#my daddy calls me a kebab

[theshinazugawaslut]

:D

he's a strawberry ! :D - xoxo, angeliiix (u can call me saeyo if u want !) >:D

AHHHH HE'S SO CUTE!!!

Saeyo's such a lovely name! Love you so much baby!

And may I just say how gorgeous the entire aesthetic of your account is? It's everything I could ever want!!

[screampied]

see I just realised you said GHOST and not ghostface,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, that’s very embarrassing I wish I could unsend an ask bc that’s so embarrassing,,,,,,,,,,,, EISH IM CURLIN UP I MISREAD IT AGHHH

close enough it’s TOJI and he’s sexy so :3333

did he js flick the reader’s forehead,,, OU HIS HANDS ARE COLD?? MEOWWWWW “are you even listening” NO KING IM TRYNA HEAR UR DICKS HEARTBEAT MIAOOWWWWWW

“wanna feel?” 😧 well,,,,,,,, it must be the witching hour bc I’m about to do some magical spells on that shit LMFAOAOA 😭 “knock y’erself out” AYE AYE CAP’N 😻‼️

HAPPY TRAIL??????? AND DIANA IS ON THE PROWL MEOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW “you wanna find out?” VEGAS YOURE KILLING ME SHES HISSING I CANT DO THIS AUSGGDHFHFHFHF “c’mere then” LAWD IM IN HEAT sorry that is wild..

“knees” did and done 🧎🏾‍♀️”bra, take that off too” SO HE WANNA SEE MY TITS 😛😛😛 BEST BELIEVE THAT SHIT IS FLYING OFF (I’m so sorry.) “fuck, y’er pretty” THANK YOU DADDY 😻😻😻😻😻😻😻

“it’s too big for you? thats my bad” cocky about his cock,,, I NEED HIM AUGGH

“play with your tits” … radio silence…………… unexpected……….. NO BC THE WAY MY JAW ACC DROPPED I WAS LIKE WOAH?? BUT I MEAN SHIT IF THERES A WILL THERES A WAY I GOT THE ASSETS FOR ALLAT !!

“such a pretty mouth, ugh” the ugh in italic? I HEARD IT?? LAED?? IM SO FINISHED IM PROPERLY DONE “good girl. haah, ‘s good” meows.

“yer nasty” VEGAS YOU ALWAYS SERVE AT THE RIGHT TIMES IVE BEEN GEEKING ABOUT BEING CALLED NASTY FOR DAYS AND YOU PULL THIS, I CANTTTT “play with yourself” FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

“you want that, sweets?” I CALL PEOPLE SWEETS TOO OMG ME N HIM TWINNIN and wtf is ectoplasm.. IS IT YHAT GREEN SHIT FROM GHOSTBUSTERS?? OH NAH GMFU SAY WHAT NOW?? nvm its whitee, false alarm :P

“Yer mouths gettin smart” IT CAN GET SMARTER, OG OFFICE SIREN RIGHT HERE !! “fuuuuuuuuck me” lawd……… LAWD I LOVE WHEN MEN DO THAT

“I wanna break you” sweet and sour kebabs.. “you have to pay for that you kno-" LMFOAOAOAOAOAO WE ARE FUNNYY “you played with her?” he referred to it as her… screampied’s version of toji is the man of my dreams NOT YOU ADRESSING IT LMFAOAOOA YOURE SO REAL FOR THAT

“n-no” “y-yea” moans. THE MOCKING I NEED THIS IN MY LIFEEE “look at that tongue” IM DYING IM BEDRIDDEN IM ILL HELP ME “listen to it with me” WOWZA “atta girl” YOWZA !

“whatever spell you had” TOLD YALL IMA BE ON MY WITCH SHIT 🗣️‼️ DONT PLAY WITH CATTTTTTT I WAS CASTIN SPELLS ALLLLL OVER LIKE “PUSSARIUS DRUNKIOS” BIPPITY BOPPITY BOO NOW HE LUV IT, IM TEWWW GOOD 😛

DID IT END OFF W A WHINY NEEDY TOJI??? im a LITTLE too good .. BUT LAWD YOU ATE IT DOWNNNN, HATS OFF TO YOU QUEENIE

— pearl anon !!!! :3

LMAOOO OMG 🫦🫦🫦 tehe yesss he’s an actual ghost but id love to write ghostface toji one day 🤚🏽 that'd eat so hard bruh

the dick's heartbeat 😭😭😭 that's new i'm gonna use that one day. YESSSS HIS HAPPY TRAIL, i could literally write so much ab happy trails it’s actual sick idk ??? like they’re jus so sexy to me. happy trails >>>

NOT U CALLING THE COOTER DIANA PLS

right he’s so cocky he just needs to get put in his place like … (he does 🌚) HEHEJE YESSS UGH IN ITALIC. it just has more pizzazz me thinks, omg i love that word pizzazzzzz. HELPPPP ectoplasm is a ghost like substance but since it’s fanfiction let’s say it’s another type of cum 👨🏽‍💻👨🏽‍💻

YESSS tojis pussy talk is literally unmatched, literally got an ask to elaborate on his pussy talk n i’m so GEEKEDDDDD. writing his dialogue makes my stomach churn up in KNOTSSSS

right. we love sassy reader's w backbone before being put in their place >>>> THE WITCH SHIT BYE. pussarius drunkios HELP ???? 😭😭😭😭

yep, whiney toji my fav 🫦 did all that just to get put in his place <3 he’s never gonna leave us bc he’s too pussy whipped now 🙂‍↕️

[autofloricide]

closed for @ourpretender, late 2020.

"I understand grief makes us a stranger even to ourselves, but this is completely, utterly mad, you know that, right?" Venetia is hardly finished with one cigarette before she lights another. A scowl lines her face at the slight tremble that moves through her fingertips, and the next drag she takes is so deep the entire surface of her lungs feels singed. She's stood on one end of the library, staring out the window at the sodden lawn, the once yellow-green grounds turned grey and cold in the pale light of a winter storm. On the other end sits the Lady Elspeth, her fingers tucked under her chin as she dips a biscuit in her tea with an air of barely concealed annoyance. "I'd scarcely call it grieving, Venetia, your father was eighty years old. We've had arrangements made for, ohhh, about five years now, I'd say." Venetia barks a laugh, a nervous thing tinged with bitterness. She cannot believe what she's hearing right now. "So you're just the bog-standard sort of insane then? I mean, really, what on Earth were you thinking inviting Oliver Quick here?" She scrubs a hand over her face with a strained groan. "I'm glad Daddy isn't even in his grave yet because he'd be rolling about like a bloody doner kebab if he knew. He did not like that boy." In the end, neither did Venetia. But she had had no evidence, no witnesses, nothing to show at all in the eyes of the law or her family all those years ago. No one would ever care that she had bad feelings about Oliver Quick and her brother's death at the end of that awful, awful summer. Just Venetia being Venetia, really. Unreliable. Hysterical. Unfortunately female. But they hadn't seen the look in his eyes that night he found her bathing in Felix's tub. They would never know the sick smell of his sweat layered with her brother's aftershave, or the way his mouth felt when he—No. She lets a little smouldering ash fall onto her hand to stop that ancient memory right in its tracks. Elspeth rolls her eyes and delicately bites into her biscuit. "Now you're being dramatic. He wasn't in his right mind then, you know, after… everything that happened." A misty expression crosses her face as she takes another teensy nibble, her lower lip quivering ever so slightly. How Venetia wants to shake her teeth out. "And Oliver is as much a boy as you are a girl. No, he's a grown man, one that I've come to respect tremendously in the rekindling of our friendship. He has every right to be here." "I wish you'd told Colin and me ahead of time, at least," says Venetia quietly, staring at the tiny blisters beginning to form across her knuckles. "What time will he be here?" There comes an abrupt knock at the door, both Venetia and Elspeth startling as they turn to stare. Duncan gives a curt bow from the threshold. "My apologies, Your Ladyship, Miss Venetia," he nods at each of them in turn. "But Oliver Quick has just arrived."

[autismmydearwatson]

please write that essay :> /nf

We all know Daddy Ham (as he was called backstage) as the main initiator of the plot, who haunts both the narrative and his own son. He is the ghost who reveals himself to his son to command that he avenge his foul and unnatural murder by King Claudius. This spurs a vengeful but all-too-reflective Hamlet down the self-destructive vortex of justice. He places a sword in his sons hand and tells him "just fuckin kebab him" but Hamlet can't just fuckin kebab his uncle, not right away. Hamlet needs to plan. Hamlet needs clues. That's why he is perceived as procrastinating: he's not a boy of direct action, he's a man of convoluted plots and cleverness, rather like Claudius himself.

So why does Hamlet listen to the guy? It's not just because he loves his father. In many ways, the time period in which the tragedy takes place affects Hamlets beliefs. In the 16th century, the people believed three things. Trust me, it's a surprise tool we'll use later.

The last wishes of a dead or dying relative were to be taken seriously as the grave

Murder is bad

Murder of a relative (known as "kinslaying") was WORSE.

Therefore,

Hamlet MUST obey the last wishes of his dead father and fuckin kebab his uncle BUT

Murder is bad, no matter how much both Hamlet and Daddy Ham want to do it, but MOST IMPORTANTLY

Claudius is Hamlets blood uncle. If Hamlet were to kill Claudius, he would bring the curse of Kinslayer upon himself.

So Prince Hamlet is caught between a rock and a hard place, but that's not the point, so break my heart for I must hold my tongue.

The point is: Daddy Ham was a cruel and fearsome and emotionally manipulative father and I'm going to prove it.

The ghost of Daddy Ham appears five times, twice to Marcellus and Barnardo before the story takes place, once to Marcellus, Bernardo, and Horatio, once to Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus, and once to Hamlet alone.

After seeing the ghost, Horatio and the Boyz report it to a suicidal Hamlet in the middle of his Transgender Depression Soliloquy. One of the first things Hamlet interrogates the Boyz on in order to identify the ghost was:

"What, looked he frowningly?"

"A countenance more

In sorrow than in anger."

"Pale or red?"

"Nay, very pale."

- dialogue between Hamlet and Horatio, Act 1, Scene 2

He asks if he was frowning. Seems a small detail, you say, but hear me, listen: whenever Hamlet DOES see his father's ghost, he is not joyful or happy. Instead, he is scared and driven with shakes and tears. Isn't it odd that he should feel this way upon seeing his father, when his fathers death (and Gertrudes infidelity) is the reason behind his melancholy?

Again: HAMLET FEARS HIS FATHER.

Evidence, in Act 1, Scene 4:

Enter Ghost

Horatio: Look, my lord, it comes!

Hamlet: Angels and ministers of grace defend us!

The Ghost beckons Hamlet to follow him, so they can speak in private. Horatio and Marcellus attempt to hold him back in fear of his sanity, but Hamlet is determined to hear what the apparition wants from him, and follows his father to a private place.

Now, what is easy to overlook is that Daddy Ham was a military man who was killed before his sins could be forgiven, which therefore condemns him to purgatory by day and wandering the mortal realm by night. This is part of why he is so desperate for vengeance.

Purgatory in the Catholic canon is not punishment for the damned, but purification for the sinners.

I am thy fathers spirit,

Doomed for a certain term to walk the night

And for the day confined to fast in fires,

Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature

Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid

To tell the secrets of my prison house,

I could a tale unfold whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,

Thy knotted and combined locks to part

And each particular hair to stand on end,

Like quills upon the fearful porpentine.

- Daddy Ham to Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5

Obviously, this hinting at the Horrors awaiting in the afterlife is frightening enough to Hamlet, who as we know is someone who is deeply afraid of what happens after death. But for what foul crimes is Daddy Ham confined? What did he DO? Being a great warrior in his time, as supported by both Horatio and Hamlet, we can assume things such as horrific war crimes or bloody sacrifices.

But what's more interesting are the lines immediately after this:

Ghost: List, list, O list!

If thou didst ever thy dear father love--

Hamlet: O God!

Ghost: Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder

"If you my son ever loved me, you must avenge my murder."

Dunno about you, but that sounds, I don't know, manipulative as FUCK.

ESPECIALLY to a kid who probably believes thoroughly that kinslaying is unforgivable, but is bound to obey the wishes of his dead father.

The next time Daddy Ham appears is shortly after Hamlet kills Polonius, mistaking him for Claudius, and is in the middle of slutshaming his mom.

Hamlet: A king of shreds and patches--

Enter Ghost

Save me and hover o'er me with your wings,

You heavenly guards!--What would your gracious figure?

Gertrude: Alas, he's mad!

Hamlet: Do you not come your tardy son to chide,

That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by

The important acting of your dread command?

O, say!

Ghost: Do not forget. This visitation

Is but to sharpen thy almost blunted purpose.

Act 3, Scene 4

*This is the second time Hamlet has cried out for angels to protect him after being taken by surprise by his dad's ghost.

Gertrude: Whereon do you look?

Hamlet: On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!

His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones

Would make them capable.

(To Ghost) Do not look upon me,

Lest with this piteous action you convert

My stern effects. Then what I have to do

Will want true color-- tears perchance for blood.

This is his father we're dealing with, who Hamlet has mourned for two months. Yes, Hamlet is someone who deeply fears death and everything in the afterlife, but case in point: no son should be afraid of his father.

The "tears perchance for blood" line is worrying as well: "Do not keep looking at me that way, or else I will cry instead of doing what you want."

In the next scene, Gertrude says:

To draw apart the body he hath killed.

O'er whom his very madness, like some ore

Among a mineral of metals base,

Shows itself pure. He weeps for what is done.

-Act 4, Scene 1

But does Hamlet cry for the bloody deed? Or is he crying because he's scared?

"But Jasper," you may say, "Hamlet is shown multiple times singing his fathers praises!"

So we do! But part of Hamlets tragedy is that we never really get to know Hamlet before he is grief-stricken and suicidal. Therefore all instances of Hamlet extolling Daddy Hams virtues are only seen after Daddy Ham is dead.

That it should come to this.

But two months dead--nay, not so much, not two.

So excellent a king, that was to this

Hyperion to a satyr. So loving to my mother

That he might not beteem the winds of heaven

Visit her face too roughly.

-Act 1, Scene 2

*note the emphasis on how kind Daddy Ham was to his wife, but no mention of kindness to Hamlet himself.

He was a man. Take him for all in all.

I shall not look upon his like again.

-Act 1, Scene 2

See what a grace is seated on his brow?

Hyperions curls, the front of Jove himself,

An eye like Mars to threaten and command,

A station like the herald Mercury

New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill--

A combination and a form indeed

Where every god did seem to set his seal

To give the world assurance of a man.

-Act 3, Scene 4

Why is the timing of these praises significant? The fact that Hamlet is making these remarks two months after his father's death means its possible that Hamlet, still in the early stages of grief, is trying to remember only the best parts of his father. It is a tactic I have unfortunately experienced firsthand. He is grieving, his father is dead, his mother remarried almost immediately, and his birthright taken out from under him: why dwell on the abuses he possibly endured when he could simply gloss over them by emphasizing what he liked most about his dad?

Case in point:

Daddy Ham is trapped in purgatory for crimes he committed while still living

That he has yet to redeem himself for.

He tells his son to avenge him, or else he never loved him

Hamlet is so afraid of his own dad that he almost cries upon his appearance.

Hamlet emphasizes his father's virtues and ignores the manipulative aspects to process his grief

Daddy Ham was abusive, thank you for reading

[6peaches]

Gerardo Azpiri Iglesias - Peach Vodka in Sodom

I thought about him in my bed—sober— when images of sunsets in Tel Aviv and Louis Vuitton moccasins at bar mitzvahs

could’ve appeared in my head but didn’t. I remembered the cold nights when I kissed him, how he made me feel as if I had brimstone

for blood. Pain came back in Shabbats with the memory of his skin on my Ferragamo belt. Leather and flesh, that’s all there ever was—all there’ll ever be.

I knew it even then but I liked it, and wanted more. Even the rabbi’s words in the synagogue tempted my tongue to sell him my soul. My father believed

that I was a good boy. That I read the Torah, that I didn’t eat pork, and that I never bit any apples. Instead, we swallowed liters of peach-flavored

poison. But he never knew about that. He never knew anything about that night. Not about the bad lamb kebab we threw into my neighbor’s backyard,

nor about the bottle of limoncello he bought in Milan, and how we took shots from it. Not about the laughter in the kitchen, not about the boy

teaching me that Versace cologne had more uses other than to smell like my daddy’s wallet. There were no embers left in my heart

so I called it nothing. But of course it wasn’t nothing. I floated on the Dead Sea and the red buoys in the distance looked like crosses. I tried gulping the water,

and I thought about him in my bed, unable to move, unable to unsee the sins I’d committed. And it was then that Lot’s wife and I began to share a certain thought:

the most unbearable part of becoming a pillar of salt is that we have to keep looking back, long after the flames have been extinguished.

[motherraid]

whatre your horny thoughts on zhongli im curious

-🌈Bisky

Now see now see now see Zhongli is a comfort character for me, alright? I see him as a father figure to the traveler tbh. Now listen, I'm not gonna take up too much of your time with this, the old man needs rest, yknow?

But if this man ain't schmexy-

HORNY THOUGHTS: Zhongli

I feel like Li would he a gentle lover. Not just because it's his personality, but because he's too afraid of hurting you.

Now, if we're talking about younger menace Rex Lapis... That's a whole different story. We'll focus on our present Li for now.

When it comes to Zhongli I feel like he's kinda chivalrous even in bed. He does prefer to be giving more than than receiving mainly since I feel that he's a God and he's probably had sex before (with Guizhong stfu they were lovers I've deemed it so), and he's not all that concerned with what a human could do to make a God reach his big O. That would take a LOT of work.

Now, if you WANTED to take care of him, he'd happily oblige,,, however;;

You "taking care of him" in his mind is just him being able to ravage you without any concern for your wellbeing so.. Unless you wanna be skewered on his dick like a fucking kebab regardless of how many times you tell him to stop.... No.

I have a small hc that his arms and hands glow along with his legs like in most fanart. If you didn't know this man was a God if not some form of a higher being, well,... You know now.

Honestly after what you've said a couple days ago his dick absolutely glows no doubt about it.

I don't think he'd necessarily have a daddy kink per say... He likes to use names in bed, but it's more of the standard, my love, darling, sweetheart, honey, more lovey dovey shit, you feel me?

If you call him sir in bed, he might shudder and groan into your neck, but that's as much as you'll get from nicknames alone.

Not so sure he'd have a thing for degrading (like I said, younger Rex Lapis is a WHOLE different story), like it's not really a turn on, but if you like it, he'd be happy to do it.

Listen, man's a service top, mkay? Tell him what you want, how you want it, when you like it and where to do it. He will happily oblige.

Speaking of turn ons, I also don't think he has a particularly high sex drive despite his ridiculously long stamina, yknow? There'll be some nights where he can, on a whim, fuck you waist deep onto the kitchen counter, and other nights where just being in your presence without sex is a must.

Now I know I said he doesn't like degradation, but that doesn't mean I don't think he has a secret (erosion. Ha) Corruption kink.

If you're new to sex or not confident in your abilities or body, he wants to fucking destroy you. It may sound bad, but he secretly feeds off that insecurity. Off that innocence that's coming from you.

If you admit to him after sex that you're feeling bad that you're not servicing him enough because you were a virgin, you think you're not the prettiest sight to see nude, or you're just inexperienced, don't be confused when he's on top of you again for round two. You did this to yourself.

Yes, he should be comforting you, and he'll do that afterwards since he feels bad for not doing so in the moment, but he just can't help it. You're too cute.

[hxseok-honee]

sundress || part 18

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 18] || make you feel better

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [and if you were my little girl // i’d do whatever i could do] daddy issues x the neighbourhood

taglist [open] :

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_____________________________

Saturday, 23 October, 10:13pm

“Are you feeling any better?” Y/n blinks and looks over at Yoongi while she’s dropping empty McDonald’s containers in her garbage bin. He’s standing by the window, pushing it open and fanning himself, cheeks red. It’s starting to get rather chilly outside these days, and the castle’s finally turned on its heating systems to keep the students from freezing to death as winter nears.

The problem -- for most Slytherins, in fact -- is that Yoongi’s so used to the dungeons always being cold that it takes him some time to adjust to the heated rooms above ground in the winter. Y/n’s bedroom feels normal to her, but to him it’s a damn sauna, a sentiment emphasized by the fact that he’s stripping out of his hoodie as he makes his way to her wardrobe to look for thinner pajama bottoms than the ones he’d shown up in. When he finds what he’s looking for, he’s ducking into her bathroom, calling out to her through the door.

“Answer me, nerd.” Y/n hums, having forgotten that he’d even asked her something because she’s so busy trying to decide how to survive the night with that chill coming in through the window.

“I’m okay -- Yoongi, how are you expecting me to sleep with that window open? We’ll both catch a cold.” Pulling the door open, Yoongi tosses his other pants over her desk chair and points at his hoodie, abandoned on her bed.

“Should still be warm.” He doesn’t say anything more about it, heading over to where his laptop sits on her mattress, their movie paused. “You’re only feeling okay?” He’s very nonchalant about the whole thing, but he keeps bringing it up, so Y/n knows he wants to have this conversation.

“Yeah, I’m just -- I dunno, stressed. Tired. Overwhelmed. Did I mention stressed?” Breathing out a laugh through his nose, Yoongi checks that the battery on his laptop’s still fine while Y/n reaches for his hoodie. Sliding it over her head, she finds that he wasn’t wrong -- it is still warm. It also smells like him, and she breathes in the scent easily, already mourning the moment that the material will start to smell like her instead.

She’s so busy pressing the sleeves to her nose and humming with satisfaction at the smell that she doesn’t notice Yoongi’s watching her from where he sits on the edge of her bed. When she finally looks up and meets his eyes, she sees that he’s got a fond look on his face, smiling up at her while she gets distracted by the comfort of wearing his clothes.

“Having fun?” If this were any other day, she might be embarrassed that she’s been caught sniffing his hoodie. But she’s feeling warm and a little delirious both from the food and the exhaustion of such a long day, so she’s just nodding, pressing the sleeves to her face again. Yoongi’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Okay, well -- we can finish the movie or just go to bed? If you’re tired?” Y/n shakes her head, still feeling too wound up from the day to even fathom going to sleep right now.

“Let’s finish the movie — I’ll probably fall asleep at some point.” He nods, scooting back on the mattress until he can lean against the headboard and get under the blanket, beckoning her over with a pat of his hand on the space between his legs.

“Come on — I’ll keep you warm.” Unable to deny the excitement she feels at the thought of being held while she drifts off to sleep, Y/n crawls over to Yoongi, settling with her back against his chest. She sighs contently when he wraps his arms around her, hitting the spacebar on his laptop with his foot to resume the movie before bending his knees and caging her in. She feels safe here.

They watch the movie in silence for a few minutes, Yoongi holding Y/n’s hands in his and playing with her fingers to try and soothe her with small movements. It seems to work, because she’s curling into him even more after a moment. Pressing a kiss to her temple, Yoongi whispers to her.

“Is there anything I can do?” Y/n shuts her eyes with a smile, filled with adoration. Ever since what had happened on Thursday, when she’d expressed her insecurities, Yoongi had been more attentive than usual. Keeping an eye on her and spending more time attached to her physically, he’d been very affectionate the last couple of days. She’s not even sure he’s noticed. “Y/n?” She cracks her eyes open, letting out a noise of confusion. Yoongi smiles softly, repeating himself.

“Let me help you… please?” Humming quietly, she finds it hard to concentrate, feeling herself getting lost in his warmth — he’s solid against her, strong and secure. With his heartbeat against her back, his breathing in sync with hers… it’s comforting. She knows he’ll take care of her if she asks.

“There’s… one thing… that might be nice.” He squeezes her, letting her know he’s listening. Their hands are intertwined in her lap, but she’s extracting her right hand from the pile and placing it gently on the back of his. Guiding him slowly, she sets his hand at the base of her throat, feeling him inhale sharply behind her when he gets the message.

“I thought you said you didn’t wanna talk to Rough Yoongi anytime soon.” He says it jokingly, but she hears the genuine question within.

“It doesn’t have to be rough…” Blinking quickly, he starts putting the pieces together in his head, realizing what she wants. But his silence is a little too long, worrying her, and she’s turning just enough that she can see him out of the corner of her eye.

“We don’t have to… is it because it’s Saturday?” If he’s honest, he’d completely forgotten about the fact that this would technically break one of their rules, but he’s pretty sure he’d broken a rule at that Gryffindor party not long ago. Besides, she needs his help.

“I don’t care about that… I just wanna make you feel better.”

She’s already whining, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Moving his hand, he wraps his fingers around her throat, pausing to meet her eyes before he does anything else.

“But I need you to do one thing for me.”

“Anything.”

He purses his lips, incredibly fond of her in this moment — usually, it takes a while to break her, but she’s already given in. She’s already relinquishing control, leaving everything up to him. It’s adorable, but he’s still cautious, not wanting to go too far -- not tonight.

“You have to tell me how you’re feeling when I ask. Sound fair?”

She nods quickly, breathing out a confirmation as she leans her head back on his shoulder and shuts her eyes.

“Mm… sounds fair…”

Keeping his gaze on the side of her face, he runs his thumb and two of his fingers along the sides of her neck, feeling her shiver against him. Satisfied, he presses the rest of fingers down, palm warm against the base of her throat.

When he squeezes tight, her body reacts automatically, a shaky breath leaving her while she clings to him. Her hands ball up the material of his pants when she grabs at his thighs, and Yoongi’s shocked to see how responsive she is.

“Are you that wound up, babygirl?” She whines quietly, and he squeezes once in warning. She hadn’t answered him. “Let’s try that again, hm?”

“I’m sorry…” He watches her frown as she apologizes, her eyes cracking open to glance nervously up at him. “Are you upset with me?” Removing his hand from her throat, Yoongi brushes his thumb over her cheek, shaking his head.

“Not upset… Just want you to answer my questions so I know you’re okay.” She nods, unintentionally pouting at him while she finally responds to his question.

“I’m still just… really tense, I guess…” Dragging his fingers back down the column of her throat, Yoongi squeezes suddenly — it’s not harsh or shocking, only firm, his hand steady against her. It pulls a sigh out of her, and her eyelids are fluttering closed as she drops her head back against his shoulder again.

“Feel good?” She smiles hazily, a whispered ‘yes… thank you’ leaving her, and Yoongi can’t help but smile at how honest she is. Pressing tighter, he doesn’t say a word about the shaky moan that slips out, only wrapping his free arm around her waist and holding her closer to his chest.

“Don’t worry about anything, okay? I’ll take care of you, babygirl.” Her whine is loud, and he sees now that that’s what she needs from him -- to help her forget. To give her a break… Yoongi plans on making that happen for her.

“Trust me?” She echoes back immediately, the ‘trust you’ breathy and distracted, like she’s not totally paying attention. But she’d remembered to answer, so Yoongi knows she’s still with him.

“Want me to fix it?” She whines out a confirmation, nodding slowly. This one’s delayed, prompting Yoongi to check in on her.

“How are you feeling?” A pause, and then—

“Good… feel good… better…” Yoongi flexes his fingers, pressing down for longer this time to reward her for being honest with him. When he finally eases up, she’s gasping for breath, and he can feel her heart racing through her back — or maybe that’s his heart. He’s not sure. They’ve done this before, but not like this, so he’s getting a little nervous that what he’s doing won’t be enough to help her. But he has to be steady for her, so he’s pushing forward, hoping he can do it right.

Pressing his mouth to the shell of her ear, he’s mumbling softly to her -- it’s permission, permission to forget everything and give him control. And, even though he’s unsure of himself, it turns out to be exactly what she needs.

“Just let it all go, babygirl… Don’t think about anything but me.” He squeezes for emphasis while he says it, only releasing her when he feels her exhale deeply, going lax against him. Running his fingers gently over all the places he’d pressed too hard, wondering if he’d accidentally left bruises, he whispers to her, checking in.

“Better?” When she doesn’t respond after a moment, his heart is dropping, and he’s glancing down at her quickly, fingers going to her chin so he can turn her head toward him.

“Y/n?” She doesn’t make any move to acknowledge him, only nuzzling her face into his neck slightly. Yoongi furrows a brow, blinking through the pounding in his ears because he needs to figure out what to do. Had he gone too far?

“Baby? Hey…” Taking her face in his hand, he shakes her gently, trying to get something -- anything -- out of her. She must be able to hear the slight edge in his voice, because she’s finally responding. Just a hum, but it’s enough to have him sighing in relief. “There you are…”

“…’m sorry…” Breathing out a laugh, Yoongi works at slowing his heart rate while he responds.

“You’re not in trouble… just wanna know how you’re doing.” Y/n shifts in his arms, turning in his lap until she’s curled up to his chest, her mind fuzzy. She only nods, and Yoongi knows that’s all he’s getting out of her. But he’s gonna need more than that.

“Feel better?” She nods again, stronger this time.

“Better… much better…” He’s glad, because he’s not sure he’d be able to keep going with this tonight, still a little on edge. But as he looks down at her, he can see that she’s completely at ease, all of the tension in her shoulders and face gone now. His chest swells, proud of himself for being able to help her after all.

And then a breeze is drifting in through the open window, and she’s shivering against him. He looks over at it, relaxing his hold on her as he considers getting up to shut it.

“Want me to close the window?” Immediately, she’s latching onto the front of his shirt, holding him back. Her eyes open then, expression laced with panic. His own eyes go wide, too, not having expected her to come out of her headspace that fast.

“No-- Don’t go…” Yoongi breathes out a laugh of disbelief.

“I wasn’t gonna leave, baby…” But he doesn’t push it, only readjusting his arms around her, pulling her close again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sliding his leg out from under the comforter, he closes his laptop with his foot, their movie completely abandoned.

Deciding he’d honestly rather risk breaking the device than letting Y/n go for even the few seconds it would take him to move it to her bedside table, he nudges the computer toward the edge of the bed, aiming for the spot where he’d left his bag earlier and pushing it off. He winces when it crashes to the hardwood floor instead. He’ll just buy a new one.

Turning to look at Y/n, he shuffles around on the mattress until they’re tucked comfortably under the blanket, Y/n’s face hidden in his chest.

“Doing okay?” He feels her nod, and then she’s lifting her head to look at him -- her eyes seem clearer now, he notes.

“I’m good now… sorry for not answering you earlier…” With a smile, he scoots down until they’re eye level with each other. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her as close as possible.

“It’s okay… I was just worried…” Y/n looks him over, seeing the lingering anxiety in his eyes. He must have tried really hard for her.

“I’m sorry, I was just… a little out of it, I guess. It felt nice, so I didn’t want to come out of it.” Yoongi nods, finally understanding what had been happening to her.

“Good… I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that you just weren’t registering anything anymore…” He pauses, biting at his lip nervously. “It… was good, right? I did okay?”

Y/n just stares at him for a moment, wondering how he could possibly not be sure of himself after having just seen her fall apart. After having just made her fall apart. Smiling fondly, she leans in, pressing her mouth to his. It’s soft, their lips barely touching, but it’s enough to have him exhaling deeply, releasing the stress he’d been feeling.

When she pulls back, she’s smiling softly at him, but then her mind is flashing back to what she’d been worried about earlier, the feeling creeping up on her again. She eyes him guiltily, only voicing her concern when he lifts a brow at her.

“Is it okay… that I asked us to break a rule? I won’t do it again…” She’s unprepared for the wide smile Yoongi shoots her, his gums peeking through. He finds it incredibly cute how vulnerable she is, pouty and nervous.

“I really don’t care, Y/n. I just wanted to make you feel better… as long as you’re okay, nothing else matters.” She pouts again, this one more because she’s not sure how to respond, her face warming from how gently he’s looking at her, gaze full of endearment. Deciding finally to just curl up to him and hide her face in his neck again, she lies there for a moment, listening to his breathing. It’s just as comforting even now, when she’s free of the things that had been worrying her. He’s just as solid against her -- just as safe.

“Can we still finish the movie?” Yoongi snickers when she mumbles the question into the crook of his neck, shaking his head.

“Yeah… my laptop’s definitely broken, babe.”

[honorguk]

dating ➔ lee felix

» navigation | REQUESTED 

what it’s like to date felix from stray kids (based on my assumptions)

──────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ──────

─ • OVERALL:

“honey! i made you cookies!” (this is expected obviously)

does a lot of grandiose yet still secret gestures, like order flowers to your door without telling you 

cuddles !!! holy crap i can’t stress this enough !!!

your relationship is so affectionate and romantic - it’s actually a kdrama, with a tad more westernization

*you obsessing over his silky voice* 

“y/n? are you listening?” “sorry, what? say it again, babe, i couldn’t quite hear..”

looooves stroking your hair and playing with it

he’ll even make you sit down on the floor as he’s above you on the couch and will braid or brush your hair as you guys watch a movie

and you’ll paint his nails and do face masks and all of that

you guys were best friends before being lovers, and that’s always been visible in your relationship

you’d be talking shit about the same people, too, and it would get soooo dramatic

“do you even know what she said to me today?” you’d say as you stood up from the couch and raised your arms

“what did she say?” felix sat at the edge of his seat with widened eyes as he awaited your response

can’t go to sleep unless you’re with him (which makes sleeping on tour incredibly hard)

helps you with your revision and homework if you’re in school, and helps you to sort emails and paperwork if you’re older than that

you’d come to his practices with bags of food for all the boys and they’d cheer

you’re the literal mom of the group

and you’re in the stray kids group chats too

honestly your relationship is so wholesome and sweet and gentle with just enough playfulness and passion that it’s such an ideal example for everyone else

─ • DATES YOU GO ON:

prefers the typical late night Netflix session since he barely has any time to lounge, and prefers to lounge with you

or you go out to get takeaway from a nearby kebab place or something, fully in your sweats and jumpers 

rarely it’s a fancy outing, but when it happens, he wears a white dress shirt that you always end up in at the end of the night 

but yeah, video game competitions, snacks, and fuzzy socks

bro like a grocery shopping trip is a date (he’ll make you ride the shopping cart and film you fall over and then ditch the isle in laughter) 

(but he will come pick you up afterwards and pretend to fall to lessen the embarrassment)

(because he cares)

─ • PET NAMES:

“babyyy” “sweetieeee” a lot of those sweet little nicknames that really make your heart thump

also a lot of ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’

i see you calling him ‘kitten’ often which he secretly adored but it makes him blush every time

he has you in his phone as ‘sweetheart <3’ which is just so gay and so cute 

─ • WHILE ON TOUR:

honestly, the kid’s so focused on work he barely had time to pick up his phone :( 

he tries his best to respond to everything, but he really, really can’t

yet, that means that when he comes back home from tour the time spent together will be so much more special (you two lowkey love missing each other)

he will buy so many little gifts and souvenirs and keep a few stray posters and merchandise pieces he found for when he greets you again

the company allowed him to talk to you on the V-Live app since that’s when you’d tune in for sure, and he would have full blown conversations with you just through chat (or try to)

that’s also when when people found out you two were a thing, and the internet went crazy, but that’s a different story

but yeah, tour felix is on constant ‘do not disturb’ mode, but i promise you that he misses you every passing second

─ • ARGUING/MAKING UP:

felix HATES to argue and so do you, especially since he has the tendency to make faces and roll his eyes a LOT

“felix, could you please stop being so childish?” “only if you do it first” - you see what i’m talking about?

he does try to be reasonable but often fails, so arguments could get out of hand

they don’t happen often but there are times where you find yourself being sassy and shady for a minute or so, then forget about it

very pouty and whiny if it’s not that serious, but that can easily turn to groans and exclamations if the boy gets riled up

can say things he doesn’t mean because he’s still learning how to balance and compromise and understand

but the way you’ll make up is usually by felix coming to you first

whether you’ve come to visit his practice room or you’re just chilling on the couch, felix will solemnly walk towards you and pressing his forehead against your shoulder, waiting for you to hug him

if you don’t, he knew he fucked up, but most times you do, and then you’ll talk it out

gosh he’s so scared to lose you please don’t leave ;(

─ • NSFW:

in my eyes, the boy’s a switch

could go from soft to hard, dom to sub, whines to growls at any time but mostly based on your commands and preferences for the night

once he’s done he’ll often collapse on you, out of breath, and you guys would just lie there for a bit, enjoying the weight and contact of your bodies in heat

he’s the type to take off and put on your clothes back on you, but very very gently 

would also bring up water and a shirt of his as part of aftercare

also very down for experiments (daddy/mommy, pet play, bondage, blindfolds, ice cubes...you name it)

loves being a sub though (and will probably let you peg him let’s be honest here)

(and maid dresses)

(and cat ears and leashes and stockings and skirts)

would also hold your hand throughout

DEFINITELY has a sadistic side!! you’ve seen his smirks on stage? how feisty he is with the members??? it’s very deep down and he barely knows it's there himself but it is there

equally masochistic, his eyes are begging for you to slap him

if you’re asking for it, and have really gotten on his nerves that day, he’ll degrade you with “my dumb little pup” and “nothing but a cumslut” “all you are is a toy”

but of course, at the end he’ll say he didn’t mean it, even though you already know that

wouldn’t end the night without telling you how much he loves you while cradling you in his arms whilst falling asleep

[rebelwrites]

Date Disaster

Jax Teller x Reader

A/N so I think everyone that’s read Dating Advice asked for a part two, so here we go

“Now remember I’m only a text away okay” Jax said as you fastened your helmet up.

“Nothing is gonna go wrong Jackie boy” you laughed looking over at him.

“Just saying” he shrugged “all you gotta do is text and I will be there”

“Riiigggght” you rolled your eyes “can I go now or you just gonna keep assuming it’s gonna go wrong”

“Nah you can go” he shrugged “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”

“Pfft that gives me plenty of things to do then” you giggled starting your engine “I will be back later”

Jax watched as you rode out of the lot, he did some digging on this Trent dude and he didn’t know what you saw in him, like he was on the straight and narrow, never even got a ticket and was a rich fucker which was all daddy’s money.

“Please tell me ye haven’t done anything Jackie boy” Chibs said offering Jax a smoke.

“Why would you think I’ve done anything?” Jax asked, raising his brow.

“A know you’ve done a background check on him and A know ye like her so” Chibs smirked.

“I’ve honestly done nothing but I have a feeling I will end up saving the night” Jax shrugged.

Pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant, caused you to get some funny looks, along with the reaper emblem on the back of your leather jacket. Parking your bike you took your helmet off shaking your hair out.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Trent walking over to you.

“If I would have known you’d come on your bike I would have picked you up” he said putting you on edge a bit as you climbed off your bike adjusting your dress.

Thank god you remembered to wear your gym shorts underneath.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it” you smiled hoping that he wasn’t judgemental.

As soon as you sat down you ordered a whisky where he ordered a bottle of red wine.

“You not having wine, sweetheart?” He asked.

“I don’t actually like it” you laughed “more whiskey, beer and hard liquor”

“Right” he said, glancing up from the menu. “So tell me a bit more about yourself?”

“I mean you know the basics from texting but I’m very family oriented, like I’d do anything for them even if they aren’t blood” you smiled as you scanned the menu for what you wanted.

Where were the chicken nuggets? The burgers? The kebabs?

Before he could answer the waitress arrived.

“I will take the sea bass and my good lady will take the chicken salad” Trent said flashing the waitress a smile.

You didn’t even want a pissing salad.

“So what do you do for work?” He asked sipping his wine.

“I’m a mechanic” you said proudly “I do a lot around the garage”

“Don’t you want to achieve more?” He asked.

“I enjoy what I do” you shrugged “i love my cars and bikes and quite often we will head to the track for the day and race”

As you were talking you felt his eyes burning into your arm, obviously trying to get a better look at the tattoo on the inside of your arm.

“I actually got this when I was 17” you smiled moving your arm so he could see the ink “my uncle did it for my birthday”

“And it’s a reaper” he sighed

“Is that a problem?” You asked sipping your whiskey.

“I just didn’t expect you to have it tattooed, or arrive on a bike and I saw the reaper on the back of your leather jacket” Trent said with a disapproving look. “Like I’ve heard stories about the sons of anarchy and non are which are good”

“Okay” you said resting your hand on your fist, just hoping he hadn’t ran a background check on you, because he would know you did a stretch in Stockton when you covered for the club.

“I also know you have a criminal record” he said.

“Honestly I don’t see why that is an issue with it” you shrugged.

“Hmmm” he nodded.

“Excuse me” you said “I’m just going to the bathroom”

Walking away from the table, you couldn’t believe it, like you had never met anyone so judgemental as him.

Leaning against the counter in the bathroom, you felt so out of place in this restaurant, pulling your phone out you stared at Jax’s name in your phone contemplating texting him.

📲 to Jackieboy🖤😈

- 🆘

📱 from Jackieboy🖤😈

- say no more on my way be with you in 15, will call you when I’m outside, just play along x

Sliding your phone back into your purse you went to join Trent again, who was on the phone, as you got closer he was talking business, not even realising you were back.

Your salad had been placed in front of you making you scoff, it was half a chicken breast, some carrot, shredded beetroot and a few leaves of lettuce. Taking a picture of it as proof of what he ordered for you. Picking at the chicken you were just waiting on your phone ringing.

After another 10 minutes you felt it going off in your purse.

“Sorry I’m gonna have to take this” you nodded, placing your fork down.

“You know I’m on a date right?” You laughed.

“Told you, you’d end up calling me” Jax said a smirk evident in this voice.

“Wait what please tell me you are joking right?”

“I’m outside now”

“Shit, I’m on my way” you sighed ending the call.

“I am so sorry, I am going to have to go, my grandpa has been rushed into hospital” you whispered, making your bottom lip quiver.

“Oh I hope he’s okay” Trent said looking up from his phone.

“Urm thanks, it’s been nice” you nodded slipping your jacket on.

“Maybe another time?” He asked making you want to laugh.

“Maybe, sorry I really need to go” you said pretty much running out of the restaurant.

Glancing around you saw Jax sat on his bike at the start of the drive, climbing on your bike you slowly rode up to him, placing a smoke between your lips you smiled at him.

“How did you know I’d text you?” You asked as you rested your head on his shoulder as you picked at the nuggets you brought before heading to the hills.

“Just had a feeling I guess, I know his type” Jax whispered.

“Yeah the prick ordered for me” you laughed “and he ordered a fucking salad”

“God no” Jax laughed as he watched you dunk the chicken nugget in the sauce before taking the whole thing in your mouth.

“Uh huh the bastard fed me rabbit food” you said with a mouthful of nugget “like do I look like a fucking rabbit”

“So no second date then?” Jax laughed kissing the top of your head.

“I’d rather do a stint in Stockton again or get shot than go out with that prick again” you laughed looking up at Jax.

“Good to hear darlin’” Jax smirked “like I said maybe the person you are destined to be with is sat right with you”

It was at that point you choked on your drink.

“What” you said slightly out of breath as Jax just smiled at you.

“Why do you think I didn’t add anything when you asked for advice, it’s because I didn’t want you going on the date” He said resting his hand on your cheek.

“Jax” you breathed

“Darlin’ I’ve been dropping hints for the last six months that I really like you” he smirked.

“I just thought you were messing with me” you whispered as you looked into his eyes.

“Nah not messing with you babe” he smiled leaning closer to you “I know you have had a crush on me since school, I mean you told me so the night we got blackout drunk and you woke up with no memories of the night before”

“Well I feel like an idiot now” you said feeling rather embarrassed.

“So can I kiss you now or what?” He grinned resting his forehead against yours, his breath tickling your skin.

“Yeah” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you onto his lap before pressing his lips against yours.

Your lips moved in sync, the feeling you got was something you had never felt before, it was like you were flying as your tongue explored each other’s mouths.

Pulling away, you rested your forehead against his, your grin was so wide, and you felt like a teenager again.

“This date is so much better” you whispered against his lips whilst playing with his hair.

“It better be or I’m not kissing you again” he smirked “I know I’m not a rich kid but I can offer you so much more than that prick can babygirl”

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @woahitslucyylu @beth-winchester21 @minnicelli @everyhowlmarksthedead @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @angelreyesgirl @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @sadeyesgf @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @fvckthisbxtchup

[missedstations]

“Peach Vodka in Sodom” - Gerardo Azpiri Iglesias

I thought about him in my bed—sober— when images of sunsets in Tel Aviv and Louis Vuitton moccasins at bar mitzvahs

could’ve appeared in my head but didn’t. I remembered the cold nights when I kissed him, how he made me feel as if I had brimstone

for blood. Pain came back in Shabbats with the memory of his skin on my Ferragamo belt. Leather and flesh, that’s all there ever was—all there’ll ever be.

I knew it even then but I liked it, and wanted more. Even the rabbi’s words in the synagogue tempted my tongue to sell him my soul. My father believed

that I was a good boy. That I read the Torah, that I didn’t eat pork, and that I never bit any apples. Instead, we swallowed liters of peach-flavored

poison. But he never knew about that. He never knew anything about that night. Not about the bad lamb kebab we threw into my neighbor’s backyard,

nor about the bottle of limoncello he bought in Milan, and how we took shots from it. Not about the laughter in the kitchen, not about the boy

teaching me that Versace cologne had more uses other than to smell like my daddy’s wallet. There were no embers left in my heart

so I called it nothing. But of course it wasn’t nothing. I floated on the Dead Sea and the red buoys in the distance looked like crosses. I tried gulping the water,

and I thought about him in my bed, unable to move, unable to unsee the sins I’d committed. And it was then that Lot’s wife and I began to share a certain thought:

the most unbearable part of becoming a pillar of salt is that we have to keep looking back, long after the flames have been extinguished.

[starkerobsession]

I was tagged by @thatrandomsomnia and @tony-is-my-daddy (thank youuuuu) ❤️

Rules: answer 30 questions and tag people you want to know better.

1. Name/nickname: Hannah

2. Gender: Female

3. Star Sign: Aquarius

4. Height: Around 5”2

5. Time: 19:55pm

6. Birthday: 20th January

7: Favourite band/group: I don’t really listen to many bands. Maybe 5SOS and I used to love 1D.

8. Favourite solo artist: Marina and the Diamonds, Melanie Martinez

9. Song stuck in my head: Hymn by Joel Porter

10. Last movie watched: Infinity War

11. Last show watched: The 100 (my faveee) 🖤

12. When did I create this blog: January 2020 I think. My old blog was created in January 2019 but Tumblr deleted it.

13. What do I post: Starker 🥰

14. Last thing I googled: ‘Why is a doughnut called a doughnut?’

15. Other blogs: I have a few Harry Potter blogs - @asiriuscrushonmoonyx @regulusblacksdiery @marauders-era-musings @marauder-texts

16. Do I get asks: Occasionally, I’d love to get more though. Never feel bad about sending me an ask 😊

17. Why I chose my url: Because I’m obsessed with Starker 😅

18. Following: 170

19. Followers: 1224

20. Average hours of sleep: About 7 hours I think.

21. Lucky number: 13

22. Instruments: I sing and I can play the piano a little bit.

23. What I am wearing: My new pyjamas and my dressing gown (I’m COLD)

24. Dream job: Honestly I don’t have one... I’d prefer to just win the lottery and not have to work ever again 😂😂

25. Dream Trip: I’ve always wanted to go to Italy or Hawaii, or both 😍

26. Favourote food: Probably a lamb doner kebab

27. Nationality: British

28. Favourite song: Tongue Tied by Iwan Rheon

29. Last book read: Jurassic Park 

30. Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: Harry Potter, MCU and maybe Game of Thrones?

I tag literally anyone who feels like it :)

[matshoemels]

beginner’s guide to Turkey NT, a.k.a. the kebabs as snaccs

disclaimer: what you’re about to see here right now may cause intense feelings in your nether regions and makes you wanna question your commitment to the other national teams!

OLDIES BUT HOTTIES (Those that are around since 2016 or so)

Mert Günok, Goalkeeper. The most lowkey dude ever. (Basaksehir SK, 30) 

why the hell this man doesn’t have any decent photos or any sort of instagram account istg imma rage. just take my word for it he’s a hottie.

Harun Tekin, Goalkeeper. The penalty king. (Fenerbahçe SK, 29)

Not getting called up recently, which is honestly the biggest crime I’ve ever witnessed in my 25 year long life but sirrrrrrrrrrrr congrats on your face and body and overall existence. not only he’s a dad but he’s also a daddy u kno what I mean??? me gusta mucho

Also do yourselves a favor and watch his penalty saves on youtube, you’re all welcome.

Serdar Aziz, Defender. The Ginger Ale (Fenerbahçe SK, 28)

He’s injured these days so he can’t grace us with his sexiness and overall hotness, but he’ll be back shortly to end mbappe’s career himself for the second leg.

İsmail Köybaşı, Defender. Cameras hate him. (Fenerbahçe SK, 29)

honestly the least photogenic person I’ve ever seen in my entire life. he’s so bad at football these days that not even his own club wants him, but we should call him up for the NT just to stare at him sometimes. A total snack, I rate him 100000/10.

Nuri Şahin, Midfielder. Everyone’s favorite Turco-German. (Werder Bremen, 30)

Retired but I’m trying to raise 300 million euros to bribe him so that he would come back from his retirement, so far I raised only like 8 euros so it’s not going great. *cue guitar* I miss you, bitch. I ain’t gonna stop missing you, bitch.

Hakan Çalhanoğlu, Midfielder. Asshole but in a hot way. (AC Milan, 25)

His whole thing with his wife and his time in leverkusen are so problematic im not even gonna touch that. but what I’m gonna touch given the opportunity is those daaaaaaamn abs. jeez dude how can you be so textbook keko but also this hot at the same time?? I demand answers.

Oğuzhan Özyakup, Midfielder. The Not-So Flying Dutchguy (Beşiktaş JK, 26)

to be honest, not my thing, but Eda @youmeafterthegame likes him very much and he’s her personal emotional support keko with one working braincell that happens to be emo all the time, so he’s included. also, the camera hates him just as much as it hates Ismail.

THE NEXTGEN - We will die for them, we will kill for them.

Berke Özer, Goalkeeper. The Golden Boy. (Fenerbahçe, 19)

My favorite son whom I love with all my heart. A BABY, but also a straight-up hottie cause he got my genes. He loves everyone so much and everyone loves him back, like a puppy dog but once he hits puberty, everyone will be in a grave danger. Also he has the best bromance with his transfer boyfriend (2nd pic) that would overshadow all your crappy ships.

+ he kinda looks like kepa idk we just feel like it.

Enes Ünal, Forward. Hipster child of the Kebab NT. (Real Valladolid, 22)

Too much Harry Styles vibes, love him for that. He has a girlfriend who also plays football (and I think she’s waaaay more successful than him? who even knows) and they’re adorable. A child that grew up right in front of our eyes, and then said “fuck this, imma go play at man city and then play in every single team in la liga for a year and nothing more”. he once demolished atletico madrid in 5 minutes and that was very sexy of him, congrats my son. (sorry Eda)

Kenan Karaman, Forward. “Where have you beeeen all my life?”. (Fortuna Düsseldorf, 25)

ngl I had no idea he existed until like a week ago or something but woooowwwwww....... sir you’re a fine dude with an even finer face. congrats on your overall being. 

Mehmet Zeki Çelik, Defender. My new husband once he gets old enough. (Lille, 22)

mmm excuse me sir but you don’t get to do that??? you don’t get to look like that while you’re living in france and not in turkey?? I’m sorry but this is the law imma ask you to come back here immediately and not to leave my sight not even for 1 (one) second thank u in advance.

Dorukhan Toköz, Defender. The guy that ended Paul Pogba’s career prematurely. (Beşiktaş JK, 23)

does he play in a horrible, horrible team? yes. did I hate him with a great passion during the season out of my duty to my own club? yes I did. but now it’s time to come together and when I say it’s time to come together, I really mean coming together if u know what I mean.......... congrats boy, you’ve made into the “trees I’d like to climb on” list.

that wraps things up I guess thank u for reading but more thank you to me for sitting down my ass and creating this masterpiece. you’re welcome tumblr, you owe me a big time! 

[hxseok-honee]

sundress || part 5

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 5] || stalker behavior

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [it’s crazy what you do for a friend] daddy issues x the neighbourhood

taglist [open] : @deepseavibez @thetrueghostqueen @reddeathraven @dingzerenistall @skyrro @unadulteratedlyunique @ramyagovindraj @itismochirice @wwhseokjin @drpepperobsessed @monamone @thekookiecorner @army-moa75 @burningupp-replies @lele-bb @pb-n-juju @red-kebab @heonsbebe @peachyyoongs @superloverpielamp @marifujioka @butterflylion @heyitsgigi @lochness-butmakeitsexy @miki-chi @cahowlkook @worshiphoseok @lilacdreams-00 @bongsbeforebibles @miriamxsworld @oasiswithmyg @peonyplace @annewrighthglc @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yoongiofmine @loveyoongles @instantspot @missmadwoman @x-xjaeminx-x @luvtaeha @vanillxangxl @renhold-nightspear @taeshuworld

___________________________

Friday, 17 September, 8:12pm

“What. Did. You. Do?!” Yoongi winces as Y/n slams her Herbology textbook into his shoulder yet again for a total of four smacks, one for emphasis on each of her words. Her phone sits on the table in front of them, open to the text thread with Jungkook, her last messages reading--

Because I’m dating Yoongi now, okay?? So leave me alone already.

He’d arrived not even 30 seconds ago, crossing the room to reach Y/n. Her back had been to him, so he’d seen the text thread between her and Jungkook, her ex's messages crystal clear as he read over her shoulder. Without a word to her, Yoongi had plucked her phone from her hand and started typing, Y/n unable to see what he’d been doing until he’d set her phone down on the table, the damage done with those few little lines. Now, he’s paying for his idiocy in the form of a very angry Gryffindor.

Across the table from them sits Jung Hoseok, sipping at his butterbeer with wide eyes, awkward and unsure if he should be here right now -- but Y/n isn’t even looking at him. She’s too busy staring at the side of Yoongi’s face, her own expression enraged as she points down at her phone.

“In what world was it okay to take my phone and say we’re dating?! How are we supposed to undo that?!” The Slytherin won’t look at her, only staring down at the table with a guilty smile on his face as he attempts a response.

“We… can’t?”

“We can’t!” He flinches at her explosion, entirely deserved. He turns slowly to face her, looking not unlike a scolded puppy.

“At least now… that he thinks you’re with someone… he’ll stop bothering you?” As if by some cruel joke, Y/n’s phone immediately starts ringing, Jungkook’s name flashing back at them. Yoongi can only groan, dropping his head into his hands as Y/n stands from the bar stool, a noise of frustration leaving her.

“Yoongi! This is somehow the one situation in which letting you do whatever you want has made things worse!” Yoongi slides off of his own seat, following her around the kitchen as she paces.

“Okay, I see how this might look bad, but I promise my heart was in the right place!” She stops short, turning to look at him with a deadpan expression.

“Yeah? And what exactly happened in your heart-to-brain-to-mouth filter that fucked everything up?” They take to glaring at each other now, knowing that they need to stop talking before things escalate -- after all, they’re both in the wrong here. Y/n for being too hard on Yoongi when he’d just wanted to help, and Yoongi for acting recklessly in the first place. But neither of them wants to admit it, both annoyed. The only thing that cuts the tension is Hoseok, who’s reached the end of his drink and is sipping loudly through his straw. He looks up when they turn to him, smiling sheepishly with an awkward giggle.

“Maybe I should… let you guys talk?” Yoongi sighs and looks down at his feet, hands on his hips, while Y/n shakes her head at Hoseok.

“It’s okay, we’re done fighting… I think...?” She looks to Yoongi then, who’s frowning slightly at her from where he stands. They don’t say a word for a moment, Yoongi finally dropping his hands and crossing the distance to her, his frown becoming a full-on pout when he grabs at her shoulders.

“Y/n… I’m sorry I acted stupid and sent that text without your permission. I didn't mean to make a mess of everything, but you’re right to be mad anyway.” Y/n sighs, matching Yoongi and lifting her hands to his shoulders. She’s sure that, from where Hoseok sits, they must look pretty stupid.

“Yoongi… I’m sorry I insulted your heart-to-brain-to-mouth filter. I know you were just trying to fix things… I shouldn’t have been mean to you.” They keep eye contact for just a second longer, both nodding simultaneously and dropping their arms when they’re satisfied with the mutual apologies.

“… That was the most impressive form of efficient communication I’ve ever seen!” Hoseok’s looking between them with wide eyes, a smile on his face as he spins slowly in his bar stool. Yoongi snorts, remembering just how long it had taken them to perfect their open communication method, and he mumbles a half-hearted response.

“Years of practice will do that for you.” Y/n nods in agreement before she’s turning to the table, her phone lighting up in yet another call from Jungkook. A groan leaves her, and she looks to Yoongi, who’s also staring at her phone, eyes guilty. He glances over when she turns to him, a sigh on his lips.

“Okay, look. He’s been bothering you for weeks, Y/n. After everything you’ve been through -- after all that time and work you put in to get over this fucking asshole, he won’t leave you alone! It was infuriating, so I… I don’t know, I felt like I had to do something…” Y/n’s gone back to the table while he’s been talking, and she’s watching him with resignation from where she sits. She knows exactly why he’d done it -- she had told him over the summer that he wouldn’t be allowed to start problems with Jungkook. All she wants is for their friend group to return to normal, and that would never be possible if Yoongi’s looking for reasons to start a fight with the Gryffindor.

They’d both assumed Jungkook would leave her alone and maybe even avoid her this year. They certainly hadn’t been expecting this relentless torture, constant texting and calling, and she knows Yoongi’s been getting irritated. She knows how protective he is, and he had seen what a mess she’d been this summer, so of course he’s angry. She’s angry.

So even though she hadn’t expected Yoongi to go this far, she should have known he would break eventually. But if he’s not allowed to openly prevent Jungkook from contacting her with threats or aggression, he’d do the next best thing -- he would get in Jeon Jungkook’s way. And what better way to put a wall between Jungkook and Y/n than becoming that wall? After all, Jungkook can’t have her if she’s already taken.

[itsalliepg]

Hometown - Zig x Scarlett (MC) - Part 1

SUMMARY: Scarlett (MC) wants to introduce Zig to her parents, and they’re invited to a weekend in the house where she grew up.

PAIRING: Zig x Scarlett (MC)

RATING: Everyone

WORDS: 2718

NOTE: Hey guys! In this series, I wrote Zig’s first meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, Scarlett’s (MC) parents, during The Sophomore 2 events. It’s really cute and fluffy!  English isn’t my native language. I write to practice and learn, so please sorry any mistakes. I hope you like it, and if you do, I’d appreciate if you like/comment/reblog!

Tag List:  @maxwells-nut @seawhite-seafair @molly7998@ziggy-o @purpledinosaur4ever@writtenbycandy @chenchen731 @thatspicegirlssong @christopher-powell @zigortega4life @emerald-bijou

Fanfic Masterlist

AO3 Profile

The spring break had just ended and the classes had already begun again. After his dance practice, Zig decided to go to Scarlett’s house to visit her. Kaitlyn welcomed him and said that Scarlett was in her room. He knocked on the door and she opened, grinning excitedly, her phone on her ear.

               _He’s here, mom! Just because we were talking about him – Scarlett pulled Zig into the bedroom and kissed him quickly, but he grimaced.

               _Talking about me?

               _Yeah! – she covered the phone – my parents invited us to spend this weekend with them. They think it’s about time to meet you in person. What do you think?

               _Of course, Scar! – he smiled widely – and I agree, it’s about time – she beamed and gave a little leap.

               _I knew you’d say yes! – she returned to her mom on the phone – you can count on us, mom! We’ll be there.

               On Saturday morning, Zig was driving to Scarlett’s hometown, forty minutes from Hartfeld. In a moment, she placed her hand on his knee.

               _So? Nervous? – he glanced at her. She was beaming, happy, and he sighed.

               _I won’t lie, I am. This is not the first time I do this, but, well, it’s you, your parents… - she giggled.

               _What do you mean, me and my parents?

               _I don’t want to ruin everything with them, you know? – Scarlett kissed his cheek.

               _I’m pretty sure you’ll be great, Zig – she smiled again, but he still had a worried expression – Zig, what’s the problem? – she asked, apprehensively.

               _Scarlett, do your parents…do they know about my record? – she widened her eyes, but sighed and nodded.

               _Zig, I…I don’t know if I should have done it but…you know, during the spring quarter last year, when we first met, do you remember how sad I was feeling, right? – Zig nodded – I talked to my parents a lot because it made me feel better. I told them about you, and when I did, I told them about Chris’ project, and consequently your scholarship… - she sighed – I never hide anything from them, but I know it’s a personal subject, I’m so sorry, Zig…

               _That’s okay, Scarlett. I’m worried because I’ve suffered prejudice before, including the family of my crushes and relationships. And not just because of my record, but also because I’m bi… - Zig looked at Scarlett, waiting for an answer.

               _About you being bi, I didn’t tell them, because I know this is also a personal matter, and I felt so guilty for telling them about your record, that I decided not to tell them, at least not me, I think you should tell, if you want, of course – she put her hand on his – but I’m sure they’ll be fine with it. Did I ever tell you my best friend Emma is bisexual too? They’re really open-minded about it.

               _Yeah, I remember you mentioned Emma, and it’s good to know they’re tolerant. But you’re right, I should tell them, it’s part of who I am, and it’s nice of you not to hide things from them.

               _Sure – she stroked his hair – and about your record, I think I need to tell you my dad got a little worried, but he trusts me. He raised me to be an independent, intelligent woman, he knew I’d never relate with someone dishonest, and I always told them good things about you.

               _And yet they didn’t forbid our relationship, and invited me to a weekend in your home – Scarlett nodded and the corners of Zig’s mouth finally lifted into a smile – and hey, what did you say to your parents about me? – he nudged her.

               _As I said, only good things – she laughed – last spring, when I told them about you, I said that despite all the difficulties, I met an incredible guy, sweet, caring, handsome, and he was the best thing that ever happened to me that quarter – Zig took her hand and kissed it – and since I told them we were dating, mom’s charging for me to introduce you!

               _It seems you and your mom share everything – they smiled.

               _You’re right. Mom is the person who knows me best, she can say if I’ve had a good or bad day just by listening to my footsteps. And she’s my biggest confidant – Zig looked at her, lovingly.

               _And your dad? – Scarlett sighed, chuckling.

               _Dad sometimes thinks I’m still a little girl. You’ll see when we get there. He loves to hug me and get me off the ground – they laughed – and he still calls me bebek, which is “baby” in Turkish, my grandma called him that. Oh, and when it comes to dating, well, he’s a bit jealous, but don’t worry, nothing like that movie with Ben Stiller and Robert De Niro.

               _Good to know – they laughed and Zig sighed, a little nostalgic – I just noticed something. We’ve known each other for a year now and I’m about to meet your family! – they shared another smile, wider this time.

               _You’re right! A year from the day I went to the coffee shop and a seductive barista stole my heart… - she stroked his hair playfully and he smirked.

               _And the hottest girl in Hartfeld changed my life forever – he turned and kissed her hand quickly – I love you, Scarlett.

               _I love you too, Zig.

               After a few minutes, they pulled over in front of the house where Scarlett grew up. With a stone wall, white windows and doors, a garden with grass and colorful flowers, it was a typical suburban house. Hand in hand, they headed to the door and shared a smile before Scarlett rang the bell. A middle-aged woman answered the door.

               _Scarlett, sweetie! You finally arrived! – she hugged Scarlett tightly – it’s so good to see you!

               _It’s so good to see you too, mom! – she took Zig’s hand and they went into the house – mom, this is my boyfriend, Zig Ortega. Zig, this is my mom – he held out his hand, grinning.

               _It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Thomas – she shook his hand, also grinning.

               _It’s my pleasure, Zig. I can’t believe I finally met you! Scarlett told me so much about you that I was really looking forward to this moment – she leaned toward her daughter – you weren’t lying, he’s very handsome – they laughed discretely.

               _I told you – Scarlett winked to Zig – where’s daddy?

               _Oh, he’s still worried about the kebabs, I said they’re fine. Excuse me – she went to the kitchen’s door – Louis! They’re here!

               _I’m coming, Therese! – Scarlett’s dad appeared in the doorway, drying his hands with a rag – sorry, I was taking care of our lunch – he turned to Scarlett – Scarlett! You’re here! – as she warned in the car, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her – I missed my little girl!

               _Dad! I’m not a baby anymore! – she giggled while he put her back on the floor.

               _Yeah, you’re now his baby, right? – Louis looked at Zig.

               _Dad! – she reprimanded him, and he laughed, tapping her nose with his finger.

               _I’m kidding, bebek – Scarlett rolled her eyes, but grinned. Louis came toward Zig, holding out his hand and smiling – so, you’re the famous Zig Ortega I’ve heard so much about?

               _It’s me, Mr. Thomas. Nice to meet you – Zig greeted him, smiling as well – you raised a wonderful daughter – he wrapped an arm around Scarlett’s shoulder, pulling her closer.

               _We’re very proud of her and her achievements – Therese beamed – last year we were so worried she couldn’t stay in Hartfeld, but she solved everything by herself.

               _And now she already has a book published. You’re right, she’s really wonderful – Scarlett blushed after her dad’s compliment – why don’t you take your bags to Scarlett’s room while we tidy the dining room for lunch?

               _Oh, are you going to let us sleep in the same room? – Scarlett arched an eyebrow to her dad – mom really managed to convince you?

               _Yeah, I know this has always been one of my immutable rules at home, but you’ve always been a responsible girl and deserves an exception. I trust you, my daughter.

               _Thanks, dad. But don’t worry, we will not…you know.

               _Of course – Zig said – in my house we have rules like that too. I think that would be very disrespectful – Scarlett’s parents smiled slightly.

               _Right, so Scar can show you the house while Louis and I organize everything here – picking up their stuff, Scarlett and Zig climbed the stairs and she pointed to the doors in a hallway.

               _This is my parents’ room, and here’s my dad’s office dash guest room. Here’s the bathroom – she opened the door in the end of the hallway – and here’s my room – she took his hand and pulled him inside. Zig glanced around to the decorations and the little things that were part of her early days – so, did you like it?

               _Adorable. I love learning more about you and your life – he put his bag on the bed, next to hers – I was also team Edward – he pointed to a poster on the wall. She chuckled.

               _I must confess I have a crush on Robert Pattinson to this day – they beamed and suddenly a black cat with yellow eyes came in through the window and walked along her bed – hey, Cleo! – Scarlett took the cat in her arms and petted it. The cat purred, confortable – Cleo, this is my boyfriend, Zig. Zig, this is Cleo – Zig grinned.

               _She’s so pretty! Can I hold her?

               _Of course! – Scarlett gave Cleo to Zig and soon the cat was snuggled in his arms – oh, she liked you!

               _I liked her too – he caressed Cleo’s head – do you have more pets?

               _Just her. I had a dog too – she picked a picture on her desk – here’s me and Harry, just before he got sick – she pointed to a spotted dog in the picture – he was a puppy when I adopted him from a shelter when I was five. He lived twelve years and died three months before I went to Hartfeld. I still miss Harry so much, he has seen me grow, and is part of my childhood and adolescence.

               _I’m so sorry, Scarlett. I always had dogs at home and I know how you feel – he raised the cat to face her – but at least now you have Cleo, right?

              _Yeah, I adopted her a year before Harry’s death, she was a kitten and I found her behind my high school. As you can see, she loves to be pampered.

             _She’s smart – he smiled and put Cleo back on Scarlett’s bed. The cat jumped over Zig’s bag and nestled there to sleep – well, if we took her to Hartfeld, you know why – they laughed.

               _Cleo, you’re unbelievable – she took his hands – my dad always said he’d never let me sleep with someone here before getting married. And he makes my grandmother’s kebabs only for really special occasions. He already liked you.

               _It’s reciprocal. I liked him a lot too. And I think I figured out where your middle name came from, Scarlett Louise Thomas – he tickled her, laughing.

               _Yeah, you got me – she kissed his knuckles.

               _Your mom’s amazing too, so sympathetic and kind. They were so thoughtful with me I already feel at home – he cupped her face gently – I’m so happy to be here.

               _Me too – they kissed passionately and returned to the living room, and soon everyone was seated at the table talking and eating.

               _Good job with the kebabs, Mr. Thomas, it’s delicious.

               _Thank you, Zig – Louis smiled – so, Scarlett told me you’re on the dance team now?

               _Yeah, I wanted some activity to keep my conditioning after the end of the football season. And honestly I’m enjoying it more than I expected. At the end of the year we’ll have a recital and I’m looking forward for it.

               _He talks about me, but he’s also very talented – Scarlett squeezed his knee under the table.

               _I don’t doubt it – Therese grinned – Scarlett spent the winter break watching the football games, and we joined her. We were impressed!

               _Thanks, ma’am. Sometimes I still can’t believe how far we came.

               _By the way, congrats for the title! Scar was really happy for you, and Chris. It was really kind of him to develop this program to help people like you two… - Louis stopped talking abruptly. Scarlett and Therese gazed at him, scolding – I’m so, so sorry, Zig, I didn’t mean it.

               _That’s okay, sir – Zig didn’t look uncomfortable – it’s a dark moment in my life, but today I can say I overcame this. I have people supporting me and believing I can do anything I want – he kissed Scarlett’s temple – and your daughter is one of those people.

               _We know it. She’s always was caring with everyone – Louis smiled at Scarlett – but so do you. She told us you were protecting your sister from his ex-boyfriend.

               _Exactly. I grew up surrounded of strong and amazing women, my mom and my four sisters, so when I see a woman being mistreated, I don’t know how to be oblivious to it. My dad was abusive too, and I hated to see him harm my mom. But then I realized that if I kept that aggression, I’d be acting like the people I despised. Now I see how wrong I was. And when I met Scarlett and her friends, I began to see there’re so many good people in the world. It gave me faith and strength to be different. I wasn’t a lost case like I used to think – Louis and Therese looked at Zig, enchanted with his words. All the good things Scarlett said about him were true – there’s actually one more thing that I think I should tell you, and I Scarlett still hasn’t say it – Scarlett turned to him, her eyes widened.

               _Zig… - she looked from the corner of her eye to an unreadable expression on her parents’ faces.

               _That’s okay, Scar – he turned to the Thomas and sighed – I’m bisexual. Sorry, I wasn’t hiding it, but I have to be cautious with it, because I’ve been a victim of prejudice, several times.

               _And I didn’t tell you before because it’s too personal – Scarlett looked to her parents – you’re okay with that, right?

               _Of course we are, Scarlett! – Therese smiled and took Zig’s hand on the table – Zig, don’t worry – she squeezed his hand – I imagine this must be have been difficult for you, but we’re absolutely fine with it. You can trust us.

               _Certainly. We’re sorry for the discrimination you received, Zig, but you’re safe in our house – Louis smiled as well.

               _Thank you so much, sir. That means a lot to me – Zig and Scarlett grinned, relieved. Scarlett knew her parents would be okay with it, but she didn’t know how to say it, and Zig was great. After the lunch, they sat in the living room, and Scarlett suggested show Zig some family pictures.

               _Here, I was the flower girl of our neighbor Patti’s wedding, I was seven.

               _Aw, little Scarlett was so cute!

               _I know I’m her mom, but yes, she has always been pretty.

               _You need to see her during her adolescence, this is from her freshman high school days – Zig took the photo of Louis’ hand.

               _Wow, Scar, I wish I’d met you at that age – he nudged her arm and they giggled – I wouldn’t have lost time suffering for Tony Wilcox – he glanced at Louis and Therese – he was my crush during my sophomore year. I did everything you can imagine to make him notice me, but I failed miserably.

               _Well, I don’t know who this guy is, but I’m sure he wouldn’t stand a chance against Scarlett – they laughed, and Scarlett rolled her eyes.

               _Oh, dad, always with this fawning…

               _Let your dad, sweetie, he’s right – Therese said while picked another photo – look, Zig, don’t you think she could be a top model? – Zig smiled at the picture and winked to Scarlett, who shook her head negatively, but grinned. During that pleasant afternoon, sometimes she watched her parents and Zig talking and laughing, and she smiled to herself. She was really glad to see them getting along and that her parents could see all the good things she said about her boyfriend.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics!

[blaineinblood]

Run and Hide || Klaine

It had been centuries since Blaine had been anywhere near Ohio. It wasn’t because he had bad memories of the place, nor was it because something was keeping him away. It was because it was Ohio, and why the fuck would he bother being in Ohio? It wasn’t that it possessed a lavish culture that he thought he might enjoy, or that the people were at all going to change his opinions on the human race as a species, so there was no reason for him to stop…

But for whatever reason while he was traveling, on foot, from Calgary Canada, he came to a holt as he approached a sign, stopping inches in front of it as he stared at the words. Blaine’s head tilted slightly, the words “Welcome to the Lima Community” on a large stone plaque looked him back in the face, almost taunting him, before he glanced up toward the sky. It was nearly sunrise, and not that it mattered, he wouldn’t burst into flames or anything stupid like that, but any mild annoyance for Blaine meant problems for anyone around him. With a clenched fist, Blaine punched through the stone sign, feeling nothing except the dull irritation that stuck with him throughout the days before he ventured into the city.

~

He’d been here for a few months now, and to say he thought highly of the city now than he did when he arrived would be a lie. The constant cloud coverage meant that day, or night, Blaine could wander around without any sort of negative repercussions if he so desired, but more so, the excessive stupidity and excessive drinking that some of the residences in this fine city seemed to partake in, meant that with each feed Blaine was not only drunk from the blood, but also just plain ol’ drunk. 

The only problem was there was no hunt. They fell into his lap easily. 

Which meant that Blaine had to get creative.

Human life meant little to Blaine, other than the fact that if he killed everyone he’d have nothing to eat. That thought alone was probably the only reason, to date, that Blaine didn’t just instantly wipe out entire towns. He didn’t, for a second, doubt that he couldn’t do it. He never doubted what he was capable of. But, he knew eventually someone would come for him, and he didn’t care. 

He wanted them to.

Death would finally take him and he’d be free from this nightmare.

Though, as much as Blaine wanted it to end, the pain and suffering that clawed away at his insides, that tore every shred of his humanity and turned him into this, he refused for it to not be on his own terms. The survivor inside of him would always switch on at the last second, and he’d end up completely unharmed. However, which each of these encounters he would lose more and more of himself, and considering he’d never “had” himself to begin with, he fell deeper and deeper into nothingness. All that was left inside of Blaine was a body, a curse, and anger. He searched for things that would please him, blood worked for a few hours, but it was generally short lived. Music worked sometimes, but even that lately seemed so irrelevant. So when the hunters started to zone in on him, Blaine tried to find the enjoyment in that. Hunting the Hunters was a game that he was going to play.

... and he was going to play it well. 

At first, Blaine sent a clear message to them to back off by feeding from them, and sending them away, still alive, to tell their friends to leave him alone.

He wasn’t sure if it was pride, or if they were truly stupid, but they came back, with more people. Like lambs to the slaughter Blaine took them out one by one, leaving one to once again, tell his friends to back off.

But they came back… with more people.

By the third time, and any time that followed, Blaine started to get creative. Severed heads on doorsteps, bodies stacked up on flag poles like a kebab, watching as the hunters, and police tried to cover it up quickly before anyone noticed. Nothing was too small, or too big, when it came to Blaine.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed killing people.

… Okay, he did enjoy killing people, but it wasn’t that it had to be like this. People just needed to leave him alone. Leave him to feed in peace. No one needed to die if he was left alone.

He was old, irritated, and didn’t want company. The only company he wanted was for either food, or sex, sometimes both at the same time if he was in the mood.

However, the more that the Hunters came after him, the more he made it his mission to fuck with every single one of them, holding their lives in his hand if he decided they should live or die. He’d yet to offer anyone the “live” option, though occasionally he’d be sloppy or someones will to fight was stronger than he had been expecting, and while he left them to bleed out, they’d somehow survive.

Those ones Blaine kept a special eye on.

Blaine would often make a game out of it, leaving trails, and little clues, that would lure hunters in, and while they thought they were being the grand hero, trying to save the poor damsel in distress whom he would have gagged and would be sitting idle on a chair, almost as though Blaine had left her unattended, a perfect opportunity for them to recuse the person, the real victim would be the hunter.

When it came to his victims, Blaine rarely went after women. It wasn’t because he felt bad about it, or because he was gay and therefore wouldn’t feed on a woman, it was because if he did they always fit a certain mould, unless they were a hunter, of course. Small frame, long dark wavy hair, light brown eyes… anything that reminded him of his sire would result in an almost instant death.

Blaine knew he wasn’t the only vampire in town, and here were often times he would watch a hunter take out one of his own. He felt no need to “defend his own kind” nor get involved. If anything, it was live action TV. It offered little entertainment, but anything was better than nothing. He did find it ironic that of all the places he decided to stop on his travels that it would be the town with a thriving hunter community. 

Blaine did try to interact with a few vampires when he would cross their paths, in the beginning he did make an effort, but since he wasn’t interested in the whole “join our coven” type of ordeal, he tended to stay away from it.

Plus, young vampires irritated the fuck out of him more than the humans did.

Even though Blaine tended to keep to the shadows and his attacks were always done elsewhere, the excessive amount of abandoned warehouses or buildings made for good stomping grounds, he did have a home inside of the city limits. He had bought it with the help of compulsion. As far as the residence of Lima knew, some private, “Celebrity type” person had moved in, that was guarded by a security gate, manned 24/7 by a security guard. The building was fenced off with not only high fences, but spiked, and the house sat at the end of a long winding drive way. No one was likely to step foot onto the premise without Blaine knowing.

And that’s the way he was going to keep it. He may value nothing, but he did still enjoy being surrounded by nice things.

~

Blaine walked around his home, running his fingers along anything in his path before he glanced out the window. It had gotten dark early, and the sounds of the city were already starting to flood his ears. Blaine got dressed quickly before he took off on foot, his body almost instantly moving toward one of the local strip joints. The men who walked out of there were generally drunk, generally larger, and generally were the ones who screamed and cried, their fear making the blood so much sweeter, and the hunt being that much more rewarding.

Thankfully, Blaine didn’t have to wait long as his victim walked out. Blaine untucked his shirt, lowered his tie a little and shook his hair a little to break it out from the gel.  He had been dressed in a relatively nice ensemble, but that was part of his act.

“Hey! Hi! Sorry, sir, can you help me?” Blaine said innocently, waving his hand around. “I got a flat tire and I don’t know how to fix it, and my cell died” he said, sounding exhausted. He waved his hand while he spoke, his tone was slightly flamboyant, enough for some of the pigs in the city to refer to him as “Fag” before he killed them.

The man laughed, they always laugh, before he shook his head “You don’t even know how to change a tire?” he slurred a little “Where’s your car, kid?”

“My dad never taught me” Blaine said, a little over the top, pointing backwards for the man to follow him “It’s just around the corner. Thank you so much for helping though”

“See that’s the problem with some of these blokes” the guy said, with a small huff “they don’t teach you how to be men and then wonder why everyone is turning out to be a fag” he grunted as he walked.

Blaine’s fangs threatened to pop out then and there, his fist clenching as his neck craned a little, but he kept it together… this would now be more enjoyable.

As Blaine turned down the alley, the guy seemed a little hesitant to follow “I don’t see a car” he craned his neck a little “You’re not like trying to get me down here to try something? I mean I’ve got a massive cock and I bet your fag ass wants it, but I’m not into that. ”

Usually Blaine could hold off, but tonight, not so much.

“I really wish you were into it though” Blaine smirked as he charged forward, his mouth instantly latching to the man’s neck, before he started to drag him backwards while he fed, spilling blood along the way, the man kicking his legs out that one of his shoe fell off, his arms swinging violently until Blaine had successfully gotten inside the building. He threw the man’s body across the floor, watching how it slid, almost gracefully, before Blaine charged forward again, this time straddling the man’s large chest “Maybe you should be nicer to people! Bad things happen to bad people” Blaine laughed as looked down at the man’s face “And to think, I would have let you suck my cock and I may have called you daddy. You know, homophobes think about sucking cock more than I do. Isn’t that funny?” Blaine smiled again, letting the man not only see his fangs, but to watch a small amount of blood that he hadn’t quite swallowed yet dribble down his chin “Oh well! Too bad, so sad!” Blaine laughed as he started to bite down again, moaning a little as the blood filled his mouth, his tongue lapping it up quickly, only stopping a few moments before his heart stopped.

Blaine stood up, glancing over the body before he started to straighten out his tie, looking down at his clothes before he noticed the pocket on his shirt had gotten ripped in the process “Man, you ripped my shirt” Blaine kicked the body a little before using his finger to push a bit more of the blood into his mouth “But god did you taste good” Blaine laughed as he stepped a little deeper into the building he’d walked into, finding somewhere to sit quietly, his eyes closing a little as he started to ride out his buzz.

[thewhiterabbit42]

Full Circle: Part 5

Full Circle Masterlist

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Warnings/Tags: Winchester sister!reader, angst, sarcasm, and a whole lot of ways to call someone a dick (among other things), violence  

Word Count: 7,826

Summary:  Gabriel isn’t the only thing from the past being brought back to life, and, once again, you find yourself smack dab in the middle of everything.  

Author’s note: This chapter is tied with The Best Laid Plans as the favorite thing I’ve ever written.  I had so much fun when I originally wrote it and, at the time, really got into the mind set. I actually didn’t end up changing much except for adding more names for Gabe to call Raphael, the conversations around which have made this chapter that much more precious to me.  

All tags are at the end.  If you have a line through your name, the tumblr Gods won’t let me tag you.

Special thanks to @sumara62, my wonderful beta who made it through 15 pages of dick references before being like, “Really?” and @blondecoffeecake for helping add to my repertoire of dick.  You guys are the best.

***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my written permission.  Giving credit does NOT count.  Reblogging is ok.***

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If Gabriel’s life were an autobiography, it would be called The Reason We Can't Have Nice Things: A Study in Daddy Issues or Why I Hope I’m Adopted.  Because right now?  There wasn't a single one of his family members he wasn't considering shanking, his father most of all.  

Great.  Fine.  Wonderful.  The man had brought him back.  Gabriel would be sure to send Him an edible fruit arrangement the next time He was in town.  Laced with the plague and made entirely of zombie fruit aka durian (aka what had his father been smoking when he decided anything consumable should naturally smell like rotting flesh?).

Why was Gabriel displeased one might ask?

It might have had something to do with being turned into shish kebab so his brothers could compare dick sizes. (If anything he should be the winner in that department since he was the only one with the cojones to stand up to them).

It might have had something to do with his father being unable to do anything other than stand around, dick in hand, while shit went sideways because He was, in fact, just standing around, dick in hand.  

Maybe it was because the only being who gave a damn about Gabriel was a mother loving human who should hate his very existence after what he did to you and your brothers.  (The father loather in both of you, however, had created quite the bonding experience).  

Or maybe, just maybe, he couldn’t help but suspect there was some underlying motive to his sudden and fortuitous resurrection… like the fact that the heaven bus was on fire again and a fair number of his divine family was ready to drive it into the side of the earth.  

Because it had worked out so well for the God squad the first time around.  

When he found the earth was not, in fact, one giant smoking battlefield or a rage infested zombie land, he was impressed.  He assumed your family had managed to put Lucifer back in time out, though he never would have guessed the how.  

He also never would have guessed who Luce would end up with for roommates. He had been impressed with the creativity until he caught the look on your face.  Heaviness clung to the darks of your eyes making them seem endless.  He knew how cleverness could be a burden and it was like staring at his own reflection, enduring loneliness included.  

He had initially hoped one of you had gotten a few good sac taps in on his behalf, but now he simply hoped you had for your own closure.  Preferably before his brother was wearing yours, but it wasn’t like the sasquatch was going to feel much other than suffocating in his own body.  

Gabriel made a mental note to avoid ever explaining that perk of being a vessel to you.  

Fact check: being a vessel was terrible for the first thousand days or so.  After that it just tickled.  

However, he did have a lot to explain.   

He knew he would end up here sooner or later.  Well, not here here.  He kind of understood his father having a blast from the past, considering the easiest way to pull his vessel to the present was to find the last place it had existed.  Being cockblocked and dropped right where Lucifer iced him, however, was an extra special touch of douchiness, and there was only one being left with that much power (and that much douche).

What he didn’t know is that you would end up here with him and that was what had him close to popping a vessel (literally and figuratively speaking).  It hadn’t been his choice to be resurrected in the middle of a shitstorm, but he had been the one to drag you into it.  All because he had been impulsive, reckless, and unable to look past his own selfish desires.  

There went his argument for being adopted.  

He should have stayed away from you.  Then again, if it was a cosmic coincidence you both showed up at the same place at the same time, he’d put himself in the cage with Lucifer, Michael, and the youngest Winchester and dance the lambada with all them.  The only reason he’d come back to this funhouse of memories was to seal off the doors and windows just in case the rip in the time space continuum was a little more wormy and less like the snapshot he’d initially assessed.  

The moment he spotted you, he should have just walked away.  He could have.  It wasn’t your grief that undid him.

Fact check: seeing your world bend beneath that weight did, however, do things to him he’d rather not think about.

He had only seen you this distraught on one other occasion.  Famine had sunk its influence so deep inside you there was nothing other than a blinding need.  For what, Gabriel had never found out. The urgency in your prayer (along with the fact it was just his name over and over again) suggested he might want to get his winged ass down there pronto.  When he arrived, you’d been so consumed he’d had to put you to sleep before seeing your pain began to consume him.    

Pain, though, was a timeless constant he could rationalize.  So long as there was life, there would be suffering.  What chance did he stand, however, against your guilt?   It pushed against the indifference he had tried to maintain, unknowingly slipping within his walls undetected, until it touched against his own guarded feelings of responsibility.  

Even then, Gabriel could have patched you up (emotionally), saw you out to your car, and went on to enjoy his limited existence at his own personal, completely conjured bunny ranch equipped with endless supplies of chocolate, whip cream, and other sensual sweets… along with eight different versions of what he called not yous.  Those were women who had enough of your features for him to pretend, but not actual carbon copies.

Having no shame and being a super creep were definitely two different things.  

Not to mention how creepy they were when he couldn’t get the personality traits down enough to not make a copy seem straight out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers… not that he’d ever tried or anything.

Fact check: Gabriel had tried once.  For science.

However any illusion of leaving had been shattered in one simple statement.  

Have that drink with me, Sheriff, and I will be.

Green had inked in around his vision and he didn’t have to read your thoughts to know what your plans were.  The two of you were kindred spirits, your personalities sharing several different aspects. The main one was you liked pleasure in many forms and you weren’t ashamed to take it.  Whether it was ordering every pie in the diner when caught in the time loop (and then watching Dean’s stomach explode when you made a pie eating contest out of it) or distracting yourself by seducing the local sheriff, you used your senses to feel good in the moment.  

This moment, however, was wrong.  You sought distraction in his absence, only he was standing right there, so close he had accidentally touched you when you stumbled back a bit (though he was still trying to figure out how that fluke had occurred considering he was pretty sure the only thing close enough had been his wing).

Fact check: the left one did tend to get a little handsy.  

But that was besides the point.  You were looking to get lost in a man from a generation whose idea of a good time was a cup of tea, an episode of Matlock, and a nap.  

Despite the sheriff being apprehensive, Gabriel saw the flash of loneliness that pushed through the man’s gaze.  It wouldn’t take much to get him to cave.  Even if he put up a good fight, you were young, pretty, and way too smart for your own good.  He wouldn’t stand a chance.

Neither did Gabriel when he began to imagine all the things the man would do to you, all the things you would let the sheriff do, and it would all be on his conscience, because it was technically his fault you went on grieving.  

At least, that’s what he told himself.  Admitting the first thing on his mind since getting a reboot was to make you his in every way he’d failed to before was a tad more insightful than he cared to be.  The whole thing was enough to drive him to drink.

Fact check: while there was no driving, there was a whole lot of drink.  The part about making the sheriff run circles and question his own sanity was just an added bonus.  

He needed something to calm the clamor in his head, except it had just made him sloppy if he had missed his brother’s presence slipping into town.  Regret and guilt weighed heavy on gold as he took in the mounting dread on your features.  His weakness had brought you here, and it was up to him to see it did not take you down with him.  

He wanted to tell you as much, but whether it was his own streak of daddy issues or the fact that even the most meaningful relationship he’d managed had ended with a good old-fashioned stabbing (thanks, Kali, always knew you were kind of a bitch), his words fell short as they tended to in these situations.  

Touch, however, was something he managed to do well.  Tips up knuckles drank in the skin along the side of your face, savoring the feel one last time.  He channeled what reassurance he could into the gesture, hoping to calm the panic he felt buzzing through you so you would hear him when he told you to run.  The command, however, became lost as his brother made his grand entrance, confirming he did, in fact, have the worst timing in the universe.  

“Gabriel,” a deep voice boomed over the lingering echoes of thunder as the the silhouette of a man manifested in the center of fading light.  

“Raphael,” Gabriel drawled, looking up at his brother.  “This is an awkward surprise.”  

“Someone’s clearly never heard of knocking,” you muttered, and he felt your relief in a momentary release of tension before everything tightened again.  You slid off his lap, and the absence of your body rang cold as the sudden chill in the room rushed in to take the place of your warmth.  He could see the gears in your mind turning, gaze appraising as you took in his brother’s stoic features.  

Gabriel stepped forward, subtly placing himself between you and the entity who should henceforth be known as the giant dick for being the the biggest cockblock in creation.

“I am disappointed, brother,” The meter-long man-dong said, eyes flicking to Gabriel in obvious dismissal of your presence.   “You must have heard what is happening.”

Oh, Gabriel had heard all right.  Angel radio was a complete cluster these days.  The last time it had been this chaotic was when he’d tricked Michael and Biggus Dickus into believing there was a demon incursion about to launch on heaven led by rogue angels… because was inciting the Crusades as a test of faith (and act of boredom) really necessary?

“Let me guess.  Thing’s not going so well for you, bro?” A glimmer of a sardonic grin flashed across his casual mask, tone pushing the fringe of disdain as he arched a brow.  

“No.  But you already knew that, and yet your first inclination is to dally with this human.”  

Apparently Gabriel wasn't the only one unimpressed with the situation.

“I get we’re a little behind the times right now, but what year are you stuck in?  1905?” He taunted.  

“Watch your tone,” Cock McBlockins warned and Gabriel nearly rolled his eyes.  He wondered if his father had meant to make all three of his brothers into prideful pricks with their own mini god complexes or if they had just naturally become those without anyone to challenge their authority.      

“Or what, you’ll shiv me too?” He demanded.  It wasn’t like he was bitter or anything, being put in this position again.  

Fact check: he was plenty bitter and uber pissed.

If anyone asked, however, the official story was he just didn’t think Raphael had it in him to be such an ass about it.  

“The only reason she continues drawing breath is because I will it,” the monstrous manpole informed him.  The older archangel’s wings flared slightly in warning, his presence pushing against Gabriel’s as it wrestled for dominance within the room.  The youngest pushed back, his own pride unwilling to back down so easily.  To do so would be to show weakness, and his weakness had put you in enough danger already today.  

Tips of fingers touched against his lower back, acting as pinpoints of pressure and shifting his focus back to you.  If he had to guess, instinct spurred your touch, and perhaps the need for reassurance.  There’s no way you could have perceived the pissing contest currently happening, but enough of something skittered across your radar to tip you off to the danger.

Or perhaps you were telling him to quit dicking around already and figure out an escape plan.

“What do you want?” Gabriel asked, backing down.  The degenerate disco stick eyed him as if it were a trick a moment before that dark, baleful gaze slipped over his shoulder and landed on you.  

“What is she to you?” Dickus Maximus demanded.

“I mean I was trying to have a bit of fun but somebody crashed that party,” he gave a dramatic look skyward as if asking if even his father could believe the nerve.  “But really, what are any of them to us in the long run?”

“An incessant nuisance,” the dickasaurus rex said flatly.

“I was thinking more like a beautiful distraction,” Gabriel replied smoothly though it felt like he had a mouth full of sand. “But just a distraction, nonetheless… no offense sweetheart.”  He turned, giving you a flashy-and completely false- apologetic smile for good measure.  

He didn’t mean it.  He might not be ready to admit you were more than a passing obsession, but on a visceral level he was hooked, his stomach suddenly a gymnastics Olympian as it somersaulted its way through a sudden bout of ire-tipped nerves.  

If the USS Douche Canoe ruined this for him, everybody’s ship was going down, starting with the dickhead in front of him and heading straight to the top, where all the bullshit started.  

“No offense, sweetheart, but I’m not looking to date a giant dick anytime soon,” sarcasm painted your words, streaking across lips in a smile you flashed that was just as insincere.  

Gabriel took it as a good sign you hadn’t missed a beat with your response.  Mostly because that was one less thing to worry about while he figured out how to get you out of there.  There’d be plenty of time for doubt later if he survived.  In fact, it was one of his favorite pastimes.

Fact check: it was nobody’s favorite pastime.

“Well, aren’t we just two peas in a pod,” he drawled, brows raising as he dropped his hands to his hips.  “Humans, I tell you.  Just when you think you’re the one using them, they’re actually using you.”

“I’ve asked myself many times what would I do should you choose deceit over honest discourse,” The dick with a dictionary began, his gaze drifting back to Gabriel’s.  “I think I have my answer.”  

The look in his eyes remained neutral, pushing beyond the fringes of weary into outright exhaustion, but it was that telltale half lift of lips, smirking smugly, that gave away the game plan.  Unfortunately, that plan looked to be you.  

With a snap, you disappeared from out of the side of Gabriel’s vision only to reappear in front of the increasingly annoying third wheel to the party.  The contrast of the dark fingers wrapped around your pale throat was startling.  Or, it could just be the fact his brother was definitely gripping that part of you quite snugly in warning.

“What weaknesses lay beneath, I wonder…” the wondrous one-eyed yogurt slinger mused, thumb dragging slowly across the surface of your throat.  The movement was callous, insinuating no more than the danger you were in.  Defiance darkened your eyes, your lips pulling back in silent snarl as if he’d touched you in a far different manner and it caught Gabriel off guard.

He looked more closely, peeling back the layers of atoms and energy until gossamer strands of grace glistened ethereal in the dim lighting.  You were surrounded by it, wisps of it ghosting over your upper body as if seeking some sort of entrance.  Anger crackled hot beneath his skin, causing his energy to spark slightly between the tips of his fingers.  

How dare Raphael touch you that way.

He had no right to touch you with his grace.  He had no business inside your mind, though by how he was concentrating on the area between your shoulders and waist he was after something much more integral.  

Why he’d want a peek at your soul was beyond Gabriel, but it was a whole lot of nothing good for you.  

“Stop,” He warned, clenching down hard and doing his best to reign in his temper.  He was aware that this might not be anything other than a test (which he was clearly failing).  If his brother was prodding for sore spots, boy had he found one, especially when Gabriel watched as the older archangel pushed his energy beneath your skin in a wholly ungentle way.

There was no stopping his fury as your features grew taut with pain, your torment pushing out your throat in a sudden cry as light emanated out from where the grace had entered. The ground beneath his feet began to tremble, tables and chairs beginning to clatter as they bounced around, skittering slowly across the floor.  

“I said stop,” he repeated, the rumble growing louder as the entire building began to sway.  Windows shattered around the room and Raphael was lucky he didn’t find himself on the receiving end of an incredibly angry smite.  His brother exhaled a long, heavy sigh through his nose, withdrawing all his energy in a single instant and letting you drop to the floor.  

“Who is she to you?”  Disappointment wove through the gigantic pork sword’s words and Gabriel held back a snort.  Like the asshat had any right to ask anything about you anymore.  

“None of your business,” Gabriel hissed.

It was the wrong answer.  

Apparently a good old fashioned ass kicking was next on the list, your body catching some serious air before it came slamming down on the top of the tables.  Wood snapped beneath the force and you continued to roll across the floor a few feet from the impact.  

Gabriel reached out with his grace, searching for the familiar, chaotic buzz that was often your mind.  It was a much dimmer, snarling mass of tangled thoughts at the moment.  Stay down he told you, hoping you were conscious enough to hear him.  

You were and, as usual, you were intent on doing just the opposite of what you should be.  You pushed yourself up, eyes flashing with determination as you appraised the situation.  Keep him occupied you prayed, silently pulling yourself to your feet before slowly edging your way toward the back exit.  

Good.  Maybe you could sneak out while he and his brother got down to business.

“Would you like to gamble on what strike three means for her?”

“All right, all right,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.  “No need to pull a Lucifer and break everyone else’s toys when you don’t get your way.  Besides, we all know what happens when you start throwing temper tantrums with the Winchesters around.  Well, Michael does, anyway.”

He smiled widely, enjoying the way his remarks were beginning to get under Coitis Interruptis’ skin.

“But if you simply must know… she was the only one that gave two shits about me when everyone was trying to make me choose sides.  It wasn’t about tradition or the greater good.  It was about me.  She believed in me to make the right decision because I was good enough,” he began, past pushing against present as a familiar slow burning anger flared back to life.  

“So no.  She’s not a distraction.  She’s a friend.  A good one, and she’s a good person who doesn’t deserve to be caught up in our bullshit again.  So I’m asking you, as your brother, to leave her out of this.”

Three things became apparent as Gabriel stopped his rambling.  

First, this was probably the most genuine interaction he’d had with cocksmiter number three since his father had left.

Second, because it was sincere, it didn’t even register on his brother’s bullshit detector which, in turn, sent it flying off the charts by the look he received.  

Third, and most important, you had stopped.  You were now just standing.  In the middle of the room.  Staring.  Mouth parted slightly when really you needed to be moving - why the hell weren’t you still moving?

Gold snapped up to your gaze, flicking toward the door insistently.  Keep going he urged when you simply looked conflicted.  You hesitated another moment before continuing on.

Humans.

“I mean I know it’s a novel idea, but why don’t we try keeping the crazefest in the family, just this once?”  He continued, aware of his brother’s unwavering stare.  He was also aware of how close you were to the back door.  Your hand reached for the handle, movements silent as you gave a push… only for nothing to happen.  

Someone clearly had some control issues to work on.  

“I will never understand your loyalty to these creatures,” the disdain dripping from the colossal cockmuffin’s words was palpable.  “They are weak and flawed.”

“What did you say?” Gabriel demanded, eyes narrowing.  Lucifer had said those very words… how had his brother known?

“Despite our differences, Gabriel, I came here to talk,” the humongous spawn hammer implored.  “The rebel has gathered a surprising amount of support, though it is only a matter of time before he is defeated.”

“Well, sounds like you have it all figured out.  Best of luck to you,” he said, taking a few steps back toward the front entrance.  If he wasn't going to let you go, Gabriel could at least try and move the party.  Thunder echoed overhead and the room suddenly leapt to life with a gathering energy just before a bolt of lightning pierced the ceiling.  It struck right behind Gabriel’s back, stopping him in his tracks and scorching the floor.  

Apparently he wasn't the only one with a penchant for theatrics.  

“You’re either with me or against me.”  

Gabriel had been wrong.  His brother wasn't a giant dick.  He was a whole bag of them.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Gabriel jeered, taking a step forward.  “So, how do you want to do this?  Should I just whip mine out?  Do we compare sizes first?”  

A familiar smell drifted under his nose, carrying hints of metal and life in its purest form.  He glanced up to find you with your back against the door, hand obscured behind you and he had a fairly good idea what you were doing.  The problem was if he did, then so did the massive heat-seeking moisture missile.

If you both lived through this, he and you were going to have a long, snarky chat about the limitations of humans, and the nearly limitless power of archangels and why the former didn't need to worry about saving the latter.  

“Blood carries a very distinct smell,” Skippy McSexkiller announced, turning your way, dark eyes blazing bright against the insolence you were hastily painting across the door.  “Yours especially.”  

“It’s a wonder you’re not a hit with the ladies,” Gabriel taunted, trying to draw his attention.  It didn’t work.  “Hey, Raphie, can I call you Raphie?” That did the trick; the archangel paused momentarily, giving him a baleful look.  

“I tire of your games, brother, and theirs.”  Boy, did his brother look tired.  Not just the soul weary I’ve-been-alive-since-the-dawn-of-time exhaustion that timeless beings tended to get from time to time.  This was a whole other ballgame.  

Gabriel, tell me how to do this without hurting you.  

Apprehension filled your prayer as it floated to the forefront of his consciousness, and from the corner of his eyes he could see you were almost done.  He found it awfully touching you didn’t want to blast his hide when he knew that if your brothers were there, he’d have been rocketed halfway to Texas by now.  

Unfortunately, Scrote-totes MaGoo continued to designate the hotel as a no fly zone, leaving you both without a lot of options.

At least it would only hurt for a moment.  

Fact check: it was only for a moment, but it also was a whole lot of hurt.

Catch you on the flip side, sweetheart.

“Human idioms,” the gigantic tube steak sighed and the easygoing mask Gabriel kept in place began to slip.  “I’ll never understand your preference for them.  Or why you’d think me fool enough to fall for your little trap.”

Panic sparked in Gabriel’s chest, skating across the thickening tension in the air before slamming into your system.  You frantically finished the last symbol on the ward before bringing your hand down in the center.  He braced himself, only the blast never came.  He looked over to see the sigil had vanished.  

Oh sweet bearded man with bad teeth but good religious messages.  This was happening.  His brother was looking at you like he was going to split every atom in your body no matter what his younger brother wanted and last Gabriel checked, that was not on his agenda.  

“Hey douchebag,” he called out, pulling his blade from out of his jacket.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

The other archangel didn’t even bat an eye.  He didn’t even give his younger sibling a courtesy snap.  The only reason Gabriel felt the smite coming was because the air always tasted like it was burning the moment before it hit.  

A bright, blinding light poured down through the ceiling.  Every hair stood on edge, stretching upward toward the concentration of energy before everything suddenly released and the blast had his brains pushing down through his nostrils.  

Fact check: Gabriel’s brain was not actually being forced out his nose, but it certainly felt like it.

The extreme downward pressure, however, was enough to immobilize his mind and force him down to his knees.

Apparently his brother was done dicking around.  

“Was the pain you suffered earlier not tangible enough?” Raphael’s voice managed to push through the mental haze.  “Perhaps you need a reminder of your own past.”  

Gabriel’s eyes fluttered open, details around him fuzzy as he struggled to bring the world back into focus.  

Your pain made for a great motivator.  

He heard your cry go up and the visceral response that tore through him was enough to help him gather his wits.  Your anguish was tangible even from across the room, tiny cuts and enlarged gashes singing in a discord of physical suffering that clashed with the previous chorus that rang from the very essence in your soul crying out.

He looked over to see you on your knees, red painting your torment in grisly splashes through your clothing.  There were streaks across your legs, your right thigh practically saturated.  It was harder to tell what was behind your sweater, but by the sheer smell of iron drifting across the room, there was a fair amount that had yet to show through.  You cradled your left arm closer to your body, droplets trickling out from beneath the cuff of your coat, sliding steadily off tips of fingers with a steady pat, pat, pat.   

“Is that why you brought me here?” Gabriel demanded, trying get the giant phallus turned back in his direction.  “Because you want to remind me what happens if I choose the right side?”

Pat, pat, pat.  

“There’s a certain symmetry.  Beginning where you ended.  Ending where you began,  should it come to that.”

Pat, pat, pat.

He should have seen it sooner.  After helping lock Auntie Amara away, the mammoth meat constrictor had been all about balance, about the universe having some sort of grand plan and synergy to it.  After their father left, however, things began to become a little less about cosmic harmony and a little more obsessive-compulsive.  

Pat, pat, pat.

“From where I’m standing?  More like a certain douchiness,” he turned, spitting out a mouthful of red from the blood that trickled down the back of his throat.  

“Enough!”  Raphael roared.  “I will not stand here and listen to your drivel while our home is under attack.”

Pat, pat, pat.  

Your heart began to slow, the change in pace nearly imperceptible at first.  For every beat you lost, his seemed to pick it up.  You were bleeding out and while you had a little time, you were going to be drier than a fruitcake in February if he couldn’t get to you soon.  

Good thing he had a trick or two up his sleeve.  

“Heaven is burning, brother.  Michael is locked away no different than Lucifer.  Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It might if that was what this was really about, but we both know that’s not the case,” Gabriel said, slowly pulling himself to his feet.  

“Paradise was within our grasp... until you betrayed us to the Winchesters and told them how to put Lucifer back.”  

Fact check: the only betrayal being served was by Lucifer, who couldn’t help but turn everything into an ice cold fuckery of a dish.  

“Then kill me,” he said, tossing his blade aside.  Rather, his shadow twin did.  He wasn’t that stupid… and you were beginning to look awfully pale.  He appeared in front of you, crouching down until he was eye level with you.  You hadn’t moved.  He wasn’t sure you were able to by the number of wounds you had.  

“I’d rather have you by my side,” his brother continued from across the room.  He was vaguely aware his double had given one of the many pre-selected responses from his repertoire.  Besides the fact it made things easier, he’d rather be focusing on you anyway.  His hands tended to get a little less smitey when he did.    

He had to be careful, though.  If he released too much energy, Frodo Douchbaggins would be on him like nazgul on the one ring.  He idly wondered if that made him Aragorn in this situation.  Probably Eowyn.  She did have the most fabulous hair out of all of them.  

Fact check: Gabriel did have pretty fabulous hair.  

Your eyes met his with something too shrouded for him to read.  The pain was too prevalent and he wondered how much you were even able to think beyond it.  Your lips parted as if to speak, and he held a finger up for you to be quiet before his gaze dropped down to the pool of blood on the floor.  

This mess was as much his fault as the titanic flesh rod’s, and when this was all said and done,

Gabriel was going to go full Lorena Bobbitt and remove him from existence.

“This is your chance, Gabriel, to make up for your past indiscretions…”

The only thing he needed to make amends for was sitting right in front of him.  The longer things dragged out, however, the less likely he’d get the chance.  

Fact check:  the chances one of you were getting fucked tonight were looking pretty good.  

Bonus fact check: it wouldn’t nearly be as fun as either of you had planned.

Fingers drifted along the swollen contour of your cheek, tenderly stroking away the puffiness as he released his energy. He didn’t need to physically touch you in order to heal, but what did he have to lose anymore?  

Your gaze drifted sideways, widening slightly in surprise and doubt slipped in through the cracks in his armor.  Perhaps he’d been mistaken.  Perhaps things were more one sided than he realized.  Perhaps you had been the one with too much drink tonight.  

He tried to focus on his brother droning on in the background, clamping down on his rising disappointment.  Wank, wank, atonement.  Wank, wank, duty.  It was the same hackneyed setup where humanity became the punchline.  

His family really needed to add some new jokes to their lineup.

You released a slow breath and his attention shifted back to you as you tried to move.  The hand you raised was shaky, slowed by the damage he was still trying to undo.  It was obvious you were struggling to even raise it this far, but it was far enough.  Tips of fingers slipped beneath his coat, tentatively tracing along the partially undone line of buttons at the top of his shirt before settling your palm against his chest.  

Your eyes settled in the same spot, narrowing intently.  He’d seen you enough times to know it was the look you wore when ferreting out an answer in the middle of a clusterfuck of information.  What you were seeking and what you found, were simply beyond him in that moment.  You did find something, however, and it wasn’t the slow growing heaviness of finality Gabriel overtaking over him.  

Despite the snarling mass of emotions he felt within you, your eyes began to brighten, shaking off some of their former weight.  The intensity made him take a closer look.  A slow burning ire had sparked somewhere along the way, determination causing the edges of your gaze to grow hard, keeping the flames contained.  Your anger wasn’t surprising, but the fear that seemed to be fueling it was.  

He wanted to reassure you that things would be fine, but what would be the point of lying?  Besides, you’d just find something to break on him if he did.  Though he imagined with the way things were going there might not be anything left to break by the end of the night.

Your brows drew together suddenly, a frown tugging at your lips.  For a moment he thought Raphael might have caught on, but he could hear the prick yammering on while his shadow tossed well placed barbs and used misdirection to keep the conversation going.

Your eyes also never left Gabe’s, making the source of your displeasure rather clear.  Or rather unclear, considering he hadn’t a clue what he could have done considering he hadn’t had the chance to open his mouth yet.  

Then again, he had dragged you into this mess.  Perhaps you were finally getting on the same page as the rest of the world in realizing what a giant fuck up he was.

Your hand clenched around his shirt and while he was surprised at how quickly your strength had returned, he was completely thrown for a loop when you yanked him forward, lips demanding as they moved over his.  Passion won out over resignation as energy spiked down from your mouth straight into his chest, sparking outward back into your hand and continuing the loop.  

Apparently, you were of the mind set that neither one of you had died yet.  

You kept things brief because, unlike previous assumptions, you understood the importance of not dallying.  When he looked at you again, the fear had melted away to promise - so much promise for so many, many things burned wickedly in your gaze.  

If that wasn’t motivation to survive this disaster of a night, then he deserved to be put out of his misery.  

Fact check: he most certainly was not dead already from the waist down.

Show time he decided, giving you a reassuring smirk before taking the place of his double once again.  Not that he had a clue what to do still, but he did have a little hope, thanks to you.  

“Let’s stop beating around the bush, hmmm?” Gabriel suggested.  “I know what you’re really up to.  This isn’t about heaven.  This isn’t about family or atonement.  This is about you just wanting it to be done.  No matter the cost.”

“Yes,” his enormous deep-V-diver of a brother admitted.  “I am tired, brother.  So very tired and I know that you are, too.  This is our chance to go back to our real home.  If my cold heart still yearns for it, I know yours must as well.”

Ancient sentiments almost forgotten stirred deep beneath the surface and Gabriel’s confidence slipped.  If how he looked on the surface mirrored what was going on internally, he would have been running around the room, flailing wildly as he attempted to outrun an imaginary wildfire.  

These were not things he wanted to feel again.  Not tonight.  Not with Raphael.  Not ever.  

Fact check: he would rather douse himself with holy fire and do the hellfire rumba than go down that road again.

Keep him distracted.  

Your prayer rang out as a lifeline, drawing him back from uncertain waters before he became lost in the riptide.  He didn’t dare check to see what you were up to with how intently his brother’s stare was fixed upon him.

“Humans have a word for that you know,” he said, pity unknowingly softening his demeanor.  

The Herculean skin flute gave a heavy sigh, weariness returning and casting shadows on his face far darker than before.  “I am aware of it, and I suppose you’re right.  We cannot go back.  But we can still end this miserable existence for everyone.”  

Every time it seemed like they were about to have a moment, twizzletits had to go and open that big mouth of his.

Gabriel sincerely hoped this wasn’t how everyone felt about him.

Fact check: it kind of was.

I’m going to tell you the same thing I told that big bro of ours,” Gabriel announced.  “I love you, Raphael, you are my brother, but you are a great big bag of dicks.”  He gave a dramatic pause, watching as fury erupted from his brother’s gaze.  

“Actually, I lied.  You’re an even bigger one for trivializing all the sacrifices made to stop this madness, mine included, by starting it all over again.  What is it with all of you throwing a tantrum if you don’t get your way? For father’s sake, grow a pair! Sac up and move on! The world isn’t as terrible if you’d give it a chance to show you its beauty.”

“This world is no longer beautiful.  It is full of ugliness, disappointment, flawed intentions, but most of all, it is filled with suffering.  If you love them so much, would you not want their pain to end?”

Gabriel almost winced.  The more he listened, the less he was certain his brother was, in fact, a bag of dicks.  If anything, it sounded like the archangel needed to go out, drink a liquor store, get laid, then go on a world tour and take in the sights.  He knew serving under Michael was no picnic, but he never imagined it would actually suck the soul out of someone.    

“To live is to suffer,” Gabriel conceded, “But it’s also so much more than that.  Yes, they’re flawed.  They can be vicious and bloodthirsty, but how is that any different than us?  Why can’t any of you see how much good is also in them?  How much they try and more importantly forgive?”

Because forgiveness was not a staple at any of their Sunday dinners.

“I am tired of this life,” Raphael repeated, the lines suddenly evident across his vessel’s face.  “And so very tired of all these games.  I know where your heart truly lies.”

The part of Gabriel in question gave a stutter, past overlaying present in a terrifying way.  It wasn’t so much the echo of Lucifer’s words that disturbed him so much as the fact that you were there, right where he’d been, body crouched low as you slowly crept in for the kill.  

“I’m sorry.”  The older archangel meant it.  It didn’t make him any less of a fuck stick for what he was about to do.  

Fact check: Raphael was definitely a big ol’ bag of dicks.

Desperation forced Gabriel’s hand and he leapt forward.  Once again, his brother anticipated the move, deftly sidestepping the blade before grabbing him by the arm and throwing him into you.  You nearly filleted him by mistake, your weapon catching him across his shoulder as you scrambled to get it out of the way.  

So much for plan B.  

Gabriel felt the telltale gathering of energy over his head and he had just enough time to throw you back before heaven’s energy came barreling down upon him.  It didn't matter how old he got, he would never get used to the feeling of a smite.  Though that might have been his brother’s goal by how many were sent down upon him.  Wave after wave of energy crashed over him and he was certain this was it… until it suddenly wasn’t.    

By the time the world stopped spinning (and ringing… and twisting… and shouting…) Gabriel looked up to see his brother booting you across the floor like a soccer ball.  

“What will it take for you to realize how weak and unworthy they are?”  Raphael demanded, sending another burst down.  Something popped inside his skull, though it was likely just his brain falling in on itself.  There seemed to be enough of something leaking out his nose and down the back of his throat again.

There was another loud pop followed by more ringing in his ears, and for a minute he assumed he really had taken one too many smites to the head for his vessel to hold.  When the sound continued, he realized the noise wasn’t coming from inside him, but from across the room.  You had your gun drawn and trained on his brother as more shots peppered the silence, making the archangel’s vessel shake slightly with each bullet that pierced it.  

He’d said it before and he’d say it again: you had the most abysmal sense of self-preservation, even for a Winchester.  

Fact check: the above statement was completely true.  Though scrambled as Gabriel’s mind was, he had the wherewithal to realize what you were doing was solely to draw fire away from him.

He shook his head, pity pushing through the lingering pain.  How could his brother bear witness to this and still not be swayed?  

“From where I’m standing?  They’re more worthy than we are,” he said, smiling slightly as his eyes met yours. No one else was willing to step this far onto the wrong side of sane for him.  Not his family.  Not yours.  It only reaffirmed his stance that you all deserved better than what his father had originally planned.   

“She has ruined you,” Dickbag McFlaccidcock declared, tone insinuating if anyone were to be pitied, it should be Gabriel.  Unfortunately, there was a reason for that.  

Gabe watched as your hand began to shake, your eyes widening at the realization you were no longer in control of your weapon.  Slowly, you began to turn it on yourself, your other hand coming up to try and alter its course without much luck.  

He didn’t even get the chance to try and attack his brother before another blinding round of pain echoed through his skull.  

“You will watch this,” the patron saint of douchbaggery insisted.  “Because your foolishness is the reason she must die.”

A crushing weight bore down upon his shoulders, pinning him in place.  Desperation clawed viscerally through his stomach, his wings shooting out to full length as he tried to break free from his brother’s grasp.  The uber smiting he’d received, however, had stripped him of most of his strength.  He was essentially leashed and there was nothing worse than feeling caged and helpless.

Except maybe watching the one good thing in his life be destroyed because of him.  

“You want me to stand with you - fine.  I’ll be your right hand man.  The heavens will sing of our unstoppable duo - Gabriel and Raphael - or Raphael and Gabriel, whatever you prefer,” he begged, willing to say whatever his brother needed to hear if it meant buying you more time.  He could worry about the finer points of how to dig himself out later.    

“This is for your own good,” Raphael insisted.

It seemed his brother had half a brain after all, though his heart was clearly still AWOL.  

No no no no no.  Think, Gabriel, think, think, think...

Fuck, fuck, god damn, fucking fuck - think, y/n, think, think, think…

Your thoughts collided, bursting through the increasingly tense silence.  Your mounting panic pushed through his battered mind, allowing him to unintentionally pick up on what was flying through yours.  As usual, you were the only two in the room even remotely on the same page.

Fact check: that page was titled Now’s a Good Time to Panic.

The gun reached its destination against your temple, desperation hitting its peak as both your mantras came to a deafening halt.  

“It’s not your fault, Gabe,” you told him, doing your best to hide your fear and failing miserably at it.  

He nearly broke in that moment.  Here you were, about to die because of him, and your final thought was to pardon him.  It barely made a dent in his brother’s armor, and that’s when he realized just how lost the archangel had become.

Gabriel renewed his efforts, straining against his ethereal bonds.  He clenched down on his jaw, so hard he might have heard a few of his teeth crack.  It was the only way to keep his desperation from spilling out over his lips.  The last thing you needed to see was him reduced to a babbling mess.  

No, no, no, no, please, father, no…

“It’s ok,” you told him.

Fact check: things were so far from ok that Gabriel was certain no one would be leaving this room alive if you died.  

You closed your eyes, but he had no choice but to watch.  His heart hit a fever pitch, mirroring his own struggles to escape as it hammered away against his chest.  There was nothing he could do and he dropped to his knees, everything shattering as reality bore down upon him.  

He wasn’t strong enough.  He couldn’t save you.  You were going to die and it was all his fault.  

“I’m sorry,” his voice wavered, thick with emotion.  

Gabriel’s world came to a screeching halt as his brother forced you to pull the trigger.  

Next Chapter>>

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