#or 13 if it turns out 10 is just too damn long

[boiohboii]

The Spaniard's Wife (Carlos Sainz x wife!reader)

Inspired by @charles-eclair16 's fic

Carlos Sainz had a secret for the past 9 years, but when he forgot to take off the one thing that can reveal everything, everyone has questions

or

in which Carlos let's everyone know that the rumors, in fact, are true

masterlist

N.B: didn't turn out how I wanted but I've been rewriting it multiple times and I think this is the best option, hope you like it...WARNINGS: swear words a lot, not proof read, spelling mistakes and really bad photoshop tbh, if I missed anything please let me know!

Faceclaim: Emeraude Toubia

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris and 910,583 others

Carlossainz55: my wife and I have been friends for 20 years, we have been lovers for 13 of those years, engaged for 2 and married for 9. I have never been sure of much, but I am sure that I love her with my entire heart, I will always love her. I have known yn since before I could even dream of being an f1 driver, what happened in that one interview was disrespectful and just disgusting. No one has any right to speak any ill word of my wife, you don't know her and you never will, as long as she doesn't want you to. I will do everything for her, for her happiness, her comfort and for her ease of mind.

landonorris: tell yn I miss her!

Carlossainz55: leave her alone

landonorris: I'll tell her that you're rude to me

Carlossainz55: she's my wife!

landonorris: yeah yeah, you never let us forget it

username: yn been here since day 0 apparently, can't fight her now

username: YES!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS!

username: I want dts to make a reincarnation of their love story

username: we need a spinoff

username: yes! It'd be so cute

username: I can't imagine 16 year old carlos realising he is in love with his friend

username: she is every man's wet dream

-this comment has been removed-

username: she looks so pretty wtf

username: she's looks like a doll

username: wish i looked like that at 20 years old

username: her dress is phenomenal

username: this screams money

username: 2 different cars for a wedding

username: the third slide, holy shit

username: I wouldn't be surprised if the last 2 pictures are carlos' or her house, like holy fuck

username: both scream rich

username: mum used to say rich people look it and I never gave it much thought until I saw carlos sainz and now his wife

username: did y'all see the picture that one twitter user took? Their outfits looked so fucking good

username: YES! I SAW IT! I could never afford a thread on either outfit!

username: did you guys see her hair! It looks so thick and healthy

username: fr!

username: I want a wedding like that!

username: I want a husband like that!

username: I want a wife like that!

username: I love how he is not in one single picture 💀😂

Liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, Pierregasly and 1,209,316 others

Carlossainz55: 10 years since i was able to call you wife, and I will never get tired of letting everyone know that. I am in love with you, forever and always.

Charles_leclerc: simp

Carlossainz55: I don't know what that means

landonorris: ikr, it's laughable man @.Charles_leclerc

Charles_leclerc: don't pretend like you're not the same with your girl @.landonorris

username: damn charles really coming for everyone's neck today

username: bet charles is the biggest simp of them

username: he really making us feel lonely as hell huh

username: 10 fucking years, Holy shit!

username: no cause if I had yn by my side I too would be in fucking love

username: don't embarrass yourself, everyone knows you're in love without her by your side

username: I didn't ask to be attacked like that wtf

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Logan Howlett/Fem mutant reader)

Chapter 1

(A/N): btw this takes place in an alternate universe where the x men as a team don't really exist, but the members and mutants obviously still do. readers powers are similar to atom eve from invincible, if you haven't seen that show i highly recommend it, but if not, you don't really need to know any of that to understand readers powers, they'll be explained in more detail later on.

Summary: You've spent your entire academic career trying to hide who you really are, your goal to end up working in a small museum or archive and live the rest of your life going unnoticed. The first day of grad school you meet someone that sparks something deep inside you that you never thought existed. Your history professor, Logan, makes you feel things you've never felt from someone before. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or will you get too close and risk him knowing who you really are?

Warnings: 18+!! explicit sexual content, minors DNI!! pls!!! oral (fem recieving), logan being a munch lowk, oral on the couch, teasing, dirty talking, cursing, logan being an asshole professor, no use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3,208

You anxiously rub your forehead as you struggle to find parking on campus, circling and circling the lot. Finally, someone pulls out and you turn in aggressively, someone in front of you flips you off, probably eyeing the same spot. You’re late. Very late. You have an American Civil War class, it’s an advanced level, with a professor whose name you cannot remember for the life of you. You’ve been preoccupied this summer, and time escaped you before you got the chance to research his credentials. It’s your first day of grad school and you’re late. A long commute, a new college, and shitty parking. You hope to god the professor doesn’t care or notice when you slip in late, as you carry a specific kind of disdain for drawing attention to yourself.

You were 13 when you first noticed something was wrong, walking home alone from school when a stranger tried to pin you down and do god knows what to you, until your eyes glowed a deep fuchsia and you threw him across the alley with a strength you didn’t even know you had. Your veins began glowing the same pink color and pulsating, scaring you shitless. You ran to the woods behind your house, avoiding your family for fear of harming them. With enough practice over the years, you’ve learned to control your abilities. Your eyes only glowing occasionally when you’re especially frustrated or angry. Sometimes even when you’re…taking care of some sexual urges. While you don’t know what causes these powers, you do know the general population’s feelings about mutants enough to understand that no one can know what you are. You don’t keep boyfriends for longer than 3 months, you don’t let friends become closer than you need them to be, and you don’t tell anyone what you are. You just want a normal life.

Your forehead is slick with sweat by the time you arrive at the history building, your breath heavy and labored, not from how fast you were walking to the building, but from anxiety, which is also the source of the excessive sweat on your brow. You cannot recall this courses class size, and you damn yourself for forgetting to check; not knowing if you can slip into the large class quietly or if everyone will be able to see you come in. This isn’t undergrad where people stumble in hungover with 10 minutes left of class, this is a graduate program where people go on to become masters in their fields of study. And you’re going to look like a fool in front of everyone. You approach the door to the classroom and can see through the window that it is, in fact, a small class. Fuck. There are maybe 15 people in there total. You hold your breath as you attempt to quietly push the door open, but it fails you with a loud, obnoxious creak. Every head snaps towards you, including the teacher, and you offer a meek smile to your classmates and turn your head towards the professor to issue a brief apology. You swallow hard when your eyes land on him. his tall frame is leaning against the white board, a little scary looking with muscles that bulge against his crossed arms, peaking out from under his rolled up sleeves. You’re surprised they’re visible even through his plaid button-up. His hair is fluffy, dark, as well as his beard…or actually, you should say mutton-chops, as that would be a more accurate descriptor. He glares at you, and you swear you’ve held his gaze for hours, but realistically it’s only been no more than a few seconds.

“Sorry,” you offer timidly.

The professor nods lightly, his jaw tense, and waves you off as he continues addressing the class. You attempt to quietly maneuver to an empty seat in the back, trying your hardest to not trip over your classmate’s bags and chairs. You feel like it takes forever to get to your seat, hoping no one pays too much attention to how clumsily you scoot past the chairs and over obstacles. You try and settle as quietly as possible, unzipping your shoulder bag and retrieving a pen to take notes. He’s still going over the syllabus, thank god.

“The only homework you’ll have is an essay, every week—every Friday—you have an essay due. Then every 3 weeks you’ll have an exam,” he instructs, rather nonchalantly. “And while I don’t give a shit if you waste your money and don’t come to class,” his eyes suddenly are fixed onto you, you swallow a lump of anxiety lodged in your throat as he continues, “The school cares a helluva lot more so, if you don’t mark your name down on the attendance sheet, you forget, you’re late, or whatever the hell, you’ll be absent. I’m not going back in and fixing shit.”

Noted. He turns his gaze back to the rest of the class and continues talking about the curriculum for the rest of the semester. you try to keep your head down as you scribble notes into your notebook, trying to look busy, when in reality you want to kick yourself in the face. You left your apartment too late, you didn’t anticipate the amount of traffic on the interstate, and you conveniently forgot how terrible parking is on college campuses. You look up to see the professor checking his wristwatch with a furrowed brow, like he’s considering something.

“Alright, that’s all i’ve got today, get out,” he commands, his gravelly voice showing slight indignation.

There’s a general look of confusion around the room at his abrupt dismissal with 45 minutes left of class. As people begin to shove their belongings in bags, you quickly get the memo as you collect your notebook and pen in your hands and stand up, ready to depart from this nightmare as soon as possible. But you’re the last in your row, shoved into a corner. the line of people in front of you have their chairs pushed back to the wall as they slowly collect themselves. It takes an obnoxiously long time for you to get out from behind the the long row of desks, even longer to leave the class as everyone shoves their way past you and out the door. Finally, you find an opening, but before your foot can even reach the threshold, there’s a strong grip on your arm. You turn your head to meet the gaze of your professor. Your heart skips a beat as he maintains eye contact briefly, before he hands you a piece of paper and lets go of your arm.

“Find your name, mark it,” he directs, causing you to scramble for the pen in your hands as you scan the paper for your name.

You try and offer a polite smile to the professor, but he remains stoic and unamused, making you feel even more uncomfortable. Once you find your name, you ungracefully set the paper against your flimsy notebook for structure, and scrawl a shaky check mark next to your name. You offer the paper back to him.

“Here, thank you, um, professor…” you trail off awkwardly, forgetting that you never actually checked what his name was. He takes the attendance sheet from you.

“Logan,” he answers.

“Ah, thank you professor Logan—”

“No,” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “just Logan.”

“Logan, right. thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his tone far from indicating the typical politeness of the statement, and rather literally cautioning you to never bring up this act of kindness again. And with that you turn to leave the class, unsure of why this gruff, sturdy, serious professor bended his own personal rules just for you. But no matter with that, you at least know you’ll never be late to his damn class again.

***

You pull into the driveway of your house with a sigh. It's late, the time you prefer to get home, so you can fully relax and use your powers in peace. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, you still fear someone will mistakenly pull into your driveway and catch you flying into your second story window or creating an apple from nothing. The lack of sound, except that of the chirping crickets and cicadas, puts you at ease. You release the tension in your shoulders and float off of the ground, propelling yourself to the patio on the second story of your house. You unlock the door with a flick of your wrist, the fuchsia energy encasing the doorknob and letting you into your bedroom, you then toss your things down onto the floor. An exhausted groan escapes your lips as you face plant onto your cool, soft bed. Not even coming up for air when you fling your arm up and slam the door shut with a pink, crystalline whoosh. You turn over to face the ceiling, your eyes fluttering shut within the comfort of your bed. Longing to get out of your stuffy jeans and bra, you trail your hands over your body and watch as your clothes dissipate into a pink flash while you manifest some boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt. Finally comfortable, you slide under the covers, wanting to sleep off one of the most stressful days you've had in a while. A morning full of classes, then 5 hours interning at the museum, before finally finishing off your day at the convenience store down the road working a 6 hour shift. While you can create most anything you want with your powers, you cannot create the full nights sleep that you most desperately need right now. 

As you drift, you think about how embarrassing of a morning you had. Stumbling into class like a fawn learning how to walk, Logan directly looking at you when speaking about attendance, Logan shoving the attendance sheet in your face so you mark yourself as present, Logan's strong arms and the way they looked with his sleeves rolled up. Logan's fluffy, dark hair and--No. Shut up. Don't think about that, he's your professor for god's sake. And, more importantly, an asshole. No amount of muscle or sheer sexiness will distract from that fact. You repeat this fact to yourself as you doze off, not wanting to give in to immature thoughts of attraction. Despite falling asleep to the negation of that attraction, your subconscious drifts somewhere you know you shouldn't physically go.

You're in Logan's office, your ass perched on the edge of his desk. Logan's back is to you, locking his door and drawing the blinds. He turns to you, his stance almost primal and animal-like, like he can't wait for the chance to devour you. The thought of that causes your arousal to swirl deep in your stomach. Logan saunters towards you, bearing his lower teeth like a predator ready to take their prey. Your breath hitches in anticipation as he gets closer, causing you to spread your legs, hoping the clear view of what lies beneath your skirt will draw him in closer. It seemingly works as he closes the distance between you two, his waist now flush against your lower stomach. Tingles shoot down your spine at the sudden contact, blood rushing down to your pussy. He pants as he brings his hands to your waist and strokes up and down the sides of your body, then achingly slow up your neck, then finally stopping at your chin. One hand creeps to the nape of your neck where he lays his palm flat while the other pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating that he's close to having his way with you. He holds you there for a beat, his face so tantalizingly close to yours that you can feel his breath against your skin. You whine gently when his lips teasingly graze your own. The fingers pinching your chin adjust slightly to grip your jaw instead, allowing him better control to tilt your head up towards him. His other hand, at the nape of your neck, travels upward allowing his fingers to gently rake through your hair until he roughly takes a fistful and tugs. A soft moan escapes your throat and you try to satiate the throbbing pressure between your legs by rubbing your thighs together. An amused huff leaves Logan's lips as he looks down at your squirming figure beneath him.

"You gonna be good for me, princess?" he asks in a low, gruff tone as the hand on your chin trails down the side of your neck before landing on your breast. He massages the flesh fervently, finding it harder to hide his own desperate arousal and need from you. You moan into his touch and arch your back into him, your pussy searching for more friction that Logan is expertly avoiding giving you by not allowing his pelvis to meet yours.

"Logan," you gasp.

"C'mon, baby," his voice soothes, like smooth velvet, "tell me you want it."

"I want it," you whisper, desperately seeking any sort of release.

"Good girl."

And with that, Logan removes the hand on your breast so he can aggressively hook an arm under your ass and easily hoist you up with one fell swoop. Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, reveling the feel of his palm that covers your asscheek. With a growl Logan spins you around and throws you onto the couch in the corner of his office, barely allowing you a second to recover when he crawls on top of you and captures your lips with his own desperately. The kiss is aggressive and needy, tongues dancing together ungracefully, teeth clashing, hasty lip bites between kisses. His hips grind against yours roughly, causing you to hook both your feet around his ass to keep him there for as long as you can, desperately seeking more friction. His hands alternate with each other between grasping your breasts to gripping your face passionately. Without breaking the kiss, he hooks his arms under you and drives you further up the couch so your upper back lays against the armrest. You whine when his lips leave yours, but it's quickly replaced with a moan as his lips travel down your neck, chest, the stomach he exposes by lifting the hem of your shirt, biting the fabric at the waistband of your skirt. You squirm underneath him, anticipating what's gonna happen next as his face nestles between your legs. He licks, bites, sucks, and kisses the skin of your inner thighs, causing you to gasp with each harsh move of his mouth, before promptly melting into a moan when he alleviates his biting or sucking with a kiss or flick of his tongue. Your clit is throbbing, your pussy aching for him to get closer to your center. So he does. His tongue dances along the edge of your panties, not dipping much further into the fabric, his head alternating between each of your lips. You whine desperately as Logan's mouth hovers above your core, his hot breath teasing you further. He looks up at you and into your eyes as his mouth latches onto your thinly clothed pussy, causing you to squirm and moan underneath him, the already damp fabric from your arousal, getting further soaked from Logan's saliva.

"Logan," you whine fervently. "Please."

His mouth leaves your pussy, just barely hovering above it now.

"I gotta make you want it, princess, it's no fun unless you're begging for me to taste you," he breathed against your pussy, his voice low and syrupy. He quickly resumes the hold his mouth had on your pussy, making your back arch off the couch with a moan.

"Okay, I'm officially begging, please, Logan, please," you whimper, not sure how much longer you're able to take his teasing.

"Atta girl," he rasps against your pussy. Like nothing, his fingers hook around the fabric of your panties and he rips it off of you with an experienced strength, leaving your pussy now exposed to Logan, and your torn lace panties on the floor.

"So wet for me, huh?" Logan teases through a cocky smile. You squirm more underneath him, causing his hands to move to your hips to hold them down. Logan stares hungrily at your cunt, removing one hand from your hip and bringing it to your pussy lips to rub it tantalizingly slow with his fingers. Flicking his eyes up to meet yours, he finally brings his tongue to your folds and licks up to your clit. You moan throatily and bring your hands to his hair to give it a tug of appreciation. He groans enthusiastically into your pussy, eating at it like your core is the forbidden fruit dripping in molten pleasure. He's animalistic in his movements and noises, lapping at your clit with groans and grunts in pleasure, almost growling even. He brings his fingers to your core, tracing the hole before shoving two digits inside of you. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them with each push inside. The noises are lewd and wet with each drive of his fingers. Your moans grow more desperate and needy as you climb towards your climax, the death grip you have on his hair growing stronger and stronger. The hand holding your hip down crawls up to your breast, grasping desperately at your flesh, hastily circling your nipples with his thumb. Your breaths quicken, your eyes flutter shut as he continues the steady onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and fingers. 

"Logan, I'm so close, don't stop...please..." you trail off, beginning to lose yourself in your pleasure. Logan responds with needy moans against your clit and the continuous pumping of his fingers in and out of you. His grip on your breast loosens to grasp your side, slinking down to your waist, definitely leaving a mark with how rough he grabs at you. As his lips and tongue continue lapping you up, you can feel your arousal swirling in your stomach more and more. Your moans grow louder, your hips begin bucking. Logan groans into you, desperate to feel your release around his fingers. White hot pressure forms around your clit as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, you look down at Logan and lock eyes with him just as you feel yourself dropping off.

The feeling of hot pink fire pricking your eyeballs jerks you awake, mid-orgasm, your eyes glow a pulsating fuchsia. You pant heavily, your orgasm ending unceremoniously against your fingertips. Leaving you disappointed. You huff in annoyance, wishing you could plunge yourself back into the wet dream that ended in a rather mediocre way. No, wait, that was your professor. You shouldn't be feeling, or thinking, this way at all. You feel disappointed in yourself for having such lewd thoughts about another person, especially a person of authority. You catch your breath, turn your head to face the clock on your nightstand and gasp when you see the time.

"Shit, shit, shit," you curse, hastily throwing yourself out of bed. "Please don't be late today."

(A/N): and that's that!! i hope people enjoy! this concept popped into my head earlier today so i've spent my sunday working on this, if people are interested to see where this goes, please leave a kudos or comment!!! TYYY🫶🏻🙈 i also posted this onto my ao3 here if you would like to view it there and keep up with it there as well!

[issdisgrace]

FAMILY DINNER

WARNINGS: None

Another week, another family dinner. I don’t even know why I have to attend to these damn things. I got better things to do. I sigh as I enter the manor. Making my way to the dining room, knowing everyone would be there already, considering I’m 5 minutes late. Walking into the dining room, there is everyone as expected. I take note that next time I should be 10 to 15 minutes late rather than 5 minutes, so I can just eat and leave.

“Look who finally arrived.” Bruce says everyone’s attention turning to me. 

“Fuck off. You’re lucky I’m even here.” I say as I go to sit down next to the short stack. Of course, they would sit me next to the short stack. As I sit, the talking amongst one another continues up again. I pull out my phone to check if Roy responded to my text about going bowling and getting plastered this weekend. Of course, he didn’t respond yet. God, I wish it didn’t take literally fucking hours for him to reply to one text. Sighing to myself, I switch over and text Y/n. 

‘When I’m done here, can we go out and get drinks? I already feel like I’m going to one or four.’

‘I have a business meeting at 7 tomorrow that I have to get up early for so unfortunately no, but I can go out and grab you whatever.’

‘Ok. Could you get me a bottle of the good Russian vodka?’

‘Sure. Do you want anything else?’

‘No.’

‘Alright.’

I turn off my phone and place it down on the table. I go to listen to everyone else conversations when Damian asks,

“Todd, why are you wearing a wedding ring?” His question causes everyone to stop talking and look at me, leaving a oh so lovely silence. Great, I didn’t expect to be telling everyone tonight I was married. I guess it’s been a long time coming.

“Because I’m married.”

“What!!” Everyone exclaims.

“Since when.” Dick asks.

“Since a year ago. After being with my partner for 3 years.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Bruce speaks up.

“Well dear ole dad. I didn’t tell you guys I was dating anyone because I didn’t need any of you snooping into my life. Then I didn’t tell you I got married because I didn’t need you guys snooping into my life.”

“Pretty valid.” Tim says, looking up from his phone. 

“That’s what I thought too, Tim tam.”

“Rude, we just want to know if who you’re seeing is good for you.” Dick says.

“They are good for me and Alfred already approved of them, so do with that what you will.” 

“Alfred knew.” Dick practically shouts.

“Yes, I did, master dick. ‘’ Alfred says, coming out of practically nowhere with dinner. 

“I don’t know why you’re surprised dick, Alfred knows everything.” Tim said. 

“Well, does Alfred know everything about the person Jason’s married to?”

“I know quite about Master Jason’s husband, but I wouldn’t say I know everything about him.” Alfred says as he begins placing food in front of everyone, one by one.

“Husband!!” Dick exclaimes.

“Oh no, I’m married to a man.”

“He didn’t mean it like Jason. It’s just a little shocking.” Bruce says 

“I don’t care what way he met it…” 

“What is his name Todd?” Damian asks cutting me off. 

“Why do want to know, short stack?”

“I am curious as to who in their right mind would date or marry you.” 

“Oh fuck you. If you really want to know who I’m married to so badly, I’ll tell you guys but after that I’m going to eat and go home and you’re not going to bother me, ask me questions about my husband, or stalk my husband and do a background check on him. Alright.”

“Alright.” Most of them respond.

“His name is Y/n L/n.”

“Isn’t he an actor and like 40?” Tim asks.

“Yes, and he’s not 40, he is 38.”

“Damn.” Dick says.

“You got a problem with it, dick head.”

“No, he’s just what 13 years older than you.”

“Yes, and I don’t care. He loves me. He helps patch me up when I need help. He cooks for me. He gets me anything I want. And the sex is good, so what more could I want or need?” 

“We didn’t need to know the last part, Todd.” 

“Well, count your blessings that I didn’t say what we did.”

“Thank you for sparing the details, Jason.”

“Your welcome, old man. Now I’m fucking hungry and want to eat and go home, so no more questions.”

“Alright, Jason and we will respect your on not stalking, running background check, or anything of the sort on your husband. Right boys.”

“Right.” The others respond.

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 18

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: The aftermath...

WC: 2.9k

Within minutes, there are first responders barreling into the house. Luca watches as they load all four of the Schemmentis into the ambulances. They pull out with their sirens blazing. If any of the four are still alive, Luca can’t say he thinks they’ll be alive much longer. He shot all of them point blank with no sort of struggle or fight- a clean shot. There’s almost no way of any sort of survival. This secret was going to die with him.

“Sir, what were you doing here?” one of the officers asks as she squats down to attempt to console the young man.

“I was just coming to visit my aunts and their daughters before they went off to school!” he cries out. They don’t know he’s lying- and his tears are real ones. He can’t believe he just did that. “I- I don’t know who would want to hurt them! Esp-“ he gasps for breath as he grapples with true fact that he hurt those two sweet girls who always run up to him for ‘Unca Luca hugs’ whenever they see him for Sunday family dinners. “Especially Cat and Rosie!”

They manage to coax the rest of the story out of him, and because he’s so clearly devastated, they don’t even suspect him as the one who took down the Schemmenti family.

But Luca knows the truth. As he climbs into his car and away from the scene, he calls Tommy. He wipes away his tears and sniffles away any emotions that are inside of his body. Almost like a switch, Luca flips back into the cold, stone hearted man that the mafia family knows.

“It’s done. Don’t ever tell me to do anything like that again,” he hisses into the phone. “Never again.”

You blink, or try to. Your eyes are heavy and there's a garish white light that makes you close your eyes once more. There's a dull, constant beep to your left. You want to say to whoever to shut it off but you can't bring your mouth to open. The best you get is a pitiful, quiet, groan.

“If you're still in there, Y/N, I suggest waking up a bit faster.” A voice drawls at your right. 

You blink again. This time your eyes open a bit more, enough to see more than just the damned fluorescent light. You at least get a ceiling tile or two before your eyes shut again. The beeping is pissing you off more than the voice had. Though you don't really know why just a voice made you tense. Or why tensing hurt so much. 

With an effort, and a series of blinks against the light of the room, you finally open your eyes completely. Your eyes roll to the left. A monitor is the source of the incessant beeps. It takes your mind a long moment to recognize that it's your pulse the beeps signify. Maybe you don't want that beeping turned off.

Your eyes slowly roll back to the ceiling, and the blinding light. They slide until you're looking to your right. Agent Danik sits in a chair, watching you with an expression you can't decipher. Or maybe you do want the beeping turned off. 

You try to ask what happened but you struggle harder with trying to speak. If getting your eyes open was difficult, speaking feels impossible right now.

Agent Danik leans forward in her chair. Elbows on knees. “You were shot.” She explains, almost softly, without you asking. “You were in critical condition for a while, don't push yourself too much.”

Your brow furrows. Shot? The last thing you remember was your eyes peeking open in the dark of your bedroom. Both your twins climbing into your bed. One of them actually climbed over you to get to Melissa. You can't remember which one. You couldn't possibly have been shot. Your home was safe. 

The memory hits you like a tidal wave. You try to quickly sit up but your body refuses to let you. Instead the pain jolts through your whole body. The beeping increases drastically at the side of your head in time with the racing of your heart. 

Danik is out of her seat, her hands gently on your shoulders to keep you from powering through the pain to get up. As if you could. Adrenaline might get you a ways but the amount of pain pulsing through you is still excruciating even with the pounding of blood through your veins.

“They're alright!” Danik says quickly, looking in your eyes that have been shifting wildly in your panic. She tries to get you to focus on her, to breathe. “Listen to me. Melissa, Cat, and Rosie are still alive, alright? They're alive. You need to breathe and calm down. Stop trying to get up, you're just going to make yourself worse.”

You sink back into the hospital mattress, doing your best to steady you're breathing. When Danik pulls her hands away from your shoulders, you grasp one as quickly as you can. Your eyes focused now, you look at the agent. You try to convey your questions in the look alone. Alive is good but how are they?

“They're still fighting.” Danik answers. In rare form she grips your hand back in a squeeze. You don't know when you found enough connection with the federal agent for there to be sympathy and compassion. Maybe getting shot does that. “You're the first one to wake up so it's hard to know where they're at. But they're alive, okay? They're alive. Considering the situation; that's a miracle itself.”

Your heart rate slows just slightly. They’re alive- but if you’re the first one…

“Congratulations though,” Danik tells you softly. “The four of you are legally dead… and out of the mafia and mob situation.”

You peel your eyes open again to look at her.

“Shaw is in Melissa’s room, and the girls are in the pediatric ICU with two other federal agents. I demanded that if and when they wake up, I am informed immediately so we can start the process of moving the four of you out of the city as quickly as possible.”

You manage to get two words out. “Mel’s room.”

Danik knows exactly what you want, and what you want is to be in the same room as your wife. She nods, eyes as soft as you’ve ever seen them. They wheel your bed and all of the equipment into her room. Shaw is sitting dutifully by Melissa’s side.  You’re close enough to the redhead that you can just barely reach your hand over and take hers in your own. And then you finally let your eyes close again, and you fall back to sleep.

Danik and Shaw glance to each other silently as they watch your heart rate monitors start to sync.

“I’ll give the two of them one thing… they sure do love each other,” Shaw mumbles. “And those girls.”

“I know we’ve been after them for quite some time, but… I hope they make it out of this okay,” Danik confides in her partner softly.

“Agent Danik getting soft,” Shaw teases and bumps the woman’s shoulder.

“And if you let anyone know, you’ll be the next one ending up in ICU care.”

They sit with the two of you in wait until either you have to be wheeled back to your room, Melissa wakes up, or one of the girls does. Neither of them wants to admit that death is still a very real possibility for all four of you though.

Melissa, it turns out, is the next to wake. Hers is a much less chaotic scene than yours. Perhaps aided by the fact that when she opens her eyes it's to see you in the bed next to hers with your hand lightly gripping her own. When she turns her head just enough to see the agents sat in chairs against the wall it takes a few blinks before her voice works. 

Shaw is nearly half out of his chair, uselessly asleep since his partner is still in the room with him. Not exactly required to be watching for any movement or sign of waking from Melissa under that circumstance. Danik sits next to him, tapping away on her phone. Melissa sees you in the tense set of the female agent's shoulders, the way she doesn't doubt the woman is tapping away at work emails. It reminds her how you were always head in your work, with the salon or otherwise. She sometimes had to remind you you were sitting at the dinner table and could relax; stop thinking about work altogether.

“The girls.” Melissa finally gets her voice to work. 

Danik glances up from her phone. “They're fighting. We don't know more yet.” She relays.

“The second it is safe to travel; I want us on the way out of Philly. The four of us.” Melissa demands. “I don't even care where.”

Danik offers a rare smile. “Trust me, Melissa. We want that even more than you do.”

“And Danik?” Your wife calls when the woman looks back down to her phone. She waits until the agent looks back up to her. “Youse better find whoever the hell did this.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” Danik teases lightly because they already have every intention of doing just that.

“‘M serious. I know a guy,” she hisses.

“Still as feisty as ever,” Danik chuckles quietly. “Even after being shot point blank in the chest.”

Melissa’s eyes widen.

“I have to say, your large chest size may have saved your life,” the agent tells her. “Shot in the chest, and both your girls and your wife were guarded with blankets and pillows.”

“The- the girls were shot?” Her breath catches in her throat.

The agents face falls. “Shit. Uh, yeah. They’re not out of the woods quite yet.”

Melissa’s heart rate picks up, and the monitor picks up on that. It’s getting faster and faster, and Danik rests a gentle hand on her shoulders in hopes of calming her like she did you.

“Take a breath,” Danik orders. “Can’t have you going into cardiac arrest now- not after you fought this hard.”

Melissa’s eyes drift to yours. She squeezes your hand softly.

“And… you don’t know any guys no more,” the head states. “You’re legally dead, and so is the rest of your family. No contact with anyone from this life- at least not until La Cosa Nostra falls and all of those who are out to get you are gone one way or another.”

“No one? Not even-“

“Not even your own mother.”

“What if something happens to her?”

“You can’t risk it,” Danik tells her seriously. “You were quite literally on death’s doorstep once. Are you really going to tempt fate again?”

As your wife goes to answer, Danik’s phone rings to life. Shaw jolts awake and falls to the floor at the loud sound.

“Danik.”

“The girls… the one is awake. The other, they fear she isn’t going to make it.”

“I'm on the way.” Danik rushes out, quickly hanging up. “Stay here” She says as she steps over Shaw. “If I see one of the two of them somehow walking around I'm going to blame you, Shaw.” She adds on her way out the door. 

The male agent picks himself up off the floor, claiming his chair once more. He clears his throat at Melissa looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Please don't make me actually fight you to stay in bed.” He finally murmurs.

Melissa laughs despite it being hoarse and weak. “Only ‘cause I feel exactly like you'd imagine from being shot in the chest.” She relents. “You ever been? Shot?”

Shaw nods. “It hurts like a bitch, huh?”

“You could say that again.” Melissa sighs, protected from the knowledge of the twins’ conditions for the moment. Her eyes close again with the decision not to press her luck and try getting up. That and your hand in her own. 

“Hey, Shaw.” Melissa says after a long moment, without opening her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Ask her out already, hey? You stare at her like you're a puppy, y’know.” 

Danik hurries to the pediatric wing of the hospital. Not that she can do anything medically but this is her case, after all. With the two women fairing relatively well, at least for the moment, she figures it might be best to put her attention to their daughters for now.

She checks with the medical staff, verifying what she'd been told before. Then, she slips into another hospital room. She expects to be hearing a commotion of some sort. The begging for parents. But it’s quiet aside from the beeping of the monitors.

“Go sit with Shaw for a bit.” She tells the agent in the room before she pulls a chair up to the bedside. The little girl in the bed is definitely awake. Though an oxygen mask is fitted over her face. Little cheeks are wet with tears though she isn't crying anymore.

“Hey,” she greets softly. “You're Rosie aren't you?” she waits until she sees a little head nod. “I know it's got to be scary waking up somewhere you don't know all alone. And I'm sure you're hurting.” 

Another little nod, very quick this time, forces Danik to pause. She reaches to press the call button, in case the agent in before her hadn't to alert the medical team Rosie is awake. She won't let the little girl suffer any longer than she has to.

“I'm a police officer.” Danik says, simplifying her job for Rosie. “You know what that is, right?” Another small, more timid nod. Danik hesitates. Based on the way their lives were up until about yesterday, she isn't sure what the former Schemmentis taught their kids about law enforcement. 

“Did your moms teach you that police officers help keep you safe?” Another nod has Danik breathing a little easier. “Good. Because you are safe and so are your moms and your sister. I know it's scary but you're safe. I promise.”

Rosie chokes out a sob. “I want Cat.”

Danik mulls over in her head how she should handle this situation. “Cat is in another room, and she’s getting the care that she needs.” The woman only hopes that’s true. “Cat is fighting, just like you are.” She strokes a few stray tears away from her face.

The little girl just nods. Before Danik can say anything else, doctors come flooding into the room. The entire time that they tend to the little girl, Danik holds her hand. She gently runs her thumb over the little girl’s knuckles in hopes of soothing her even slightly.

Rosie is given pain medication, and she slips off to sleep mere minutes later. That leaves Danik to find her way into Cat’s room.

It’s much more solemn. The only sound in the room is the slow, yet steady, beep of the monitor that shows that Cat’s heart is still beating. But it’s slowing… only at forty beats per minute now- an alarmingly slow rate for a child her age.

Danik glances over to the agent who is stationed at the older twin’s bedside. The agent just gives her a slight shake of the head, and Danik can tell it’s wearing on this agent. The worst part of the job is having to watch a child pass… and it’s seeming that that’s where Cat’s fate is heading.

The head of this case shoos the agent out of the room before settling into the chair next to Cat’s bedside. She takes the little girl’s hand in her own, much like she had her sister. And then… for the first time in a long time, she bows her head and she prays. She prays for this little girl’s recovery. Cat shouldn't have to pay the price for what her mothers were involved in. Cat should have a long and prosperous life ahead of her- days frolicking through parks and giggling on the swings, days of cuddling with her mothers and feeling all of the love in the world. Cat should be given a second chance to live an innocent life.

It doesn’t quite register to the federal agent, but she’s crying as she prays. Tears slowly trickle down her face, and she doesn’t quite notice them until there’s a wet patch on her dark blue pants. After another long moment, the agent wipes her face with the hand not grasping Cat's smaller one. She stays with her head bent until she feels a bit more in control. She leans enough to kiss a little forehead. 

“That's from your moms and your sister.” Danik whispers, gently brushing back wisps of stray hairs. “They're fighting for you, like you are from them. You're safe now, Cat. Nothing like this will ever happen again. You just have to get better and then you and your family are going somewhere safe. Together.”

The agent stays at Cat’s bedside for a long time, unwilling to leave her alone. She doesn't know that she’ll pull through but she hopes she will. To see all those days she is entitled to. Especially now that there isn't a significant danger intrinsically tied to her family's lives.

[killxio]

Eren x caribbean gf headcanons 🙏

wanderlust | e. yaeger

word count: 1,440 [5 min 13 sec read] | ✪ content warnings: facesitting, six nine, handjob, eren using y/n like a face mask, he’s a munch in this (all hail the munches)

eren x reader / eren x black!reader / eren x carribean!reader

✭ drabbles of eren and his pretty beach bound girl. ( ps, sorry for taking so long anon. side note, everyone and their mama is jamaican, so the reader in this is not jamaican. trinidad and tobago i’m side eyeing you too. sorry not sorry, we need representation for other islands. )

eren absolutely gets himself into trouble just to hear you yell at him. he thinks it’s so fucking sexy, especially when you notice his hard-on and yell more.

the way your accent tends to come out when you’re angry just goes straight to his dick, mans can’t help it.

“woooii- ya make mi blood clot, eren! round with ya friends, can’t give nuh call or send mi text den tiptoe in the damn house like a ninja. ya can’t answer when me fa call ya name?”

he’s between your legs and you’re scolding him, finger pushing his big ass head around. he’s been out for a few hours later then he said he would, then came and snuck up behind you in the bathroom as you’re doing your hair.

yet all he can do after he’s put you on the counter is smirk down at you. he grabs you finger, guiding it down his chest and silences your complaints with a kiss.

it’s when he leads your hands low enough that you break it.

“jesus eren. you’re fucking nasty,” you shame, your american tongue coming back.

“no keep yelling,”

“ya fa be ‘shamed a-yaself.” you scold, trying to hide your smirk, brushing your fingers over his buldge.

eren takes u to the most luxurious parts of your home possible, he knows how much you love your families native country.

in college, he works his ass off to take you home atleast twice a year at fancy resorts or luxurious airbnbs.

as he gets older and more successful, the trips get better and more frequent.

your 10 year anniversary gift? him buying you a home at home.

eren finds the way you eat fruit with no fork adorable. he loves your brown doe eyes staring up at him accompanied by your sticky mouth.

“what?” you question, looking up at eren from your beach chair, mango in hand.

“nothing baby,” he smiles, bending down to grab a wet-wipe from your picnic blanket, “you just devour fruit like a bulldozer.”

“do not.” you protest, and despite him wiping your hands down his gaze is still set straight on you. there’s a slight breeze passing by, and his green eyes peer at you though his waving hair.

“stop looking at me like i’m that mango.”

“am not!” you protest again as he moved onto wiping your mouth and cheeks, knowing damn well you’re about to jump his bones in the hotel room later.

he loves your mango, grapefruit and pineapple fed pussy, he swears it makes you taste sweeter. before you, eren never came home craving his girl’s pussy like a meal. but yours? you have to claw him off you.

this time, eren’s taken you to jamaica, one of the carribean islands you actually haven’t been to yet. he pulls the rented jeep into the drive way of your two’s airbnb, coming home to feed you the breakfast you sent him to the market for.

“hi ren baby. did you get it?” your brown eyes and coily hair peek up at him from your book from your place on the couch when he turns the corner into the living room.

“mhm.” he nods simply, holding up the brown paper bag in his hand to show you.

but he’s craving a different meal.

“ohhh good! the utensils and plates here are so so cute, i think the host even left wine. is it too early to day drin- baby?” you question, distracted at the way he pulls at your hips and cuts you off with an absolutely nasty kiss.

“i need to be fed too,” eren says, briefly breaking the kiss, his hands sneaking into your tiny panties and toying with your clit. you know he isn’t talking about his own meal in the bag.

two of his fingers slide up and down your hole, collecting your slick, then slowly penetrates your tight ring.

“mmmm,” you let out a cat-like purr as his fingers slide deeper into you, moving up and down, riding, and he knows the perfect balance of thrusting to please you.

he’s swallowing all of your pretty moans, tasting the chapstick off your lips as he’s attacking at your lips, then your jaw. your neck. your collarbones. until he’s laid you down and pulling your cropped cami top up to get at the valley between your breasts.

he’s humming out appreciatively against your skin, tasting the soft reminants of your shea butter from a shower the night before. he travels, just a little, but cruelly ignores your hard nipples pointing up for him. he disconnects from your breasts with a squelch, sitting back up to pull off your panties and lay down beneath you.

“what’s gotten into you, rennie?” you ask, a little breathless between movements.

“nothing sweetheart. now sit,” he demands, pulling you up onto his chest.

“wait. let me touch you?” he doesn’t object and you go straight for it, sliding down his sweats and eagerly pulling out his coated dick. there’s two beads of pre still going down his shaft when you lean down to lick and start to suck on him, he slaps your ass.

“i’m eating. if you’re going to touch and distract me, hands only.”

and you do. scooting back more so your cunt hovers over his face, wrapping your fist around his cock. he pulls you down and begins licking at your cunt.

eren shakes his head lightly, pressing his tongue into you and passing over your clit a few times so deliciously, the downright nasty sounds of him slurping at your cunt making you clench around nothing. while his tongue travels back up to your leaking hole, he closes his lips around your cunt too, sucking.

“s-so good baby,” you praise, then get caught off guard by him prodding his tongue at your entrance and penetrating you.

and eren’s tounge is thick. not absolutely abnormal, but definitely matches his 6’4 height.

the repeated feeling of his muscle penetrating you sends you spiraling, tightening your grip around his shaft trying to ground yourself. with every in and out motion, more of your slick is pushed out and down his throat.

eren is addicted to feeling you come on his tongue instead of his dick, something about you creaming on his face? does it for him.

you’d think it’d be the way your hands swivel around his shaft that’d send him spurting sticky while liquid up around your hands but instead, it’s the way your hips jerk in their up and down motion while you cum, your ass jiggling on his face.

“ima.. ima cum eren.. i’m cummin’” hence the stuttering of your hips and your breathy, choked out moans. he wraps his arms around your thighs, burying his face further into your cunt.

“yeah princess?” he asks rhetorically, softly slapping at and jiggling your thighs, “do it baby. keep cumming on my face.”

“hah- fuckkk rennn..” you’re mewling, riding out your orgasm on your mans unfaltering tongue, drinking in the vibration of his words against your cunt.

“you’re such a sweet girl. my sweet girl.” he says, gazing up at you as you’ve now scooted down and are sitting on his chest. he doesn’t protest at way you leak down his abs.

“am i?” you return a dopey smile, flopping over ontop of him.

one of his arms wrap around you waist, rubbing soothingly at your bare ass while the other softly rubs at your scalp.

he doesn’t reply, instead you’re left to listen to the beat of his heart and rise and fall of his chest as you two share radiated body heat. you’re close enough to the ocean to hear the waves in the distance.

“.. okay, now can we eat?” you ask, breaking the silence, gazing at the forgotten food on the side table.

eren loves traveling with you, you grabbing him by the hand and leading the way. he’ll follow you anywhere.

“it’s a type of spanish lime but TECHNICALLY, but it’s more like a grape. it’s called kenip.” you inform him, tapping his shoulder indicating he could put you down now.

he puts you back down on the sand, having previously had you on his shoulder so you could pick the fruit from a tree growing on the beach.

he just stares up at you with the biggest eyes of admiration as you peel and hand feed him a handful.

“you like it?”

“yeah. i like you.”

“the stupid limes that are actually grapes, big head.”

“those too.”

he does like you. he loves you. his little caribbean girlfriend who’s smile glows the brightest when she’s taken to the beach. who cries in disdain when he gets fruit from the supermarket and not the farmers market. who’s vibrant dark skin, which he’s in awe by, enhances in the summer.

he loves you.

[rorywritesjunk]

I can't tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story. Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He's young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him. Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy's in his early 20s. He's an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There's 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he's a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I'm excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy! Title comes from "Wake Me Up" by Avicii. TAGLIST (if you want to be added just let me know!): @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates (I didn't add others from the previous story because I didn't want to assume you'd want to be added, so please let me know if you want to be tagged<3)

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 1

He burst into the shop like waves crashing against the rocks: loud and violent. The door slammed open, catching the two teen girls by surprise while your boss looked at him disapprovingly. The young man glared at her as he stomped up to the desk, removing his jacket with a flourish before throwing it down onto the counter.

“I need this repaired now!” He demanded as he dropped three buttons down on top of the fabric. “These damn things fell off!”

The older woman glared at him and crossed her arms. She wasn't bothered by some demanding young pirate like him. She was used to it having her shop in a town that was frequented by pirates of all experiences and ages. The upside was that the pirates paid well for her shop’s services, but the downside was the up and coming pirates with egos the size of the sea.

“And?” The shopkeeper retorted. “You come in here demanding help like that? Why should we help?”

He didn't expect the pushback and it showed on his face. “B-Because my coat is ruined and needs to be fixed!” He pointed to the three buttons that had fallen off, loose threads still attached to them. “I need these to be put back on!”

“Hm, one of my girls could do it, but I don't know if I want your business.”

“Excuse me?!” The pirate exclaimed. “Do you know who you're talking to?!”

“No, not at all.”

Before the pirate could explode into a tirade you stepped into the shop from the backroom, frowning as you came to see what the noise was about. There was your boss, not taking any shit from the young pirate who looked like he had steam coming out of his ears. The other two apprentices were working at a table nearby, watching the exchange take place. 

“What's going on?” You asked as you walked over to your boss. You saw the coat and reached out to touch the fabric. “Oh, this is lovely. What's wrong with it?”

“The buttons fell off.” The pirate told you, jaw clenched as he glared at your boss. The older woman didn't back down, arms crossed as she stared right back at him.

“Oh, I can fix that.” You said as you collected the buttons and picked up the coat. You smiled at the pirate; he swallowed heavily and looked uncomfortable with you taking his things away like that. “Can you give me about an hour?”

Your boss turned her attention to you with her eyes narrowed. “You don't have to, I was about to kick him out.”

“I don't mind.” You said with a smile. “We shouldn't turn business away.”

Your boss grumbled and looked at the pirate. “Tell me your name and then come back in an hour, do you understand?”

He didn't hear her at first, too busy staring at you as you walked away with the buttons in one hand and his coat draped over your arm. Why did you offer to help after he just made a scene? The boss was glaring at him and waved her hand in front of his face.

“Young man? Your name?” She insisted. He finally looked at her, a scowl on his face once more.

“Captain Buggy the Clown.”

She said nothing as she wrote his name down on a claim ticket. She tore the ticket and gave one half to him. “One hour and you better have berry to pay.”

He snatched it out of her hand, glaring at her as he turned to storm out of the shop. Your boss just shook her head. She loved having you around but at the same time you caused as much trouble as the ruffian pirates who came by. Hopefully he would just be a one time customer.

~

When he returned an hour later, you were at the counter. His coat was hanging up behind you, the buttons reattached and shining like new coins. The rest looked brand new as well. He frowned as you looked up from your book. You smiled brightly when you saw him and he avoided your gaze, turning his attention back to his fixed coat.

“You're back!” You beamed as you turned to get the coat for him. “I fixed the three that fell off and made sure the rest were properly sewn on as well, so you shouldn't have any problems with them.” 

Buggy took the coat from you, inspecting the buttons by tugging on them. They were secured, even better than before, and they all looked like they had been polished by how shiny they were. He looked at you suspiciously as he put his coat back on. You walked around the counter to him and he took a step back. Without a word you smoothed out the shoulders of the coat, ensuring they laid flat before you reached down to lift the hem of the coat up, pointing to the inside.

“The lining was starting to come undone so I mended that for you as well.” You pointed out before dropping it and straightening back up. Buggy’s face started to redden as he continued to scowl.

“I'm not paying you for extra work!” He snapped. You smiled at him and shook your head.

“It's a courtesy.” You told him as you went to grab his bill. “You're paying just for the three buttons I sewed back on, everything else I chose to do.”

He took the bill from you, scowl now a frown. “Why?”

“Hm? Why what?”

“Why did you do all that extra mending?” He asked, suspicion in his voice as he reached into his pocket for payment. “What do you want from me?”

“Oh!” You chuckled and shook your head. “Nothing, but pirates pass through here all the time and I don't want you to have to come back for more services, you know. I figured if I got your coat into a newer condition you wouldn't have to come back.”

Honestly, you were providing the ultimate customer service to him, but Buggy thought it was almost insulting you didn't want him to come back. Sure, once he got back on his ship he wouldn't come back this way, but at the same time…

He glared at you and grabbed your hand, slamming the payment onto your palm. His cheeks were red like his nose at that moment, and before you could check to see if he paid the right amount he hurried from the shop, door slamming behind him. You shrugged and went behind the counter, counting out the berry. He paid over what the cost of services were and you sighed. He didn't even wait for his change.

~

“He was scary.” Livia whined over dinner that night as you stood at the stove, stirring the soup while Edith set the table. “Is that pirate going to come back?”

“No, I don't think he will.” You assured her as you flashed her a smile. “I made sure his coat was like new, so don't worry.”

“Why were you even nice to him?” Edith asked with a frown. “He was a jerk to Miss Pins.”

“I was taught to be nice to everyone because you don't know everyone's story, you know?” You told the younger girls. They were newer apprentices for Miss Pins while you were nearing the end of your 10 year apprenticeship. The two were only 14 and 15, whereas you were about to turn 24 with your birthday a few months away. “He could be really nice and just having a bad day.”

“Or he's just mean “ Livia said, making a face. “And did you see his nose? D’you think that was real or fake?”

“I bet it was fake.” Edith said as she sat down. “It seems like a lot of pirates have themes and stuff. I heard there was one who had a crew called the Black Cats and I think his ship has cats on it.” She looked over at you. “So that clown pirate is probably wearing it just for show.”

You just shrugged as you checked the flavor of the soup before adding in some ginger to it. “I wouldn’t know, but dinner is ready. Livia, can you go get Miss Pins? And Edith, can you slice some bread for us?”

Livia pushed away from the table and bounced out of the kitchen to go find their caretaker. Edith looked at you as she started cutting some slices of bread.

“He was really mean, you know.” She said as she put the pieces on a plate. “I don’t think you should have been so nice to him. What if he comes back?”

“I’ll still be nice to him because there’s no reason not to be.” You told her as you went to the table to grab the bowls one by one, filling them with soup. “And he wasn’t a threat, just loud.”

“I didn’t like how loud he was.” Edith sighed. 

“If he comes back, just call for me and I’ll help him.” You assured her. “Honestly.”

The younger girl didn’t look convinced but didn’t say anything. Livia returned a few minutes later with Miss Pins and everyone sat down. Dinner was always a peaceful affair, discussing how the day went and what to expect for the next day. Mostly it was assigning the younger girls chores and tasks while you helped Miss Pins with the running of the shop. You had some errands to run in the morning before the shop opened, grabbing groceries and just stretching your legs. 

When everyone finished, you took care of cleaning the kitchen while the two girls went to their shared room. Your boss looked at you from her place at the table.

“If that pirate shows up again, you turn him away.” She told you. “I didn’t like him one bit.”

“He’s not the first one to act like that.” You replied as you wiped down the counter. “And he won’t be the last.”

“I didn’t care for him.” 

You grinned at your boss. “You don’t like anyone who comes in the door if they aren’t kissing your feet and saying how wonderful you are.”

“Well, they should be saying how wonderful I am since I’m the only one on this damn island willing to help those pesky pirates.” She retorted as she glared at you. “I’m serious, if he comes in you turn him away.”

“Okay, okay. If he comes in I’ll tell him we’re closed.” You smiled. “I don’t think he’d believe me but I’ll make sure to tell him.”

[rippersz]

ℑ𝔫𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

«——..✞..——»

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

«——..✞..——»

"She was my darling: difficult, morose - But still my darling." ~ Vladimir Nabokov

«——..✞..——»

“I love you,” comes the soft murmur in your ear, sending goosebumps over your skin and lightning over your bones.

Her breath is ticklish - you can’t hold back the giggle that spills over your lips.

“I love you more.”

She chuckles and presses her cheek against your own.

“Never.”

“Oh never?”

A low hum. Red lips at your neck.

“Mmm… never.”

A smile tugs at your mouth.

Curious fingertips float over your waist, over your hips, over your breasts and shoulders.

“Never ever ever,” she whispers before bending closer and pressing delicious kisses to your flushed skin.

A sigh floats from your lips.

“Mmm I disagree.” Your eyes flutter closed, blocking out the warm glow of the world.

“And I disagree with your disagreement,” she chuckles, long arms tightening around your body. Keeping you still as her kisses become harder- determined to leave red prints on her darling.

Her sweet darling.

Her everything.

Her Y/n.

Her you.

Larissa’s body is facing the doors when you take your chance and run.

Darkness slopes over your body, preserving you, casting you and becoming your grave, as you dart off into the winding halls.

She hears your footsteps get further and further away.

Her lips part with each breath- with each number spoken as loudly as she can without yelling.

“… 13… 12… 11…”

Is she being too generous?

No.

No, she’s being just right.

It’s only fair, isn’t it?

Poor little lamb… not even sure where to go.

“… 10… 9… 8…”

Already, she misses you.

Where have you gone?

Where has your brilliant mind taken you?

And when will you return to her?

Will you return to her?

Yes.

Yes yes yes.

Return return return.

Come little lamb, return to your flock.

They miss you.

I miss you.

“… 7… 6… 5…”

A smirk bleeds onto red lips.

Excitement twirls in her - like a tired dancer unable to stop as the music continues. No end in sight. Only knowing one turn after the other. Only knowing winces and pain. Only knowing more more more.

“… 4… 3… 2…”

Oh lamb…

Insatiable.

Come out.

Hungry.

Come out.

Desperate.

Wherever you are…

“…1.”

A deep breath.

Clenched fists.

A swoop of the cool night air when she finally turns and greets the moonlight.

“Ready or not darling, here I come!”

–

Distantly, somewhere near the East Wing of the Academy, you hear her voice ring.

Ready or not darling, here I come…

The bell tolls for us all.

Your bell just so happens to be dressed in red - and fucking evil.

Terrifying, really.

Horrifying.

You can’t hear her footsteps but you know she’s moving. Skulking around in the shadows, hiding behind the corners. The game has just started but you anticipate her at every turn. Every turn that leads you deeper and deeper into a world you are suddenly wildly unfamiliar with. Nevermore in the harsh dark, as it seems, becomes a world completely unexplored. You’ve never been here before. Nothing seems right. The walls and floors look the same. They sound the same too. The cobblestone is loud. The brush of your clothing speaks too much. The air whispers.

It’s hopeless. She’s already found you. She knows where you are. Little fool. Silly little fool. There’s no point. You’re wearing yourself out.

But you’ve just started.

And you don’t wanna give up.

You don’t wanna lose.

You don’t wanna be hungry-

Click. Clack.

You bite your bottom lip hard to hold in a hiss.

“Damn these shoes!” You mouth to yourself in outrage, looking down at the black wedges on your feet.

They’re drawing her to you. Be smart. Fix it.

There’s an alcove.

You run for it, pressing your back against the curve, and take that moment to pull the things off of your body. It’s so quiet without the hum of technology - like static blooming within your ears - but you push through the dizzying silence and clutch your shoes to your chest. The floor is chilly beneath your bare feet, but you don’t notice it. It’s not important anyway. You’ve already stayed in that spot for too long. You have to get moving.

Okay. Wait- which way did you come from again? South? The corridor right in front of you? No no no. Maybe East? Closer to the forest’s edge? With the dark trees that cut out the moonlight and leave you in complete darkness? No. Maybe?

The still air tells you nothing.

You have no idea where she is.

Right behind you of course.

But that’s not possible. There’s a wall behind you - and it’s freezing, seeping through the fabric of your dress.

You have to get going.

You have to keep moving.

Run along now, little lamb. You hear the bell’s toll.

Swallowing the urge to let out a sigh, you turn to the right and begin your trek again.

The quicker you find a place to hide, the more at ease you’ll be. The game is not for her to chase you after all; she just needs to find you. And then keep you there. So technically speaking, if you manage to get away, that means she doesn’t win automatically. You just have to figure a place to covet that she won’t even think of. Which is difficult - considering she’s usually at least three steps ahead.

Not in this case though. She may be fast with those killer legs of hers, but it’ll take her some time to get around as well. And the kitten heels make a noise even louder than your wedges did. So maybe… maybe…

No. Best not to get too cocky. Don’t think so much about winning. Just think about hiding first.

There are so many places to go. Places she’s sure to check. Like your quarters. Like the faculty room. Like the gym. Like the cafeteria. Hell even the perimeter of the building or forest if she’s feeling desperate enough. Larissa didn’t place boundaries on the game area so you could go that far… but then getting outside without making a noise would be difficult. And sneaking inside, with dirt on your feet, would be even harder. There’s a few nooks and crannies you’re familiar with, including the Nightshade library, but no. No. She’ll look in those places too. The bathrooms aren’t sanitary, and the clocktower only has one entrance with a shit ton of stairs. Returning to the main hall would be suicide and sneaking into one of the dorm rooms would just be weird. She wouldn’t check there, though.

Or would she?

Well it depends. How smart does she think you are? And how well does she know you?

Well enough to know that you’d waste time questioning her.

Fuck.

You’ve always been indecisive but this is just pathetic. There’s no choice but to pick a place and stick to it.

But where could you go?

Where could you-

A flash of something gold sneaks into your vision as you whiz down the corridor. It’s slight, could even be a hallucination, but it catches your attention anyway and has you backing up as quick as you could.

‘Principal Weems’ glares back at you. Taunts you on the door.

Whenever you see it, the weird pang of discomfort you get in your heart puts a damper on your mood. It’s just a pity to know that she’s so fucking good at her job… while also being entirely bonkers. Well. Not entirely. You don’t actually know whether to classify her as a psychopath, sociopath, or neither. But then again, you aren’t qualified to do so in the first place. You only know the slightest differences… and she doesn’t fit the mold of a ‘mad woman’. She would, after all, die for any of the students that attend Nevermore. Hell, she’d probably die for you. She’s a soft woman at heart… but whoever she is when she’s hungry… well that’s different. That’s someone else. That’s a version of Larissa that you’re not sure you should feel honored about having met. But one you do feel honored about having met.

And that office held so many memories. It was the place you found out about her. Her and her hobbies. And then where you spent most of your time together. And grew. And bonded. And fell in l-

“Daaaaarling, where are you?”

It echoes, the bell.

It’s far, but it echoes. And if it echoes, it’s traveling. Getting closer. Closer.

You’re running out of time. Out of space. You run your tongue over the fronts of your teeth and you can already taste the lamb. It’s game-y. Meaty. Full of blood.

You’re moving before you can stop yourself.

The door handle is grasped, turned as slowly and quietly as possible, and then the door is pushed open with a creek. A small creek. And it’s only opened the tiniest bit. Barely even a few centimeters. A mere hint. A distraction. You nod to yourself, desperate for reassurance as you place one of your wedges near the door. It’s tipped onto its side; forgotten in a rush. Staged, obviously, but it’ll save you time if she bothers to stop and look.

If you were her, you wouldn’t take the risk that your prey weren’t there. What’s a minute or two spent exploring and uncovering? You can gain it back with increased speed. But it would still be a distraction.

I can make you think too, Larissa.

I can make you lose, too.

Where did her voice come from?

Was it behind you? Or the left? No, it was definitely the left… the way you came.

So you turn, one shoe in hand, and race down the other end of the hall. You can’t hear any footsteps. You can’t hear anything.

-

Larissa wasn’t a fool.

She’d slipped her feet out of her heels quite early on into the game. Once she figured the aesthetic came second to the satisfaction of winning quickly, she toed them off and left them near the entrance hall. At the very start of one corridor. Should you find them, or better yet- trip over them- then you’d know that the stakes were higher than ever.

Two could play at stealth.

But who had been hunting for longer?

The answer was obvious.

And the bell was feeling particularly wicked.

She’d eaten earlier. Harvested kidney with homemade potato salad and green beans with almonds and feta. A good meal, but the flavors didn’t melt into her tongue like they did when she’s with you. There’s just something about your eyes… hesitantly knocking into her lips, then her fingers, then the curve of her fork, then the meat on the other end. Fear flows through you, but there’s something else there as well. Something darker. The innate human curiosity. It enchants her. It grasps her.

She wants to explore it. She wants to explore you. She wants whatever you will give her.

Even if you will give her nothing.

She checks the doorknob to your chambers, entirely unsurprised to find it locked. She knows you, she knows she does, but a human is always capable of trickery. And you’re a smart woman. And she hates losing.

Even during her own Nevermore days, she hated it. Everything done with Morticia was easy. The Poe Cup. The fencing. The game of hide and seek where two players would go searching and the rest would hide. She won and she won and she won again. But during the times in which she was against Morticia… well then there were bent sabres and angry looks and the most infuriating hateful spews that fell out only under the hot water of a scalding shower.

Larissa was a force when she was furious. And her roommate knew that. She knew of the things that lurked. Larissa never scared her, not truly, but there were times where she wondered… times where the platinum blonde looked over at her roommate and saw the desire in her eyes to shift away. To put some space there. To run but never for help. To run just for the sake of running. To escape the fact that maybe- maybe- she birthed some of the darkness that lived in Larissa. Morticia never encouraged, no, but she never stopped it either. And so when she noticed her roommate’s sudden interest in the culinary arts… she didn’t question why she returned to the dorm late. Or why she spent so much time painting her nails. Or why she had a phase in which she wore headwraps and fashionable hoods and darker greys more often than she did the lighter colors. She didn’t question it at all. Not even when Jericho started booming with missing persons reports. And not even when one of Larissa’s favorite pair of white heels mysteriously disappeared after one evening out on the town.

Because there was nothing to ask. There was nothing to question.

She knew.

She knew.

And now you did as well.

So would she lose to you?

No.

No, she wouldn’t.

She’d never lose you.

You were too precious to let go. Too dear to her. Held in her clutches. Caressed by her strong fingers. Hers. Hers hers hers hers hers hers mine.

A creek caught her attention.

Crimson lips traced into a smirk.

Sweet lamb…

Your time is running out.

«——..✞..——»

Welp. -Rip x

«——..✞..——»

Tags (keep in mind Tumblr won't let me tag certain accounts):

@kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @sugipla @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @azu-zu @hopelessly-sapphic @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @zillahofviolets-bayolet @the-bearr @amateurwritescm @alex-nyx @alexusonfire @h-doodles

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 20/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 21, PART 22

Like ketchup. Slowly then all at once.

Radioapple!

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

Lucifer still feels like he's underwater, floating where the current takes him. He thinks he's dreaming because his eyes refuse to open all the way.

At least he isn't burning anymore.

It's mostly quiet, the only sound he can hear is the sloshing of the water.

It's calm. He doesn't know how long has it been since he's been calm in the quiet without company.

Once in a while though, he hears voices. The waves carry them in weird intervals and he tries very hard to think who is talking.

'You'll be okay, Luci.'

'I'll do everything to make you comfortable and back to full health.'

'AN HONOR TO SERVE YOU, SIRE. DO GET BETTER. I SHALL GIVE YOU THE BEST SERVANT THE GOETIA CAN PROVIDE.'

'Big bro, if you wake up now, I'll give you a lifetime supply of my juice!'

'Okay fine, I'll change Looloo Land's name fo real, yeah?'

'You need to meet Fizzie still, Luci.'

'Don't worry sir! I didn't touch a single duck in your room when I cleaned it. No more bugs though!'

'Zestial and I give our deepest gratitude in behalf of the overlords, Your Majesty.'

'Charlie is a fast learner.'

'Oh, Your Majesty, do wake up. I don't think I can take any more of Alastor's not-rambling. I love me some romance but whooowee, a woman has her limits, yknow!'

'I don't think I can eva' thank ya enough fo' setting me free, short king.'

'Pretty badass, your kingness.''

'I want to get to know you still sir.'

'Darling, do come back to me now. I miss you so. And do not listen to any of Rosie's lies.'

'Dad, please wake up. I need you.'

The last voice caused the calm waters to turn into a whirlpool and he feels himself being pulled down. A bright light appears in front of him, illuminating the deep, dark waters. And for a moment, just a moment, he thinks- no it couldn't be;

He reaches out a hand to touch but as soon as it did, he was propelled to the surface.

Lucifer wakes up slowly and then all at once. The King blinks in confusion and trying to get his eyesight to clear. A blurry figure of white is the first to greet him; no face but it's smiling?

'Father?'

Charlie: Dad!

Huh?

Lucifer: Charlie?

He winces at the state of his voice. Did he scream himself sore? He tries remembering what happened and-

The roots.

Roo.

A ritual.

Charlie.

Hell.

Sloth.

Goodie.

The deal.

A prophecy.

A sudden pain stabbed his head which caused him to groan.

Lucifer: Shit!

He forces himself to sit up just to relieve it a little. A rubbing hand on his back grounds him a bit. Looking up, he came face-to-face with his daughter. His sweet, lovely, Charlie.

Charlie: Woah, Dad. Take it easy. Here have water and some pain meds. Aunt Bel left it here just in case.

He doesn't need to be told twice as he took the pill, noting the bitter taste in his mouth. Pride be damned (ha! get it?), he just wants the pain to go away.

Charlie is still fussing and talking a million miles per hour and Lucifer doesn't have the heart to make her stop even though his head is about to split in half.

Maybe Charlie will forgive him if he snaps right now. Thankfully that doesn't happen as a new person comes to enter his room.

Alastor: Charlie, dear, I think your father would appreciate a quieter room.

Charlie: - Oh, Al! Right! Sorry, dad.

Lucifer: It's okay, applepie. Can you also dim the lights a bit?

Alastor: Charlie, might I ask of you to get food for your father? There should be some leftovers still.

Charlie: O-oh I- Sure, Al! Be right back, dad!

As soon as she left, Alastor moves to Lucifer's bedside. Lucifer follows his movements and only then does the King realize the insane amount of flowers taking up every space in his room. And then he realized that Alastor has some in his hands too.

Lucifer: What's all this?

Alastor: Why, tokens from your loved ones and dearest citizens. These ones are of mine.

The Radio Demon points at the golden Marigolds. Lucifer observes the other flowers and sees that every bunch has atleast a few Marigolds tucked in them.

Did.. did Alastor put them there so he could have the most flowers given? What a possessive bastard.

His endearment must be obvious in his face because Alastor huffed- freaking huffed!

Alastor: Whatever you are thinking, it is simply nonsense.

Lucifer puts his hands up in a mock surrender.

Lucifer: I didn't say anything.

Alastor: Good.

Alastor can be so cute when he wants (or not want?) to be. His lover? partner? Yeah, partner, sits down by his side, letting Lucifer lean onto his shoulder.

He's not soft like Lilith but Lucifer feels just as content. The sin of Pride stares at his arms that is now covered in runes he doesn't understand, no longer just plain black. Roo really did a number on him- her powers were far too strong it basically altered his appearance. He's more demon now than he was ever an angel. He doesn't know how to feel about that.

Alastor: Some things are to be discussed, right, Your Majesty?

Lucifer: Mmm. Yeah. But- I can't. Not right now. I'm not sure if I can.

Alastor: That's alright, mon ange. We are not in a hurry. We have our afterlife.

Lucifer bites his lip and holds Alastor's hands in guilt. This is a burden he must carry himself. What's inside him... it would be more dangerous if anyone else knew, especially Heaven. It's better to think of it as a wild card than a ticking time bomb.

Alastor hums a tune that makes him sleepy again. He doesn't remember falling asleep but he does vaguely recall being laid down again. He remembers a feeling of a kiss on his forehead, something brushing his cheek and moving his hair.

A nice calm before the storm.

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

Charlie took so long cos she wanted to heat it up but the microwave is missing?? (Alastor's doing)

Next chapter, Luci will wake again and have a talk with Charlie

Just wanted to get some Radioapple in there.

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 28

chapter 47:

1. 😟😶 no one even got to say goodbye. i- WHAT THE HELL??? FUCKING RIDDLE

2. i’m at least happy that remus, james, and pandora can all take care of each other during the games.

3. im actually highly worried about regulus being a death eater. too worried, actually

4. “Regulus realizes it as he sits there, never moving or doing anything at all, just breathing; he isn't scared this time. Not even a bit.”

reg not being scared makes ME scared

5. “He had planned to kiss Remus' mask one last time, and kiss Remus, too.”

of COURSE it’s ALWAYS wolfstar that tips the tears over. why does THAT make me sob???

6. oh shit. it’s a maze

7. “”Come now, surely you wouldn't harm me and little Draco, would you?"

"I'm going to give you one chance to run," Sirius tells her, holding still, "and take little Draco with you."”

LMAOO they both know she’s lying out her ass

8. “It's Mavis and Velvet; they'd done exactly as they promised they would. They found weapons, found each other, and they died together. Their bodies are splayed out on the ground right beside one another, curled close in death like the lovers they were in life.”

oh shit oh shit oh shit i’m starting to cry again. i feel so bad for them, but don’t blame them in the slightest. it’s what i would have done

9. “and there's just this quiet, momentary mourning and respect for two people who loved each other and decided, together, that they would not participate in a game as cruel and sadistic as this one. They went out together, in complete control of their own fate, and they never deserved anything other than a long life full of love.”

crying HARDER. this would be the turning point in the games for me. i shit you not, i’d start teaming up and trying to break out the fucking arena

10. “And then, unprompted, Regulus' voice rings out, nearly snarling. He's addressing the sky, the audience, the Hallows in a low hiss of derision when he declares, "When you take them, you take them together, and know that it's your fault."”

i know i’m quoting this whole little section, but it’s IMPORTANT and it HURTS and everyone in that arena is being human right now instead of trying to survive. they’re all united on the front that they’re human and understand what it meant to love

11. i’m not surprised that the “first” kill of the arena was made by sirius. especially since it was to save regulus

12. WAIT YALL ARE GONNA LAUGH AT ME FOR THIS!!! sirius killed twelve people in the arena the first time. just like how he was blamed for twelve deaths in canon. i. it took me too long to make that connection yall

13. oh CHRIST i forgot that they planned to kill marlene’s parents in front of her right before she went in the arena. i’m so sorry. i want to comfort her

14. “Someday, Riddle is going to fuck with the wrong person, and they're going to slaughter him, and on that day, the whole world is going to shine just a little brighter” 👀 side eye

15. sirius has too much trust in regulus and i understand why and i see that, but BABES you’re so wrong

16. “In fact, they're all eyeing him like they're considering just killing him now so they won't have to deal with the headache he is sure to be. He's so ridiculously fond of each of them, truly.” 😶😑😶 blink blink. my dear. you need therapy

17. i- eli got in the arena and took a GODDAMN NAP- no fucking way. that’s wild y’all

18. regulus hating the rain is so me. and i’m not even exaggerating. reg hates the rain and refuses to go in it. if i get wet from the rain, the second i get indoors, i start having severe panic attacks over getting wet. i don’t blame him in the slightest.

19. y’all. people have really got to stop challenging regulus. he says that he’s gonna kill a person or stab them with a fork or brutally maim them if they kill/insult james or sirius. and every damn time, people still test him. and every time, he goes through with it. why do people not believe him?? he SAID he won’t hesitate

20. the authors notes are literally me on the previous point (19):

“regulus: i am telling you explicitly what i will physically do to you if you do This Thing

everyone else: *does it anyway and is immediately shocked when he follows through*

like??? DOES HE LOOK LIKE THE TYPE OF MAN WHO JOKES??? WHY DOES NO ONE TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY??”

😭😭😭 me fr

remember to respect zar’s wishes and fanfic laws! do not buy fics! do not repost crimson rivers on other sites. please and thank you.

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 24

All righty, folks! Before we get to Steve, we have the band on tour and Eddie is really, really gonna go through it this chapter.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23

****

Once they were on the road and the euphoria of getting the job offer of a lifetime wore off, a sense of unease settled in Eddie’s gut. He knew he should feel excited. He was doing the one thing he always dreamed about doing ever since his mom gave him his first guitar. A sweet little acoustic that he had written “This Machine Slays Dragons”. He still had it, but right now it was safe with Wayne.

But he didn’t. He just felt empty. Not good or bad. Just...empty. Like a bottle leftover from some party. Once part of a good time, now just an empty shell.

Eddie looked over at his friends. Jeff and Brian were talking, while Gareth was asleep. He pulled out his sweetheart. The way he always did when he got down.

He closed his eyes and began to play. The chords where slow and mellow. He wasn’t sure how long he played like that, just pouring his soul out into his music, but when he opened his eyes he saw that all three of his friends were staring at him open-mouthed.

“Holy shit, dude,” Brian said after closing his mouth with audible click. “Where did that come from?”

Gareth waved a piece of paper in his hand. “I wrote down as much as I could, because seriously, that was fucking incredible.”

Eddie ducked his head and blushed. “I guess I just needed to work out some shit.”

Jeff and Brian shared a glance and then Brian moved over and sat next to him.

“I think I know what you mean,” he said. “And I think you should write the lyrics too.”

Eddie looked up at him and then at Jeff and Gareth. They nodded.

“I just don’t know,” he said. “It all feels too personal to write down.”

Jeff scoffed. “And that’s exactly why you should. Because it’s personal. There’s a damn good reason that you’ve written ninety percent of our songs, man.”

Gareth nodded. “Because you’re fucking brilliant at it. Write the song. I think everyone needs to hear it.”

Eddie nodded. He got right to work on the lyrics. Taking what Gareth had transcribed and reworking the song with the lyrics. He was nearly done by the time they stopped.

Brian patted his shoulder. “Hey, man. Don’t worry, we’ve got this. You continue working on your song. I’ll send someone to get you when it’s time for the sound check, okay?”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “You guys sure you don’t need an extra hand?”

Gareth laughed. “Fuck we need several, but don’t worry about yours. They’re doing the important part.”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got this.”

*

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he was lost in his head working on the song, but he had just put down his pen when there came a knock on the door.

He got up to answer it and saw a small Hispanic woman standing out there. “Yeah?”

“It’s sound check time,” she said. “And the drummer said something about a set of headphones or something?”

Eddie looked around and spotted the sound-canceling headphones by the table. He picked them up. “I’ve got them. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

He closed the door but it hadn’t closed all the way because he heard her say, “God, what kind of loser wears noise canceling headphones to a metal concert.”

Eddie’s blood turned to ice. He picked up his guitar and carried it out of the bus.

Thankfully she wasn’t around otherwise he would have blown up at her.

He made his way through the labyrinth that was the backstage to get to where he needed to be for the sound check.

Gareth came running up to him. “Oh thank god! I thought I lost them already.”

Eddie scoffed. “Nope, just left them on the bus like a dork.”

Gareth stuck his tongue out at him.

Eddie got to work setting up for his kit. He was almost done when a sound guy came up to him.

“We’re having trouble syncing our sound to your drummer’s headset,” he told him. “Does he need them for this?”

“What’s the problem?” Eddie asked. “They didn’t have trouble in Indy.”

The guy sighed. “Our system is newer and it’s causing feedback.”

Eddie pulled out fifty bucks from his wallet. “Go buy a pair that works. And if that doesn’t cover it, I’ll pay you back.”

The guy just rolled his eyes and did as he was told.

They played that night to a sell out crowd. They were only opening for Metallica, but damn the crowd got them going. Afterwards he called Steve and chatted about their day. His day was more exciting to be sure, but he loved hearing about the client that passed out at the sight of the needle. Apparently they hadn’t realized that tattooing in involved the pesky things and had an absolute fear of them.

Then someone was tapping him on the shoulder telling him had to go. He said goodbye to Steve and was rushed out the door.

Even though they only had three shows in those two weeks, they were quickly learning that playing wasn’t the only thing a band had to do on the road.

There were parties, and talk and radio shows, and photo shoots, and signings.

Sometimes he would get to speak to Steve, but most of the time it was leaving voicemail after voicemail.

All around him he kept hearing:

“Three weeks isn’t a relationship! It’s a fling!”

“He’s not a fan of metal? What is he a fan of?”

James came up behind Eddie and clapped him on the back. “Everything okay back home?”

Eddie stared at his phone. He had just left his third message that day with Steve.

“Yeah,” he said, voice shaking a bit. “It’s just we were so new to the relationship part, we were friends before that, that I worry being on tour has hurt us in someway.

James nodded. “It’s hard being on the road, away from family. It’s why most of us take them with us when we can.”

Eddie chewed on his lip. “It’s hard because he has his own tattoo shop and recently took on two apprentices so he’s like super busy.”

James pursed his lips. “That can certainly make it hard. What time is he off?”

“Eight.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “Instead of doing on encore tonight, why don’t you boys bow out and spend time talking to your families. It’ll be good for morale all around, I think.”

Eddie sighed gratefully. “Yeah. I’ll bring it up to them and see what they say.”

James squeezed his shoulder and went on his way.

“If the drummer doesn’t like noise why did he chose drums as an instrument?”

“A drummer that startles at loud noises? Get a new drummer!”

Lars paused them on their way to the sound check in Houston. “Hey, I know you guys are only doing a couple more shows, but after that fiasco with the Chicago guys me and the boys decided to spring for everyone to get a set of these.”

He handed the case to Eddie.

He opened it up to reveal little black earbuds. “What are these?”

“It’s what all touring artists wear,” Lars explained. “They’re fitted to cover the full inside of the earlobe to drown out the sounds around you so you can hear your own music.”

“Oh wow, that’s neat.” Eddie put one in and was amazed at the quality. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

Lars grinned. “It’s mainly for your drummer. Everyone deserves accommodations for any kind of disability and if the loud noises bother him, it makes it hard for everyone else to concentrate because you guys are worried about him.”

Eddie smiled. “Thanks!”

“It’s a pity that tattoo will never be finished. I could give you the name of my artist if you want!”

“It’s a shame that your tattoo artist wasn’t good enough to finish the tattoo before you left, maybe you could get covered with something else. Something better than that.”

The band was admiring Eddie’s back tattoo.

“I’m really liking the details, man,” Kirk said.

Robert nodded. “Hell yeah. Who’s your artist? He does some really sick work.”

Eddie blushed, grateful his back was too them. “He’s my boyfriend, Stevie.”

“Damn, you’ll never have to pay for another tattoo ever again,” Lars said. “Lucky.”

Jeff laughed. “Nah, knowing Steve, he’d probably charge Eddie an extra mayhem tax.”

Kirk and Lars shared a look and then nodded unison.

“Fair,” the said together.

Eddie yelped, “Hey!”

He turned to Gareth and Brian, but they agreed with Jeff, too.

“And they said I’m the menace.”

“Ooh, honey, let me take you somewhere private. Your boyfriend will never know.”

“It’s a shame he’s gay, all the girls are just gaga for that doe-eyed look of his.”

Eddie turned down another request to share his hotel room. Never mind that he was sharing with all the other members of Corroded Coffin and wouldn’t have had any kind of privacy. Never mind he had a boyfriend back home. Never mind he was gay.

It didn’t seem to matter with these people. Hot rock star equals slut apparently.

“How the hell do you do it?” he asked James. “You have been married to the same woman for twenty five years and you still get women throwing themselves at you.”

“It’s hard,” James said with a shrug. “But she’s more important then any roll in the hay ever will be.”

Eddie nodded, pursing his lips. Steve was more important then any roll in the hay. He could hold on to that.

“I know he’s your friend, but maybe it’s time to get a touring drummer. He can still record with you or whatever. But he’s really holding the band back right now.”

Gareth isn’t just some guy. He was family. He wasn’t even Corroded Coffin’s first drummer that dubious honor went Kyle Creevy, a snot nosed, freckled kid whose arms were barely thicker than the drumsticks he played with. But he moved right before Eddie’s ninth grade year and Gareth just slid into their lives.

They may have been playing at the Nightmare Holes for seven years but the band been together for much longer than that. They had been playing for over a decade. And unless they had someone that could learn their music in mere months were Gareth had taken years...they could fuck off.

God, the members of Metallica had been playing together for forty years and the only change they’d made was when a member fucking died.

“That back tattoo of yours is really not a good look. It’s the biggest part and no one will ever see it.”

Eddie couldn’t make them understand the tattoo wasn’t meant to be seen, it was meant to be felt. To put to feeling growing up as a small town pariah and making it out. Not ending up in jail like his dad or dead like his mom. To be the Freak and turn it into something special. To finally find his wings.

Steve understood. God, he missed Steve so much and he felt like he was pulling away. It was like a rubber band being stretched. It might snap or might not, but whatever happened it would never be the same.

The members of the band’s team shooed these people away when it got to be too much for him.

“Fame and fortune wait for no man. It’s time to lose the dead weight.”

He came close to punching that guy. Some haughty agent they met in Houston.

It was thrilling to watch security throw him out.

“The long hair went out in the eighties, darling. I really think a half shaved look would be better for you.”

Eddie laughed at that last one straight in their face. Kirk fucking Hemmet still had long curly hair, they could fuck the fuck right off.

But then the tour was over. They were going home.

****

Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

[lightasthesun]

Dialogue Prompts (Taylor's Version)

1♪ “You are the best thing that's ever been mine.”

2♪ “I will never leave you alone.”

3♪ “I'm captivated by you, like a fireworks show.”

4♪ “How's life? Tell me how's your family?”

5♪ “I'm sorry for that night.”

6♪ “Run away now.”

7♪ “Run as fast as you can.”

8♪ “They are the lucky ones.”

9♪ “Have we met?”

10♪ “Who do you love?”

11♪ “Remember this moment?”

12♪ “Remember this feeling.”

13♪ “Life makes love look hard.”

14♪ “I love you. I loved you from the very first day.”

15♪ “Meet me tonight.”

16♪ “You are not the exception.”

17♪ “I can't stop thinking about you and I.”

18♪ “I'm setting you free.”

19♪ “It's gonna be alright.”

20♪ “It's in the past.”

21♪ “Heaven can't help me now.”

22♪ “No one has to know what we do.”

23♪ “Are you insane?”

24♪ “It's been a long six months.”

25♪ “You're my best friend.”

26♪ “It might blow up in your pretty face.”

27♪ “Come here.”

28♪ “I said 'I love you', you say nothing back.”

29♪ “I knew it all along.”

30♪ “How'd we end up on the floor anyway?”

31♪ “She's laughing up at us from hell.”

32♪ “I don't remember.”

33♪ “The end is coming.”

34♪ “You should be doing more.”

35♪ “You have to trust more freely.”

35♪ “Love is a lie.”

36♪ “It's time now, let go.”

37♪ “This is it. I've had enough.”

38♪ “I swear I'm gonna change.”

39♪ “I still love you.”

40♪ “It's been you all along.”

41♪ “I need you.”

42♪ “Look at you, worrying so much about things you can't change.”

43♪ “I'm sorry, too.”

44♪ “Don't get attached.”

45♪ “Everybody knows that.”

46♪ “Why?!”

47♪ “Go out and have some fun.”

48♪ “Why did you let her go?”

49♪ “It's not just a phase I'm in.”

50♪ “Believe in one thing, I won't go away.”

51♪ “I'll wait for you.”

52♪ “Do you know how much I miss you.”

53♪ “All's well that ends well.”

54♪ “Fuck the Patriarchy.”

55♪ “It's supposed to be fun turning 21.”

56♪ “I keep waiting for you but you never come.”

57♪ “I don't know what to think.”

58♪ “You look beautiful tonight.”

59♪ “Forever and always.”

60♪ “I'm in love with you.”

61♪ “There's nothing you can say.”

62♪ “Too late.”

63♪ “Did you ever think of me?”

64♪ “We're still friends.”

65♪ “Take my hand.”

66♪ “I think he did it.”

67♪ “They all want to be you.”

68♪ “What's a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge and you were too polite to leave me?”

69♪ “Dancing is a dangerous game.”

70♪ “I survived.”

71♪ “What a sad sight.”

72♪ “Yes.”

73♪ “Who knows what could've been.”

74♪ “Are you sure?”

75♪ “This is me trying.”

76♪ “Fuck you forever.”

77♪ “Sir, I think he's bleeding out.”

78♪ “Doc, I think she's crashing out.”

79♪ “Get in, let's drive.”

80♪ “I'd die for you in secret.”

81♪ “Give me a reason.”

82♪ “Im fine.”

83♪ “I love you (ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?)”

84♪ “Where we gonna go?”

85♪ “I rent a place on Cornelia Street.”

86♪ “I don't know.”

87♪ “I'd die for you.”

88♪ “Damn, it's 7am.”

89♪ “Are you ready for it?”

90♪ “Don't thrown away a good thing.”

91♪ “You're gorgeous.”

92♪ “Go, go, go!”

93♪ “That's a lie.”

94♪ “Does he know?”

95♪ “Get your shit together.”

96♪ “Nothing is gonna change.”

97♪ “You made us proud.”

98♪ “Don't leave me here alone.”

99♪ “I know you don't.”

100♪ “We always walked a very thin line.”

[lianaloverr]

4 𝙋𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧

Sam Goldbach x fem!reader

★

Summary: You've had a crush on Sam for 8 years, after another failed attempt to confess your feelings, you came up with a solution..

Warning: none

Word count: 1.2k

Hiiiiii!!!! It's been so long omgggggg, I hope y'all like this! This story was based of one of my favorite songs!

s

“”I’m sending him a 4 page letter, and I enclosed it with a kiss.”

“Yo, turn my music up?”

.

That's what I told my bestfriend Missy. “Alright.” she responded. “Hey, have you talked to Sam?” she added. “No? Why?” I ask kind of worried. All she did was smirk at me, I rolled my eyes. She loved to tease me about my crush. I’ve had a crush on Sam for 8 years, we’ve been friends for 13 years. When we were younger, we were inseparable. I never wanted to accept my feelings for him, but all the times I looked at him with pure love, and the amount of times I would get jealous at him introducing his new girlfriend’s. I just had to admit it eventually. But I never dared uddered a word about it to anyone, only my close friends. But somehow, some people caught on, but Sam was still oblivious.

I was scared honestly. Mama always told me to be careful who I love. And daddy always told me make sure he’s right. I took that to heart. But It felt different with him. Something I never felt before.

“You should text him.” Missy says, snapping me out my thoughts. “Yeah, yeah. Can you turn it up a little bit more?” I ask, “Text. Him. First.” damn, she's serious. “Okay, mom geez.”

Sammy 🩵

Me: hi sammyyyyyy

Sammy 🩵: hi bubba, is something wrong?

Me: no, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight? Yk, play some games, watch some movies, its whatever you want to do:)

Sammy 🩵: now bubba, when would i say no? Ill be there at 9

Me: okay sam, love youuu

Sammy🩵: love u too bubba

End of conversation

“Okay, I texted him. You happy?” I say snarky. “Yes, indeed.” She says standing up to hug me. “You know you have to tell him sooner or later right?” Jesus.. “Dude, we’ve already had this conversation. It's not the right time!” I slightly raised my voice out of irritation. “Okay babe;” she laughed. “There’s no need to be angry.” she said. “Yeah, yeah.. I’m sorry, I’m just stressed. You're right.” I replied. “Yes.. I know, I’m always right. But if you don't tell him, I will.” She concluded. I chuckled dryly. “Okay.”

—-------------

Me and Missy hung out for a couple of hours until Sam texted me telling me he was on his way. Seeing that I looked at the time and realized it was 8:30. “Oh crap. I gotta go.” I tell Missy, giving her a quick hug and rushing out her apartment door. “Okay, bye babe! Good luck!” is what I heard from the distance.

On my way back to my house, I get a phone call from Kat.

You: regular

Kat: bold

Heyy kitty kat!

Hii y/n/n! Whatcha doing??

Oh i'm heading back to my apartment, I got plans with Sam.

Y/n are you serious??

I know Kat.

Your playing yourself for him, everyone says he doesn't even notice you

Please Kat, let me have this. You don’t know him like I do.

Okay, whenever he doesn't show up I'll always be here.

Gee, thanks. Anyways I gotta go, I’m back home. Bye kitty kat!!

Byeeee!!

End call

I sigh and walk up to my house, excited to see that beautiful face again. About 5 minutes later I hear a knock on my door. Yayyy! I opened the door to be a little disappointed to see a pizza delivery man. (u thought that was Sam didn’t you?) “Hello, 3 pizzas for Sam?” He says. “Yes sir. Thank you!” I say as he handed me the pizzas. After I put the food down on the kitchen counter and look at my phone. That's when I saw a missed text from Sam saying he ordered pizzas. An audible “no duh” came out from my mouth. I text back with a “Got them!”

About 10 minutes later I hear a knock on my door. It was the one and only Sam. “Sammyyyyy!!” I yell jumping on him for a hug. “Hi y/n/n.” He replies, snuggling into my neck. “You surely took your time.” I whisper into his ear. “Oh I'm sorry, traffic.” He says. We stayed like that for about 10 seconds. “Maybe you should come inside hun.” you say, pulling away. You hear an audible groan come from his mouth, but he complied none of the less.

—---------

Sam ended up staying there for 5 hours and it was really fun. Y'all did a lot of stuff, and occasionally flirted. You thought it was really weird because Sam never showed signs of liking you. But at the same time he could be joking. I just overthink too much. On the way out the door, I couldn't help but wonder if I actually had a chance.

“Thanks for inviting me over Y/n, I had a lot of fun.” Sam says. “Of course! You're welcome anytime.” I replied. After that, we just stared at eachother. Wow, this is weird. It was like he was waiting for something, I just gave him a confused look. He just sighed and said, “Anyways, bye.” and rushed out the door. That was even weirder but it is what it is. Since it was 2:30, I decided to take a quick shower and head to bed.

The next day

—---------

It was currently 3:30 in the afternoon and I was up thinking all night. I don’t know why but when I tried to go to sleep, I couldn’t. But luckily, I know what to do with Sam now. I called Missy to tell her.

You: Regular

Missy: Italic

Hello?

Hii bestie!

Hiii babe, how was last night?

It was amazing! We played games, watched movies..

Did you tell him?

No but that’s what I was calling to tell you. I know what to do now about it.

Oh my god! Finally!! So what?

I’m sending him a 4 page letter.

… What?

It’s a great way to express my feelings without embarrassing myself in person.

That is… genius! How come you didn’t think of that earlier??

Honestly I don’t know! It just came to my mind after he left last night.

Yess! I'm gonna leave you to it, get it done and there as fast as you can!

Okay, bye.

End of call

I ended up sitting there and writing that letter for 1 hour. It was really a 4 page letter expressing all my feelings to him. The way he makes me feel. The way I felt this way for 8 years. The way he keeps me safe. How I hope when I get the courage to come to him, to promise not to diss me. I told that I was too shy so I decided to write instead of saying it in person. After all that, I contemplated putting my name on it, but eventually decided against it. I put it in the envelope and enclosed it with a kiss.

____

I sat there for about 15 minutes arguing back and forth with myself about sending it but I knew I had to, I couldn’t hide any longer. I walked out to the drop off box and left it in there. I walked back home with a scared but excited look on my face, in hopes…

˜”*°•.˜”*°•He would get it on time•°*”˜.•°*”˜

࿎࿎🎀

I hoped y’all liked it. I’ve missed you guys so muchhh.

[astoldbychae]

I'm askin 1-30 for me and Javier, JP...kinda anyway I'm asking for the lovebirds Melo and Monet

One...through THIRTYYYYY? 👀 *cracks knuckles* *sips wine* Let's do this!

1. Where and how did they meet? Junior High/High School. He's best friends with her older brother, Mekhi.

2. Was it love at first sight? Absolutely not. Mel is 5 years older than her, so she was still in middle school/junior high at the time. HOWEVER when they ran into each other again (he was 30, she was 25) She thought he was the finest man in the club!

3. If it was not love at first sight, how and when did they know it was love? He knew it was love when she consistently showed up for him during one of the heaviest moments of his life (his divorce). She knew it was love the way he consistently showed up for her during hers (her pregnancy).

4. What feature(s) do they find most attractive about their partner? For him, it's her hands and her eyes. For her, it's his ears and lips.

5. What traits / personality aspects do they like most about their partner? He loves that she's Hot-Headed and how Ambitious she is. She loves how Family Oriented and Proper (Polite/Courteous) he is. They also both share the People Person lifestyle trait, so they love that about one another too. All their traits here.

6. Do they have any habits their partner finds annoying? He gets annoyed with the way she cracks her knuckles, She gets annoyed with how slow he eats. Also, when he's REALLY tired he snores and it drives her up a wall (but most times he's got her in a cuddle-lock when they're sleeping, so she can't really move much. She likes to throw her ass back on him to wake him up/make him stop snoring. Works every time. It's literally the only thing he responds too) 🙃

7. Is there anything about their partner they would like to change? For him, it's how much time she spends on her phone. For her, it's how much time he spends at work.

8. Where did they have their first date? Their first legit date was at a Bowling Alley/Arcade in San Myshuno. Afterwards they went to a Brewery that had just opened and had the most delicious wings! She planned it because he needed some fun in his life after his divorce. She doesn't call it a date though...but He does.

9. When and where did they have their first kiss? Two months after they met/saw eachother at the club, He invited her out for a late night drive while he was clearing his head. They ended up at Myshuno Meadows Park. It was in his truck, Anita Baker's "Whatever It Takes" provided the soundtrack to the moment He realized that he was developing some deeper feelings for her. They were having a heart to heart conversation about life and it was the way she turned to look at him that made him slowly lean over, look her deeper in her eyes, and asked if he could kiss her. 😩

10. How long have they been together? 2 1/2ish years or so. In my mind they're still in the earlier "honeymoon" stages of their relationship.

11. Will they stay together for a long time? I hope so! (and I know Melo can second that notion...Monet does too but He is the main one that thinks about being old and grey and his legacy)

12. Do they have many problems in the relationship or just a few? Or none? I'd say just a few, He wants more children and she is more focused on her career right now. She has jealous pangs regularly and hates his ex-wife. She has been arguing with him a lot more lately and picking little fights because she's Hot-Headed as well. He does work A LOT. So my guess is they need a bit of a better balance in life but she (nor he) has been able to really communicate that. He's always kissing on her neck, giving her massages, and hunching on her all the damn time, so IDK why she can't tell him how she feels without snapping! I also think it's time for Alleia's lil butt to go to daycare! I just chalk it up to her being a bit overwhelmed right now, adjusting to new mom life (?)

13. Is there a big age difference between the partners, a small difference or are they the same age? They're 5 years apart. She's 27 and He's 32.

14. Do other people approve or disapprove of the relationship? His family approves of her, especially his daughters. Her family approves of him. However, her mom plants little seeds of uncertainty in her head at times but overall her mom loves Melo. Momma doesnt want Monet to "get so wrapped up in a man that she forgets about herself/ her dreams".

15. If someone disapproves of the relationship, who is it, and why do they disapprove? His ex-wife is salty and disapproves/absolutely despises Monet, for the simple fact that she still wants him. WOMP WOMP!

16. Does the couple care if people disapprove of them being together? Nope. Not one bit! Mel will tell you to "mind your MF business mane" in a heartbeat. 😂

17. Are they married? No...🙃

18. If they’re not married, do they want to be? He does (he's had the whim to propose but at the time it was too soon, we're just waiting on that whim to pop up again). She would like to be but she isn't pressed about it. Right now she is more focused on trying to balance motherhood and career.

19. Would they elope, have a small intimate wedding, big fancy wedding, or something else? She would like to elope. Him on the other hand, he wants a big fancy wedding because he feels She deserves it. He loves celebrating her! He also wants to experience that because (1) he's a party animal that loves a good party and (2) he didn't get to experience that with his first marriage (they were high school sweet hearts and got married in their early 20's, so they had a small intimate wedding).

20. Where would they go on their honeymoon or dream vacation? A resort in Selvadorada, a cabin in Mt. Komorebi, or a nice little bed & breakfast in Magnolia Promenade. Anything with a good view & good food!

21. Do they have any children? Do they want any? Yes, they have a daughter together and he has 2 daughters with his ex-wife. Yes, he wants more. She is neutral about having more (she's ok if they do & ok if they don't)

22. What is their favourite thing to do together? Cook. He loves to try new recipes that he saw on the Cooking Channel. She's currently in her baking era and he loves doing that with her (most times he is just licking everything...but he is learning a thing or two...about baking)

23. Where is their favourite place to go together? Bowling Alley or Arcade

24. Do they have a song? They have two actually, Anita Baker "Whatever It Takes" & Stevie Wonder "For Your Love"

25. Do they have any pet names / nicknames for each other? She calls him "Papa" and he calls her "Love" or "Moo" (which was her childhood nickname)

26. Are they jealous? She is...VERY VERY jealous. He isn't.

27. Is this a first relationship for either of them? Nope. He's been married before and had "little flings" in his younger years. She's had one serious relationship before this, aside from her "puppy love" jr high/high school relationship.

28. How do they show affection for each other? Cuddles, hugs, kisses, massages...random acts of service (is her love language) and physical touch (is his).

29. How do they cheer their partner up when they’re sad? She let's him lay his head on her chest while they talk & she rubs his head/ears, until he falls asleep (which he does damn near every time and he wakes up in a better mood). He cuddles with her/lets her cry it out on his chest or tries to crack jokes (depending on how sad she is/what's going on).

30. Is either of the partners a ‘hopeless romantic’? After really looking at what the term means...Yes, Papa most definitely is! 🥺 Has the Soulmate Aspiration & Romantic trait to prove it! Lol.

I honestly think he would have tried to make his first marriage work (even though she had a baby on him with someone else) but it was the fact that the baby was by one of his closest friends that fucked him up the most. Yes, he was fucked up that the baby wasn't his in general BUT he knew that during their earlier years of the relationship he wasn't shit (and had stepped out on her several times, one of which resulted in a pregnancy scare of the other woman). Which is also why ex-wife was in disbelief that he was actually going through with the divorce. They've been through A LOT together and she knows how Family Oriented he is and how much he values marriage. That was one of the main reasons why he was going through it during the divorce because he never wanted to (1) go through a divorce but (2) have his kids not have both their parents under one roof. He dreamed of having that happy family with one woman. Hence why now He is doing EVERYTHING in his power to be with/make things work between him & Monet. He believes in love and soulmates and the whole "til death do us part" (and I really love that about him).

[makesometime]

10 or 13 for zolf and wilde, gimme the angst Zo <3

#13: “You could’ve- could’ve stayed. You could’ve helped me fix things.”

(set before the first epilogue)

Oscar can’t deny that he put this house together with the thought of Zolf joining him. That he took a place that was merely somewhere for him to return to at the end of the day and turned it into a home.

Now that Zolf’s been here for a few days, though, it’s more than apparent that he’s not ready to make it what Oscar longs for. They’re closer… but gods, they’re not there yet.

“I, uh…” Zolf starts, putting down a meal in front of Oscar that’s better than anything he’s eaten in the months they were apart. “I picked this recipe up in a little village outside of Salisbury. S’nice.”

“It smells delicious, Zolf.”

He watches his beloved smile under the praise, can’t help but wonder how often Zolf hears kind words when he’s out on his journeys. From the look of him, probably not very often.

They eat in pleasantly companionable silence, but he’s plagued by the feeling that they’re on the cusp of something the entire time, like they’re not getting out of this kitchen without at least a little heartbreak. 

“I’m thinking about moving on.”

Gods, he hates being right.

Oscar nods, sipping at his tea to hide the worst of his reaction. It’s barely been a week—.

“Soon?”

“Yeah.” Zolf murmurs, glancing down at the table, at his plate, everywhere but Oscar. Gods, Oscar wishes he would just make eye contact like he used to. “Heard about a job south of the river, then might just… keep going.”

Zolf continues not to look at him, even when he sighs and rests his chin on his upturned palm. “I wish you’d stay.”

Boldly going for honesty doesn’t seem to be entirely the right approach, but it feels best in the moment. It makes Zolf shrink away from him, wincing a bit, and that feels good too - even if it shouldn’t.

“You could’ve… you could’ve stayed.” Oscar says, his voice trembling a little. It’s so damn exposing to be in love. “You could’ve helped me fix things.”

Zolf frowns, extending his hand until his palm covers Oscar’s. It does absolutely nothing to make him feel better. “S’what I’m trying to do, Oscar.”

His heart clenches. “Do you have to do it so far away?”

For a horrible moment, he worries that all he’ll have managed to achieve with his longing is to chase Zolf away even sooner. He closes his eyes and lets his head drop, tears prickling behind his eyelids. 

Then there’s a hand against his cheek, urging his head up. Oscar opens his eyes and looks straight into Zolf’s stormy green gaze, tumbling so deep that he fears he might drown.

“I’m not leaving because of you. You’re what I need, Oscar. But I’m not…” He sighs. “I’m not fucking ready.”

Zolf’s thumb deftly catches up the tear that tracks down his cheek. 

“I am.” 

“I know,” Zolf says. “I know. Wait for me?”

Oscar leans heavily into the support of Zolf’s palm and is the most honest he dares to be.

“Yes, darling. Always.”

[theplottdump]

ＳＩＤＥ ＰＬＯＴＴ - ＰＵＲＥ ＨＥＤＯＮＩＳＭ - PART 1 🔞 - 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝟼: 𝚅𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚍 -

heat level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 (It's Smut with a Plot) content warnings: simdick, choking, graphic depictions of gay sex, I'm literally warning you now!!

Forward: This scene is something that I wanted to write anyway for the main plott eventually, and the PG-13 parts will end up popping up again in the main storyline - but for Valentines smut sake I thought it would be fun to jump ahead and take way farther than reasonably necessary. Godspeed. Don't say I didn't warn you. PART ONE: ( The One with the Plott, Rating PG ) PART TWO: ( The One with the Smut, Rating R )

[ 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ] Shortly after finding himself on the receiving end of the beratement of a lifetime, Valerian announced to that perhaps it was time for everyone to get some rest.

And yes, perhaps it was just a hurried excuse to retreat upstairs with his metaphorical tail placed firmly between his legs- but so what? He much preferred the comfort and privacy of his own bedroom anyway.

There, to his relief he found his fiancé finishing up his nightly routine- cut short by both the lack of expensive creams- left in his room upstairs, and an incessant, tired kiss carefully placed in the crook below his jawbone; Val wrapping his stray arm around Chad's torso.

Val let out a frustrated sigh against his neck, his lips refusing to vacate their favorite spot. "That bad?" "You are hereby banned from leaving me alone with that woman ever again." he grumbled as Chad let out a small snort in response.

"Sunny's tucked in?" "All taken care of. Now it's your turn, wash up- it's been a long day." "You are too good to me." "And don't you forget it."

Chad pulled the taller man down to meet his height, rewarding him for the day's bravery with a warm, familiar, and well practiced kiss before pushing him towards the shower.

Valerian conceded to being undressed by his fiancé, layers of expensive wool and tweed crumpling to the ground unceremoniously as he was placed under a running shower head- hot water washing away the pent up stress. Turning, he saw a dark cloud pass over his partner's face.

"Something is bothering you." It wasn't a question. After years together Val could place a meaning to Chad's every tick and glance. If asked, he could chart a map of his face, noting every wrinkle with a time and place of origin. "Is it that easy to tell?" "Distractingly so."

Chad's thoughts flashed back to his conversation earlier in the evening- Poppy was right, per usual. Had it really been 10 years? "I've been thinking-" "A dangerous practice indeed." Val flashed a wry smile as he maneuvered past him towards the main portion of the bedroom.

"Valerian-" "I don't understand how you can tolerate that insidious woman." "Val, she's your sister." "Don't rub it in. Coming in here like she bought and paid for the place, rattling off a list of my flaws and failures. This is my home damn her, I am happy- WE are happy."

Chad skirted around Val as he concluded his rant, silencing him with two hands placed on his partner's bare chest, still damp from the shower.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." "Please do not tell me you actually agree with that wretched snake of a woman."

"Valerian, how long have we been together?" "Ten years, two seasons, and thirteen days," he replied with no hesitation, as if he had been running a counter to keep track, "Leanne can provide you with a more accurate estimate if required." "No, no, that's fine."

"Val, do you remember the promise you made me in that elevator, 10 years ago? Do you remember what you told me?"

"Ten Years, two seasons, and thirteen days-" he corrected him, in a way that most sane people would find annoying. "But yes, of course." he finished.

Chad drew him in close again, their heartbeats complementing one another as they often did.

"Valerian Plott, will you marry me?"

"Took you long enough."

Before Chad could even attempt to pull the man closer for a kiss to finalize the moment, Val had sprung back with a newfound energy and vigor, addressing the house AI directly.

"HANSEL please inform Leanne that her presence is requested immediately."

"You called?" "FUCKMEwheredidyoucomefrom-" Chad yelled, nearly jumping out of his skin details, as Leanne appeared to instantaneously materialize behind him like some sort of electronic ghost.

"Yes, thank you Leanne." Valerian replied coolly, unfazed by her rapid appearance. "Mr. Chinsley has just informed me that he wishes to resume the nuptial process." "Very good sir, shall we begin with the vows then?" Chad hurriedly cut them both off.

"What!? Not RIGHT NOW!"

Val studied his partner quizzically. "Correct me if I misspeak, but did you not just directly express to me you'd like to finalize our long delayed marriage?"

"But- there's a whole process! Paperwork to file, things to plan!" Chad shot back, visibly confused at how the moment had devolved so rapidly. "Correct. Vexus has kept the documents on retainer until he received final confirmation from Party B- that would be you Mr. Chinsley."

The cogs started to turn in the back of Chad's cerebral cortex. "You've had the documents… filed." "Yes sir." "For how long exactly?" "Ten Years, Two Seasons, Twelve Days, Sixteen Hours, Thirty-Six minutes, and 12, 13, 14, 15 seconds. We've had to re-file after every patch."

Chad slowly swiveled back to meet Val's steel coated irises once again. "You're psychotic."

"Thank you for noticing Agent." Val raised his eyebrows, amused at the compliment. "Now, shall we continue? Leanne please pull up the vows on file. Draft D6 Please." "Right away sir."

The supervillain readjusted his gaze to that of his partner, confidence dropping slightly as he finally paused to study Chad's reaction.

"You're upset."

"Valerian, tell me truthfully- when I asked you to marry me, did you think I meant right this exact moment?"

"Well obviously," the villain replied plainly, before continuing, "But if you wish to include Helianthus in the process, I can have HANSEL wake her up and send her down-"

Chad cut him off, moving forward slightly to place a hand on either side of the man- steadying him for what he would say next. "Valerian, I want a wedding."

A heavy anticipatory silence that fell over the room, as the Agent waited for a response from his fiancé.

"Oh."

Chad watched on as Val's countenance grew dark- a familiar weather pattern rolling in, his cold eyes growing stormier- as a thundercloud raged behind his glasses.

He slowly released his grip, the look was familiar to him of course- Valerian was not processing this request well.

He readjusted his focus to his assistant, who had been silently observing the interaction with the AI approximation of befuddlement. "Leave us."

A simple order but one that lashed out from his mouth like tropical lightning snapping the branch off an unlucky tree. "Yes sir."

( CONTINUES TO PART 2 🔞 )

[certifieddorianandcassiansimp]

Bryce Quinlan

okay. I don’t think I’ve expressed my dislike for the main female of Crescent City enough. Here are my reasons and a little bit of ranting and comparisons.

Bryce Quinlan is SPOILED. She always gets what she wants for the consequences be damned.

Bryce refused Connor for so long only to promise a date THE DAY she breaks up with her boyfriend and he dies.

She acts like Danika couldn’t have kept anything from her and continues to be hurt over it when she was a rebel. Danika had the right to keep things and didn’t do anything wrong.

She ignores everything, not just advice, but common sense. In HOEAB, she basically doesn’t listen to anyone who says anything to her, she also doesn’t shy away from literal demons trying to kill her. (This is a common case of MCS but still.)

she’s a terrible mate. This is shown mostly in HOFAS when she dismisses Hunt over and over again, when his fears are very much valid.

she doesn’t take responsibility. Bryce Quinlan murdered two Fae kings and basically said that she didn’t want the kingdoms and all fae should suffer except her small group of people because of her father. That’s petty.

She doesn’t have a sense of urgency, she turns everything into a joke. And yes I know humor is a coping mechanism but you’re seriously going to stand there and joke about dying to your mate? After treating him like shit, and saying you’d come back to him when you knew you were going to sacrifice yourself, that’s not okay. And yes I know that Rhys basically did the same thing, but he never made such promises.

She is too stubborn to talk about her feelings with her own mate. Her mate begs for communication when she doesn’t give it and expects Hunt to repress his feelings as well. That’s just toxic.

She practically orders the queen of the underworld to make an antidote for a problem that’s been here for about 15,000 years in about an hour. That’s just not realistic.

Those are some reasons in general, but now I’m going to ramble about the first half of HOFAS when she was with Nesta and Azriel.

10. Bryce KNEW she was leading a deadly creature to strangers who were allowing her to live and explore as she pleased. I can’t fathom how angry this made me reading it, not just for the beloved ACOTAR characters having to do it, but it’s just unkind to your very kind captives.

11. Bryce listened to the story of Silene (I think that’s her name) with Azriel and Nesta beside her, and still didn’t trust them. 12. Bryce joked around with them, trying to understand them, but kept herself guarded, while yes, knowing your enemy is a great survival tactic, you could tell they didn’t think of her as a threat. 13. Bryce Adeline Quinlan awakened an Asteri in Prythian (or the prison, idk it’s been a while since ACOTAR.) and she didn’t even know how to kill it. In fact, she couldn’t kill it. Nesta, her badass self, slayed the crowd and the asteri. (not a complaint but I have to add the part where Az legit says ‘stick em with the pokey end!’ Love that part.)

14. After (not) defeating the asteri, she STEALS Azriel’s dagger and LEAVES. One, she stole from shadow baby and that’s never okay, two, she didn’t have plans to return it, and three, she didn’t even know how to wield it.

I also feel like Bryce should have to give something that’s a part of her up. In Feyre’s case, she gave up being human. In Aelin’s case, she gave up 90% (if not more) of her power. But then you have Bryce Quinlan. Around 24 years old, all three parents alive (until book three), and has nothing sacrificed. She should be shot down.

Okay I think I’m done now. But I have to say that after all of this I’d like to point out that I love the Maasverse and Crescent City, but I personally think it would be best without Bryce Quinlan as the main character. Thank you for coming to my Blab-Tok, goodbye.