#no longer blasting off (james)

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hey could I possibly request an Autistic! reader x Dealer! Remus where r shows affection through biting so they'll randomly come up behind rem as hes with a customer (Or James/Sirius) and just bite his shoulder but no where near hard enough to hurt and they just stand there like that and the other person with rem gets a little confused but Remus is just completely unfased because R will do this all the time if they get overwhelmed and just need to be around Remus but is way to overwhelmed to hug him

That probably made no sense but my lil autistic brain came up with it while reading your dealed rem fics :))

Your autistic brain has made this perfect blurb be born!! Thank you for requesting and feel free to send more autistic!reader x whoever you please

You'd been sketching on the sofa in the dispensary, mechanical pencil scratching against the paper as music blasted through your headphones.

It wasn't the first time that Remus had you sit in the quietest corner of the dispensary while he was selling, and every so often he'd throw his gaze in your direction smiling quietly to himself when he found you relaxed and drawing.

"Are you sure this is all I can get?" Remus hates when customers get like this. He's been straining a new type of weed and it'd been a selective process, not wanting to waste too much of it in the event that it didn't do well.

He'd limited it to 7 grams only. It was still a lot, but to seasoned smokers, not really.

"Yeah mate, m'not trying to send anyone to the hospital if they green out." The man nods, asking Remus another question that doesn't register to you.

You're just on your way to Remus, you've been stumped by your drawing and being stumped has led to a bit of overwhelm that you know just how to get rid of.

Your hand presses into the small of Remus' back as you sink your teeth into the crook of his shoulder. You don't bite him for longer than ten seconds, not hard either- there's just the slightest imprint of your teeth in his skin when you pull away.

Remus turns to you, a question on his face that he doesn't vocalise. He doesn't need to- you've been together so long and Remus has worked hard to learn all your cues so that when you don't want or can't talk, you don't need to.

You shake your head and he nods once, the man on the other side of him confused as to the entire interaction. "Sorry mate," Remus says when you're back on the sofa, pencil tapping against your lip.

"That doesn't break skin?" the man asks and Remus chuckles, placing the baggie in his hand and taking the money from his outstretched hand.

"No it's sound, see you next week?" The man takes the dismissal, taking his weed and leaving. Remus turns in your direction.

He mimes taking off one of the ears of your headphones. "Everything okay?" he asks when you do, eyes roving your face and then taking a peek at your journal.

There on the pages are a series of sirens, all from different angles. The body twisting one way, then the other, some are swimming upside down, others are laying on a rock lower body hidden as they entice a sailor.

"Yeah, was just stuck on something. It helps." He knows it does, so much so that he doesn't even check on the mark. You lean into him when he takes a seat beside you, pressing a kiss to the bitten shoulder.

"You know it's okay, dovey." he whispers, patting your head and feeling you preen under the action. "Doesn't bother me." you smile where your lips are pressed into his skin.

"Can I do it again?" you don't sound overwhelmed but Remus nods. Your teeth sink into the same spot, Remus strokes hair back into your braid, cheek pressing into your head.

When you pull away, there's a little line of dribble moving with you. Remus swipes it away with his thumb, kissing your forehead as he watches you fix your headphones back on and pick up your sketchbook again.

You start a new sketch, one of a superhero Remus has come to recognise as yourself, equipped with your pink headphones as all, laying on a sofa much like the one you're sitting on now with a cat Remus thinks is himself sitting on the arm near your shoulder.

He sits with you until another customer comes in, eyes flitting to you every couple of minutes he's away.

[wisteria-lodge]

Guys who Cry in the Harry Potter Books (and Why)

Men do 30% of the crying in the Harry Potter books, even though they represent 66% of the characters (and that's pretty much as expected).* I’m interested in why the crying happens though, and what it says about the characters. For the ladies, crying is neutral - they all cry, and for all sorts of reasons (tired, frustrated, stressed, emotionally overwrought...) Bellatrix, Augusta Longbottom, Ginny, Tonks… all cry. *Hermione* cries thirty separate times over the course of the books. 

Male crying though, that's something that gets mocked (usually by Slytherins.) Pansy calls Neville a “fat little cry baby,” and after Rita’s article (falsely) describes Harry crying, Draco comes in with “Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?” Of course there’s also “D’you think [Hagrid]’ll cry when they cut off his hippogriff’s - ” right before Hermione slaps him. So making fun of guys for crying is bad right? 

Let’s get into it. 

1 : Crying because of a death

The most “acceptable” reason for male crying. This happens a lot, we are definitely not supposed to think any less of the guys who do it. Mostly it happens *right* at the moment of death, or maybe at the funeral. The exception is Harry, who cries in Book 3 after talking about hearing his parents dying (although the narrative voice DOES let us know that he’s kind of embarrassed about this...)

“Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn’t see.” 

Then he cries again in Book 7, while visiting his parents' graves. But it’s definitely still crying over a death. Just one that Harry takes a little bit longer to process. 

Crying over a Death: Full Breakdown: 

Amos Diggory: 1 (Cedric’s death) 

Arthur Weasley: 1 (Fred’s death)

Harry Potter: 3 (Hedwig, Lily, James)

Rubeus Hagrid: 4 (Dumbledore, Buckbeak, Aragog, Harry) 

Argus Filtch: 1 (thinks Mrs. Norris is dead) 

Xenophillius Lovegood: 1 (thinks Luna is dead) 

Fillius Flitwick: (thinks Ginny is dead) 

Ron Weasley: 1 (Dumbledore’s funeral) 

Elphias Doge: 1 (Dumbledore’s funeral

2: Crying because of Pain

You’d think this one would also be acceptable. But… it really isn’t? Dudley cries when Vernon hits him (but Harry doesn’t.) Peter Pettigrew cries when he cuts off his own hand, Saw style, but it gets framed as blubbering weakness. Pettigrew framed SO pathetically for the entire resurrection scene - and honestly, for the entire rest of the series.

(Which is strange when you think about it. Like objectively, Pettigrew did GOOD. Sure he only likes Voldemort because he’s powerful, but so do most of the Death Eaters, that’s nothing special. Peter found Voldemort, resurrected him single-handedly (ha.) Found Bertha Jorkins,  i.e. the reason Voldemort was able to plan his comeback. Obviously he has god-tier bluffing and lying abilities, as well as enough willpower to cut off a limb. Being able to turn into a rat would make him a really useful spy. Also his spell, the one that killed thirteen muggles and destroyed a street? Most magic we see does not have a blast radius like that. Peter’s formidable. But somehow his job is to hang out and be Snape’s servant? (Is it because he’s not cute?  Is this JKR’s fatphobia rearing its ugly head? Unclear.)

Our last guy crying in pain is Book 1 Neville, after he breaks his wrist during flying lessons. He also “sniffs,” while walking into the Forbidden Forest for detention, which *might* count as crying? But really, Neville cries surprisingly little. We get a lot of “looked as though he might cry” and “on the verge of tears”... but that's not actually crying. And I think that’s because… early-books Neville, yes we’re supposed to see him as a little pathetic. But definitely not as pathetic as Dudley or Pettigrew. 

3: “Childlike” Crying

Sometimes the people who cry are literally little boys. This is also okay. No one is going to judge infant Harry for crying when Voldemort is in the house, or little Severus for crying when his parents are fighting. Interestingly, when Myrtle is talking about Draco crying in her bathroom, Harry assumes she’s talking about someone much younger: 

“There’s been a boy in here crying?” said Harry curiously. “A young boy?” 

But of course, when an adult is crying in a childlike way, it immediately becomes… pathetic. Again we have Pettigrew, who “burst into tears. It was horrible to watch: He looked like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.” In the Horcrux cave, crying Dumbledore is described “like a child dying of thirst.” Which is also meant to be pathetic, but in more of a ‘Harry has to be the adult now’ sort of way. Also, the potion seems to have made Dumbledore mentally regress back to his youth, so it’s *closer* to a literal “child crying” moment. 

(I considered putting Dumbledore drinking the potion in the ‘pain’ section, but at least in the book I think it’s clear he’s mostly in emotional rather than physical pain.)

Where this gets messy is with the house-elves. House-elves are not children, but they are presented as childlike. They are small and in-your-face, direct even though their problem-solving tends to be very convoluted/not especially logical. I like the present-tense, no pronouns way they speak, but I can’t deny it is kind of baby-talk adjacent. And… house elves are *really* emotional. Dobby, Kreacher (and Winky) cry a LOT. If I had to guess, I would say JKR likes treating house-elves as childlike so it’s more of a surprise when it turns out that one of them was behind everything. But considering that they are slaves, it is gross - considering that one of the main real-world justifications for slavery was ‘slaves are childlike, and unable to take care of themselves.'

There’s also Hagrid. With seventeen separate instances of crying, Hagrid easily cries more than any other guy in the Harry Potter books. And… well… he’s also presented as oddly childlike. He seems much more like Harry and Ron’s contemporary than a peer of the other professors - which is weird, since  if he went to school with Voldemort fifty years ago, he’s in his sixties now. But still, he’s helpless in the face of criticism, he’s comically out of his depth whenever he deals with the Ministry, he’s constantly letting things slip or drastically misjudging danger levels. The first three books all use “Hagrid gets in trouble, the gang has to bail him out” as a plot point, and in Book 4 his sideplot with Madame Maxime gets treated like a schoolboy’s first crush, with all these jokes about him wearing suits that don’t quite fit, and trying and failing to style his hair. Not to mention, we know she’s flattering him because she wants insider info on the Tournament. But he doesn’t know that. 

4. Crying because of Sports

Oliver Wood cries when Gryffindor wins the Quidditch cup. That's all.

And that brings us to our stragglers. The only non-childlike guys who cry for reasons other than death, pain, or sports are as follows: 

Harry Potter: 1 instance of crying

Draco Malfoy: 2 instances of crying

Severus Snape: 2 instances of crying

Albus Dumbledore: 4 instances of crying

Horace Slughorn: 1 instance of crying

Let’s see what’s going on here. 

Harry Potter

Dumbledore had weakened himself by drinking that terrible potion for nothing. Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand, and his eyes burned with tears as behind him. Fang began to howl. He clutched the cold locket in his hand so tightly that it hurt, but he could not prevent hot tears spilling from his eyes

There’s a lot going on in this moment: Harry is tired, frustrated, disappointed, overwhelmed. But even though it is a complex moment, probably the main emotion is still Harry’s attempt to process Dumbledore’s death, now that he finally has a second to do so. So this honestly could have gone in the “Crying because of a death” category. It’s just different enough that I want to specially call it out. 

Draco Malfoy

We hear about Draco crying once from Myrtle, and then see it first hand: 

Malfoy was crying — actually crying — tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.

The narrative takes a second to let us know that he was ACTUALLY CRYING, just to hammer in that this is something unexpected and not-normal. I think I want to attribute Draco’s tendency to cry - and cry because he’s overwhelmed, scared, lonely - to the character’s slight femme coding. What can I say, he cries for ""girly"" reasons. And so does Snape!

Severus Snape 

“Snivellus” is clearly a nickname meant to evoke the idea of “crybaby,” since “sniveling” is a synonym for crying. We also get this: 

Snape was kneeling in Sirius’s old bedroom. Tears were dripping from the end of his hooked nose as he read the old letter from Lily. 

Crying over Lily’s letter could count as crying over a death… but since he’s crying over a letter, not over a grave or her body (like in the movie), I’m going to say that he’s probably crying because of guilt, emotional overload, or love (especially because he rips the ‘love Lily’ off the end of that letter.) Like Draco, Snape might be getting little bit of femme-coding here. He’s the mean-girl type of bully (versus the mean boy) He cries, he threatens to poison people - which is something we only see women (and Draco) actually doing in these books. Idk, he’s an odd one who JKR clearly has very complicated feelings about. 

Albus Dumbledore 

I was actually really surprised that Dumbledore cries as much as he does, and at such unusual times! He cries when he sees Snape’s doe patronus - because of love or just because he’s emotionally overwhelmed. He cries all through the Horcrux cave, primarily because of guilt. He cries twice during the King’s Cross Station vision-quest, once because of his complicated feelings about Harry while he asks for forgiveness, and once over … Grindlewald.

“They say he showed remorse in later years, alone in his cell at Nurmengard. I hope that it is true. I would like to think he did feel the horror and shame of what he had done. Perhaps that lie to Voldemort was his attempt to make amends . . . to prevent Voldemort from taking the Hallow . . .”  “. . . or maybe from breaking into your tomb?” suggested Harry, and Dumbledore dabbed his eyes.

And okay. JKR announced that Dumbledore was gay just a few months after book seven was published, and I think she was folding in deliberate queer-coding as early Book 6. My proof of that is Dumbledore's increased emotionality - as we can see, it’s pretty unusual for men to cry in the Harry Potter books because of “softer” emotions like love, regret, stress etc. It’s something she associates with femininity, and I’m sure she associates gay guys with femininity as well (I mean, that’s a very common thing to do.)

There’s also this interesting passage from Book 6: 

This younger Albus Dumbledore’s long hair and beard were auburn. Having reached their side of the street, he strode off along the pavement, drawing many curious glances due to the flamboyantly cut suit of plum velvet that he was wearing. “Nice suit, sir,” said Harry, before he could stop himself, but Dumbledore merely chuckled.

Now, this is subtle. Wizards out and about in the muggle world often wear unusual colors like purple and emerald green. However. That adjective flamboyantly is only used one other time in the entire series, to describe Fudge’s hand gestures. But here, it is used to describe an outfit, a purple velvet suit which is honestly more than a little bit Oscar Wilde. And “flamboyantly gay” … those are two words often heard together. 

Also, correct me if I’m wrong, but I am pretty sure this is the only opinion about clothing Harry ever expresses aloud. And, I think @niche-pastiche hit the nail right on the head, saying that Harry's "Nice suit, sir" is "SO the response of a young adhd boy in the early 2000s trying not to say "thats gay." 

Horace Slughorn

Horace Slughorn cries at Aragog’s funeral, not really out of grief for Aragog, but mostly out of a maudlin sense of togetherness, nostalgia, and camaraderie. And… I do think we have one more slightly morally ambiguous femme-coded guy on our hands? Like Dumbledore, Slughorn is very much a flashy dresser, with shiny hair and gold buttons on his waistcoat. He loves treats and candies (hey… so does Dumbledore. They’re the only adults with a sweet tooth like that.) He loves fancy dinner parties, and is well-connected without being ambitious the way Lucius is. He also (like Draco) is aligned with pureblood-supremacy, but hyper avoidant of violence and confrontation. Except for the Harry example, I think I’d be comfortable with calling all of these last few instances “Femme-Coded Crying.” 

* Methodology - My list of 208 Harry Potter characters comes from TV Tropes, which had the most complete list. I am excluding characters from Cursed Child and the Fantastic Beasts Films. 

In order to find instances of crying, I searched for the words “cried/cry/crying” “tears” “sob” and “sniff.” I counted each crying episode as one, even if crying was brought up multiple times throughout the scene. I made the fairest call I could whenever I hit a “the crying intensified” or the “the tears restarted,” but I mostly judge pretty conservatively when I’m ringing up data.

[marigold-hills]

July 5: burnt | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 1048

It’s July now, but it’s been happening for at least three months.

Every evening at half past seven an ice cream van comes hurtling down the street, blearing out its tune. It stops on the corner. No one ever comes out to it. After five minutes of silence, it starts up again, the sound somehow even louder for the reprieve.

James Potter is sick and tired of it - because every evening at seven, five-month-old Harry falls asleep only to be woken up by the noise.

It’s been a bad week. Teething. Crying. James hadn’t had longer than forty minutes of sleep at a stretch in days and it’s starting to get to him. Every single smile Harry gives him makes it worth it, every kicked off sock makes him laugh and every little cuddle leaves him in awe – but.

(He hates the but. Hates adding it. There shouldn’t be one, he thinks, he should be endlessly grateful for every moment, take it all in stride. Because Harry – because his son - isn’t a but. Isn’t a burden.)

But.

Harry falls asleep, little arms stretched out to the sides. James puts him in the crib and the little thing turns himself onto his belly (a brand-new trick, that). Deep breathing, sleepy little sighs.

James is burning and burnt out. Eyes filled with sand. Back half numb from carrying a heavier-by-the-day infant for days with little break.

I’ll have a cup of tea, he thinks, and drink it while it’s still hot. Then sleep.

The kettle boils. James picks out his favourite tea, adds in the sugar. Just finishes pouring in the water when the music starts.

A precarious moment between sleep and waking but Harry tips into consciousness, little face scrunched up with dissatisfaction and cries mounting, building, louder by the second.

James Potter is a patient man, a kind man. But he’s had enough.

He picks up Harry, shushes him. It’s a quick thing, for him to stop crying once he’s in his daddy’s arms, but his brilliant eyes are wide open now, sleep all but forgotten.

It’s the thought of his nice hot cup of tea that does it. He’s barefoot, when he leaves the house, Harry hoisted up on one hip. Babbling happily now because it’s a great adventure, every time they leave the house.

The music stops and there it is, the thrice-blasted ice cream van. James stomps up to it in a manner certainly not dignified. There is no one at the open window.

“Excuse me?” James shouts into the interior.

A head pops up from below the counter and James thinks oh, fuck me, because:

1.        He’s ready and rearing to have a go, furious and fuelled by exhaustion, but the man is the most beautiful creature James had ever had the misfortune of seeing, and

2.        Literally just fuck me, but

3.        He has Harry on his arm and pieces of mashed up carrot in his hair, some unknown substance on his shirt, and the man is stunning, and

4.        James is just so, so tired.

“Yes?” The beautiful man asks, looking a bit confused and that’s fair enough actually because James is the first customer on that spot in the last three months.

“Err…,” he stutters, “a flake, please?”

“I don’t sell ice cream,” says the beautiful, stunned man driving an ice cream van.

James takes a look at the menu on the back wall, and on the decal on the side of the van that says a .99 flake is £2.50.

“No?”

“No,” and somehow the beautiful man is the one who sounds confused, and he won’t stop staring between James and Harry, big round eyes striking underneath black curls, “I sell drugs.”

“Huh. Like… pharmaceuticals?”

“No. Like weed.”

“Huh.”

Harry takes that as a queue to start babbling at a new person he’s never seen before and the man in the van visibly melts. “Hi there little one,” he says, and James knows he should be walking off right this fucking moment, because a self-confessed drug dealer is speaking to his son and that’s just, categorically, not on…

 But.

“Can I get some of that?” He blurts out because it’s been so long since he got high and he’s so so tired, and maybe tomorrow he’ll take his mum up on the offer to babysit, sit in his garden and just smoke.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” the beautiful man says like it’s the biggest affront and isn’t he the one selling?

”But… why?”it sounds weak and petulant even to his own ears.

Harry makes a few giggling sounds and stuffs his little fist into his mouth. James switches him onto the other hip. The man points to the baby, like it answers the question, and actually, fair enough, it does.

(His hand is also rather slender and fragile looking, and there are pretty silver rings on his fingers and James’ sleep deprived brain says bite.)

“I wasn’t… I wouldn’t…” James tries to explain himself, but it all comes out wrong and awkward. “Anyway, no,” he gathers himself and remembers he had a reason to storm out of his house and just because the man was pretty it wouldn’t change that, “you wake him up every day.”

Somehow, he manages to sound stern and he’s pretty proud of himself for that, actually.

The man’s face falls. Just… collapses. Like it’s the worst news he’s ever heard.

“I do?”

“Yeah. You come by just after his bedtime and the music is really loud, don’t know if you noticed. And it’s been months.”

It’s something akin to pure devastation that spreads through the man’s features like a sun burn. “I’m very sorry, little one,” he tells Harry, seriously. “I won’t play it anymore.”

There, job done, James thinks, and finds he doesn’t actually like that, not at all. Still, “thank you,” he tells the man because that’s what polite people do when their requests are granted, and his mum raised a polite man.

They stare at each other, him and the man, and James knows that this is when he should turn around go home, put Harry back down and then maybe have a shower, but…

“Can I have your number?”

And the most surprising thing? It’s not James who asks.

PART 2

[sorencd]

could we get dating wilson hcs😼

ofc 😏😏😏 he's so pookie wookie i lovf him

dating wilson headcannons

you two love watching sitcoms every night (if the both of you aren't tired) like seinfeld, the mary tyler moore show, fasier and friends while cuddling in bed! usually since he's the first one to leave in the morning, he'd prepare your coffee for you and wake you up with a kiss on the forehead, telling you that he's off to work and u should wake up soon. he’s like ur personal alarm clock!! he even calls a few minutes later from his office just to make sure you really woke up, because you have a habit of waking up but as soon as you check the time and decide that it's still early, you would immediately fall back asleep so easily. he’s amazed honestly.

"yeah, 'm awake.."

"are you sure?"

"...mmh.."

"you're still in bed aren't you?"

"no..'m up i swear.."

so you end up having no choice but to get ready for work because now your brain is no longer sleepy :( you love trying new restaurants and food with him. if there's a new restaurant, no matter how bad the reviews are, that won't really stop you two from eating at the place, you'd still go there. but it does often result to never returning there ever again. and when you don't feel like going out of the comfort of your home, you would instead cook something up together. matching aprons and all that stuff!! while preparing the food, u can never cut the veggies properly without some good music playing in the background! there'd be songs from artists like the beatles, abba, huey lewis and the news, daryl hall & john oates, and the beegees!

i can see him singing and dancing to 'more than a woman' while straining the pulp from the tomato soup and you have to get him to stop moving too much or he'll burn himself in the process.

"james!"

"i know that in a thousand years, i'd fall in love with you again~"

"be careful! it's going to pour out!"

if u don't know how to play poker, wilson will gladly play something like monopoly or uno instead. though monopoly is more fun with a lot of people, he’s happy to do anything with you! one time, you played snakes and ladders instead of uno and each time wilson went down the snake he'd shout 'what!?' and sneakily try to change the number he rolled on the die without u noticing. he always plays like his life is on the line.

"another five?!"

"down you go, james!" you evilishly laughed and moved his piece for him, feeling triumphant. while you were dancing in joy because you're so close to winning, he tried flipping the die.

"i saw that."

"no you didn't."

stealing his clothes is a must! you've reached a point where u even hide his stuff as soon as they're fresh out of the dryer so he won't beat you to his own shirts. singing doesn't only limit to the kitchen, it also extends to the car and late night drives after work! you two would have songs blasting and the windows rolled down!!

masterlist

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[irisintheafterglow]

*runs out of my cave* I can not be silenced any longer. So like... best friend biker satoru... the campus heart throb.. wearing jeans, a white T and a black leather jacket, picking you up from class and he's right there leaning on his bike or doing the thing where they sleep/lie down on top of the bike with his legs crossed at the ankles while he waits for you and he hands you a spare helmet, takes you out on an impromptu date cause you've been studying too much (according to him) and after that he takes you back home, parks his bike for a bit and walks you to your door and before you go in he cups your face and he- oh my time's up *gets dragged back into the cave* //this brainworm has been in my head for FAR too long feel free to do what you want with it babes 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

james dean, daydream look in your eye

wc: 1.5k

cw/tags: best friends to lovers, swearing, mutual pining but reader is in denial, so fluffy you can sleep on it like a pillow

note: *drags you back out from the cave* LET THEM COOK and GUESS WHAT i'm bringing back law student!gojo. hope you enjoy!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :))

“Now, what the hell is Greased Lightnin’ doing outside my building?”

“I was going for Rebel Without a Cause, but I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he replies without missing a beat. You roll your eyes and his grin only gets wider as he hands you the spare helmet from the storage box. “What, not digging the look?”

“You look like you’re gonna cut someone with a switchblade. Also, workshop that last line; it’s a little too pretentious.” His jaw hangs open in exaggerated shock at your blunt criticism of his pickup lines. You’re a little shrewder than usual after a group-turned-solo assignment irritated you beyond belief, and it was easier to mess with Satoru than to acknowledge how good he looked in his stupid leather jacket. The leather jacket, you noted, that he bought while thrifting with you last week and the same jacket he’d turned his nose up to thinking it was “not his style.” Though Suguru was practically tackling Satoru to get his hands on it, the latter had ultimately decided to buy it after you made an off-hand comment about how it’d fit nicely with his bike. 

“You wound me. I personally thought it was a great line,” he laments, stuffing your bag in the back container of the bike while you slip on the helmet. When he’s done locking up the box, his legs effortlessly stretch over the motorcycle and you climb on behind him, snaking your arms delicately around his waist. “Just for that, I’m kidnapping you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’m starting the bike now, so you better hold on tighter than that if you don’t wanna fall off,” he says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. Begrudgingly, you obey his suggestion and shimmy closer to him until his back is against your chest and your arms are wound tightly around his torso. You thank every deity you can think of for creating your helmet so your best friend can’t see the warmth rising to your face when you feel the pure muscle cut into his abdomen. “We’re getting dinner and you can’t stop me!”

“You’re a menace to society!” 

“And yet, your fine ass is still on the seat!” With a jerk of the key, he starts the bike before you can spit out a retort. It hums beneath your bodies and your feet leave the ground on instinct when Satoru gives the kickstand a firm strike, cutting a dangerously risky turn that has you cursing his name over the sound of the engine. His laugh reverberates against your forearms and you rest your chin on his shoulder, relishing in his natural body heat that helped stave off the chilly wind as you passed car after car. The cacophony of noises are familiar to you by now, finally unbothered by roaring vehicles, sputtering engines, and snippets of blasted radios. 

“I think you need to pick a lane and stay in it, Satoru,” you managed to verbalize after he opened the ginormous doors of his garage, effectively unveiling his newest impulse purchase that was sure to tank his dad’s credit score for the fourteenth time. It was pretty, you had to admit, and very Satoru. He definitely ordered a custom paint job on it for it to be such a deep shade of black and the subtle purple lightning accents running down the hardware were a nice touch. His helmet had the same design scheme and he was very excited to show you your helmet, matching his but with bright blue bolts instead. To match his eyes, you figured. 

“The whole point of this thing is so I can go between lanes, silly.” His fingers lightly flick your forehead as he enters the garage, running his hand over the new leather like it was a prized racehorse. “Haven’t you seen those bikers on the highways? They’re in all the lanes, all the time.”

“You know what I mean,” you say. “I don’t know how many clients are gonna take you seriously if they see their lawyer rolling up on two wheels instead of four. You’re not really helping the ‘rich boy whose dad paid for his entire tuition’ allegations.” 

“That’s why I’m going into entertainment law, so I can kick legal ass and look hot at the same time. Also, I really couldn’t give a shit about my tuition or my dad or school in general. I’m only here because you are.” 

“That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” you scoff and he quirked an eyebrow at your blunt dismissal of his reasoning. “Admit it, you’re only going to law school so you can pick up the hot girls in mini skirts.”

“They’re a bonus, yeah,” he admits and you shake your head in disbelief, too exasperated to ask if he’s joking or not. Part of you died a tiny bit every time he talked about a new girl he was talking to or told you about how many people asked him out. You commended them for doing what you never had the courage to do for fear of ruining your friendship with him. For now, you just laughed off his trial attempts at flirting and looked away when he stared at you a little too tenderly for comfort. “Wanna take her on her maiden voyage with me?”

“That’s what you say about ships, Satoru, but sure.”

“Maybe I want this ship to sail, then,” he says suggestively and you resist the urge to hit him in the head with your new helmet. Rides with Satoru became much more frequent after you finally agreed to let him pick you up from class despite only living a few minutes away. Often, he decided to make an unplanned detour at your favorite fast food place or a random grocery store as an excuse to spend more time with you. Maybe it was selfish or maybe it was more, but you didn’t mind his hand finding your thigh when you were stopped at a red light or his lingering gaze when you took off your helmet. You forced yourself not to think anything of it, but found it pretty hard to ignore him this time when he parked his bike on the curb and walked you to your door. 

“I should probably give this back; thank you for letting me borrow it,” you say quietly, attempting to shrug off his jacket from your shoulders when his hands are suddenly there to keep it in place. He wordlessly draped it over your shoulders when he came back from the bathroom at dinner, noting the goosebumps on your exposed skin and the way you crossed your arms to conserve warmth. As if Fate could get any crueler, he looked even better in just his jeans and his white tee-shirt, all charming and tempting and everything that you never could have. 

“Just keep it for now and give it back to me tomorrow, yeah?” He was looking at you in that way again, the one that made your knees turn into putty and had your heart racing as fast as the bike down a straightaway. It was a gentleness that he only reserved for you, or at least you hoped he did. 

“Okay, I’ll give it back after my 9:00 A.M. Is that okay?”

“Keep it however long you need it. It suits you.” His voice was too soft, too fond, too loving. The way his hair reflected the warm glow of your porchlight wasn’t helping, either.

“Thanks, ‘toru, for the jacket and for the impromptu dinner date.”

“Of course, gorgeous. Anything for you.” He turns to leave you alone again and the thought fills you with so much dread that you want to throw up. 

Fuck it. 

Before you have time to think, your hand is on his arm and spinning him around, your other hand grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling his face down to you. He’s kissing you back within a microsecond, as if he was waiting for you to stop him and make a move. It’s as natural as blinking, pulling him close until your back hits the door and feeling him grip your waist. He sighs into your mouth when your fingers find the hair on the back of his neck and you’re barely able to pull away before he’s chasing you down again, kissing you like he’s starving. When you’re both breathing a little heavier and your foreheads rest against each other, his hand gently cups your cheek and he runs his thumb over your skin. 

“You stole my thunder,” he murmurs, your fingers still carding through his hair. “I was gonna spin around and kiss you, but you beat me to it.”

“I got impatient,” you state simply, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Can I still keep your jacket?” He chuckles under his breath, nudging his nose against yours.

“Baby, you can keep all of my jackets.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[mrsriddlenott]

The First Day Of SmutMas

[smutmas masterlist] [main masterlist]

~ First Christmas ~

bf!James Potter x fem!Reader

Summary: You and James have your first Christmas in your new flat together. You two have fun buying new decorations and deciding where they’ll go while getting distracted in every room you put them in.

- no voldy, no war, no Jilly(i love them tho), mention of reader having a mother, this one’s probably gonna be longer than the others since it’s the first, & ik they can just magic all this up but🤷‍♀️-

Warnings: 18+ Content!!!! Sickly sweet fluff, language, nicknames(Baby, Princess, Good Girl, etc), reader is shorter than James, alludes to Smut, degrading(kinda?), aggressive make out, f!receiving fingering, m!receiving oral. Me being obsessed with James being a dominant softie.

You and James had been together since your 5th year of Hogwarts and by the time your 7th came to an end you knew you were meant to be together forever. Once you had successfully started University and James solidified his Pro-Quidditch career close to a year later, he was desperately begging you to join him in the two bedroom flat he leased for you both, and how could you say no?

You moved in during the Spring and by the time July rolled around you were able to hold a housewarming party with all your friends, and by the start of your next school semester in September, you could really call it home. Which brings you to now, where you sit in your cozy living room under a large blanket texting your Mother as James heats up dinner for you both.

“Jamie!! Oh my Gods!!!” You shouted, jolting up in your love seat and tossing your blanket off as you held your phone in both hands looking at it. James came running into the living room from the connected kitchen as soon as he heard your distress, skidding around the breakfast island as though he was on the Quidditch pitch.

“What?! What’s wrong are you okay??” His eyes darted around your face and body before scanning the room as though looking for danger. “No!! We don’t have Christmas decorations Jamie, my parents have our tree up already look!” You got up, shoving your phone in your boyfriends face as you pouted up to him, showing the sparkling Christmas tree in the photo your Mother sent you.

“I completely forgot I didn’t have my own,” you sighed, looking back to the photo of your decorated childhood living room, “Christmas felt so far away when I moved in so I figured we’d just buy one before we needed one and now it’s gonna be Christmas soon-” your rambling dies down when James’ warm hands cup your face as he shushes your worries, pulling your chin up so you have to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t worry Love, we have close to a month to get this place all festive, we can go to the store first thing in the morning okay?” You shake his hands from your face with scrunched brows before pushing past him entirely, “No, let’s go now, we can set this place up tonight it’s too far into December to wait any longer.”

James stands still in the middle of your shared living room as you rush around, grabbing your coat and keys and straightening your hair in the mirror by your front door, “Love?” James spoke in an overly cautious voice, “It’s only December 5th, we have plenty of time,” His little giggle that usually would have you basically kicking your feet and blushing makes you glare at him through the mirror.

“Right, okay fair enough I’ll get my coat,” He states with a nod of his head and snap of his fingers as he spins on his feet, leaving you to put on your shoes with a triumphant smile. You rushed him out the door as soon as his feet were in his boots before you were speeding out of your car garage as fast as you could, blasting your Christmas playlist louder than needed the entire ride to the store.

James smiled to himself as he watched you sing over every lyric of Feliz Navidad while you wiggled in the drivers seat dancing in what space you had, “Jesus Baby, I knew you loved Christmas but I didn’t know it was this much,” He chuckled to himself with his chin in his hand leant over the middle console. You reached to turn down your music so you could speak properly, keeping your fingers on the nob and making it clear it wouldn’t be for long, “It’s our first Christmas living together James,” you shrugged, flashing him a quick smile before continuing, “I don’t know this one’s just different”

James swore he’d never spent longer shopping, even when you moved in together, but he didn’t complain. The shimmer in your eyes every time you saw something Christmas related had him holding out longer every time he thought to ask when you two would be done. James gladly showed off his strength picking up the box for the 6 foot Christmas tree you said was “just perfect for the flat” and picked out a few boxes of variously shaped lights, but mainly let you run the show as he pushed the items around on the comically too small cart. Until he saw something you must have missed, laughing to himself behind you and quickly grabbing the plastic mistletoe with a bright red ribbon around it, slipping it under the stockings you picked out so it could be a surprise.

Almost as soon as you were back home and parked, you were jumping out to start gathering bags from your trunk, “Baby let me, there‘s like twenty bags in there,” James laughed out while joining you at the back of the car, however you were desperate to get to decorating, insisting it would get done faster if you helped, as well as keep him from needing to do multiple trips up the stairs. Which he couldn’t argue with, so after a few minutes he caved and let you take significantly less bags than you planned, before making your way upstairs.

It didn’t take long to get into the groove of decorating as you turned on your music and began imagining the perfect places for all your decorations. Starting in the living room, you began handing James tinsel to hang off various surfaces as you started unboxing the lights and thinking of where they’re needed most. Tugging at the opening of the box, you watched as James reluctantly taped over the ends of the fake greenery attempting, and failing, to get it to hang evenly over the entrance to your hallway. The obvious pieces of tape and ripped bits hanging uneven and way too low made you cringe as you stepped forward, “er….Jamie Sweetie, do you wanna open these instead and I can take over that”

Staying in your groove however, proved difficult. Since James thought he didn’t seem to have the artistic vision you were looking for in your decoration process, he opted for “patiently”waiting for you to tell him what to do as you worked throughout the flat with James following behind your heels like a lost puppy. In reality though, there was nothing patient about James Potter and at this point he had honestly grown rather bored of decorating, becoming desperate for your attention. He couldn’t stop himself from grabbing your hand every 10 to 20 minutes just to twirl you around to Christmas music, as you both laughed and enjoyed the other’s company he watched your eyes shine up at him like he wanted to all evening. When you inevitably caught on to his attempts to distract you however, you began turning down his dances leading him to pout behind your busy figure when you asked him if he could set up the tree for you to decorate instead.

After eyeing the blank canvas of the new tree and the various boxes of different shaped ornaments, you quickly grew entranced by the millions of ways you could think to arrange the shining pieces of glass and plastic, leaving James to grumble to himself while rummaging through the remaining bags to see if you missed any of the fragile orbs. Once he got to a bag holding only two stockings he smirked to himself, grabbing it quickly and yanking out the artificial mistletoe before facing your back as you gently set the hook of a red ornament on the wire branch of the tree. James approached you quickly, standing directly behind you and holding the little decoration above both your heads in one of his large hands.

“Look up,” he chuckled and took your hip in his free hand, spinning you around as you observed the adorable little thing above you with a smile. In less than a second he had tossed the green plastic aside and was gripping the back of your head in his now freed hand, tugging your lips into his as soon as your eyes met. He sighed into you, licking along your bottom lip and begging for entrance as you whined below him, the kiss was passionate and full of unspoken desires as your hands found their designated spot in his messy curls.

James groaned as you tugged on his locks, gripping you tightly before slamming you into the closest wall with a protective hand on your head. Your gasp forced your lips to separate, James staring down at the swollen, red flesh before trailing his lips down your neck to mark there as well, “You drive me crazy you know? You look absolutely breath taking doing the simplest of things,” His voice was low and drenched in arousal as his hands began trailing up and down your body possessively.

The combination of his hot breath and his delicate lips slowly turning aggressive had you shivering and clenching your legs together, your lips unable to keep in your song of pleasure. James’ cocky smile grew in the crook of your neck at the sound, urging him to slip his hand under your shirt to tease the top of your pants and tug you closer by the free belt loop. James brought his lips to the shell of your ear where he softly whispered sounding almost like pleading, “Lemme make you feel good Baby, then we can get back to work.”

His lips immediately returned to their assault of your neck as you tried to will your brain into forming a sentence, “We- hmph….we need to get it done Jamie- fuck.” His teeth dug into the flesh of the side of your neck with a groan and his fingers struggled their way past the waistband of your jeans to drag his fingertips over the hem of your underwear before his mouth was returning to your ear. “I won’t take long then…..I know you want to. I can feel your heat already, you know all you have to do is ask and it’s yours.”

You could hear his smirk in his voice as you whimpered, whining a feeble please that allowed him to rush his hand away only for a second as he unbuttoned your jeans, before quickly snaking his way down the front of your pants and underwear. You both sighed out a moan as the pad of his rough finger slid it’s way through your slick folds, locating your clit immediately and adding a finger as he drew quick circles that took your breath away. “Y’like that Princess?” James chuckled as he spoke, “I know you do, you’re fucking dripping in my hand,”

James’ voice was dark as his deep, blown out eyes met yours, his wide smile only grew as he quickly shoved both his fingers forward and inside of your desperate cunt, forcing your eyes to shut and your mouth to fall open in a moan. “Oh fuck. Fucking hell Jamie,” James wasted no time in picking up the most brutal pace your tight jeans would allow, the feel of the seam scratching against the back of his hand only increasing his need for you. Each time his fingers hit the deepest parts of you he’d swirl his fingertips against the warm, spongey spot and each time your moans would fall into whimpers as you clenched around his digits. Your mind was going hazy as the tension in your lower stomach grew, your moans turning into pants and whines of pleasure as you cling to James’s arms, nails digging into him and surely marking his flesh.

His teeth nip at the bruising skin of your neck pushing you closer to your breaking point, your legs shook under you and his free arm moved to support your back. His fingers worked faster as you tried to support yourself on his chest that vibrated with laughter, his mocking tone surrounding you, “Gods Princess, can’t even fucking stay standing,” his teeth harshly pulled at the abused flesh of your neck just to hear your whines before continuing, “Pathetic really, bet you won’t even wanna finish the tree once I’m finished….isn’t that right?”

“Fu-fuck James….don’t b-be mean,” James snickered into your neck, feeling the clench of your walls and knowing full well you were enjoying every word, “Oh shut the fuck up and be grateful.” He punctuated his words with a harsh move of his fingers against your g-spot, snapping the tension that he’d built up and pushing you over the edge. Your head fell backward into the wall loudly, eyes screwed shut and your mouth open in a silent moan as your whole body shook around James’ fingers that slowly calmed and retreated to his mouth to be sucked clean. He pecked your sweaty cheek and helped to steady you against the wall, laughing at his handy work as you huffed, attempting to catch your breath. “Okay, now back to work Love.”

Your eyes lazily opened to meet his gaze, his authoritative voice making you question what he was planning. “I thought you sai-“ James laughed aloud, kissing your forehead and buttoning your pants as your brows scrunched together, watching him retreat to grab a random ornament before making a show of finding the best spot for it to take.

Over an hour later you found yourself leant below the tree adding the last few ornaments where they looked best. “Hey! Would ya look at that!!” James suddenly stated dramatically as he stood behind you, watching intently as you bent forward on your knees toward the tree. You turned to find him much closer than you expected with a hand above his head, once again dangling the mistletoe above you both. “Gotta give me another kiss now Love,” James almost whispered with a bright smile, “How bout you be all festive and follow the rules yeah?”

When you went to stand James’ rough hand met your shoulder, lightly shoving you back onto your knees and tsking down at you softly. He pocketed his mistletoe, caressing your cheek with his knuckle sending a shiver directly down your spine, “You kissed me on the lips last time Princess, shouldn’t I get a different kiss this time?” His voice was laced in a condescending tone as his bottom lip stuck out in a mocking pout, watching your eyes dart between his darkening gaze and his growing bulge that was almost level with your eyes.

You smiled up at him, maintaining eye contact as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his clothed crotch and immediately letting your tongue slip past your lips to leave a trail of spit up the outline of his shaft to his tip, eliciting a groan from the back of James’ throat. “Fucking ‘ell, take them off first” he growled above you, making you giggle as you tugged his pants and boxers halfway down his muscular thighs, letting his fully hard dick bounce up against his abdomen. Your eyes and lips gravitated to it as though they were magnets, mouth watering as you planted soft kisses on the base of his shaft before trailing higher while James’ breath picked up. His strong fingers weaved into your hair, a telltale sign he was getting impatient, just how you liked him.

Almost as soon as your delicate lips met his leaking red tip you were opening them to trace up and down his slit with the tip of your tongue, before padding your teeth with your lips and hollowing your cheeks to abruptly and without warning slip his throbbing dick down your throat in one go. The obscene, shaky moan James released was like music to your ears as his fingers aggressively clenched in your hair. “Fuck y/n, bloody amazing you are!” You bobbed your head up and down, immediately setting a quick pace you knew he thoroughly enjoyed.

His hips lightly thrusted forward to meet your tongue each time you backed away, forcing you to gag around him as his tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly. The weight of his heavy dick and the taste of his precum sending a wave of pleasure to your core, drenching your already damp underwear once again. You balanced yourself with a hand on his large thigh, moaning as you dug your nails into the flesh, pulling a strangled moan from James and making him jolt harder into your mouth accidentally.

“Fuck Princess I’m sorry, just feels so- oh fuck,” you didn’t let up at his words, even as his hips mindlessly pushed him further and harder into you. Your eyes watered as your throat started to hurt, his grip in your hair moving to grip onto the back of your neck hard. “I’m gonna cum and you’re gonna fucking swallow it okay?” Your teary eyes met his as you nodded the best you could around him, “Good girl, always so good for me.” You moan around him at his praises, hearing him hiss above you as you absentmindedly buck your hips against nothing but the seam of your jeans. His dick twitched against your tongue when James pulled back before he was shoving back in harder, using your neck to push you further onto him as he spilled his cum into the back of your throat, forcing a gag from your desperate attempts to swallow every last drop he gifted you.

James gently removed himself from your mouth, trailing his hand to your cheek in a comforting manner as he tugged his pants up over himself. He trailed his thumb over your swollen lip, smiling down to you with a hazed look on his face, “My little gift under the tree.” His voice was soft and inviting as you giggled up to him before standing to turn and observe your beautiful Christmas tree.

“Baby, you missed an ornament,” James stated as he pointed out a snowflake remaining in the box now filled mostly with empty protective wrapping, “I was wondering, why didn’t you want to get a real Christmas tree? Y’know, be all traditional for the first Christmas in the flat?” James asked as he grabbed the forgotten ornament gently and handed it to you.

“Because this way it‘ll last a while, as long as we keep it safe anyway. We can take it with us when we move into a house together and one day it’ll be our kids’ first Christmas tree. Maybe even some of our grandkids’ if it lasts that long.” You spoke so nonchalantly as though you knew for a fact you wanted to spend every Christmas as a family and James swore his chest shrunk, his heart suddenly feeling the need to break out of his body as his eyes scrunched with the smile on his face. His slightly teary eyes scanned the room that only seconds ago he saw as a bit gaudy, now seeing the bows, the flashing lights of different colors, and that green plastic mocking vegetation on any flat edge it would fit on….as absolutely beautiful, each one a new memory to be shared.

When you turned to look to him you saw he was already watching you hang the glittering snowflake with tears in his eyes. Wasting no time in throwing himself forward, gripping your cheeks in his warm hands and melding his lips into yours, only barely separating to breath with his forehead against yours. “If you keep talking like that then this tree will only be a few months older than James Jr” You burst out laughing together as you fall into his arms in a warm hug.

“I am most definitely not naming our son James Jr,” you laughed, stepping around him with a pat on his shoulder, “James can be his middle name though Sweetie, we can think of a first name when we actually start trying.” You giggled, rearranging a piece of tinsel that was out of place, not seeing the look of pure love and adoration James was giving you.

“Well then what the bloody ‘ell are we waitin’ for” James loudly stated, pulling your attention to him before he was hauling you up by your thighs, tossing you over his shoulder, and smacking your ass with a laugh while walking toward your shared bedroom.

~~~~

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[positivexcellence]

Jared Padalecki Says Goodbye to ‘Walker’ and Blasts the CW’s ‘Cheap Content’ Strategy After Show’s Cancellation: ‘F— It. They Can’t Fire Me Again’

The writers first introduced this Jackal storyline at the end of the third season as a way to excavate more demons from Cordell and Captain James’ (Coby Bell) shared past. What did this storyline help you unlock in terms of your understanding of Cordell? What were you most interested in exploring from a character perspective?

I’ve been fortunate enough for many years, many decades, to play characters that are in situations where the story is not about the situation necessarily: It’s about what’s going on with the character. On “Supernatural,” we fought God, we fought Lucifer, I was Lucifer at one point, we fought demons — but it was really about the brothers. It was about a bond; it was about the tropes of sacrifice, loyalty, determination, discipline and so many more things.

So when the Jackal storyline first occurred to the gang, [a serial killer storyline] was something that we hadn’t approached yet on “Walker.” And it’s something that the real Texas Rangers actually get involved with: They do hunt down and investigate serial killer allegations. So it was a fun template with which to play out past traumas, [as well as this idea of] trusting those close to you and them trusting you back and getting out of your head.

I don’t want to say I suffer [from this], but I’m in my head a lot. Partially that’s my nature, just the way I was born; and partially that’s my nurture, being an actor. You have your script, you read it, and you’re like, “OK, now what can I add? What does this mean?” So I just spend a lot of time in my head, and oftentimes it takes somebody beloved that’s part of my circle to go, “Hey, you all right?” And I’ll be like, “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry, I’ve been kind of elsewhere.” So [I enjoyed] playing that role this season, and understanding how the rabbit hole of emotions in your mind can sometimes affect more than just you.

This iteration of “Walker” has always been about Cordell’s neverending internal struggle to find the right work-life balance. For me, he seems to finally recognize that he’s done plenty of great work as a Ranger, but he has yet to really fulfill his duties as a father, even though he is about to become an empty nester. What is your take on where we leave him in the finale?

Yeah, it’s exactly that — and kudos to Anna and the rest of the writing gang. It was a lot of what I was going through [in real life]. It’s a lot of what I’m going through now, having worked since I was 17 years old when I started “Gilmore Girls.” There are a lot of things that you miss when you’re acting — a lot of graduations, camp drop-offs, kids’ games, whatever. It’s a wonderful job, and I’m so grateful to have been able to do it for so long, but there’s a lot that you give up.

So I think where we find Cordell in the finale is exactly in that spot where he’s no longer anxiety- or panic-driven about having to do the next job, having to get up and find somebody to arrest or find something to fix or investigate. He has realized — much to the credit of Jeff Pierre’s Trey, Ashley Reyes’ Cassie, and obviously Coby Bell’s Larry James — that, “Hey, the world goes on without you.” I think Cordell was in his own head for a lot of the episodes, and afraid that if he wasn’t around, things would fall apart. I think he found a place where he is like, “The world was here before me. The world will be here after me. And what I need to do for those around me is spend time with them.” So he’s come to a realization that there’s more than just the next job.

I think it took him — I don’t want to call it rock bottom, but getting out of control with his obsession with the Jackal to realize, “Oh, wait, maybe I need to step away from this for a little bit, and when I come back, I’ll come back stronger and more clear headed.” There will always be another job, but the family is growing up. August is graduating, Stella is in college, and he and Geri are working through some stuff. So I think he realized that, “Hey, I need to put my energies elsewhere.” It’s told in TV form, but it’s a really universal lesson. Sometimes, just doing something different, just changing your routine, can open your eyes to not only the positives of the routine — but also the drawbacks.

The writers have put Cordell through the wringer over the years, but this is the closest that he came to dying. The idea of mortality becomes even more intense when you become a parent — and, in Cordell’s case, a widowed single parent — because you have to think about what you’re leaving behind for your children.

Great point. [My wife] Genevieve [who played Cordell’s late wife, Emily] and I talk about that all the time, as parents. I think this is one of the lessons that both Gen and I hope to give to our kids, and for them to grasp as well. As kids grow up — and even adults — they will often deal with and question: “Is what I’m doing right? Should I be doing something else? If I’m not important here, then am I important at all?” I think part of the reason Cordell makes the decision that he does at the end of the finale is to show his kids: “Hey, I know I’ve been doing this, and it is very important. But so are you. It’s not a ‘no, but.’ It’s a ‘yes, and.’” It takes courage to leave routine, to leave habits, and I think he wants his kids to know, “Hey, it’s OK if y’all have to pivot, if y’all have to change. Do what you know is right, not what you think other people think is right.”

Unlike some other shows on the bubble, you and the writers elected not to shoot an alternate ending. That means you’ve left the audience with a couple big cliffhangers: In addition to taking a leave of absence, Cordell is also planning to propose to Geri; and James Van Der Beek was going to play the Walkers’ new (and potentially nefarious) neighbor. Did you and Anna discuss what next season would have looked like?

Yeah, there was so much to deal with, now that Violet and Kale are both young adults. They’re not children like they were four years ago, both literally and metaphorically. So there was a lot that we were going to explore with them — like, how much the sins of the father can carry down to the progeny, and how much Stella and/or August had, unfortunately, [inherited] their father’s bad qualities as well, which we dealt with this year with Stella. She’s very much like her father in the good ways and in the bad ways.

But we were very excited to have James on the show. He’s a personal friend, and he lives here in Austin. It wasn’t going to be like the Walker-Davidson feud necessarily [from Season 2], and the fifth season was certainly not written by any means, but I think there was going to be a very interesting dynamic that Cordell was maybe not anticipating, because he was taking a backseat on his law enforcement duties. We thought that James and his crew were going to be maybe up to no good, and Walker was just blinded to it.

Walker was a “Hell yes” or “hell no” kind of guy; he was either all-in on something, or he was kind of oblivious to it. And that was good when he was all-in on a job or all-in on trying to work with his family. But it was bad when he was oblivious: “Oh, no, the kids are fine. I’m fine. They’re nice. Don’t be suspicious of this person, or that person.” And he kind of got stuck in his own head, as we all often do at times. So we were going to explore that.

Is there something that you would have personally loved to have explored further with Cordell, if you had been given more time?

Oh my God. How long do you have? I really would’ve done the show forever. I just loved my character. I loved that I got to be in Austin with my family. I loved my cast and loved our crew. Maybe this is what ultimately was our downfall, but we weren’t ever seeking like, “Oh, here’s the explosion. Oh, here’s the wild cliffhanger where the aliens come down. Oh, here’s the next hot reality star that comes in and takes their clothes off.” It was never about sensationalism. It was more about life. When Anna and I first talked about the show many years ago, one of the reasons [this reboot] was called “Walker,” not “Walker, Texas Ranger,” was because he’s a widow and a father who happens to be in law enforcement. It was an exploration of everything that life could have to offer — heartbreak, disappointment, shame, love, becoming an empty nester — and I’m worse than heartbroken that we are not going to get to explore all those storylines. 

You’ve developed a tradition, on both “Supernatural” and “Walker,” of being the one to deliver the news of a renewal or a cancellation to your cast and crew. How did that happen this time around?

Yes. I talked to David Stapf at CBS and Brad Schwartz at CW before the announcement was made. And when Brad and I were talking, he was wildly flattering of “Walker” and what we had done, and he has his directives as well. He asked me, “Hey, how would you feel if we release the news or if you release the news? Do you have a preference? You’re CW royalty. You’ve been here since Day 1. How do you want to do this?” I thought about it, and I was like, “You know what, man? I think it might be best if I go ahead and make the announcement.” He was like, “Cool. Just go ahead.” And I asked him, “Do you want me to send what I’m going to post to you first, or do you want me to just go and post it?” And he goes, “We know you. We love you. We trust you. You don’t need to double check it with me. Just go ahead and send it when you’re ready.”

It was not easy to see the keyboard on my phone through the tears in my eyes, but I was grateful that I was allowed to [do that]. So often, when these big announcements are made, it’s like, “OK, here’s what’s going to happen. Don’t say anything until 1 p.m. in three days because we haven’t called all the outlets yet.” It felt like a very human send-off to go, “OK, do what you need to say, and we will reiterate it.” It felt like a great part of the closure that I’m still seeking. 

Did The CW ever give you a reason for the cancellation? Did it come down to budgetary reasons? Do you know any of the particulars?

Yeah. I talked with the head of CBS and the head of Nexstar/CW, I talked with the other [executive producers] on “Walker,” and I think it was a multivariate kind of issue. My understanding is — and again, this is just what I’m told — that Nexstar is going in a different direction with The CW. I mean, they have an hour of “Trivial Pursuit” and an hour of “Scrabble” coming up. I don’t know why you wouldn’t just download the app or grab a board game and play with your friends, but they’re clearly just — what’s that great quote? It’s like, “If somebody tells you who they are, ask questions. If somebody shows you who they are, believe them.”

I feel like The CW that I was a part of last year is not The CW that I was a part of under [former chairman and CEO] Mark Pedowitz for that entire, almost 20-year stretch. They’re just changing the network around, where it’s not really going to be a TV network as much as it’s going to be, “Here’s something fun for an hour that you’ll never watch again, but hopefully you watch it. And it’s cheap!” And I hate to say that, but I’m just being honest. I mean, fuck it. They can’t fire me again. I’m just being brutally honest. I think it felt to me like they were looking for really easy, cheap content that they could fill up time with.

You’ve only had a few weeks to process the cancellation, but have you given any thought to what you will do next?

I left two days [after the cancellation was announced] to go to Europe for work and then for play. My wife and kids met me out there, and we took a little vacation that was already planned. It was strange, and it was both horrible and wonderful. It was horrible because I really wanted to grieve. I really wanted to sit there and grieve, and call my cast. But here I was, eight or 10 hours ahead of their time zone, and I couldn’t make a phone call to everybody I wanted to make. The texts would come in when I woke up in the morning, and I just wanted or needed a personal connection with everybody who I had worked with for so long. But it was great, because I had a lot of distractions.

But I haven’t taken a whole lot of time just yet to think about what’s next. I kind of said this at the end of “Supernatural”: I wasn’t interested in acting [again], per se. I do love producing. I love the production aspect, and I love the problem-solving that comes with it. So there are a few things that my wife and I are in the process of developing that I would love to produce and act in. But beyond that, I still feel like I haven’t grieved the loss of “Walker,” so I don’t know yet if I trust my feelings. That sounds like a cop-out. I’m so sorry.

No, that’s a totally valid answer, considering that you openly spoke about how you hoped “Walker” would last just as long as, if not longer than, “Supernatural.” It’s natural that you wouldn’t necessarily know where to go from here.

Yeah, I don’t want to disappear into the bushes by any means, but I kind of want to disappear into the bushes. But hopefully, at this point in my life, and much like Cordell realized at the end of Season 4, I need to take a good, long, hard look at my personal life and the time I spend with my family and my friends, and I need to stop being so aggressive and obsessed with work. I still want to work, but for now, you’ll find me in and out of the bushes, hanging out with family and seeing friends. If a project comes up and I don’t care about it, then money doesn’t matter. But if a project comes up and I love the story or there’s somebody I really want to work with, then all right, [I’ll do it].

One of the people that you presumably want to work with again is Eric Kripke, who already recruited your former “Supernatural” costar Jensen Ackles to star in his current show, “The Boys.” Now that your schedule has opened up, are you officially joining the final season of “The Boys”?

Well, I’ll say this: Kripke and I texted today. It’s not been written yet, but I think he was saying [the final season] doesn’t even film until 2025. So yeah, I’m going to go play in Kripke’s newest playground. I had a great time the first time around, so I’m sure I’ll have a great time here again. I love the show. I think it’s hilarious and exciting. But you were asking what my plans for the future were — and I love Jensen and Eric Kripke. Obviously, I’ll be indebted to [Kripke] and entangled with him forever. I met my wife because of him. I was Sam Winchester because of him. “Supernatural” happened because of him. So working with him on a show that I enjoy, I’m like, “Yeah, when do I fly out?” But I don’t think we would film until at least January. 

Your body of work has spanned so many genres, but is there a specific genre that you are looking to explore next?

I thought “Walker” was kind of a mixture of “Gilmore Girls” and “Supernatural.” It was a family show with excitement and stunts, and macro storylines married with the micro. You know what? There’s a script that I love, and if we can get it turned into something, then I’d love to be a part of it. It’s actually a sitcom, but not a slapstick or knee-slapping sitcom. It’s kind of like a family-esque sitcom. It could actually be an hourlong show that you’d kind of define as a sitcom.

One of the things I really enjoyed about “Walker” was the humor that I was able to try and bring to screen, because my characters on “Gilmore Girls” and “Supernatural” were more stoic and serious, and I am by nature a much goofier person than the characters I’d played for 20 years. It terrifies me, because I think I’m funny among friends, but I don’t think I’m a funny person. I just think I’m goofy.

I’d like to explore that. It’s scary. It’s something I haven’t done, and I think I’d be very intrigued. 

It seems very difficult for dramatic actors to make that transition to comedy.

It’s so difficult!

You’ve now starred in over 450 episodes of primetime network TV, which is no small feat. What is your biggest takeaway from the time you’ve spent on The WB and The CW? When you think back to your biggest aspirations when you began on “Gilmore Girls,” how did your dreams ultimately compare to your reality?

Yeah, it’s been a long time. I think there’s some form of the saying, “If I only knew then what I know now…” Oftentimes, [this is] such a cutthroat industry. I think I spent so long in my adult life trying to get to a point where I could live my life, where I felt comfortable, where I felt safe and secure. I love storytelling. I love storytellers. I love raconteurs. I love that friend we all have that can just talk for an hour, and you’re laughing, you’re crying, you’re interested, and you’re learning. I love being able to pretend to be one of those characters on screen.

But I think along the way, it feels like I really learned, “Hey, don’t work to earn. Work to learn.” And at some point in time, you’ve got to look in the mirror and go, “Hey, you’re working towards some ever-moving goalpost. Why don’t you try and enjoy it now?” I think that’s kind of where I sit now. We’re just about a month [removed] from the announcement that we weren’t picked up again, so it’s kind of funny how life imitates art, or art imitates life. What Cordell went through in the finale and what I’m going through now are mirrors. I’ll be 42 next month. Am I waiting until I’m 60 and I have 800 episodes of television or something? I have to live my life now. I’ve got a 12-year-old, a 10-year-old, and a 7-year-old. 

I think, ironically, in trying to tell somebody else’s story for so long, I’ve realized that my story has value too.

Variety

[thefallennightmare]

Moment of Weakness-one

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: I'm not too sure how long this series will be so let's just enjoy it!

Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @elizacusi-blog

The heels of my boots smacked against the hardwood floor as I hurried around the room, trying to finish my work. The setting sun had blasted its rays through the window, an indication that I had about a half hour left before the work day had ended and I was able to go home. 

Even though I would have rather stayed longer, with him. 

Part of me thought of going to ask him if he needed me to stay later tonight but that would require me going into his office and talking to him; something I had only done one or twice in the few months of me working here. 

Any time he needed something, he would either write a note and leave it on my desk or send me an email. We barely spoke to each other and if we did it was a quick good morning as he was walking in and a goodnight as I was walking out. 

He was always right behind me in the morning, both of us usually arriving at the same time but he would always stay much later in the evenings, long after I had gone home. 

Being New York’s top mob boss was a full time gig and it kept him busy. Which is why he hired me. When I first applied for the job, I thought I would be the assistant to a C.E.O or something. Needless to say, I had been shocked on my first day when I walked in and noticed who I was actually working for. 

His name was the hush gossip around town, his mob gang running the neighborhood I had lived in my whole life. It has been passed down from generation to generation. When he found out that I had lived here and remembered his grandpa running the gang before his father did, I had been hired on the spot. 

When I told the people in my life of my new job, they were worried for my safety. They reminded me that I could have gotten a job anywhere in New York, why did I agree to this one?

The pay was perfect, exactly what I needed to get by and then some, but the main reason why I accepted this job was because of him. It would have been a lie if I said I didn’t find him attractive. I had to keep reminding myself, though, that it was just a crush. Nothing more. 

Of course, I couldn’t help but worry on how I would be assisting him. But it ended up being the typical mundane tasks any assistant would have. Running errands for him, helping sort his meetings, taking some calls, deterring anyone he didn’t want to see or didn’t have a meeting away. There was only one person who was allowed to walk into his office freely. 

Her.

With a soft sigh, I packed up all of my belongings, the clock on the wall striking six in the evening, and the thought of sitting on my couch in my lazy clothes watching trashy television brought a smile to my face. 

The door behind my desk clicked open and I felt the warmth radiate from him as he walked out, a charming smile across his soft features. 

“Leaving for the night?” 

My eyes glanced at him and felt my heart begin to pound in my chest, the vibrations echoing up to my throat. 

I nodded. “Unless you need something else from me?” 

He shook his head, a smile still plastered over his face. It was almost as if he knew how much his smile made me weak in the knees. The hairs that had been slicked back when he arrived this morning were now a mess on top of his head, no doubt from him running his hand through it. With the light from the lamp on my desk, I could see the few gray hairs that peaked underneath the browns of his beard. 

He looked breathtaking. 

My eyes darted to his left arm, the black and gold vibranium catching the said before light and I had to force myself to look away, so I didn’t get caught staring. 

Except I knew I had because he hid his hand into his jacket pocket.

“No, you go home. Enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Have a good night Mr. Barnes,” I smiled with a red face at being caught. 

“I already told you, Y/N. You can call me Bucky,” he insisted. 

I smiled at my boss, James Buchanan Barnes, and while tossing my bag over my shoulder bid him a goodnight with a nod. I could feel his burning gaze on my backside as I walked away. 

I hummed a low tune while I typed away at the computer in front of me, the list of emails waiting to be sent. Bucky had made sure that this task was my number one priority today because the monthly meeting with the other two mob gangs that ran the other neighborhood around us was coming up. He wanted to make sure that those leaders knew what was going to be discussed before they would arrive that day. 

It had been held here at Bucky’s office for the last handful of years because of his reputation and position in the mob. He was well respected among the other gangs, their own leaders looking up to him. The reason for these meetings were to discuss business, of course, but also to make sure that everyone remembered who was in charge. 

A large presence was felt behind me but I didn’t have to look to see who it was. A smile pulled at the corner of my lips but kept my attention on the email I had been typing. 

“Need something?” I asked over my shoulder. 

The blonde smirked. “I’m just wondering when you’re doing the next coffee run.” 

I spun around in my chair, eyes glancing up towards the man. His beard had been a bit fuller since I saw him last week and his long hair was slicked back, his blue eyes shining bright. 

“Last time I checked Rogers. I’m not your coffee runner,” I joked while standing to my feet and gave his chest a pat. 

The firmness of it did not go unnoticed by me. 

Steve chuckled. “It’s Buck. He’s ready for his afternoon coffee with lunch.” 

I nodded. “Is he busy or can I pop in to get his order?” 

He held up a piece of paper in his hand. “I already got it. Bucky wants me to go with you.”

“Sam usually comes with me,” I raised a brow. “

Steve shrugged with his hands in his pockets. “Figured you could use a change of company.” 

I nodded, eagerly to spend some time with him. Steve was not only one of Bucky’s bodyguards but was also his childhood best friend. The two of them grew up together and while I didn’t speak much to Bucky, Steve and I found ourselves talking almost every free chance we could. There had been a few times our conversations had taken a flirtatious route, neither of us correcting it or changing it. What started off as fun was slowly becoming serious which confused the hell out of me.

Admittedly, he was very attractive as well but there was only one man that currently kept my wandering eyes, even if that’s all that it would come too. I wouldn’t allow it to become anything else because of her. 

“Bucky does know that I don’t need someone to come with me almost every time I run errands for him, right?” I spoke. 

Steve nodded. “He does but it’s company policy.” 

I playfully scoffed. “Is that what you think of me, Steve? Company policy?” 

There was a flash of something in his eyes and his tongue quickly darted over his lips. 

“You really want to know what I think?” Steve’s voice became heavy as he took a step closer. 

I met him halfway, chin raised up to him. “Yeah, I really do.” 

We stared at each other, gazes burning, and I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach flipped when Steve’s bottom lip got stuck between his teeth and I knew he heard me suck in a breath when he began leaning closer. 

Someone clearing their throat caused me to move away from Steve and when I saw who had caught us, my heart sunk. 

Bucky stared at the two of us, lips parted in confusion. “Am I interrupting something?” 

Steve sighed while shaking his head. “Always had perfect timing, Buck.” 

A red blush of embarrassment covered my body and I kept my gaze at my feet while the two friends bickered back and forth. I waited for them to finish so I could make the afternoon coffee run, hoping that the rest of the day went by fast. 

“James, you’re not going to believe who I ran into at the shops this morning.”

My head snapped up at the petite voice, eyes watching with jealousy as the woman placed a quick kiss on Bucky’s cheek. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Bucky mused. 

Steve nodded with a smile. “Hey Natasha.” 

The red head smiled back at Steve. “James keeping you busy?” 

“He’s actually letting me leave with Y/N to grab the lunch order,” Steve joked while looking at me. 

Natasha's gaze followed and even if her smile said one thing, the look in her eyes said something completely different: annoyance. 

“How are you, Y/N?,” she asked. 

I gave her my own fake smile. “Good.” 

It wasn’t news to anyone that Natasha wasn’t happy about Bucky hiring me, she wanting to be the only girl in the office but as Bucky told her many times, it was his choice and his alone. 

“Well, I have to fill you in on my morning,” Natasha returned her attention back to Bucky. 

My broken gaze watched as she cupped his cheek to lay a kiss upon his lips, the diamond on her left-hand glimmering in the sunlight. 

Steve noticed the way I longed to be in her position, so he gently nudged me. “Ready to go?” 

My eyes locked with Bucky’s for a second, a small glimmer mixed with the blue pool of his iris', before I had to force myself to look away once again, now staring at Steve. 

“Yep.” 

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulder and nodded a fast goodbye to Natasha and Bucky before leading me away from them. 

With our backs to them, I hadn’t seen the look Bucky burned into Steve, who still had his arm nestled on top of my shoulder. 

[ranposbabe]

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter 13

“Violet blue green red to keep me at arms length don’t work-

“Shut it !” The man barks, throwing the the knife against th bar. You’re too fed up to even flinch despite your back being pressed against the cooling bars.

“You’ve been mumbling that blasted song for the last hour now !

“Well what else am I suppose to do ?” You scoff, somewhat curious of any actual options of what else there was to do. Sit and rot away. Nothing new basically.

A sudden bang went off. So quick !

They’ve got guns. You were a fool to think that maybe they’d starve you to death or you’d just die really slowly when you no longer had the will to live.

As if you weren’t even in the room, he’s quick to leave to discover what exactly had caused such commotion. When he stumbles out of the room it isn’t long until you hear the commotion of yelling along with the sound of another bang. You somehow could make out the thud of something or rather someone hitting the floor. Curiosity killed the stupid cat.

The door suddenly opens and suddenly the room feels too occupied.

You slowly prepared yourself to turn around to look your killer dead in the eyes.

When people are moments away from meeting death, they typically think about their loved ones or what they did wrong in life but yours ? You’d actually kill for a drink right now. “If you’re going to kill me then you’re better off just doing it now-

You didn’t look up to face any of the men who took you. The man you now stared up at in worry and slight wonder was none other than William himself.

He stood there dressed in all black

If you thought the man’s outfits were unusual before this just proved it even more. William takes the keys in his pocket to unlock your forlorn cage. You’re suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of exhaustion, you don’t dare to ask any questions despite them all running through your mind.

“You’re not hurt are you ?”

You can barely shake your head as his words play over and over in your head. When was the last time you’ve heard his voice ? You’re still sat on the cold ground as he stands over you. You could’ve sworn this has happened before ?

His gloved hand reaches out for you to take and you’re rather hesitant in doing so. Maybe it was because you were cold but you’ve never felt so much warmth from another’s hand. Then again he was wearing gloves. “Are we leaving this place ?” You’re desperate for certainty and William grants it as he confirms with a nod of certainty as you hurriedly escaped the unfamiliar scenery.

When you both find yourself outside, you’re quickly welcomed by not the greetings but the sight of the others.

But it’s Albert’s smile towards William makes you freeze in your spot with realisation. You’re quick to let go of his hand.

You don’t look at anyone as you mumble a small thanks. You’ll be sure to show your gratitude once you’re certain you’re away from here. The sudden rush of embarrassment takes over you and tears almost spill but with a shake of your head they’re gone before they even appear.

Due to your circumstances, no one could blame as as you looked behind your shoulder, making sure that no others were accompanying you along with the others.

If something like this were to happen again could William and the others save you once more ?

Could they do it again ? Could William do it again ? You weren’t exactly hoping to find out. You’re slightly unsure when making your way to their carriage.

It was kinda funny before all this you’d never even been near one and yet you were nearly hit by one and kidnapped in another. What are the odds ?

You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t like before. William sits across from you as he loosely wraps a coat around your shoulders. You didn’t attempt to adjust it as it hangs loosely around your shaking shoulders. The coldness was starting to get to you.

Calm and collected. You were slightly intimidated to be the only one somewhat shaken by what happened. You were confused beyond. Had they done this before ? All of them were well composed even in such a situation like this.

William and his brothers share a certain look. Your eyes flutter shut as slumber slowly begins to take over. But before they did Williams sees the lifelessness still in your eyes. He understands it.

So many people have that look in their eyes just like you. Perhaps you’re just another one of the people William wants to see the light appear back into their eyes. Another reason to carry on with his cause.

As you got out of the carriage you couldn’t help but stand still as the fresh air felt so freely against your skin. As you placed your hands into the pockets your left hand was quick to retract as something unfamiliar touched your fingers. There was something in the pocket.

In your pocket something crumbled touched your fingers. You pull it out and inravell the piece of torn paper to find six words written. Your brows furrow in confusion. Not only are you confused by how the note has ended up in your possession but the six words throw you into more wonder. Simple words that threw you completely off guard.

He is the lord of crime.

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[thestalwartheart]

May I ask for 00q and a 💛 please

Hello my friend! Thank you for the prompt. This was such a lovely one to fill.

You can read the fill below or on AO3. 💛

After a weapons test goes wrong in Q Branch, Bond spends a moment dancing with regret.

relief.

One minute and seventeen seconds.

James Bond has lived through a lot. He’s lived through seconds that felt like years and years that felt like fleeting moments. He’s seen people suffer. He’s seen plenty of people die; killed some of them for duty, and loved others to their death.

So, a minute should be nothing. He’s held his breath for longer.

“Q.” With the hand that isn’t holding his jacket to the wound at Q’s head, he cradles Q’s chin. Blood slicks the path of his fingers, then sticks.

“Medical team are two minutes away,” says someone. Not Tanner. Not anyone useful.

“Tell them to hurry up. They can take the bloody stairs if they have to.”

Two minutes. Christ, Bond's only been here on the floor for one.

He strokes his thumb over Q’s mouth. His lips are blood red now, stained from Bond’s messy hands. They’re a grotesque mockery of their usual cherry red, that colour for which Bond has never found an equal.

“Come on, Q. Wake up.”

There’s a pulse at Q's neck. That’s positive. Breath, too. Even better. All good signs. None of them do much to quell the frightful adrenaline in Bond’s bones. It’s been there since he saw Q land badly after his fall. No, not a fall. The body-flattening shock from the blast which—

“What the hell happened to proper safety regulations?” Bond barks. The techs around him flinch, but he doesn’t spare them another thought.

Under his thumb, Q’s lips are moving.

“Since when were you an expert on health and safety, 007?” A warm puff of laughter comes from his lips, and Bond doesn’t waste another second.

The kiss tastes like blood and cordite, and Bond’s own blood rushes to his ears. His pulse is on his tongue.

This wasn’t how it was meant to go, not with Q. He was meant to take Q out to dinner, wine and dine him, and see him in a proper suit. There didn’t seem a man in the world more in need of sweeping off his feet than Q, and Bond had intended to rise to the occasion. But as always, as always, the universe sought to remind him there just wasn’t enough bloody time for all the things in the world he wanted. There was only time for this. This kiss. This moment, holding Q's bloodied face in his hands on the debris-littered, dusty floor of Q Branch.

Q hums into his mouth, then winces.

Bond pulls back. “All right?”

“Mm. If I’d have known on our last field mission together that this was all it would take…”

Bond remembers his and Q’s last mission well. It was three weeks ago now, though it may as well be a lifetime. They’d spent days under the bright, arid haze of Rome’s summer sun, where Bond had, for once in his life, turned down a blatant invitation to sleep with someone with no strings attached. Because Q wasn’t just anyone. And Bond was, frankly, finished with starting things under a hail of bullets that were only doomed to fail.

Regret settles under his skin now. He wishes he’d given into the delicate warmth of Q’s hand on his knee. They could have kissed at sunset with the Colosseum to their backs. He could have watched Q drink his fill of Chianti under the stars. Everyone believes Paris is the city of love, but Bond has always preferred Rome. Vesper once joked it was the memory of all those strapping Roman soldiers.

Gently, Bond strokes his fingers through the dusty, greasy, sweaty mess of Q’s hair. Unbelievably, it still looks intentionally styled. “Don’t. I didn’t want—you deserved more.”

“Oh,” croaks Q. “To hell with what we deserve.”

With a weak fist, Q grabs Bond’s blazer and brings him down for another kiss. And this time, Bond doesn’t wonder about the paths not taken. He sighs and kisses Q back. Q will live a long life if Bond has anything to say about it, but if they only have a minute left together, then Bond knows how he wants to spend it:

With love rather than regret.

[theazkabandreamer]

A New Man

A flash of light illuminated the corridor and the shrieks of terror from the portraits filled the air as two students clashed in a fierce duel. Lily Evans got the first year Hufflepuffs to safety.

As she got them out of harm's way, one of the boys asked her what Mudblood meant.

“Something that’s very nasty and should never be said to Muggle-borns,” she said solemnly, thinking of Sev for a moment before banishing him from her mind.

Just then, a hex ricocheted off the wall and brought a suit of armour crashing down. The Hufflepuffs covered their ears and Lily told them to run and yelled at the two duellists to stop.

Not wanting to get on Lily’s bad side, James Potter decided to end the duel quickly but Regulus Black had other ideas. Eyes full of malice, he raised his wand but James was quicker.

“Expelliarmus!”

Regulus’s wand spun out of his hand and hit a tapestry that caught fire, but Lily extinguished the flames with a wave of her wand.

James had his wand pointed at Regulus’s face and he was breathing heavily, trying to calm the white-hot anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach. But he had a face like thunder.

“Don’t you ever, say that word to the first years ever again,” he said in a dangerously low voice.

“What’s the matter?” Regulus smirked. “Are you too frightened to say the word Mudblood?”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!”

James’s outburst shocked Regulus who flinched and James was resisting the urge to hex Regulus, even though Sirius would approve and Gryffindor’s chances at the Quidditch Cup would skyrocket.

“You know what?” James said, taking several deep breaths. “You’re not even worth it. Your brother might pretend you don’t exist anymore, but I know deep down, he still cares about you.”

“Sirius doesn’t care about me,” Regulus scoffed. “He only cares about himself. He didn’t care that he broke our mother’s heart and got himself blasted off the Black family tree. As far as I’m concerned, I no longer have a brother and my family does not need Blood Traitors like you and Sirius.”

It took all of James’s self-control to not hex the younger Black on the spot.

“Speaking of traitors, you’re going to be betrayed,” Regulus said. “You know that, right? It's only a matter of time. You’re far too trusting, Potter and that merry band of brothers you might have formed can’t last forever. You’re a walking advertisement for betrayal. Soon, one of your ‘brothers’ will get bored of you and will leave you high and dry. We’re all taking bets in the Slytherin Common Room on who it’ll be. Snape is certain that it’s going to be Lupin. But me? I think it’s Sirius.”

“Get out of my sight,” James snarled, trying not to let his anger get the better of him again.

He summoned Regulus’s wand and gave it to him and Regulus scuttled away as fast as his legs could carry him. He stopped halfway and threw James a venomous look before retreating towards the direction of the Dungeons.

James stood there breathing heavily. There’s no way any of his friends would betray him. How could they? Not after everything they had been through together. He felt something light touch his shoulder and his entire body was covered by goosebumps.

“I thought you would’ve hexed him by now,” Lily said, removing her hand after James had stirred. “It’s what you would’ve usually done.”

“I wanted to,” James admitted, sighing and running a hand through his messy hair. “But in the end, he wasn’t worth it.”

“Who are you and what have you done with James Potter?” Lily asked, narrowing her eyes.

James laughed, despite the anger still bubbling within him. But that was dissipating by the second as he chatted with Lily.

“Maybe I’m just growing up, or deflating my head as you call it. It could be the start of a new me,” he said and Lily smiled at him, her green eyes shining in admiration.

“I think this new you suits you,” Lily said. “It’s like Professor Flitwick said-“

“Swish and flick?” James grinned and Lily hit him playfully on the shoulder.

“No,” she said, unable to contain the smile that spread across her face and lighting up her brilliant green eyes. “Practice makes perfect. You’re like a potion that needs time to stew. The best potions are the ones that have gained strength over time and it’s taken you years to fully mature. As a person and a potion.”

“You and your potions analogies,” James laughed, grinning fondly at Lily.

Peeves the Poltergeist suddenly appeared and started making faces at a portrait of a group of medieval women and they were shouting in outrage at him which caused Peeves to blow raspberries at them. James and Lily watched with amusement.

"Thank you for looking out for those Hufflepuff first years," Lily said. "No one deserves to be called a Mudblood. Even though you did duel in the corridor and magic is forbidden in the corridors."

"Are you going to report me, Evans?" James asked with a hint of his signature smirk.

Lily was quiet for a moment and she bit her lip in concentration. James waited.

"No," she said after a minute's silence. "You didn't hex him like you would've done a year ago. Maybe you are changing, like you said."

James felt as if he could fly around the castle without a broom. He started to think of something mature and witty to say but couldn’t think of anything and decided that silence was the most mature thing in this situation.

“Well, we’d better get some dinner, I suppose,” Lily said after Peeves got bored and disappeared through the wall.

“I’m not hungry,” James said as his stomach gave a loud rumble.

“You could’ve fooled me,” Lily said, rolling her eyes and the two of them went down to the Great Hall with James feeling fifty feet taller.

[lastbluetardis]

🎵 your tenrose AU ideas: 🌟🥰🤩😳🤯❣️ so big brained. i’m getting chills just by imagining each scenario. chills chills everywhere. feed us—and i mean ME—some more. pleaseeee. 🙏🏻

I'm glad you're enjoying this silly little game! I'm having a blast with it!

Song: Exile

AU Idea: God, this is a hard song to give a happy ending, but I'll do my damndest 😂 Most of this story would be quite angsty. It would be a story where James and Rose were lovers but had absolutely piss-poor communications skills, along with their own individual demons and insecurities that royally fucked-up the relationship. Rose didn't think James cared for her or their relationship as much as she did, and she tried over and over again to hint to him that there's an inequality in the relationship, and he needs to do *something* to let her know he's all-in too. But the signs go way over his head because he's a dumb, oblivious boy, who is actually very much in love with Rose, but isn't as showy or flashy with his devotion. His love is deep and quiet, like wading forward in the ocean and it's suddenly deeper than you thought.

The relationship was spiraling for quite awhile, and James somewhat noticed it but figured it was the usual bumps and hurdles of any relationship. Until one day Rose packs her bags and leaves, ending it. She gets into a rebound relationship that she ultimately doesn't care about, but she wants to hurt James as much as he hurt her with his inaction. And James is devastated, now thinking that Rose didn't care at all about their relationship if she was able to move on so quickly.

Years pass, and both of them are trying to move on, but can't help but internet-stalk each other every once in a while (usually after they've had a few drinks) to see what the other is getting up to. They watch each other fall in and out of relationships that don't last longer than a few months. But they never contact each other directly, because they're both certain that the other is over what they'd had.

Until they meet in person when a mutual friend of theirs gets married or something. They mostly avoid each other at the reception, apart from some lingering gazes and awkward closed-mouthed smiles of acknowledgement. As the night carries on, they're both steadily getting drunker, and in their drunken state, they get over-confident and stupid. James approaches Rose, unsteady on his feet, and slurs that it's a great party. She hums in agreement before knocking back a shot.

"Let's dance," he blurts, "for old time's sake. Eh? What's the harm?"

There is a lot of potential harm, but Rose is too drunk to think of them, so she agrees, because as much as she's resented him these last few years, she missed what they used to have and what they could have been. Being in his arms again is more wonderful than she'd remember, and holding her is more wonderful than he'd remembered. They slow dance, which is more of an uncoordinated back-and-forth swaying.

The alcohol is hitting Rose hard, and she rests her head on his chest, just like she used to, and all of the old hurt and anger resurfaces until she blurts, "I really fucking loved you, you know."

James, thinking the alcohol is talking, rolls his eyes and says, "Uh huh. Tell that to Rickey."

"Mickey."

"Whatever. Took you all of forty-eight hours to move on. Sure sounds like true love."

"Just because you didn't give two shits about what we had doesn't mean I wasn't allowed to move on in whatever way worked best for me."

She pushes away from him and storms off, out of the party because even though she's drunk, she knows better than to make a scene and ruin her friend's wedding day. She's almost to the lifts when she hears running footfalls behind her.

"I didn't give two shits about the relationship?! You just left! You gave up and you left!"

"Because you didn't care! For months I was begging you to do something, to show you wanted me, to show you cared about us, and you did nothing!"

"Bullshit! You never said a word until the day you left!"

"I told you about how fun a trip to the shore would be! I asked if it sounded romantic to go dancing somewhere! I showed you photographs of a little house we might be able to afford together! And you... you ignored everything!"

James barely remembers any of that, and doesn't understand why she's bringing up those moments, because that isn't even what they're fighting about. (Why are they even fighting???) When he says as much, Rose throws her hands up and says he's so useless and can't even take a hint.

"Take a hint? Take a hint??? You were feeling like this and all you gave me were hints????"

He's furious and devastated and so, so confused at the possibility that the best relationship he ever had ended because he didn't understand Rose's style of communication.

Rose is suddenly realizing what had happened all those years ago, and she's suddenly mortified to realize everything that happened was a stupid misunderstanding that had been blown out of proportion, and she hates herself, and, just a little, hates him too, but mostly she hates the world and how stupid they all are.

"Forget it," she mumbles, but he catches her wrist and pulls her toward him. She's as close as she was when they were dancing, and she smells the booze on his breath but also the cologne she'd loved so much on him. His eyes are dark and hungry, and he licks his lips, making them shine, and God she's missed him.

Before he can ask, she pulls him down by the lapels and crashes their mouths together in a sloppy heated kiss that feels better than any kiss she's had. She groans when he sucks her lower lip into his mouth the way he always knew she liked, and he moans when she scratches his scalp in the way she knows he loves. Things are getting heavy and heated and they're still in the corridors by the lifts, but neither of them seems to care.

When they come up for air, he rests his forehead to hers and whispers, "You were my one true love. And I never wanted to lose you. And I didn't know what was happening. I'm sorry. Can we try again?"

She hugs him tightly to her and says, "I'm so sorry too. Yes. I want to try again with you. See if we can get it right this time."

They do.

Send me a 🎵 and I’ll shuffle my Taylor Swift playlist

[metalbrojack]

beem thinking about being james girl in like 1986 ans he forces you to go pn some lengthy ass road trip. james would love it but you would hate it😭

I personally love road trips but I’ll do it!:3

James hetfield x fem!reader

Genre- fluff!!

You wake up to James plopping a bag onto the bed, “oh no.” You mumble, already knowing what’s about to happen.

“Come on get up we’re going somewhere!” James says, a bit too enthusiastic for 9 in the morning to be honest .

You groan and pull the covers over your head, “I wanna stay home.”

James doesn’t care, he pulls the blankets off of you and carries you to the living room. He sets you on the couch with the rest of the luggage for the long trip ahead.

~time skip ~

After you guys ate breakfast you start your long day, you sit in the passenger seat and watch the other cars go by, “where are we even going?” You ask James.

“I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise.” He replies with a cheeky smile. It doesn’t take too long until James is blasting his music on the radio, loudly singing along. And of course it’s Black Sabbath .. war pigs to be exact so almost eight minutes later you finally catch a break.

You do eventually start to get grumpy and annoyed, pouting and huffing angrily. James catches on quickly, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. “I promise it’ll be worth it sweetheart.” He tells you, trying to lift your sour mood.

First rest stop. A gas station in the middle of nowhere. James fills up the car with gas and you get out, “I’m gonna grab some snacks, you want something?” You ask him *man it feels good to stand*

“Can you get me a slushy? Please and thank you.” He replies quickly, turning his attention back to the car.

You go into the gas station and grab some snacks and a drink for yourself before getting James’s beloved slushy.

Back on the road. The slushy was a mistake by the way. James is now high on sugar and his lips are stained a bright blue.

Another rest stop because.. “I have to piss. Really bad.” See, slushy was a bad idea.

You stay in the car this time, you hated everything about road-trips. The drive, the stops, the way James gets more hyper than ever… well not so much the last thing. He gets quite cute honestly.

Back on the road again… you decide to take a nap to make it go quicker. Apparently that works, you wake up to James shaking your shoulder, “hey sweet girl… we’re here.” James says, his voice soft and soothing.

You open your eyes and see your at the beach, it’s beautiful and definitely worth the drive.

“Wow…it’s beautiful James.”

“I told you it would be worth it!”

You guys had a good long vacation to say the least.

//////////////

Heyyy! That was longer than I expected tbh. I tried to drag it out so it seems like you’re actually there<3

[lovableapocalypse]

Lilac Wine | bassist!remus x fem!reader

wc- 2.3k

warnings- swearing, remus being stupid, angst, arguing, smoking

a/n- ik in my last post i said they rarely fought but this will be one of those rare fights... idk why i was craving to write some angst & drama so bad lol. anyway def expect some fluff soon tho!

Everything hurt. Your insides felt leaden and intolerable to your own bodily functions. Maybe you were being dramatic, but it was true. You had rushed from work to surprise the band after their show tonight. They were playing about an hour’s train ride from home so you made the impulsive decision to at least be there for the afterparty. Now you were fully regretting it. 

Sadly with Friday traffic you were later to the party than you’d originally wanted to be. A smile was still plastered to your face upon your entrance, just happy to see Remus again. The venue security was pleasant and you bumped into the boy’s photographer Alice on your way in. 

“Alice!” 

“Oh my God! No one told me you were coming!”, she shouted. She pulled you into a hug and she smelled of white wine and a pretty floral scent. Her cheeks were flushed and she was bright as always. 

“I decided to surprise Remus after work”, you smiled. The place was alive with bodies and sound. Nicotine and weed wafted throughout the place and a heavy pop remix was blasting through the speakers. 

Alice returned your smile and pointed towards the DJ booth. “The boys are over there I think”, she was practically shouting at you and you laughed at her tipsy self. “Thanks!” you returned. 

You moved past her and waved at a few familiar faces you saw. You spotted James first, banging his head behind the booth shouting suggestions at the poor DJ. You laughed at his incoherence and noticed Sirius not far off. He was stood on the other side of the booth, glass raised, nodding his own head along. You still hadn’t spotted Remus, or Peter for that matter. Your gaze spun as you searched the crowd for your boyfriend’s tall figure. 

Your search was cut short by a familiar yell, “No shit!” James shouted. You spun back around laughing, and he made his way over to you. His obnoxious shout had caught Sirius’ attention as well. He smiled and followed his best mate. James leaned down and picked you up into an embrace. A yelp of surprise left you and you held onto him as he spun you around. 

“Thank God you’re here- I’m going mad”, he whispered to you. A small laugh escaped you as he placed your feet back onto solid ground. Sirius moved James out of the way and pulled you into a hug. Your smile grew and you were thankful to see them again. 

“Don’t know how we went this long without you”, Sirius said into your hair. You pulled away, “Please, you two are so dramatic.” 

“It’s true”, James sighed and wrapped his arm around Sirius’ shoulders. They smiled at you and Sirius raised his glass outwards, pointing, “Remus said he was getting a refill at the bar.”

“Thank you”, you smiled sheepishly. Despite knowing the boys for longer than you hadn’t, your relationship with Remus still made you foolish and raised a flush to your cheeks. 

You turned and pushed through the crowd of people to the bar. Remus occupied your gaze. You smiled and stepped forward when a woman approached him and placed a drink in front of him. He smiled his thanks at her and she sat next to him, too comfortably. As if she was resuming a paused conversation. She spoke to him with a large smile upon her face and he was nodding along at her words, sipping from his newly replaced drink. Your first instinct was to think nothing of it, she could be a journalist or an aspiring bass player herself. You were secure in your relationship but that didn’t stop the possessiveness either of you felt from existing. 

She was beautiful. Her blonde shoulder length hair was shiny and neatly styled. Her dress was tight but not revealing and her overall composure oozed confidence. You’re debating approaching when she laughs a bit too loudly and leans into your boyfriend’s space, placing a gentle manicured hand on his bicep. Your eyebrows pinch as you observe the scene unfolding in front of you. 

Remus could be oblivious to people’s attention at times. You’d often come home laughing at the shock on his face when you explained someone was indeed flirting with him earlier. You desperately wanted this to be one of those times, but Remus’ blush was evident and his smile was sheepish- a clear indicator he was being consciously complimented. He continued to nod his head at her words, a small laugh escaping him. 

You felt your jealousy and insecurity flood through you, a lump forming at the back of your throat. You knew nothing would ever come of this conversation, but you were hurt he was even indulging in her at all. Her hand was still rested on his arm, her fingers fiddling with his tee as you so often did. You felt frozen in time. Everyone moving around you, yet you were stuck here watching them. 

As you watched them converse your anger only built. She twisted her body towards him, legs bumping his. He looked away from her, finishing off his drink. You were still unnoticed and your hands were clenched by your sides. You looked away, eyes burning as your feet moved towards the bathrooms. Breathing felt difficult and your vision was becoming more and more obscured from your unshed tears. 

You bumped into a large figure accidentally and they gripped your shoulders. “Woah, what’s happened- why are you upset?” Sirius questioned rapidly. He was always deflecting with sarcasm but when true vulnerability arised he was always there for you. He stared down at you and you felt the first tears slip down your cheeks. “It’s- it’s nothing. I’m just going to leave” you whispered.

“It’s obviously not nothing” 

You shook your head and shut your eyes trying your hardest to hold yourself together. He moved his grip to your arm and looked around the place- searching for an exit. He pulled you along to a side door and out into the chill night. 

“C’mon what’s got you crying, you’ve only just got here”, he soothed. 

You shook your head and released a very unfunny laugh. “It’s stupid, really”, you tried to downplay. Sirius sighed. He knew you were avoiding sharing your feelings. “We’re going to stand here until you say what’s got you crying when you should be having a pleasant night.”

“Remus is sat at the bar with a very beautiful woman. And she’s very clearly flirting with him.” 

Sirius sighed and pulled you into an embrace. “I’m sure he’s oblivious to it as always.” You shook your head against his chest and felt more tears slip down your face, “I thought so too, but he was all flustered and giggly. I mean I could even say he was flirting back.” Sirius rubbed up and down your back and you felt him shake his head. 

“You know he would never do anything, love. He loves you too much. We all do.”

You nodded in agreement, “I know, I just don’t understand why he would even let her flirt in the first place, let alone get in his space as well.”

Sirius pulled away and searched in his pockets pulling out a cigarette. He handed it to you and dug around again for a lighter. “He’s an idiot that’s why” he said as he fished out his light. He lit the smoke for you and you took a large drag. You blew out the smoke looking upwards as you felt your cheeks dry in the crisp air. 

“That was my last smoke, let me go fetch one off James. Don’t move”, he pointed at you. You nodded and heard him move back inside. You smoked and were kicking at the gravel when you heard the door open again. You glanced over your shoulder but didn’t see who you were expecting. You quickly moved your head back around as Remus stepped fully into the back lot of the bar. You tried your best to ignore his presence as you heard him move closer. 

He came into your peripheral as he stood shoulder to shoulder with you. You refused to look at him and you felt that painful lump in your throat return. You looked at the ground again and felt him move his hands into his pockets. 

“Sirius said you were upset”, you felt his eyes on you. You said nothing as you continued to smoke. “When did you get here?” He questioned. “I missed you”, he added. 

“Not much apparently”, you shot back. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His voice rose slightly. 

You put the barley existent cigarette out on the pavement and braved a look at him. “Why don’t you ask the lovely blonde at the bar?”

He sighed and moved his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “You don’t mean that”, he sighed. 

You scoffed, “Yes I do Remus.”

He sighed your name and reached for your arm. You quickly moved out of his grasp and felt the tears build again as you spoke, “Why the hell were you flirting with her? Have you really reached that point of boredom or something?”

“What? No. I- I wasn’t flirting with her. She was at the show and came over to speak to me. That’s it.”

You gave him a bored look, “You weren’t flirting with her? So what exactly was I watching you do back there?” 

“I- we were just talking”, he stuttered. “Why are you reading into this?” He was getting frustrated. 

You two were facing each other now and you could feel the tension growing. “Reading into this? The first thing I see when I come to see you is a woman draped over you playing with your sleeve, getting you drinks, and batting her fucking lashes at you. How am I supposed to read that situation?” 

He scoffs again and looks away from you. “I don’t know what to say here.”

“So you were flirting with her?” You feel the tears leak down without warning. “Why?”

He has the humility to look ashamed as he answers, “I don’t know.” It was practically a whisper. Tears are streaming down your cheeks now and you’re jumping to many conclusions. “Do you always flirt with women when I’m not here?” 

“No, god no.” He shakes his head adamantly. “I don’t. Ask the boys. I don’t know why I did that tonight.”

You let out a small cry and he moves towards you. He hesitates as he reaches for you and grabs your forearm softly. “I don’t”, he reiterates looking into your eyes. 

You’re beyond upset and you can tell he is feeling guilty. His eyes glaze over and his waterline fills as he inhales sharply looking skyward. You feel another surge of anger as you harshly question him again, “So, what? You just wanted to see if you could still pull? Maybe we’ve been together too long. I get it. Something new is enticing, hell, we’ve been together what? Almost 5 years now- maybe we’re too comfortable. If you’re over this just say it.”

You were angry and feeling insecure. Your first instinct was to push him away and give him an out if he was truly feeling doubts in your relationship. You had known each other for nearly 12 years and you knew deep down he would never end your relationship with infidelity, or end it at all. 

“You don’t mean that and you know that’s not true”, a few tears spilled over his cheeks as you looked away from him. A sob escaped your chest as he gripped your arm tighter, pulling you into him. He pressed into you as you cried. “I’m sorry”, he kept whispering into your hair. 

You don’t know how long you stood there upset, but eventually you pulled away. Your eyes were puffy and you moved out of Remus’ grasp and sat on the curb nearby. He followed and sat beside you grabbing your hand in his. 

“I can’t tell you why I let myself flirt with her, but it was meaningless and I’m so sorry. It was stupid and useless.”

He squeezed your hand and you looked over at him, “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know”, he nodded. 

You put your head on his shoulder and exhaled. 

“I would never get bored of you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You closed your eyes. You knew he was being truthful and you knew he made an irrational mistake but you were still hurt. You squeezed his hand and placed your chin on his shoulder. He kissed your temple. 

“Can we please just leave?” You whispered. 

“Yeah, c’mon”, he stood and pulled you up with him. He pulled out his phone and shot a text to the boys and ordered an uber. 

The ride was silent. You gripped each other’s hand, but you stared out the window the whole drive. You quietly made your way to the boy’s hotel and up to Remus’ room. You walked in ahead of him and sat on the end of his bed. Your hands were in your lap as he pulled off his shoes and rubbed his hands through his already messy hair. He sighed and sat beside you. He looked at you and you returned his gaze. 

“Don’t ever do that again. I swear meaningless flirting is not worth this Remus.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“It’s okay, but I want to be able to come see you and not have to question your intentions with people. I haven’t ever felt like I have tonight with us and it was miserable.”

“It was”, he echos. He looks tearfully at you and places a kiss on your forehead. “You mean the world to me, and I mean that wholeheartedly.”

You nod and cup his face in your hands. You search his eyes and rest your forehead against his. He moves closer and places a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you”, he whispers onto your lips, “forever.” 

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Prequel fanfic - Gone Girl part 2

Morning light was starting to appear on the horizon. Tessa, still in her disguise, sitting at the helm of the stolen company van. She had on the radio to keep her awake, blasting rock songs from centuries ago to keep herself awake.

J had fallen asleep in the passenger seat while N was in the back using the sleeping bag he had brought along for Tessa to use.

Tessa pulled up to a gas station and hopped out, putting on a monster mouth face mask before heading in to pay for petrol.

J started to stir, awakening to see Tessa enter the gas station. She was surprised that it wasn't a dream, and that they were on the run. N was in the back, giggling in his sleep, dreaming about being licked by puppies.

J rolled her eyes and slightly smiled, yes she was stuck with the "corporate losses" but, if it made Tessa happy, that's all that mattered.

Tessa returned and started pumping the petrol into the van's tank. She had intentionally taken the gas-powered car as it couldn't be tracked as easily. She hopped in once she was done filling it up, accidentally waking N as she closed the car door.

"Morning Tessa," N yawned happily, "Where are we this morning?"

J scolded warningly as she threw an empty coffee cup from the front seat at N, "Hey bozo! Her name is Maxxine!"

The young disguised Elliott girl admitted proudly, "We're 357 kilometres from home." She then softly scolded to J, "Please don't throw coffee cups at my robot,"

Tessa started the car up again and drove for a while longer until they reached the outskirts of a city. She pulled the car in-between some RV campers outside of a large box store and urged gently, "I am going to get some rest. You two, I need you to guard the van while I rest, alright?" She pulled off her wig before hopping into the back of the van beside N. Tessa instructed, "I want you to wake me up at 6:00pm, we will then go to a local club for youth. We will meet someone there who can get us to a landing pod."

J froze in shock at what Tessa was implying. "We are leaving this planet?"

The girl who was currently going by Maxxine sat up and nodded, admitting sadly, "It's the only place Mother and Father can't catch us, Jay-bird..."

N looked down sadly, he didn't want to leave. His voice hitched slightly as he rambled, "Wh-what about Cyn, and V, what about them?"

Tessa's eyes welled up too, she didn't feel right about it either, she explained, "It was a risk bringing you two with me as it is... But... it's less likely that we will get caught this way... It's for the best, N."

J sighed before lightly bopping N over the head, "You heard Maxxine, she knows what's best, and we need to respect her wishes."

N felt really worried but hushed up, sitting next to Tessa to be there while she slept, while J watched out the windshield, keeping an eye out for any trouble. Meanwhile back at the Elliott Manor, chaos was ensuing as Mr and Mrs Elliott couldn't find their daughter. James scorned as he got off the phone with one of his employees, "When we find her she's not going to be allowed to leave the manor grounds for a year!"

Louisa sat on a fainting couch, distraught over her only daughter having run away. She glanced up as she saw Cyn hobble into the room. "Oh god, not the little creepy robot." "Giggle," Cyn monotonely greeted, "I think I know where your daughter is."

James took his fancy cane and held the handle right up to Cyn's throat. He ordered aggressively, "Tell me where she is and I will spare your life, toaster."

Cyn let out a monotone laugh as she beeped, "She h-headed out last night, she ran away to try to escape. I th-think possibly sh-she was headed for space."

James lowered his cane and got back on the phone at his desk as he dialed out to the dispatch for the JC Jensen company guard, "I want you all on the look out for my daughter, she headed for the coast and she is trying to run away. If you see her, bring her back, and destroy any drones she has with her."

To Be Continued

[seriouslysam8]

He is startled awake by the ringing of his cell bars... He doesn't even know how long he's been here... Days. Weeks. It could have been minutes for all he knows.

He groggily realizes someone is talking to. Something about his master not even being able to finish the job correctly. That couldn't be right he doesn't have a master.

his musings are cut short when something smacks him in the face. He peers at the offending object and blearily readreads the headline stating "THE BOY-WHO-LIVES RETURNS HOME" when he's jerked into attentiveness by the picture on the front page

It's Harry... His Harry. But that can't be right Harry's only a toddler.. This Harry is way too old. Before he can make out more of the details the paper is suddenly ripped out his grasp.

Nooooo he tries to scream but it comes out more as a whimper.

The guard finds this funny for some reason as he snarls at him "you'll never lay a finger on the boy. You failed, you piece of scum." He then hears a clanging as the unknown guard walks away.

The preceding nights are the worst he remembers as he continuously relives the worst night of his life.

He's sprinting up the steps. Not even processing the blown apart roof. All he sees is the door blasted off its hinges.

He immediately comes across the first body and collapses immediately.

"Nooooo" he able to scream this time. "James what have I done!! It's all my bloody fault".

He's jerked outta his self loathing because he just knows he needs to see the confirmation of his greatest failure.

As he stands up he whispers "we'll see each other soon Prongs. I promise you that."

He doesn't know how much longer it is but he's thankfully pulled from the nightmare of reliving finding James' prone body next to the couch by the rattling of his cell.

He blearily stares up at his cell door when he recognizes Moody and no that's not right nymphy is a little girl. And she'd never look at him with such disgust.

But no it's not Moody or even his little cousin that grabs his attention. It's another newspaper headline but this time it proclaims loudly "HARRY POTTER MEETS FAMED GILDEROY LOCKHART!"

He reaches out as if it's a lifeline. He's older this time but he can tell it's been a year maybe two this time. He whimpers out a soft "I'll find you Harry".

"not on my watch you wont black" Moody sneers.

If he thought his dreams were bad after the previous newspaper he was sadly mistaken. It's as if the dementors could sense the new happiness inside him

He doesn't know how but he's able to drag himself up the stairs.

Another door blasted apart. "oh Lils why didn't you take Harry and flee. It's all my fault."

He collapses the second time that night next to the body of his sister. The person who knows him better than anyone besides James. The one who understands his terrible family only like someone who can because of shared experiences.

He can't even muster a cry of anguish this time as hot tears cascade down his cheeks. He doesn't even immediately feel the frigid cold November night air against his skin.

It's the soft voices this time that wake him from his self hatred. He's not even sure why he asks for the newspaper he sees the man holding. He deludes himself it's for the crossword, like he could possibly solve it in his current state. But it's definitely not for the infinitesimal chance to see his godson on the front page.

He does a quick glance at the front page and sighs in disappointment when he doesn't see Harry. He barely registers the story on the bottom with a picture of smiling happy family before he angrily tosses it into the corner.

Why was he being so stupid to think he would actually see Harry again.

It's hours later or maybe it's days or weeks who knows in this godforsaken place he definitely deserves to be in when he finally gives the photo at the bottom more than a passing glance.

He doesn't know how long he's staring at the photo trying to convince himself of what he's actually seeing.

"there's no way. He was never quicker than me. My curse hit him." But there's no denying that rat sitting on the boys shoulder is THE RAT. the rat that betrayed them all.

He should have known better than to think his nightmares couldn't get worse after seeing his godson for the first time in the previous articles. Since when did things ever work out for him. He's a Black for crying out loud. Nothing but destruction followed his wake. So in a twisted way he knew he deserved the horrors that awaited him that night.

That's when he finally hears it. The whimper that would haunt him forever. The whimper of his godson calling for him "pa'foo!!"

He's on his feet and at the crib and picking Harry up in an instant. Every other thought immediately leaving his mind.

He's so focused on consoling Harry he doesn't even see the blood trickling down his forehead

"ssshhhh Harry. It's ok. I'm here kiddo. Sirius is here buddy." He knows he's lying to the kid but he knows he needs to be strong for him.

He carefully hides his godsons face in his neck as he carefully steps over Lily to take him downstairs and away from the horrors within.

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