jason chuckle on the other end of the line before saying, “Obsessed with me already, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, as you sat on the window sill. “But, seriously, it's nearly been a week since I saw you.”

Two weeks ago, Jason asked you to be his girlfriend officially, which was great. He was everything you had hoped for in a boyfriend; attentive, kind, sexy, and overall just a good guy. The only downside was that he worked a lot and was a bit secretive about a few things. It did raise a couple of red flags, but it wasn’t enough for him to put you off. 

“Look across the street, sweetheart, ” Jason said into the phone. 

You did and saw him there. He waved at you with a big grin on his face, and in his other hand, he held up a bouquet of roses. Happily, you told him to come over and started down toward the entrance of your building. Embracing him, you gave him a big kiss on the cheek, before taking his hand to lead him up to your apartment. 

“You really didn’t have to get these,” You said as you shut the door behind you. Putting the roses up to your nose you took in the smell, before pulling a vase from one of the cabinets. “Thank you, Jason.”

“Don’t thank me, please. Your smile is thank you enough.” He winked at you as he took the flowers out of your hand. Damn, you thought, you wondered what planet he had come from to be so perfect. Jason started unwrapping the roses and cutting their stems for you. “Have you eaten yet? I could order something for us if you like.”

“No, no, I’m okay,” You said, looking up at him. He was so beautiful. All you wanted to do was pull him into you. “How was work?”

You didn’t know what his work was exactly, but, from what little he told you, he worked in trade. After a few moments, he answered, “It was work. You know what they say, sweetheart, another day, another dollar.”

“Another day, another dime, you mean.” You mumbled as you put the cut roses into the vase. You admired them, fingers reaching out to feel the soft petals as you carried the vase into the living room to place in the center of the coffee table. “They look perfect.”

You turned to Jason, who was suddenly standing behind you, and put your hands on his chest. You asked for a kiss and he shyly complied. Looking at him, you would have never suspected that a man who looked like he could be in Blackgate and run it could be so cute. When you went in for another he had started to pull away but stopped short when he noticed you moving. 

He quietly said, “Oh,” before leaning down to meet your lips again. 

Jason was a sweet kisser, you realized. He was attentive to all the smallest details—he never dared get too close, waited for you to pull away and initiate, and, finally, always studied you for anything you might give away with a look. Touching his cheek, you thanked him again for the roses before urging him to take off his coat. 

“Make yourself at home, babe,” you said, taking his coat off his shoulders. “You know the saying, mi casa es su casa.”

Jason sat awkwardly as he watched you run about your apartment. First, you cleaned the coffee table, then you made him a cup of coffee and followed that up with fluffing up his pillows. You were pushing books out of the way, and he realized that you must have been in the middle of organizing your bookshelf. 

 You were setting down a glass of water for yourself, when Jason said, “Sit down, I came over here to hang out, not to watch your ass run about.”

If he had been any other man, you would have smacked him for talking to you like that. You hated to admit it, but you liked his rough tone and the way he hit the spot next to him for you to sit. When you sat, he inched a bit closer to you with the hesitance of a teenage boy on a first date. It was astounding how he could be so virginal one minute and the next ooze fuck boy charm. 

After a second consideration, you decided to give him a bit more than he would have anticipated. You were sitting turned toward him, leaning against his arm that was slung on the back of the couch, and slowly reached up to touch his chest. As you did, you moved your face closer so he could kiss you again as his hand slid down toward the belt of his pants. 

Jason caught your wrist. “What’re you…” He cut himself by pressing his lips to yours. 

Your tongue darted across his bottom lip, encouraging them to part. When he let out a gasp, you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. You felt Jason’s grip on your wrist tighten and you took that opportunity to press closer to him. His lips were chapped, and you could taste the tiny bit of cigarette still on them. He was getting you addicted to the flavor. 

Jason said your name when you parted briefly for a breath, and you couldn’t help yourself. You took your hand from him to cup his cheek before pulling him to you. Jason welcomed it, moaning into the kiss, and that’s when you stopped. 

“Jason,” You whispered against his lips. You didn’t want to give him too much. Instead, you pressed gentle kisses into his neck. As you did so, you noticed him slowly trying to pull a decorative pillow on his lap. You smiled against his neck before moving your nose to bump against his. “I need to finish re-organizing my bookcase, would you like to help or watch my ass do it?”

“I’ll…” He could hardly begin his sentence. You watched as his eyes flickered down to the pillow in his lap. “I’ll watch.”

“Okay.”

Getting up, you picked up book after book, striking up a conversation with him like you hadn’t just given him a hard-on. After a couple of deep breaths and thinking about literally anything else, Jason managed to calm down. He eventually started to engage in the conversation, finding himself liking you more and more with every word you spoke. 

His eyes looked around at the books on the floor, taking in the titles that gave him hints of you. Right at his feet was an old copy of Persuasion. Upon first glance, he could tell it was slightly old and well-read. The corners of the paper-back were a little furled, the spine was severely creased, and the pages had started to yellow. Picking it up, he opened it to see his own handwriting on the title page. 

Could I persuade you to go out with me? - JT

Jason couldn’t help but cringe. He was going to put the book down before something slipped out from the pages. A picture of the two of you fell onto the pillow on his lap. It was a homecoming photo. In it, he was wearing a black tux that Alfred had tailored for him and you were in a sparkly blue dress. The smile the two of you had was bright and sweet, and Jason remembered you quietly urging him to kiss him. He could remember that from under the bleachers, he could still hear the sound of music and his heart thumping in his chest. When you leaned in to kiss him, Jason felt his hands shake slightly from the nerves. 

“Wasn’t I a cute kid?” Your voice cut through the memory. He looked up at you before nodding in agreement. 

“Who’s…uh, who’s the kid? He looks familiar,” Jason asked as he handed you the picture and book. 

You took it with a smile, admiring the photo before putting it back into the book and shoving it on the shelf. “That’s my first boyfriend. He’s a Wayne kid which might be why he looks familiar. His paper was in the newspaper for a minute after he died.” 

Jason was a little hurt by the way you talked about him like he was some indifferent topic in a long conversation. It reminded him that, to the people he once knew, he was gone. Jason knew he shouldn’t have expected anything less, and had told himself a million times that you weren’t going to be stuck over some little high school romance. Life would move on after his ended, but he didn’t want to be an offhand comment or little article.

Jason suddenly needed to move and picked up some of the books on the floor. “Where do you want them?”

“Um, romance books are going on the second shelf and history books on the third,” You said as you slid another book in place. As Jason put up the books, you asked, “What’s your favorite book?”

“I know some assholes might say it's girly, but I like Pride and Prejudice,” Jason admitted. “It was the first book I picked up at the local library. How about you?”

You smiled before tapping the rough spine of Persuasion. “Looks like we both got a taste for romance.” Jason’s heart fluttered and he smiled at you. 

Maybe the half-agony and half-hope hadn’t been something only he had felt.

[crownmemes]

Spy Sentences, Vol. 23

(Sentences from various sources for spies and/or secretive muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"We need to deal with this before it gets out of hand."

"You thought I was dead, didn't you?"

"You don't do a very good job of hiding your interest."

"Do you have a plan, or are we just improvising here?"

"Don't worry, he's one of us."

"If you plan on exposing me, then my only option will be to kill you."

"I always have the feeling that there's somebody listening who shouldn't be."

"You can't play a player."

"You shouldn't be so clean. It's a dead giveaway that you don't belong, you always being tidy."

"I won't ever tell anybody anything, don't worry."

"Assuming I survive, I shall telephone to let you know."

"Are you forgetting you tried to kill me?"

"How did you know I'd come here?"

"If you really must know, I'm here because I damn well don't trust anybody else!"

"What are you doing here? I never thought for a second that you would be stupid enough to come!"

"I don't care to have my secrets exposed to the world. Can you understand that?"

"Were you spying on me?"

"I hear you've been looking for me. I'm flattered."

"I need you to understand that whatever you think, there is a distinct possibility that he's manipulating you."

"You must never underestimate me, nor I you."

"I've been shot too many times to be scared by a gun."

"I'm just going to come out and say it; I don't trust you. I sure as hell don't want you here."

"Shoot him, but don't kill him."

"Remember when we had that conversation about how you were going to lay low?"

"Secrets are not my concern. Keeping them is."

"We all have our secrets - even me. Especially me."

"Does anyone know you're here?"

"You are not as charming as you think you are."

"Do you have any idea how many enemies I have out there?"

"I didn't plan on going out like this."

"It occurs to me that I don't know the first thing about you."

"You've gone soft. We're going to fix that, for your own benefit."

"It feels good, doesn't it? To fly home having got the bad guy, just like in the movies."

"You gave me an empty gun?"

[ruelpsen]

i think i've deadass pavloved myself into automatically getting horny and hard when i think about eating. was just trying to normally figure out what i'm gonna eat for lunch today and remembered i have delicious leftovers and my crotch just starts throbbing like woah slow down girl. i am beyond saving <3

Hell yeah! But are you beyond saving yet or just on the edge of finally giving in to what your body seems to want? ;)

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[thegreatyin]

this nemesis ambition started out a little slow but I am getting closer to finding that bastard who killed my wife, and I’ll not rest a minute now that im far closer to on his trail

sorry got in character for a second

Anyways fun ambition so far very fucked up though

congratulations on joining the murder club anon!!!! depending on who you ask the name refers to either people who have murdered or people who have witnessed murder. usually both. actually extremely often both. it's a swell time you'll feel right at home (don't mind our collective skyglass knife collection in the back)

[ayakashibackstreet]

You know what, joining that Discord show club was a great idea, like half of my favourite PKC folks are there. And is there anything more wholesome than someone going '1!! hey, I remember that dog!! she's adorable, I'm glad she's doing well!' about a little pixel friend they made for you years ago?

[harmcityherald]

Sin City Theme Song

[dudeshusband]

what continues to slowly kill me is that I've done everything i can to try to date and i can't

[longagoitwastuesday]

I guess I have to suck it up and admit that, yeah, despite myself, against my own wishes, I suppose I do love that damn Gojo Satoru guy after all

[simonbrain]

getting the biggest, scariest bastard at the pub in your bed must have been one of your greatest achievements, especially after watching the way he turned down a few girls prior to you.

he glanced at you each time, disregarding the way the poor things scuttled off in embarrassment; their confidence dampened. it's like he was preening under your attention, and even underneath that silly balaclava of his, you picked up on the way he seemed to flush. his shoulders became more square, and his chest seemed to puff out more. the air around him became more charged with his cockiness rather than the pointless attempts at hiding himself from the other patrons. surely he's aware that he's the centre of the room, no matter which one.

he only grew more bold until he was right at your side, and you held his gaze the entire time.

now, he rewards you with the greatest dicking-down of your life, his fat cock stretching you impossibly thin, the thick girth bullying its way into you over and over again. he fucks you like a man starved, touches you as if he's trying to sink his hands beneath your soft skin and stroke your bones.

although nothing could have prepared you for how fucking filthy his mouth is. his voice holds the right amount of grittiness, the kind that makes your eyes roll back as he whispers the nastiest things in your ear, his accent adding to the thrill his words send down your spine. each moan that fell from his mouth, each promise of ruining you for anyone else after him, each pet name he called you had you going brainless on his cock, your sensitive bundle of nerves twitching under the pads of his fingers as he follows through with his promise. maybe if you were any more lucid, you might have realised it sounded more like a threat rather than just plain dirty talk.

the next morning, you woke up to an aching body, a bottle of water and a box of tylenol on your bedside table, and no stranger in your bed. this may be the greatest one-night stand you've ever had.

well, it was until you realised a couple of weeks later that you're still getting off to the image of him blanketing you and that damn voice of his purring low in your ear. your fingers circle your clit, your eyes unfocused as you imagine him on top of you, taking you deep right where he belongs, and when you think about how he growled at you to soak his cock like a good girl, you come all over your fingers with a humiliatingly loud whine.

it only gets worse from there. you can no longer come to porn unless the person in the video resembles the big boy who rearranged your guts, and even that is a feat of its own. you can't find anyone who has similar tattoos, similar scars, or even a similar voice. reading smut can only get you so far, and some nights, you go to bed feeling defeated because you just couldn't orgasm.

you get so desperate you start searching for those dirty little audios people post online, and for a while, you manage to make yourself come (maybe not as hard, but at this point, you'll take anything). the voices that rumble through your headphones aren't as husky as your mystery man, and their accents aren't exactly close to his, but it holds you off... until it doesn't. and now you're desperate to find him again, but he's probably long gone now.

you can't believe it; the fucker really did ruin you.

it's not until a few months later that you hear that familiar voice again, and your knees almost give out in the middle of the damn store.

(they actually do when simon, he tells you through hungry kisses, bends you in half in the dreadful alleyway, your poor cunt taking each brutal fill of that cock you've been craving so badly.

"she's fuckin' squeezin' me, sweet'art. missed me tha' much?" he chuckles hoarsely in your ear, and you would have fallen over if not for his firm hold keeping you upright.

yep, he can fuck right off again. you'll get your lick back. just as soon as your legs stop shaking and you're not seeing double.)

[thewispsings]

better streamer | max verstappen

pairing; max verstappen x streamer!reader

summary; after getting completely demolished on stream by user; fartsnifer max makes it his life purpose to win a game against her. to bad he never does and they fall in love instead.

— fartsnifer has posted new photos!

liked by, charlesleclerc, and 57,924 others!

fartsnifer: very nice stream tonight! thank you so much to all those who joined 🫶🫶 and thank you to all of my new followers! welcome, you are now all official fartsnifers 🔥

view comments below!

user1: i love your content but i will not be identified as a fartsnifer.

user2: i too did not want to identify as a fartsnifer. i am now proud to be one 😕

user3: being a fartsnifer is a PRIVILEGE. be proud

user4: i’m sorry but i can’t take you guys seriously while you’re calling yourself fartsnifers 😭😭

user5: this is the girl who embarrassed the f1 grid in cod?!?

user6: this is her!!!

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1, @/landonorris, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri @/logansargent, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo

user7: bro tagged the whole family 💀

user8: LMAO CHARLES???

user9: how did he find her so quick 😭

user10: basically all of f1twt is talking about her 😭😭

maxverstappen1: @/fartsnifer check dms.

user11: MAX WHATTT

user12: willing to bet he’s asking her for a rematch

user13: that’s so ominous “check dms.” LIKE DAMN OKAY

user14: max just accept that she is better than you. it’s okay.

georgerussell63: well well well, if it isn’t fartsnifer herself.

fartsnifer: well well well, if it isn’t the guy who scream like a girl

georgerussell63: um actually, that was @/landonorris, NOT me.

landonorris: why are you lying?

user15: y/n replying to george and not max is killing me 😭

maxverstappen1: check dms.

user16: this is embarrassing max, one comment was enough

user17: i think he wants y/n to check her dms?

oscarpiastri: good game tonight! 👊

fartsnifer: thanks piastri!

user18: thank you oscar for showing y/n that f1 drivers do in fact have decorum 🧍

logansargent: don’t fraternize with the enemy Oscar.

maxverstappen1: check dms please.

user19: oh max…

user20: it just got even more embarrassing

user21: the way y/n is very clearly ignoring him is SO FUCKING FUNNY

user22: i love your content pls don’t die

danielricciardo: please answer Max’s messages.

user23: daniel did max make you do this???

danielricciardo: yes.

maxverstappen1: check dms.

user24: OMG MAX WE GET ITTTT

user24: y/n please answer his dms this is getting sad to watch

— y/n l/n and max verstappen have shared a collaborated post!

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 392,839 others!

fartsnifer: join my stream tonight to watch me humiliate this 3x wdc!! 👊👊

view comments below!

user25: omg she actually answered his messages 😭

maxverstappen1: that is not the photo we agreed on.

fartsnifer: but this one was so much funnier!!

user26: oh i WILL be tuning in

user27: this is going to be the funniest thing ever

user28: strangers to lovers…

user29: OH BROTHERRR

landonorris: best buddy’s with the enemy now mate?

maxverstappen1: i must win.

user30: i love that photo of max

user30: the ways he’s just 🧍

charles_leclerc: woohoo!! go y/n 👏👏

georgerussell63: fake.

landonorris: she is the enemy charles!

logansargent: after she humiliated us on stream? i can’t believe this.

maxverstappen1: you sick traitor. after everything we’ve been through?

charles_leclerc: i like her videos guys 😕

user31: charles leclerc a official fartsnifer confirmed!!

user32: i was planning to sleep early today….but this seems more important

user33: oh but if i said enemies to friends to lovers…

user34: i would say you’re delusional!! 😝😝

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 583,826 others!

fartsnifer: life feels good when you don’t have to pay for your own dinners 🤤 @/maxverstappen1

view comments below!

user35: hasn’t it already been over a month 🤨

user36: i think they played again and if y/n won max had to pay her dinners for ANOTHER month

user37: they just want an excuse to keep in touch 😒😒

user36: oh most definitely LMAOOO

maxverstappen1: when did i get you sushi?

fartsnifer: like three days ago remember????

maxverstappen1: ah yes! i remember now

user37: max is literally traveling the world racing and still finds time to order y/n dinner online EVERY SINGLE DAY.

user38: he wants her so bad and you can’t convince me otherwise 😐

landonorris: can you play today?

fartsnifer: don’t you have quali today???!?!

landonorris: i mean after 😒

fartsnifer: yeah just tell me when

maxverstappen1: can i join?

user39: omg max no

user40: oh i just got the worst second hand embarrassment jesus christ

user41: that was the saddest sentence ever written

fartsnifer: ofc you can maximilian!!

charles_leclerc: you shouldn’t try this delicious italian restaurant! i’ll send max the address!!

fartsnifer: thank you charles 🫶🫶

maxverstappen1; don’t thank him 🙄 I’m the one buying it.

user42: don’t be jealous max…

liked by 273,827 others!

fartsniferupdates: queen fartsnifer herself was seen at the f1 austrian race today!! i think we ALL know who she was there for… 😉😉

view comments below!

user43: she flew to austria for a MAN ?? 🤨

user44: to be fairrrrr that man is MAX VERSTAPPEN so…

user45: they are so dating!! they literally left together and looked so happy

user46: i fucking knew it

user47: okay enemy’s to lovers…get it ig

user48: maybe y/n can let max win at COD now that they’re a…thing?

user49: y/n looks so good

user50: IKR!!! her hair is chefs kiss

liked by, landonorris, charles_leclerc, fartsnifer, and 763,825 others!

maxverstappen1: finally payed for her dinner in person 💪

view comments below!

user51: oh HE posted her?? yeah he’s in love

user52: he ruined his entire feed aesthetic to post a picture of her 🥹🥹🥹

fartsnifer: i don’t like that picture🧍delete please!

maxverstappen1: karma!

maxverstappen1: and you look cute 🙄

user53: OH!!!

user54: yeah they are definitely dating

landonorris: finally!! God you were getting to annoying with your “she’s so pretty.” “and she’s good at games.” “do you think if we started dating she’d let me win.”

maxverstappen1: delete this.

fartsnifer: too late!! i’ve seen it. no max just because we’re dating doesn’t mean i will let you win

maxverstappen1: 😕

user55: OMG SHE JUST CONFIRMED IT?? THEY ARE ACTUALLY DATING?? HOLY SHIT

user56: girl he literally flew her out to watch him race. ofc they were dating 😭😭

user33: I FUCKING KNEW IT!! FUCK YOU ALL WHO SAID I WAS DELUSIONAL!! WHAT NOW HUH??? YOU SEE THIS?? I WAS RIGHT!! AHAHAHAH

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc: that was for y/n, not max.

maxverstappen1: geez thanks mate!

fartsnifer: love you charles ‼️‼️

user57: LMAOOO

user58: the way charles became a full on fartsnifer fan is so crazy

user59: he literally talks about her all the time too 😭😭 when he was asked what he’s been watching recently he answered “i’ve been watching a streamer named fartsnifer! she’s funny.” he’s so proud about it

georgerussell63: you are all traitors!! after what she did to us that fateful day? i can’t believe this!

fartsnifer: you literally invited me for drinks tomorrow?? 🧍

georgerussell63: SHHHH 🤫🤫

user60: max is dating someone who gos by the name fartsnifer….yeah i didn’t see this coming

. . .

notes: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed :))

[plumipal]

The Tattoo (part two)

After scarabias overblot, and seeing what ace and Deuce were willikg to do for you, you were so touched that you decided ro get them tattooed on your body as a small heart and a spade. After that chaos ensues-

If you wanna read the whole prolouge, then it's here

Floyd feels a lot. He feels betrayed and enraged over the tattoo, feeling the urge to fight those two damn guppies you call friends. How dare you betray your mate like this, you were meant to be! Atleast he will show you that he will fight for his mate, if that's good or bad that's for you to decide...

He hates the tattoo, yet as much as he hates it he can't really put the anger onto you. It's that damn mackerel and crabs fault! They must have forced you into it! Don't worry, like the good mate he is he will mark over their dumb marks, showing who's boss. He hates hurting you but he needs to do what has to be done to show that you're his...

Jade is... off. As soon as he hears about the tattoo his composure just, shatters. He cant understand why you would play him like this, you're quite cruel aren't you? Playing him like this, making him lose his composure... you want him to kill to show how much he cares? Because he will- in fact, he will use any dirty tricks in the book to make sure he wins, magic or not..

If magic won't work, he will result to desperately trying to insert himself into your life more than he already has. You'll have a personal butler at this point, one begging for your attention and affection,, to think all this started because of a harmless tattoo...

Azul is about to throw up. The world is spinning, he feels like he is about to throw up. This can't be happening, right?? You, you really hate him don't you? Why else would you get those two troublemakers a tattoo but not him...

The desperation gets worse, the longer he thinks about it. He cant stop crying, having to lock himself in the vip lounge so nobody sees how this issue has reduced him to a sobbing little crybaby. The desperation turns somewhat into determination, the urge to write up the best contract ever to make you happy, maybe throw in a little condition where you need to get a matching tattoo with him..

Jamil is about to have another overblot. He, he is the reason? His overblot? He can't, he cant take it. Being the main reason for the tattoo makes him lose his mind. He avoids you for a week, nor being able to look at you without losing his composure and crying on the spot.

Desperation grows, turing ugly. He cant control himself, searching you out after a week of not seeing you. He begs for forgiveness, for you to not hate him, please, he begs you... He needs you, he needs you in his life, he needs you to love and cherish him, to be your number one.

Kalim feels off. This is one of the few times where he doesn't get what he wants. It's an unknown feeling, a hated feeling. He could be fine with anything else, bur a tattoo of your friends? Isn't he your friend too?? Is it because of the overblot that happened at his dorm? He will get you anything if it means that you'll forgive him! Please, he is begging you..

The jealousy grows, turning into an ugly mess. He cant help but hate on the Adeuce duo, hating them for taking you from him. He tries to endlessly gift you anything you look at for more than a second, trying to get you to spend countless hours at scarabia with several parties a week that always end in a romantic carpet ride. He tries really hard, okay? Just let him show you he is the best choise...

Epel is enraged, how dare you? The emotions get too intense, and he storms off. He cant believe you, picking favourites in your group? They may have been there before you but he loves you way more than they could ever love you!

He is in constant state of dissaray the first day, his anger rising the more he thinks about it. The anger stops being directed towards you and instead those two dumbasses, Ace and Deuce. He cant stand their asses! Going straight to battle living shit out of them.

Only, that isn't how it goes for him. He gets his ass kicked with everyone he tries to fight, getting so beat up he can barely stand up straight. Oh well, he can atleast leech off of you to nurse him back to health. You have to, please, he is begging for some alone time with you...

Also please someone help him with getting a new blazer, his old one is currently torn to shreds. The fights he got into wasn't really that good for him, since he is trying to fight people twice his size. Only for you, he would only go so far for you...

Rook feels... nothing. He can't bring himself to feel emotions currently, too stuck up on the tattoo. Sure, it's such a beautiful thing you care enough for someone that you would permanently etch that into your body. But why? Why couldn't it have been him? He is your friend too (he wish he was more to you, but that can wait, he will wait eons for you, only you)...

You feel bad for the man, wondering why he was so down all of the sudden. You still care about him (you care for everyone, they're you're friends after all), deciding to let him stay the night at ramshackle. He is forever grateful for your endless kindness, swearing to get into your good graces just so he can one day also get a tattoo..

Vil is desperate, he is emotional. The pain of not only comming second, but THIRD in your heart, it feels like you are stabbing him over and over again in the heart. He cant breathe, he cant stop the tears wellinh up in his eyes, he cant stop the emotions overflowimg his poor body. Why would you do something so heinous to this poor actor, he only wanted your love...

He has been acting since he was a little kid, yet this time he cant control his emotions, the stakes are too high. Your love is on the line! He can't stand to look himself in the mirror, feeling way too ugly for his emotions, his outbursts, his feelings. He wants to be enough for you, and he will do anything to achieve that..

THERES PART TWO DONE!!! The literal biggest thank you to @artdolliewishes for helping so much and expanding on the au with me!! It means so much to me that someone cares about a project I've done as much as I do :,)

Also I'm very sorry for being so delayed on posting, I went to the ER and all, I swear the students of nrc was trying to kill me lmao

[salemlunaa]

✰ TO SHIFT CONSCIOUSNESS YOU MUST MASTER THE ACT OF LETTING GO ✰

and not in the way you think i’m talking about…

You need to realise your desires are not far fetched, they aren’t even desires and were not desires the second you thought about them. They were yours the second you expressed a want for these things because for the millionth time, you’re the god of your reality and what you say goes.

Now when i say “let go”, im not referring to the fact that “you need to let go of the physical world” or “let go of your body” and bla bla bla, I mean you need to let go of the mentality that has been holding you hostage for quite a while

Having the perfect routine isn’t going to make a change unless you have mentally let go of this reality. Having affirmations that you repeat all the time won’t do shit if you don’t let go

Let go of the person who has tried everything and just can’t manage to tap in to the void/induce pure consciousness

Let go of the person who needs to check success stories just to feel something in order to motivate themselves

Let go of the person who likes doomscrolling for motivation when they would already be in their new reality if they tried

Let go of the person who is a failure

Let go of the person who has been trying for months/years to no avail

Let go of the person who needs to go to bloggers, coaches and outside sources and ask questions they damn well know the answer to

Let go of the person who just can’t

It can feel so validating to have these problems because so many people do, and you feel like you can relate to others with these issues and it makes you feel good, it makes you feel validated to reaffirm these problems and have others comfort and coddle you. I know you want advice, you’re frustrated and want to vent. I know you want people to talk to and cry with, because, again, it makes you feel seen and validated. But where is that feeling of validation gonna lead you? to 2026, 2027 even 2028, still saying the same things? still affirming that you’ve been in the community for years and nothing works for you?

You need to let go of that miserable person, you are “I AM” you need to take your consciousness and take your awareness away from that miserable person and shift them to the person who can tap into the “i am” state with ease

shift your awareness to someone who can induce pure consciousness within seconds

to someone who gets whatever they want

to someone who can do all

to someone who doesn’t know the meaning of failure even if it hit them in the face

if you don’t let go you’re never gonna leave, you need to sit with yourself and be honest, have you let go of the person with unfavourable circumstances? have you shifted awareness to the person who is all you want to be, better yet all that you are? You are “I AM”, just decide that you aren’t that person anymore and immediately your consciousness and awareness will shift to who you now are. You can BE anything because you ARE everything.

And as “I AM”, as a god, you can choose where to place your consciousness and where to place your awareness, that’s all shifting is, placing your awareness and consciousness in the reality that is desired, not some huge extravaganza. Shift your awareness to someone who can do all things, and that is who you will be, this law cannot fail.

misery loves company, don’t stay in the club simply because it validates and comforts you, remove yourself and place yourself in that of who you want to be.

DETACH FROM WHAT YOU KNOW, TO BE WHAT YOU WANT 🍨💋

[ronearoundblindly]

Big Pharma

Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader

Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?

Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.

Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮‍💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k

The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.

Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.

As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.

This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.

You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.

You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.

Well, the only side effect.

Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”

“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”

“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”

You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.

“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…

“Good. A team player. We value that here.”

You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.

“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.

He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.

You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.

Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.

See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.

Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.

The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.

Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior. 

You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.

Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.

Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?

“Doc, no,” he breaths.

“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.

Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”

‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.

“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.

He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.

It’s your job to break him and break him right now.

“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”

There’s a flat smack on the door.

“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.

That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”

In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.

Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.

You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.

“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.

He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.” 

His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.

You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.

Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.

“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”

That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.

His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.

Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.

You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.

He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.

Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.

“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.

Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.

Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.

Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.

You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.

A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”

You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.

“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock. 

He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.

He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.

A box of tissues is set by your side.

“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?” 

You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”

Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.

“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.

“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”

Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.

There’s another impatient bang at the door.

“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”

It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.

You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.

Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’d you do, blow a vein?”

You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.

“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.

His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.

Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.

It seems you’re both addicted now.

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]