#recover my chime account

[marketfreshfics]

Like Rabbits | Garreth x f!MC

Header image: @newbienewness ✦ 4327 words ✦ NSFW content (MDNI), aged-up characters, unnamed female MC (no use of y/n), alcohol consumption, admission of feelings/slight proposition, masturbation, spanking, p in v, light dom/sub elements ✦ Plot? What plot? This was honest to god just an excuse to write about Garreth in a rabbit costume ✦ Read it below the cut or on AO3

Easter festivities were a rarity at Hogwarts, yet when an opportunity for revelry arose, the seventh-years seized it with unbridled enthusiasm.

For generations, a pact among students governed the hosting duties on such occasions. The house with the fewest points bore the responsibility (and, by consequence, the aftermath) of throwing the celebration. Slytherin, enduring a dismal streak, found themselves reluctantly poised to shoulder the burden once more, the third time not necessarily the charm. As the soon-to-be graduates gathered amidst their diminished house, they sampled the exotic hors d'oeuvres with subdued chatter, their ranks thin and their spirits somewhat subdued, shooing a curious first year who had risen from bed to visit the loo.

You couldn't help but notice the lacklustre effort put forth, evident in the half-hearted swirling of your drink and the telltale lines of boredom etched upon your brow. Natsai, however, who displayed a downright lackadaisical disinterest, was already poised to depart for the evening. "I do think the Slytherins should dedicate more focus to their house standings to avoid committing another crime such as this party."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips in response, prompting an eye-roll from Imelda as she fished a hair from her drink. "Blame Sallow, we’re still recovering from his little bridge stunt."

The memory evoked a ripple of amusement; the viaduct bridge, unimposing as ever one moment, became a terrifying tangle of devil’s snare that multiplied out of control, requiring several days' worth of Confringo to eradicate.

"I’ll let you know I’m still working through detention for that." Sebastian, the culprit in question, shot a wry grin as his classmates riled with snickers, much to his chagrin. "I was only practicing the Geminio charm for Ronen’s assignment! At his recommendation, mind you, I performed it outside on a plant! I swear, Professor Weasley was just trying to-"

"Did someone mention Weasley?"

Heads swivelled towards the echo of an announced arrival from the staircase, and before questions and curiosities could be posted, Garreth Weasley sauntered down the spiral steps wearing a riot of pink cotton with two lapin ears sprouting from his crown. The seventh-years all hollered and laughed at the sight, save for Leander, who appeared wholly unamused by his fellow Gryffindor’s getup. "The bloody hell, Garreth?"

"What?" He grinned at the tall redhead. "Surely we couldn't have a proper Easter festivity without a rabbit present? Where’s the fun in that?"

Leander's jab echoed into the rim of his goblet before he took a sip. "Is that what’s been stuffed under your bedframe for the past month? You look ridiculous."

Undeterred, Garreth opted instead to, well, air his abundance of comfort. "Yes, but I feel incredible. Quite breezy down here, innit?"

Spiked cider sputtered from Sebastian then, dribbling down his chin. "Are you wearing anything under that poacher’s pelt?"

"Isn’t my smile enough for you, Sallow?"

Yet, despite yourself, your curiosity persisted, occasionally wandering to the vicinity of his lap. Heat rose to your cheeks, unrelated to the effects of alcohol, as you observed the subtle jostle there. It was a wager, you thought, with a flush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks, that Garreth Weasley remained, by all accounts, an honest man.

"What even is this fabric?" Natsai protested, pinching the fold of fluff near her housemate’s bicep. "It appears to be rather flammable."

"Now that would provide ample entertainment for the evening." Ominis chimed in nearby, his attention still fixed on his wand-led readings, seemingly uninterested in the fraternization.

"One at a time, darlings." Garreth, the ever-enthusiastic lion, swung a wicker-weave basket to and fro, reminiscent of some fictional harbinger of joy. Nestled within the dried grass padding were several small bottles of firewhisky, a smattering of cauldron cakes, and various other treats from Honeydukes. "I knew the Slytherins were in desperate need of a Pepperup, so I've come to spread the merriment. Snakes enjoy chocolate frogs, don't they?"

"I thought snakes typically ate rabbits," Imelda quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Garreth didn't miss a beat in his response to her jest. "If I were none the wiser, Reyes, I'd wager you'd like to take a hop around my carrot—"

A muttered expletive signalled the departure of the quidditch captain, leaving behind a chorus of laughter.

You found yourself enthusiastically joining in, relishing the unexpected amusement of the evening. As the crowd dispersed, you approached Garreth to select a treat of your own.

"Happy Easter, beautiful." Garreth's voice dipped low, laced with a suggestive tone that he often employed in your company. "Care to take a seat on the Easter bunny's lap and tell me what you want to find in your basket tomorrow morning?"

"That's Santa Claus," you teased in return.

"My mistake."

The flirtations between Garreth and yourself had become somewhat of a tradition throughout your Hogwarts enrollment, though they never progressed beyond playful banter. Here and now, with alcohol’s nack for unbarring inhibitions, the thought of advancing motions with the cheeky Gryffindor didn’t seem like such an unreachable feat.

"You seem rather warm in that outfit," you observed, noting the slight sheen above his brow.

Garreth chuckled. "It's rather steamy in here, indeed. But not to worry, I can… ventilate if needed." Handing you a small package of honeycomb with a coy smirk, he added, "Here, I think you'll enjoy this one."

Before you could inquire further, Garreth was already moving through the lively crowd, intent on distributing more sweets and cheers. With a huff of amusement, you tore into the package of honeycomb, only to notice some writing on the pleat of the wrapper.

'Do you know what rabbits are known for? I think we could do it better. Tell me when you’re ready, and we can hop off for the night.'

The implications hit you like lightning.

Copious procreation.

Flammable or not, your gaze practically burned through the back of Garreth's fluffy pink ensemble as he disappeared into the throng of students.

---

While the evening bled into night, even with the bolstering presence of libations coursing through your veins, the mere idea of approaching Garreth at the night's end had your insides all tangled. Harmless flirtations aside, this was a full-on proposition. What if the request was meant for someone else?

Then again, he’d deliberately dedicated the honeycomb to you…

---

Somewhere between a refilled goblet and the honeycomb wrapper now tucked into your brazier like some love letter from a sweetheart posted overseas, your prior suspicions of Garreth’s costume being rather warm were confirmed. The redhead retracted an arm inside the suit, while the other unzipped the front to his navel, exposing his bare chest as he tied the sleeves around his hips.

At that moment, propriety yielded to fascination, and any pretense of restraint evaporated as you found yourself captivated by the contours of his soft yet sculpted physique. A twinge of envy stirred within you, brought on by the admiring glances of the two Hufflepuff witches directed his way from the sidelines.

Garreth leaned against the wall, a slight trickle of sweat central to his chest, freckles all flushed from alcohol and flirtations, and seeing the wizard looking entirely dishevelled in his buzzed state did something truly wonderful for your inhibitions. Downing the rest of your pep talk, you crossed the common room, approached him near the enchanted piano, and promptly cupped a hand to his ear.

"I’m ready to… hop off, for the night." You whispered, the heat carried with it curling into the shell of cartilage.

"Yeah?" Garreth’s grin settled into a keen sort of coy, and his gaze went all honed-in and confident, leaning into you with some additional insinuations in those glassy greens of his. "Sure you don’t want to linger a bit longer in this charming mildew?"

His stray dig was not lost on Sebastian, who promptly threw Garreth a pointed warning without threat behind it, bopping an ear of his fuzzy getup.

"Settle down, Sallow," Garreth chortled, relieving his cup of its contents before boldly taking your hand. “We know the snakes always host the most splendid of shindigs.”

A chorus of wolf-whistles heralded your departure, along with someone’s award-winning remark about calling Garreth ‘Thumper.’

Down the adjacent hallway you went, past another couple that was long since lip-locked, and the firewhisky fuzz in you sought the very same. At the end of the hallway that connected to the Slytherin dormitories, coincidentally located at the intersection of friendship and something more, you shoved Garreth against the wall and claimed that magical mouth of his with your own.

For all the smart comments, the witty banter, the years of flirtations that stacked the deck and colored your cheeks, Garreth melted against you, a mess of vulnerability and desire. His body responded eagerly, exploring newfound territories with a hunger born of longing. Eventually, his body caught up to the priority of the situation, wrapping both arms around you with eager motions and traveling to all the locations he’d only dreamt of visiting before.

You were moving then—perhaps another student was evicting you from the open area, nudged aptly to ‘get a room’—but at one point or another, between lips, between moans, and those magical, heated renditions of your name, you found yourselves in a vacant dormitory.

"Who’s room is this?" You pondered breathlessly.

Garreth didn’t seem to give two shits as you all but crashed into the bedroom, nearly toppling an oil lamp, sending it teetering on its pegs as you collided with a bedpost. "Don’t know, don't care."

And that conversation promptly died in between your mouths, somewhere in the tangle of your tongues, as Garreth captured your wrists, holding them above your head as he trailed kisses along your throat. Plush, pink lips planted sweet kisses, while the scuff of end-of-day stubble bit friction in their wake.

"Garreth," You murmured with a shallow draw of breath. "You… you fancy me?"

"Oh, we’re well past fancying, love." His tone dipped back into devious territory, the same place where feelings like desire and longing and, goodness, arousal held court. “I’m onto the craving stages of our little tryst, myself. And right now… I need you.”

In response to his confession, your leg instinctively hitched over his hip, eliciting a low groan as he captured his bottom lip between teeth, a rewarding gesture that spoke volumes without a word.

His grip on your wrists was released, instead seeking the supple curve of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the nearest bed. Settling you down with a sense of urgency, the mattress dipped with his company, and he enveloped you in his embrace, hungering for more of the kisses that fueled his wet dreams.

Garreth pulled back, settling on his knees above you, a pleased grin playing on his lips as he panted, as if suddenly realizing something, perhaps in response to the whisper of a zipper against his bare chest. "Why aren't you naked yet?"

You laughed, mischief set free as you met his gaze. "Excuse me? What about romance? Shouldn't you be wooing me or, I don’t know, engaging in some foreplay?"

The redhead chewed his lip, and it stretched with eagerness. “Of course. Where are my manners? Though I’m still taking all of your clothes off right now, I’ve waited long enough for my Easter present.”

"You don’t exactly give gifts for Easter."

There wasn’t much room left for protest, however, as Garreth all but tore your skirt from your waist, his expression telling of the countless times he’d imagined doing so, perhaps somewhere into his fist or while soaking in the shower. The billow of linen and cotton was discarded with such haste that you thought he’d taken some unspoken offence to the garment, but then his efforts were being spent on tugging your underwear down. A breath born from an expletive ensured you were plenty wet for the introduction.

Verdant irises were engulfed by pupils blown wide, as Garreth drank in the sight of your sex. "God… my imagination could never."

"Like what you see, do you?" You giggled nervously, knees bent and pressed together in honest reflex.

"You have no bloody idea how much I like what I see," he replied with a grin, his gaze tracing every contour of your exposed skin. "...what am I supposed to do now?" It was his turn for a nervous chuckle, palming whatever flesh he made contact with, his demeanour akin to that of a tourist in need of directions.

A soft moan rewarded his efforts. "Whatever you desire... I'm yours for the night, remember?"

And to seal the proverbial deal, you peeled the ruched top up and over your head, unhooked your brazier immediately after, and bit the web of your cheek as you expedited it to the floor, joining the rest of your clothing expenditures.

The honeycomb wrapper fluttered onto your stomach, and Garreth raised an amused brow. "A fond little souvenir, hmm?"

"It’s sentimental, shut up." You purred, quieting his jests with bare chests pressed, and he saw no room for further comment on the matter. Garreth was all mouth then, kissing from lips to chin to lobe as he tutted. "Before we truly make like rabbits and fornicate," He couldn’t help the huff that followed, hearing himself say such a big boy word, "there's something I want to do first."

"Tell me," you urged quietly, fingers tangled in fiery copper curls. "Tell me what you want to do to me..."

"Well, for starters..." He kissed a breadcrumb trail from your neck to your shoulder, "I want to hold you in my arms and get you off."

"Oh god," anticipation drenched your mound and arched your back. "Yes, Garreth, please…"

The sound of your voice sent shivers down his spine, confirming the suspicions he had harboured for months. Curated Gryffindor courage made his heart swell, and his hands trailed down to both hips, maneuvering you around until your back pressed against his chest, playing little and big spoons. Garreth's lips found their way to the curve of your ear, where teeth and lips took turns teasing your lobe. "Comfy?"

"Very much so," you mewled, surrendering to his magnetic presence, your bare back pressed against his chest while you lay on your side. Your hips instinctively moved in synchrony with his, firm against fluffy pink fabric slung low on his waist, and there it is—that stiffness underneath the plush that has your mouth watering and your groin humming. A snort erupted from you at the reminder of the rabbit costume, partially undressed, entirely inappropriate.

"What's that, sweetheart? Gonna share with the class?" He tsked then, and a mischievous grin adorned his face as he felt the delightful pressure of your hips against his own. "Might I… take a dip?"

"Yes," you breathed, already writhing, already wanting, even though his exploration had only just commenced. "Please, Garreth... please..."

And so Garreth learned a lot about himself then; your pleading revealed a new kink. He nuzzled your neck with a mischievous grin, his touch growing more daring as a hand dipped lower; as soon as his fingers gently caressed the carnal crux between your thighs, your neck arched a bit harshly, but that was just fine; you were too absorbed in thoughts of holy fuck, Garreth is rubbing my clit.

The prompt response surprised him, but your brash expression had an undeniable allure. A playful smile appeared on his face as he leaned in and whispered in your ear. "Merlin, this wet for me already? So generous..."

"Can’t believe I’m getting fingered by someone in a bunny costume.”

“Fingered by me in a bunny costume, thank you.” Garreth began sucking over your jugular to elicit a sweet little cry from your mouth, and with the flesh popping audibly, no doubt where a bruise would bloom, he whispered, "You're going to feel splendid around me, beautiful.”

"I want you, Garreth." Grinding your pelvis into both his palm and his dick certainly conveyed as much. It echoed the heat that built over months of minute gestures, sidelong glances, and jokes made at each other’s expense.

"I want you, too." His hand moved with purpose, with three fingers flat against your bud, dipping to explore your intimate depths while those tactful lips brushed the upward jut of your neck. An arm snaked under you and around your middle, palming a breast with a multitasking maneuver that made you squirm.

"Garreth," you whimpered as he caressed your wetness, throwing petrol on the fire within you. You found a rhythm that harmonized with the symphony he composed. "Yes, yes..."

"What is it, baby?" His thumb made love to that throb and swell of nerves, eyes closed in concentration as he leaned closer, exhalation hot on your shoulder.

"I want to come for you," you rasped, testifying that which sought to consume you. "Please… faster…"

Garreth's explorations intensified, and the sound of your slick arousal punctuated each movement. An almost accomplished smile curled his lips, relishing the subtle power he held over you. "Do my fingers feel good?" His voice danced all hushed and seductive, the grate of alcohol and lust on his throat.

You were lost in the whims of his touch, unfolding in his hands. As he quickened the pace of his fingers, your body arched along the river banks of abandon, edging closer to release. "I know something that would feel even better."

He possessed an innate knowledge of the words that would stoke the fire within you. "We’ll get there," he whispered, his breath hot on your racing pulse. "First… come for me."

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice trembling with the impending climax that welled within. His finger movements, an audacious symphony between soaked folds, carried you ever closer. "I'm… I'm… "

As your cries of pleasure came forth with volume, Garreth focused his efforts on your clitoral hood, applying firm pressure as opposed to frantic fingering, intent on prolonging the spasms. At the same time, your body practically sang his praises, and he offered the same in return. "Good girl. Now... are you ready for me?"

You panted, flipping over to face him with a breathless peppering of kisses, flush with gratitude. “Keep calling me a good girl like that, and I will be,” you breathed, gently biting his bottom lip.

He was quick on the draw, bless him. "Good girl.”

Eager motions resumed, bodies practically clinging together. "I want you inside me, Garreth." You squirmed underneath, anticipating his taking. “Let me be your good girl; take me from behind…”

Without hesitation, Garreth shifted you onto your stomach faster than his brain could sort sense of the idea. He grabbed you by the hips, repositioning you on the bed with precision, with his trademark combination of dominance and fondness. You stabilized on elbows, swaying your hips like the comely creature you were.

"Is this what my good girl wants?" he smirked, devouring the gradual parting of your legs, the invitation for him to claim what is rightfully his.

"Yes," you practically pleaded, thrumming to feel the weight of his hands upon your hips, to experience his penetration. "Please, baby... spank me."

He processed the request with his mouth slightly agape in surprise at your words. No one had ever made such a request to him before. "Are you asking me to spank my good girl?"

A coy nod over your shoulder and a bitten lip conveyed your consent. "Yes, please... I'll be good..."

"Say it properly.” The command was all supplicant and alluring, while ravenous hands sampled your inner thighs.

“Please, Garreth…” You whimpered, practically dripping. “Please, spank me.”

"That's better..."

A palm thunderclapped across your rear with unexpected force. Another followed in quick succession, harder than the first, and you cried a simpering symphony. Hips swayed and rutted, knees threatened to buckle, and your back arched as heat rooted deep. "More, please, baby..."

His breath hitched as he took in your heartfelt plea, spurred on by something that mingled and met with testosterone, compelling him to venture into unexplored realms, a captive yearning for sweet freedom. Garreth employed the enthralling control he had over you as he gripped your hips possessively, while his palm branded your buttocks.

"So good," you gasped, and each contact drew forth a garbled moan.

A mischievous smirk played across the lion’s face, as he darkened at the welting consequences of his actions. He prolonged the inevitable. "Oh, is that so?" His hand descended once more, his touch deliberate, unhurried.

"Yes, oh god..." You yearned for a proper fuck, to have your hips hammered, longed to stretch intimately around him. With your bottom lip caught between teeth, you glanced back at Garreth, exuding an eager and willing demeanour. "Baby, please..."

The taut heat of his cock nestled against your rear. Nimble fingers curled into your waist, drawing you closer, and then Garreth discovered the full extent of your arousal. "So wet for me..."

"Only for you, baby..." You pushed your hips back, feeling entirely too empty all of a sudden. "Garreth, I need you inside of me… please, take me... "

"Oh, I'm going to take you, all right."

And then, in a display of vulnerability, he guided you closer with hesitant hands seeking comfort on your thighs. With a shared breath, Garreth aligned himself, gathering warmth and wetness in kind on his cock, and announced his entry with an audible exhale.

Like a reflex, your back arched, writhing serpentine along his length as Garreth bottomed out. He provided experimental thrusts, gradually quickened the pace, and soon you were sucked into a beautiful pattern.

A primal moan parted lips in an unfiltered expression of longing as he delved deeper, as Garreth bucked from behind. Bending down, he pressed an enthusiastic kiss to your nape, grunting with the forceful motion of his fuck. With every thrust, his lips on your neck sent shivers down your spine, and with how desperate he was to hold you close, Garreth clutched you close and brought your torso upright, swaying in rhythm, your bodies making sense of one another’s.

"Oh, baby girl…" The wizard purred into your ear with a strong forearm clamped over your torso and a firm grasp tangled in your hair. He tugged at your strands as he increased his pace, the pricks of pulled nerves eliciting a gasp. His grip across your midsection anchored you to his chest, the tight hold leaving crescent marks of possession into the swell of a breast. A lovely, lewd sound escaped his throat as your hips began to meet his movements, the overwhelming pleasure consuming him entirely.

Your back pressed against his chest, and you contorted in all the right ways. With a head tilted back, your sights set on the heavens, surrendering to the moment. "Fuck me, baby. Hold me tight..."

"I’m not letting go," The words were all breath, the sound caught on the brimming heart stuck in his throat, as he leaned down to bite your neck. "You're... you're mine..."

Your hand instinctively snaked between your legs, choking your clit between index and middle digits. The intense sensation of Garreth's plumbing your depths brought you to the brink, surpassing your wildest expectations. "Oh god, Garreth, I'm... I'm coming...”

A shriek was stifled as you came hard and raw, your abdomen releasing pressure buildup as you rocked against Garreth’s cock like it was your saving grace, coaxing and prolonging your release as you disengaged from body and mind, almost going slack in his arms. The announcement, the tightness of your orgasm propelled him fuck to his full potential, chorused by your cries. He teetered on the brink, his equilibrium delicately balanced as he held onto your hip, thrusting deeper inside with each exhalation, his movements deliberate and steadfast.

The bed protested audibly as you rocked on your knees, punctuating your passionate connection. You coaxed him with a voice still raw and made all the more ragged from your climax. "Come, baby…"

Your words were the catalyst of his coming. Garreth buried his face into the back of your neck, breathing ragged and erratic as the boundless excitement that you built within him finally burst forth in a breathtaking culmination. He surrendered to an overwhelming release, spilling himself deep within.

Collapsing forward, he pressed you into the bed, his body weight a comforting presence upon you. You let out a sound of satisfaction as he settled on your back, your inner thighs slick with evidence of your shared release. An inward sigh of fulfillment escapes you while you tilt to plant a kiss on his cheek. "God, that was even better than the first."

"You’ve rendered me boneless, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. “I’m utterly spent.”

You couldn't help letting out a soft chuckle; your fingers naturally entwined with his as you both shifted onto your sides. When your eyes met, they reflected a sense of contentment and gratification. "Me too," you admitted, your voice soothing in the quiet aftermath. "Spent and drained..."

Garreth's hand tightened around yours, conveying tenderness. His lips curled into a gentle smile, a sparkle of admiration flickering in his gaze. Compelled by magnetism, you gravitated close, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. "Stay," you murmured, longing to extend this moment of closeness.

The chuckle he responded with caught you off guard until you realized that you hadn’t the foggiest idea whose bed you just expressed your feelings in. "Ah, I see," you laughed, begrudgingly reaching for your clothes.

As you tugged each article of clothing on, Garreth adjusted the rabbit costume back into place, and you devolved into a fit of giggles. “Did you even take off that ridiculous get-up?”

“Listen, love,” Garreth smirked, claiming your chin with impish intent. “I just fucked the most beautiful woman in our year wearing this. I won't soon be criticizing its charm.”

You leaned closer to kiss him, as breathless as he made you feel. “Fair enough.”

[scoobydoodean]

Dean not wanting Sam to go off alone in 5.02 is completely reasonable. They think they're on a demon case, and the ONLY time Dean has seen Sam drink demon blood, it was when Sam wrestled a demon he was fighting to the ground and drank from her neck right in front of Dean and Cas who he'd been keeping the entire thing from. He was so desperate for a hit he completely forgot/didn't care anymore. So Dean KNOWS the desperation Sam is capable of and exactly what he might do to get a taste of demon blood.

Sam may have gotten the "Supernatural methadone" treatment, but he still feels the psychological component of the addiction—the desire for the power the demon blood gives him, and that's very clear when Sam stands there staring at the "demon" blood on his hands in the store and only gets distracted from his obvious temptation when the door chimes and he needs to take cover again.

What's more, he as good as tells Dean that he wishes he had his powers again after killing the "demons" in the store. He says, "I just wish I could save people like I used to". He denies that that's his meaning, but exactly what else could that possibly mean? It's the same argument he made in 4.04 in the earlier stages of his use of demon blood, before it all went totally to shit with the inflated ego and the increasing lack of empathy and the increased appetite and the withdrawal symptoms when he didn't get a taste often enough. It's the early stages of a return to exactly where he was.

It is NOT irrational to suggest maybe Sam shouldn't be going off alone by himself on a case where they are surrounded on all sides by demons. Sam is essentially a recovering alcoholic trapped in an endless liquor store, and Dean is trying to keep him in the mixer isle or at least say "let me go down the isle with the rum with you", but Sam can't stand the idea of having anyone there to hold him accountable. His reaction (shoving Dean into the wall for thinking he might fall off the wagon) is fucking ridiculous, and it's even more ridiculous that he does it 1) literally RIGHT AFTER telling Dean he wishes he had his powers again (then insisting that isn't what he meant when there is literally nothing else he could mean). 2) A scene after he stood there staring at the "demon" blood on his thumb and on the knife, in the store, and only got distracted from his obvious temptation when the door chime rang.

The shove also only reinforces for Dean that he's right about this, and you can tell that's what makes Sam stop and realize he shouldn't pursue a fight further—that he's only digging his own grave, and it's pointless, because Dean already told him an episode ago that he doesn't trust him. He says,

Oh, that's right, I forgot. You think I'll take one look at a demon and suddenly fall off the wagon, as if, after everything, I haven't learned my lesson.

But... Sam hasn't... actually said yet that he doesn't want to drink demon blood anymore? He's said that Dean and Bobby warned him about it and he didn't listen, but he hasn't actually at any point said that he'd never consider drinking it again. He just said he doesn't have withdrawl symptoms because "whoever put me on that plane cleaned me right up." Like many of his actual motivations for drinking demon blood haven't been addressed at all and he just did the exact opposite of say he would never consider it again right before he says this so angrily.

[rems-writing]

So what's the difference?

Pairing: customer!Mingi × shop owner gn!reader

Summary: Mingi doesn't know the difference between two stringed instruments. He's trying y'all 🥲

Warning(s): none

Genre: A bunch of fluff

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Thank you to @bunnliix for assigning me this trope

You own and run a small business that sells instruments. Stringed, brass, woodwind, and so on. Mr. Gold, or Rumpelstiltskin, helped you in building the business and taught you how to run it. You were writing down the purchases the customers made in your logbook when you heard the familiar chime of the bell, indicating that someone came into the shop. You looked up and your knees almost gave out.

A tall and handsome man wandered into the shop and you gulped nervously as he approached you. He had long silver hair, sharp eyes that were very much similar to a wolf, a pretty nose, prettier lips, a sharp jawline, and nice hands.

Very nice hands.

Hands that were covered in big rings.

He was only wearing a white tee and gray sweats yet he still looked godly in this otherwise bed fit.

"Hi! Welcome to the Swan Song! I'm Y/N. Let me know if you have any questions."

The guy nodded shyly and gave you a small grin before looking around.

It had been around three hours since he wandered in. You were helping other customers whilst keeping an eye on him. After the customers left, he approached you and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Sorry. I might sound dumb but uh... what's the difference between a violin and a viola?"

His deep voice resonated throughout the small shop and you found the question endearing.

"Well the main difference is their ranges."

From there, you explained the difference between the violin and the viola. You explained it in a way that he can understand and he was nodding along, making mental notes while he listened tentatively. Once you finished, he pointed to a violin on the rack behind you.

"I'd like to purchase that one please."

You nodded and got the violin off the rack before placing it in a black case. You made sure the bows were in proper shape before closing it and handing it to him. You rang him up and he took out a few bills before giving them to you.

"Keep the change. This is my way of saying thanks for sharing your expertise."

He winked at you before taking the violin and exiting the shop.

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

That was almost three weeks ago. Three times every week, he would come in. He became a regular at this point. He would either come in to have the strings changed, the bow rehaired, or to simply talk your ear off. As it turns out, the violin was a gift for one of his friends.

That friend's name was Yeosang.

His name was Mingi.

Business was particularly slow today and you were tired. You were still recovering from taking care of baby Gideon, Belle and Rumpel's son. He was a good baby!

He just happened to cry a lot during the night for some odd reason.

As soon as the couple came home, you informed them and they took it into account before thanking you and paying you a hefty amount.

You had your head bent over the counter and buried in your arms as you tried to catch up on sleep. You didn't hear the chime and someone walking in until you felt a presence in front of you and a deep voice talk softly and quietly in your ear.

"Hey, baby."

You immediately shot awake and looked at Mingi, who had a shit eating grin on his face. Had it not been for the fact that you were enamored with this guy, you would've swung at him.

"Oh. Hey, Mingi."

"Long night I assume?"

"Yeah."

"So why did you open up shop if you knew you were going to be tired?"

You shrugged. You honestly had no idea. It was probably a force of habit. Mingi lifted your head and rubbed your chin with his thumb.

"Want to get coffee with me? It seems you need the energy boost."

Nodding along, you closed up shop and headed out with him to a cafe in Storybrooke, giddy over the fact that you were basically on a date with this guy.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Week 3 - Gathering

Oh after accidentally posting this to the wrong account...

here we go with chapter 4 of this!

Prompt: Maedhros x Fingon, Fingolfin, Finrod

Pairing: Gathering

Words: 2 090

Warnings: Sadness, betrayal, drama, and fear

“A terrible creature,” Ñolofinwë gasped and waved his hands frantically to impress upon his spellbound audience just how tall and looming his mysterious jailor had been. “With fangs like knives and claws like curved daggers…”

He put all his failing strength into this impassionate speech for he could sense the natural disbelief in the shrewd gazes of his young kinsmen—he could not fault them for believing him to be merely overcome with delirious fatigue. Had he been in their stead, he’d also have struggled to simply accept so lurid a tale.

“It has my son,” he finished his diatribe feebly. “Help me!”

“You are the King,” Findaráto, ever eager to throw himself bodily into any interesting adventure, conceded. “And if this be your command, I shall be more than happy to follow your orders.”

Ñolofinwë smiled wearily; he heard the end of the sentence his nephew didn’t speak out of respect and caution. “Even if I don’t believe a word you say.”—the meaning was there, hovering like a foul smell in the blessedly warm and dry throne room, but the King was too exhausted to take offence to Findaráto’s potentially selfish, reckless motives when all that mattered was the retrieval of his son and heir.

“I’ll be off before morning light,” Findaráto promised. “I shall assemble the best men I can rouse on such short notice. Worry not, Uncle, we’ll bring back my dear cousin. Rest and recover!”

There was deep love and earnest pity in his mellow voice now, and Ñolofinwë sank back against the soft cushions someone had piled around him as if they were afraid he’d collapse without support.

“Very good,” he croaked. “May your road be blessed!”

Nelyafinwë had managed to ignite the damp wood in the old, draughty fireplace and was now sitting back on his haunches, strangely self-conscious of his glaring nudity in the face of one dressed in such torn splendour.

“How did you get cursed?” Findekáno asked, cautiously taking a sip of his bitter, stale tea. He couldn’t fully understand the strange and cruel fairy tale in which he’d found himself, but all thoughts of murder and escape had long since fled his mind.

How could he sustain such absurd musings when the captor he’d expected to be barbaric and brutal had turned out to be a touchingly sad youth of such exquisite beauty that the Prince couldn’t bear to avert his gaze from those long, sculptural limbs for even a single moment?

“My father angered the wrong sorcerer?” Nelyafinwë sighed. He’d agonised over that very question for too long without having come to any satisfactory conclusion, and he was sick and tired of the torturous doubt rearing its venomous head every so often. “He was an angry man—haughty, dismissive, and regrettably short-sighted at times—and he must have crossed one who sought to take revenge.”

“Was? Anyway,I don’t see how that is your fault,” Findekáno interjected pointedly. “Is there nothing that can be done? It was not mere posturing that made me claim that someone will come to deliver me…and I’m afeared for your safety.”

A terrible silence fell. Then, somewhere deep within the labyrinthine bowels of the castle, a clock chimed.

“We’ll be fine,” Nelyafinwë smiled gratefully. “You must be tired; let me show you to your quarters.”

“In the dungeons?” At that thought, Findekáno’s face hardened suddenly, and his gaze automatically sought the sword he’d cast aside earlier. It lay still where he’d left it, but a pair of scissors and a hammer had inched up to it in what he could only interpret as a pose of menacing challenge.

Shaking his head, Nelyafinwë got to his feet once more. His motions were jerky and awkward as if he was no longer used to performing such mundane, unaggressive movements.

“You’ve proven that you’re willing to keep your word; you shall be given a room. I’ll attempt to make sure that all the lighting fixtures are functional—you have my leave to explore our shared prison at your ease. I’d only ask you not to intrude upon the west wing—some secrets are better left undisturbed.”

Even though he nodded, the very picture of amiable compliance, Findekáno resolved then and there to disregard the exceedingly polite and undoubtedly reasonable request.

It was amply clear to him that his host—for Nelyafinwë had supplied much-needed warmth in the form of a blazing fire and a hot drink which warranted a change in title—was reluctant to share the whole truth.

“I’ll save you yet,” the valiant warrior thought stubbornly. He would not wait for the inevitable confrontation in which he would, there was no doubt about it, lose one way or another.

Indeed, he didn’t want to see either his friends and kinsmen or this bewitching contradiction slain before he’d exhausted every other avenue.

Many an ungenerous thing had been said about his father behind his noble back, but nobody could have ever accused him of neglecting the education of his children, so Findekáno was fairly confident that he could and would devise a solid plan to reverse this unholy curse and become a rescuer rather than a mere detainee.

If only his brother or his cousin had been with him—Turukáno’s love for lore and Artanis’s uncanny instinct would surely have cut his research and frenzied cogitation in half.

Alas, all he had at his disposal was his own intellect and a fierce heart, set aflame by the endearing beauty and charm of the tall redhead now fleeing the fire’s revealing glow to plunge into the obscuring shadows of the passage leading away from the dining room.

“Will your brothers guard me?” Findekáno asked as innocently as he could, hastening after the retreating gleam of a long, white back.

“My brothers are a harp, a knife, creaking scales, a hammer, and a pair of rusty scissors respectively,” Nelyafinwë chuckled. “They might keep a screw on you—for lack of actual eyes—but I rather think that they’ll prefer hounding me for my breach of the rules.”

Feeling the biting sting of unwelcome guilt, Findekáno was about to ask whether it would be more agreeable to everyone if he spent the night in the same cell his father had only recently vacated when Nelyafinwë asked a question of his own.

“Do you have siblings?”

Findekáno sighed. “Two younger brothers and a sister. My brothers are quite unlike in temper and tastes, and my sister cannot be compared to another living being without insulting one or the other…”

“What about you? Do you share many traits with them?” Nelyafinwë turned around. The light of a nearby window washed across his sharp collarbones and his almost elfin face in a way that made it so inexplicably hard for the mesmerised onlooker to breathe that Findekáno nearly failed to so much as understand the question put to him.

“They’re much like me in some ways,” he finally said slowly. “And completely unfathomable in others. Turukáno is smarter than I could ever endeavour to be, Írissë is so fearless and independent that she frightens the living daylights out of our parents, and Arakáno is impetuous to a fault.”

“You love them dearly,” Nelyafinwë commented feelingly.

“That I do. I wish you could meet them—they would be just as fascinated by you as I am.”

“You flatter one you barely know. However, you actually might understand better than most that I also have my own brothers’ well-being in mind in everything I do and say. Unfortunately, they’re as different from one another as the seasons or the times of day, and it’s nigh-impossible to make all of them happy.”

As he spoke those words, full of regret and unequivocal devotion, Nelyafinwë halted outside a richly decorated door. “My room is just down the corridor,” he informed Findekáno in a low voice, tinged with embarrassment. “Do not hesitate to seek me out if Káno’s mewling keeps you awake—you shan’t disturb me.”

“Will you be enjoying the fleeting pleasures of your magnificent body?” As soon as the words had left his lips and returned to his own ears in an avenging echo, Findekáno flinched vehemently. “Oh, my mother would have me take nought but bread and water for a week as punishment for that comment. I meant no offence—I don’t know why I said it…like that.”

Caressing the strange and unexpectedly stimulating visitor with an unreadable look, Nelyafinwë allowed himself to display that gentle, cryptic smile that had once driven maidens and squires alike mad with delight.

“Mayhap, it’s considered unrighteous that any living man should inhabit such a dangerously corrupting form for more than half the day—justly so, if I may be so bold—and it’s in an effort to preserve the nutrition and sanity of those around you that you’re perforce deprived of so fearsome a weapon,” he muttered under his breath.

Suppressing what could have been a groan or a fit of giddy laughter, Nelyafinwë pushed open the door. “Justice—as an eternal, immutable concept—is not for us to know or to question. I bid you good night, Findekáno, honourable son, loving brother, and astounding guest. This evening might have been the best I’ll ever have, and my raging regrets have dulled into a sense of bittersweet sadness—I thank you for that.”

With a crisp bow, he withdrew, followed by various metal objects clanking after him in the impenetrable darkness.

“Good,” Findekáno whispered, not even taking the time to enjoy the exceptional beauty of his lodgings, and slipped out again noiselessly to explore the forbidden wing.

He was sure that Nelyafinwë would have to contend with a gathering of irate weapons and instruments of different natures, and he pushed aside the pang of instinctive sympathy and solidarity.

His sister often reproached him for being too loquacious, but—in this instance—he was almost certain that all the conversations he’d prompted since arriving would ultimately lead to a happy resolution of his sensitive but stirring conundrum.

Nelyafinwë didn’t need to turn around to sense his brothers’ presence.

“We cannot keep him here,” he enunciated, trying to dissimulate the note of imminent grief in his voice. “To protect and defend you, I shall set him free come morning. Once he’s seen my bestial form, he shall be glad to leave this place.”

Angry sounds of scraping metal exploded behind him, but still, he didn’t have the heart to face the lacklustre objects. In his mind, Nelyafinwë conjured up the images of his brothers as they’d once been.

Even now, he could easily recall Kanafinwë’s twinkling eyes and Morifinwë’s characteristic blush. Of all the cursed members of this family, Curufinwë The Younger might have been the only one who was relieved to no longer glimpse echoes of their father’s glory in his reflection, but even he surely regretted having been reduced to unyielding intransigence.

Turcafinwë had been cutting in his remarks and actions, and the twins undoubtedly had ever been two blades slashing in perfect synchronicity, but they’d also been warm and funny.

Nobody, not even beings of such ruthless violence as they’d been, deserved to be nought but weapons, forever barred from touch without risking injuring another.

A slow, questioning melody threaded itself into the hum of the others’ discontentment.

“No, there shall be no forgiveness for us,” Nelyafinwë replied. “I just want to prevent any unnecessary bloodshed.”

The harp’s song became more insistent, pleading without needing words.

“Yes, I did enjoy this evening, but I cannot keep him for my own pleasure,” Nelyafinwë sighed. “He has siblings as well—I’d never bereave them of their older brother any more than I could desert you lot.”

A single note, a strident accusation, cut him short. Nelyafinwë winced—he hated being reminded of his attempt to find the one who’d cursed them. Not only had he failed to undo their misery, but he’d also risked leaving his siblings stranded and rudderless.

“I’m here now,” he said, turning to his bed and lifting the sharp-edged tools onto the soft blanket one by one. “It’s you and I, forevermore. I love you.”

He couldn’t bear to close his eyes, so he lay awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the soft clangour of the resting tools.

Suddenly, an incongruous sound startled him out of his drifting reverie—he slipped off the bed and snuck out, counting the hours until sunrise.

Heavy-hearted and soft-footed, Nelyafinwë apprehensively turned towards the condemned wing to bravely face his oldest and most intimate fears.

@fellowshipofthefics

-> Masterlist

[aikaterini-drag]

Chapter 18 Reunited

Warnings (whole series): Violence, Non-Con Abduction, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual Tension, First Time, Emotional Sex, Protective Bucky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soft Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Barnes Gets all the Love he deserves.

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

Tony swirled in the air, gliding in his suit. Using his tech, he scanned the building Grace had instructed him to infiltrate. Felicity Landon's secret work lay concealed within an abandoned hotel in Croatia, safeguarded within a vault buried several meters beneath the ground. However, the entire structure was rigged to collapse at the slightest sign of a break-in. And even if they somehow managed to access the vault, all the critical information was secured within an impenetrable metal case, programmed to unlock only through Grace's iris scan.

Felicity Landon had meticulously planned every detail of this operation, accounting for potential risks and unwanted attention. Unfortunately for them, their operation was bound to attract a lot of attention. So that was their plan for today: Tony would take to the skies, launching missiles at the building while Grace and Braylon provided support from their jet. They had chosen a specific date and time to minimize civilian presence.

Once the building was torn down, Tony would analyze the scale of the collision and proceed to the vault. He'd use Iron Man's strength to dig through the remains, reach the vault and hack it open to retrieve the suitcase. Then, he would return to the jet, passing the case to Grace for her to unlock. So far, their plan unfolded seamlessly, with Braylon and Grace closely monitoring the situation.

"You're doing great, Tony," Grace's voice reverberated in his ear.

Tony let out a self-satisfied chuckle. "These new sensor missiles are pretty nifty!"

"Boss is going all out!" Braylon chimed in, deftly steering the jet away from the crumbling building.

"So much for being subtle," Grace muttered with a soft laugh.

"Subtlety isn't really my style," Tony quipped while he cleared away the wreckage and advanced to the vault.

Grace's concern surfaced. "What if Hydra is nearby?"

Braylon grinned confidently. "We'll take 'em down without breaking a sweat."

"Can't you practically smell the sweet smell of success?" Tony said as he dismantled the debris and headed toward the vault's entrance. "Found it. I'll get the case and—"

"Uh, boss, we've got unexpected visitors," Braylon interrupted. "As it appears, Captain America and his friends are on their way. Wakandan forces are intercepting our signals, taking charge of our communications—"

"Great, just what I needed," Tony grumbled, his earpiece making jagged sounds.

"Stark," Steve's stern tone resonated, cutting through the static.

Tony released an exasperated sigh. "Alright, Cap. What's the occasion?"

"The question is, what brought you here?" James echoed through the intercom, angry and anxious.

James is here... Grace thought, the mere sound of his voice filling her like warm sunshine. His sudden appearance caused her body to numb and her throat to tighten. She remained silent, completely moveless in her seat.

"Unfortunately, I can't answer that question," Tony replied in his usual cheeky tone.

"We're tracking Silas," T'Challa's voice joined the conversation as he disembarked from his aircraft. "He owes me some explanations."

"Greetings, Your Majesty," Tony responded with his trademark charm. "By all means, go ahead and have him."

Sam intervened. "Hydra soldiers approaching from the South! They're coming in real fast, probably because of the serum. Silas must be hiding somewhere close."

T'Challa hummed. "I shall deal with him."

"Where's Grace?" James asked, his voice filled with worry and impatience.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Tony replied, feigning ignorance. He let out a frustrated sigh upon noticing the glint of Barnes' arm in the distance. The ex-soldier had joined the battle and he didn't look pleased. On the contrary, he was smashing one super soldier after the other, his face a rigid grimace.

"Don't play games with me! Is she aboard your jet?" James said and peered at the floating aircraft above him. "How can you bring her out on a mission?"

"She's a guest with a special request," Tony replied. "I'm assisting her."

After some digging in cement and metal, Tony emerged from the barrage of the ruins, clutching the invaluable suitcase in his hand. Nothing could stop him from snatching it, not even the sudden commotion. He was ready to fly away when two Hydra operatives lunged at him, coming out of nowhere. He had not expected that and as a result, he got punched and tossed aside like a discarded rag.

"More company? Seriously?" Tony muttered under his breath as he quickly regained his footing, countering their assaults with swift precision. He hurled himself toward the opponents, unleashing bursts of energy from his armed gauntlets.

"I'll provide backup, boss," Braylon declared, maneuvering the jet into a strategic combat position.

"Much appreciated, Babo," Tony said, his focus on the ongoing battle. Braylon swiftly joined the battle, his shots synchronized with those from Steve's jet and the combined forces of the Wakandans.

"Why isn't she responding? Grace?" James's voice reverberated through the intercom. "Grace!"

At the sound of her name coming out of his lips, she fidgeted, butterflies churning in her stomach. Pure terror enveloped her and she did the only thing she could think of and turned off her earpiece.

"Tsk..." Tony breathed out and checked the data on his screen. "You made her turn off her earpiece. Anyway, I'm taking charge. Fend off the Hydra agents while I do my stuff."

"No!" James cried out but it was all in vain. The signal was forcefully cut off.

▪️▪️▪️

Almost an hour had passed, the fight leaving them all panting and blinking through exhaustion. James hoisted himself from the ground and approached Tony, who had just removed his iron helmet, clutching a metal suitcase in hand. They had taken down the super soldiers, but Silas was once again attempting to escape and a serious decision had to be made. Cap and Sam were chasing after him.

"Is she up there?" James said, eyes wide and icy with panic.

"Why meet her?" Tony faced him and took a cautious step forward. "It was your choice to leave her behind."

"I need to see for myself that she's safe."

Tony was about to respond, but Sam interjected, "Hate to break it to you, but T'Challa and the Dora Milage are on Silas's tail. I had my eyes on them, but they refused my help."

"In that case, we should let the Wakandans handle it," Steve advised. "Capturing Silas is a matter of honor for them. It's best if we don't interfere."

"Agreed. My job here is done," Tony said, his thrusters preparing to take flight. Yet, James seized his collar, causing them both to hover in the air.

"I'm coming with you!"

"Seriously?" Tony grumbled, grappling with the added weight. With little choice left, he adjusted their trajectory, moving through the air at a more deliberate pace. When they set foot inside the jet, they were welcomed by Babo, but Grace was nowhere to be seen.

"Welcome aboard, boss," Braylon greeted them, his gaze shifting from Tony to the huge man beside him. "And who's this? If I may ask, where—"

"Step aside," James said and strode boldly, slightly shoving him and causing him to stumble back.

"You're being a little rude, don't you think?" Tony said, trailing closely behind as they made their way inside the jet, with Braylon in tow.

"I apologize..." James slowed his pace and looked at him. "I'm grateful for what you've done, but you shouldn't have brought her on a mission."

"It was her mission," Tony corrected. "And you'll be very thankful once you hear more about it."

"That can wait," James continued, resuming his determined stride. "Right now, I need to see her."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't wish to see you," Babo said, unaware of how ill-advised his statement was.

"Don't test my patience." James clutched Braylon by the lapels of his suit and looked him dead in the eye. "I know Grace. She will see me."

"Braylon, don't provoke him. Go away." Tony gave Braylon a gentle shove then handed James the metal suitcase. "Give her this. She'll know what to do."

Bucky clutched the case tightly in his metal hand, his super soldier senses working on overload to locate Grace. Her faint scent and the rhythmic beat of her heart guided him, and when his gaze finally settled on her, a surge of relief and adoration swept through him. She stood there, safe and unharmed, as beautiful and soft as he remembered. But her eyes were weary, just like his.

Ironically, she waited for him at the very spot where he had abandoned her. A pang of guilt twisted in his gut at the realization. He took a few steps forward, and when she didn't flinch, he closed their distance. She raised her chin to glare at him, a thin stripe of air separating them.

"Give me the case," she said, attempting to appear brave and unaffected by him.

"Grace..." He set the bag down and whispered her name like a prayer. It was the only word he could utter and his voice shook uncontrollably. He just stared at her, his piercing blue eyes holding her captive.

Breathe... Grace reminded herself as the moments stretched between them. She couldn't move, breathless. His beautiful eyes were studying her, no longer striking blue but pale and worried. These were the only eyes that gave her the sense of security she had missed. She had never before experienced this fluttering sentiment, feeling as if one look from him was enough to crush all her defenses.

"I'm sorry," he said, sensing the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

"You're sorry?" she breathed in fake disbelief.

"I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry for everything. I missed you." His gaze never wavered, and she felt the weight of his regret. "How long are you going to stay angry with me?"

She looked away, her heart conflicted. "I haven't decided yet."

"I missed you. I missed you so much..."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I didn't know you could be so heartless."

"Heartless?" She let out a soft chuckle. "Between the two of us, you know very well who wears that title."

"Yes... and I paid for it dearly." His eyes plunged into despair. "I missed you. I missed you so much..."

She mumbled a hurried whisper under her breath, something he didn't quite catch. "What?"

"I said... I missed you, too," she muttered and gazed up at him, her eyes misty with tears.

"Oh, sweetness..."

He pulled her to him, his fingers curling around her with a possessive hold that stole her breath. But before she could voice her surprise, his mouth descended upon hers, capturing her in a kiss that held a raw, untamed hunger. She gasped, her initial protest melting away as his touch ignited a fire within her. Her soft lips were coaxed apart as he moaned her name and licked inside her mouth.

Her fingers instinctively found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his vest. The taste of him was intoxicating, his closeness overwhelming her senses. He pushed her back against the wall and realizing that he was getting way too bold with her, he broke away from her sweet tempting mouth.

"I'm sorry, I... I took it too far," he said, "fuck I can't. I can't stop!"

He kissed her again, swiping his tongue across her lips, parting her mouth and getting his head filled with her sweet taste. She responded eagerly, head tippling back in the cradle of his palms. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him in desperation, small delectable moans escaping her as his tongue tasted her mouth, probing in between hot and quickening breaths.

"James—mmph... we must talk," she moaned in between breathless kisses and he replied with a hum, catching her bottom lip between his teeth.

"Please, don't pull away," came his whisper, soft and wanting. "Don't ever pull away."

"I won't," she said, her fingers tracing his unshaven jaw. "I'm here."

"I know, I just—" He tightened his hold around her waist, drawing her close. "Forgive me. Please. I'll never leave you again. Never."

"Leave me?" She squeezed his face in her palms. "I've got my eyes on you, Sergeant Barnes. If you ever—even for a moment—think about leaving me again, I swear I'll give you a piece of my mind."

She attempted to wiggle away, but he thrust her against his chest. "What are you doing?"

"You said I can't leave you. I won't ever let you go."

[8iunie]

Måneskin: “When you get famous, people just want to know who you’re f**king”

The global Italian rockers open up about discovering themselves, mastering fame and finding their genderless sound. (posted on 20.01.2023)

It’s late morning and Italian rock band Måneskin are comfortably seated in a swanky West London hotel room, already kitted out in signature Gucci, jet-black eyeliner, and clean-cut 70s-style statement suits. The quartet, an electric gleam of cool against a silver-spotted setting, are nonchalantly scrunched into a deep turquoise couch. Their suave image serves as a reminder of how far they’ve come since their early Italian X Factor days.

Over a year has passed since the group’s whirlwind takeover as glam rock stars conquering the Eurovision Song Contest 2021 and they’re showing no signs of slowing down. In fact, the band’s authentic image and relentless sound has earned them over six million followers on their band’s Instagram account — a figure greater than the population living in their fashion capital hometown, Rome, where the rock and rollers were born. Måneskin’s rise as next generation figureheads isn’t too unconventional, after all, plenty of breakthrough acts – ABBA, Celine Dion, One Direction – have cut their teeth on televised competitions. And as game-changing winners, the rock band are eager to start writing their own legacy.

Måneskin’s commitment to being more than a hazy Eurovision memory is not to be unexpected. The band have committedly popped where you would least expect them – the 2021 BRIT Awards, Gucci’s luxury Aria campaign, or Disney’s live-action adaptation of Cruella – reminding us that they’re not going anywhere. And, just yesterday, the Italian artists spontaneously flew to London for a glitzy one-off showcase to debut their emo ballad, The Loneliest, co-written by British producer MNEK. While they’ve marginally recovered, the band are still buzzing from last night’s sweaty reception at Camden’s The Underworld in front of 500 die-hard fans. (“Oh my god, it was like a sauna in there,” bassist Victoria De Angelis chimes in, her voice hoarse from the manic show). It doesn’t matter if they’re pulling off last-minute sold-out performances or rubbing elbows with Guns’N’Roses, the Eurovision victors are doing it in style: flamboyantly dressed and with a compelling sense of gratitude.

Now, whether they’re rocking fashion red carpets or main stages, Måneskin are ready to make their presence felt. “We’ve gained a lot of successful things in the last year and we’re really happy about all the paths we’re going through,” drummer Ethan Torchio says, gesturing to the wider band. “We never had a specific ambition to gain or to achieve anything. It’s all about how we approach it day by day.”

While the band may not have pinned their hopes on a specific accolade, Måneskin’s shared teenage experiences primed them for their rapid accession as one of Europe’s hottest rock exports. Forming at high school as a unified three-piece, Ethan Torchio joined the gang after responding to an online open call out for a drummer. This fateful pairing, alongside the band’s long-standing friendship has become the crux of Måneskin’s outlook. “We all have a very clear vision — we are very bitchy,” Victoria says confidently, smiling. “We have very specific ideas. Being only four [of us] and not having overproduction, we think that our individual sound really makes the difference”. Ethan, who’s taken to perching on the couch armrest, echoes his bandmate: “We’re perfectionists.”

As Måneskin’s latest album, RUSH!, dawns, the artists have been busy splitting their legacy between Italy and the rest of the world – from showcasing support for Ukraine at Coachella in California to bringing their rock and roll swagger to The Green Fashion Awards alongside style icons Karolina Kurkova and Elisa Sednaoui. “These two ways of expression (rock and roll) are ways in which we have always liked to measure ourselves,” youngest member Thomas Raggi says in accented English. “We like to alternate them because they represent the different musical souls of which the band is composed.”

Måneskin’s rock and roll philosophy is more than a reliable shoehorned statement. Much like their striking clothing, it fits like a well-worn mantra. (“In a younger age, it really helped us define our personality and stand out in some way,” Victoria says.) Growing up in a “very conservative country”, the artists found the music scene as an opportunity to experiment with their image as teenagers. Labelled as “weird” or receiving “a lot of judgements” wasn’t going to hold Måneskin back. Instead, the alternative act learned to lean on each other for support, she says, and strengthened their bond. “It really helped to have a purpose and have this project together. It made us feel reassured that we’re doing something cool and we were allowed to be ourselves.”

As the band found themselves migrating from headline to headline, they became accustomed to facing off gossip together. Ask them about the cocaine-meets- Eurovision moment and they all laugh, sharing familiar smiles with each other. “We were already so successful in Italy so we got kind of used to hearing speculation about us,” Ethan shrugs. “The huge Eurovision blowout was a good moment of our lives because we were all at a point of growing and personality building.”

But the speculation didn’t just stop there. The questions of drugs subsided and talk about sexuality quickly rose to the fore. At the time, a quick internet search of Måneskin’s name would lead to autofills poking questions at everything to boyfriends, girlfriends, and identity labels. “We’re not very touched by these kinds of comments. We all are very sure of what we are and how we want to show it,” Ethan responds. Although the band were quickly dismissive of the online talk, a bigger lesson loomed, frontman Damiano David reveals. “In Italy, we did not discover that there’s more than one sexuality until we got to use social media. Just like everybody else, I was [use terms] ‘straight’ or ‘gay’,” he candidly shares. Since then, the vocalist admits he’s taking on “more knowledge” to better himself as an ally — “I’m fully straight but this doesn’t stop me from being an ally. I’m on the side that has to learn new things.”

The band’s public discussion of identity has been one they’ve decidedly kept close to their chest, until now. “We understand people can get very affected by [speculation] because they’re making themselves sure of what they are and how to express [themselves] to their parents or to their friends,” Ethan empathises. As a member who has faced the brunt of opinion, the drummer pauses, choosing his words carefully: “[Trying] to guess people’s sexualities is one of the worst things to do — it’s very bad.”

A time that was particularly testing for the band was when Måneskin’s provocative Want To Be Your Slave music video hit the internet. A visual centred on sexual liberation and self-expression, the band quickly faced questions on their aesthetic and affiliation to queerness. “People are curious about it because it’s been quite a taboo topic for many years, it’s something now that other people are so interested in, not only with celebrities, but just generally with everyone,” Victoria says. She recalls times in high school where similar-aged teenagers would guess whether an effeminate boy is gay or not. “Like, who the fuck cares?!” she huffs. “People are really interested in the private lives of the artists. They look it up because it makes them feel like they know you better or it’s just to gossip or break a scandal.”

A brief pause falls over the band and Damiano shakes his head, prepping an answer: “I think it’s easier. It’s just not that complicated. When you get famous, people just want to know who you’re fucking. It’s just sick curiosity.” The inner-band debate strikes up again as Ethan proposes the media curiosity is fuelled by a misdirected want for knowledge and understanding.

While this is one the few times the band disagree, they respectfully onboard one another’s opinions as they take stock of the bigger conversation. The root of animated discussion breaks open as the members begin to turn the question inward. “I don’t really know how to identify. In the past years, I’ve been identifying as bi, but, lately, I’m having no interest in boys. I’m discovering [my identity is] developing,” Victoria says, her striped brown tie falling forwards. “I like some girls and then it changes to ‘okay, I almost don’t like any boys at all’. It is something constantly… It’s lesbian but also Harry Styles.” Damiano cracks up with laughter and Ethan quips that the former One Direction star is christened “the chosen one”. Circling back to her line of thought, the bassist proves she’s hardcore with her closing line — “It’s just who you are and you can really express yourself and I think this is like what matters the most and what we think is real rock and roll and freedom.”

Måneskin are no strangers to taking a stand. If you ask us, it looks like they love causing a bit of a stir. Mid-last year, the band, once again, caught headlines after Damiano and Thomas shared an unplanned kiss on stage at the Polsat SuperHit Festival. The band vividly recalls fans sharing the impact their music had on them. “When you get there and see how you can help thousands of people, it really makes you understand the difference you can have in that moment,” Victoria reflects. The group’s commitment to ensuring freedom of expression is larger than a few lyrics in a song – it feeds into their interviews and on-stage actions too.

“Being part of this generation it’s hard. It’s useful to take some strong positions on topics, because we need some strong actions. We’re just trying to do our part,” Thomas elaborates, explaining Måneskin’s move to be controversial every now and then. “We also try to improve ourselves every day. But at least you can try to find and to look for the right thing to do.” Lead singer Damiano backs up the decision to use their platform to back political causes. “If you have the courage to speak up about things, I think it’s very, very helpful,” he says earnestly. “We have to be able to understand when it’s better for us to take a step back and let those really affected people talk about it, because we are just allies and we’re not getting discriminated against, but we can try to be empathetic and use our voice and our power to help everybody.”

The four-piece have chalked up a reputation for being unpredictable and stylishly outrageous, but this consensus doesn’t sway the young band. If anything, their years in the on-screen media pipeline has taught them how to utilise the spotlight. It doesn’t matter whether they’re discussing music, tours or politics, the band inevitably comes back to the value of being authentic for their fans (“We just feel very close to them,” Victoria says protectively.) At the centre of their overlapping comments on friendship and frenzied life changes, Måneskin are humbly aware of how their fanbase supports them. The bassist continues, saying it’s important to create a place where everyone can be who they want. Pausing, she periodically slips into Italian, asking her bandmates to translate a term.

“It’s obvious everyone wants to be free for who they really are. In my experience, at first, I was so concerned and worried ‘who am I if I do this’ or that I’m something else or that I’m changing, but it’s [best] to not be worried about these things,” she says passionately. “We want to create with our fans and to put everyone in this healthy environment. And doing this really gives strength to young people or people who are in more oppressed situations to have courage to see that it’s okay.”

There’s no doubt Måneskin have distilled their lived lessons into this new record to create a rock and roll oasis. From beat-thumping inductions to media gossip to tongue-in-cheek comments on becoming the “kool kids”, the monstrous, hardcore noise of RUSH! has it all. “For me, it is a very personal record. It tells the story of how I came to discover myself and what I want to be as a person and as an artist,” Damiano explains. “All this frenzy led me to look inside myself, somehow I felt free to express a part of me that I had kept more hidden.”

The album is a chaotic amalgamation of crushing guitar riffs, full-throttle lyrics, and sonorous vocals sways through lines of Italian and English. Måneskin’s charge forward with spluttering drums, cranked up instrumentation, with songs pouring their original larger-than-life stamp into their broad rock productions. At their height, the band’s best tracks (La Fine, Gossip ft Tom Morello, Kool Kids) ignite like a blazing stage sign giving direction to Måneskin’s inevitable rise as one of today’s spirited rock acts.

An evolution from their gutsy sophomore studio release, Teatro d’ira: Vol. I, new album RUSH! captures the spark of each member. “Each of us had the freedom to follow our own personal direction. This time we didn’t look for the synthesis, the lowest common denominator between our different personalities, but we kind of added them up, exalted them all to the same level, and despite everything I think we still retained our identity,” Victoria shares.

With that, the band did not shy away from splurging on animated guitar hooks or fret over going too heavy with the familiar political zing of their rock tunes. Victoria adds: “We live in the concern of a progressive loss of people’s rights and we are afraid that this common thought is growing. In the track La Fine we refer precisely to this thought. Our music wants to be free and genderless. The goal is that people can identify with our message without having any definition of gender or category.”

After months of mania and unrelenting bouts of success, Måneskin are eagerly positioned to take on what’s next. And with a sold out arena in London already on the cards, it won’t be long before they’re greeting roaring fans once more. But, for now, as they savour the release of RUSH!, the band have found renewed strength in their amped up sound. “We have found our synthesis in diversity. This record is a point of pride and artistic growth for us,” Damiano reaffirms. And in a lesson learned by all, Victoria shares a final note of uplifting advice: “Never be afraid to express yourself. Always be free!”

WORDS BY ZOYA RAZA-SHEIKH

PHOTOGRAPHY BY FABIO GERMINARIO

[depressedhouseplant]

Just Fucking Write - Day 87

Prompt: If Fight Club and Hunger Games had a baby

Tags: Implied violence, human trafficking (ish?)

“If you’re looking for fireworks, you’ve come to the right place,” the regal looking man opened the door for Changmin and Chanhee.

“Thank you Seonghwa,” Chanhee dipped his head slightly. Seonghwa nodded in return. Changmin didn’t know where to look. The hallway was lit by old fashioned oil lamps on the walls. The carpet felt plush under Changmin’s dress shoes.

“What the hell kind of place is this?” Changmin asked.

“You’ll see,” Chanhee swept up his skirt as they walked into a bright amphitheater. Well dressed patrons were sitting in private boxes sipping champagne and talking among themselves. Chanhee ushered Changmin into a box. Flutes of champagne were waiting for them. Chanhee passed Changmin what looked like a program.

“Pick one you like,” he said. Changmin opened up the small book. There were pictures of men, some of them barely old enough for the moniker, with information like age, weight, height, and then a dollar amount at the bottom.

“What’s this for?” Changmin asked, pointing to the dollar amount under one picture.

“That’s how much they cost,” Chanhee replied. Changmin’s mouth dropped open.

“Okay where in god’s name have you brought me?” he asked.

“You said you wanted to see a show. This is the best show in town,” Chanhee shrugged. “Hurry up and pick one so I can pay.”

“I’m not buying a human being Chanhee. And neither are you,” Changmin started to stand up and Chanhee grabbed his wrist.

“The ones not picked will be executed,” he said.

“Executed? What the hell have you been doing in your free time?” Changmin sat back down.

“They’re prisoners. They can fight their way out but only the ones who’ve been paid for are allowed to fight in the first place,” Chanhee replied.

“What if they lose the fight?” Changmin asked.

“We get our money back. If they win, we get to take the winner home,” Chanhee.

“Why would you bring a prisoner home?” Changmin was still processing the fact that his best friend went to a fight club and bet on humans.

“Where do you think I found Haknyeon,” Chanhee asked. Changmin considered Chanhee’s personal assistant. He had a razor sharp wit and a smile like he knew something you didn’t. “Their crimes vary. Haknyeon was a money launderer.”

“You let a criminal handle your personal life?” Changmin stared.

“I prefer to call it creative accounting,” Chanhee took another sip of champagne. A chime dinged and Changmin looked up. “That’s the five minute warning. Pick one or I’ll do it for you.”

“This is wrong on so many levels,” Changmin flipped through the book and stopped when he saw a picture of a dark haired boy with curly hair and plush lips.

Kim Sunwoo

Age: 25

Height: 5’11”

Weight: 140lbs

Holding price: $50,000

“Him,” Changmin handed the book back to Chanhee.

“Perfect!” he pressed a button on the table and a man in a tuxedo walked over.

“Sirs?” he asked.

“My friend would like to hold this one,” Chanhee pointed to the page Changmin had shown him.

“Excellent choice. Would you like his file?” he asked.

“Please,” Chanhee replied and handed over his black card. Changmin felt nauseous and it wasn’t from the champagne on an empty stomach. The man left with Chanhee’s card and the book.

“File?” Changmin asked.

“It has all the details of their crimes. If you change your mind after reading it then you can pick another one,” Chanhee explained.

“Oh Jesus,” Changmin muttered. The man returned with the file and handed it to Changmin. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. As he flipped through the pages, he found his criminal record.

Sunwoo had been convicted 2 years ago of aggravated assault. The victim was left in critical condition, but eventually recovered. His sentence was a minimum of 15 years.

“Wait, you said they were executed if they lost or didn’t get picked?” Changmin asked. Chanhee nodded. “But this isn’t a death penalty case. Why agree to do this in the first place?”

“High risk, high reward. Though I have to say most of them aren’t very bright. They should just serve their sentences, but I guess this seems like the better option,” Chanhee said. “So are you going to keep him?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Changmin said. Chanhee hit the call button again and finished the transaction with the staff member. Then the amphitheater went dark.

“Welcome to the Cirque de Kooshma. I am your ringmaster Zuho,” a tall dark haired man stepped into the spotlight on the center stage.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hello, I accidentally deleted my Tokyo Revengers Puzzle account. Don't you know how I can recover it?

Ah I don't think you can??? I know you can switch it between devices using a code but as far as I'm aware you can't log in or get it back without that code and you can only get that code by opening your account. So if you delete it then it's gone????? (If anyone else does know a way feel free to chime in here!)

[bripops]

Right now, the northeast is at really high risk for flooding so here's a friendly reminder from someone who learned the hard way:

CHECK YOUR RENTER’S INSURANCE FOR WATER DAMAGE COVERAGE

You will be shocked by how little a standard policy covers when it comes to water and/or flood damage.

Flood insurance almost always requires a completely separate policy managed by the National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP) under the scope of FEMA. You can get it as a renter, but it usually involves calling a local agent because it’s highly regional and takes a lot of different variables into account. NEVER assume the person you’re renting from has adequate coverage. Even if they have homeowner’s insurance, it probably doesn’t extend to renters’ belongings.

While you’re at it, MAKE SURE YOUR POLICY COVERS WATER BACKUP. This is different from flood insurance. A lot of basic policies only cover water damage from appliance malfunctions, like a washing machine overflowing. Coverage for water backing up out of a drain or sewer often costs extra (in my experience not more than a few extra bucks per month) and has to be opted into, it’s not included.

Doing this will save you.

Last December, after three days of nonstop pouring rain, the drainage system outside an entrance to the house we were renting just couldn’t handle the volume anymore and water started pouring in under the door. We used everything we had to try to slow it down, and we were up all night using a wet vac we borrowed from a neighbor to try to contain hundreds of gallons of rainwater. I will never forget the mounting horror as I realized the water wasn’t going to stop until the rain did. It's not like a plumbing issue or dishwasher malfunction where you can cut off the source.

We were lucky, and the rain tapered off by the next morning. The layout of our living room meant that most of our stuff was away from the door, and we were able to bail water fast enough that very little ended up being a total loss and nothing important was damaged. We did, however, need to take our dog and get a hotel for a week, and ended up having to find a new place to live in five days (the week before Christmas, while recovering from COVID) because the damage needed so much renovation that moving was pretty much the only option.

Our renter’s insurance covered nothing. Even without a NFIP policy, I was able to confirm with the insurance company that our claim would have been approved if we’d opted into the water backup coverage, because the rainwater was coming out of the overwhelmed drain. We could have replaced the stuff we lost, and probably a bunch of stuff we had to work really hard to salvage. That particular policy would have covered some of the moving costs too, and they would have paid for temporary accommodations for us. (once again we were extremely lucky, and the hotel costs got reimbursed as a courtesy because they took longer to make a decision than they were supposed to)

Renter’s insurance is not expensive. The tricked out policy I got for our new place with every add-on they offer runs me less than $30/month. It would have covered thousands of dollars of expenses that we’re still trying to crawl out from under more than six months later. In an ideal world you will never need to use it, but if you do, IT. WILL. SAVE. YOU.

I am by no means an expert, and can really only speak from my experience so if someone who knows more about this wants to chime in, please do! Keep in mind that all of this is going to vary significantly depending on which insurance company you use and your specific policy. Just please, for the love of god, get renter's insurance if you don't have it already, and read every page of the policy so you know what's covered and what you might need to opt into. Do it now, because shit like this

isn't going to wait.

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Chapter Fourteen: Mr. Pinstripe Suit Pt. 7

 “Envy, just how fast can you run?” Freddy looked at Envy as they made a massive progress on the monster proportioned parfait.

 “Oh Face Fur, I can easily outrun you if you tried to run from me with plenty more of asskicking in store should that be the case.” Envy glared at Freddy, thinking Freddy was about to dine and dash on them.

 “Bitch that’s not it, I’m asking cause when you have to pose as me, you are going to want to run fast when my rage filled Lobster Man Father comes to town, he’s going to break out the damn pinchers.” Freddy's voice shook in fear for Envy’s own wellbeing at this point as he tried to convey JUST how bad the situation was. 

 “What exactly do you mean the pinchers are coming out?” Envy for a change didn’t attempt to attack Freddy for calling them a ‘bitch’ as they monitored their favorite Face Fur to torment.

 “Fun fact, Joel can break a tree in half with his bare hands alone, that’s why we call them Joel’s pinchers. Thankfully you’ll be disguised as Freddy, so it’ll likely be a shrill screaming fit and possibly getting cut off from the family account for a few months. However, if you’re in this disguise or come in front of him as yourself, you’re going to want to run. He’ll come at you with something worse than the lamp post.” Dolly explained calmly as she shared her peppermint stick sundae with Dorian.

 “The hell did you do to these humans to make them so insane?” Envy nearly choked on their parfait after being given that explanation of what to expect should Joel show up. “The Witch Hunts back in the day traumatized everyone, so I think that was the main culprit. Though, it would be very KIND of you if you’d just tell my Dad you were the one to order that travesty of a dessert so I won’t lose my access to the family account.” Freddy chimed in as he ate his strawberry ice cream slowly as he hoped Envy would be in their horrid gremlin form just so he can see Envy run from a Lobster Man.

 “Okay Face Fur, have it your way, I’ll be myself and tell your mutant father that I ordered the parfait. I’m not afraid of some little human that happens to turn red when angry.” Envy glowered from their half way devoured parfait. 

 “Lust, I’m hungry, when can I go get something to eat?” Gluttony asked before resorting to his coping mechanism of chewing on his knuckles.

 “Aww don’t fret buddy, I’ll be taking you to the morgue after this. It’ll be like an all you can eat buffet there!” Envy had a smug look to their face after fully recovering from their moment of shock. 

 “I’ll be sure to distract Joel then to give you a proper running head start then Envy.” Dolly offered as she enjoyed her sundae with Dorian. “Whatever, at least my blood isn’t going to be the flavor of marzipan from the sugar intake you’re having.” Envy smirked as they finished the parfait of forlorn and sat back to relax. “I dunno, I think I’ve flown past the marzipan flavoring and straight into the buttercream instead.” Dolly mused a bit, causing Envy to chuckle at the comeback that was given.

 “Envy, you’re one to talk with that beastly sized parfait you demolished in one sitting.” Freddy rolled his eyes a bit at Envy’s little commentary.

 “Shapeshifting burns a lot of calories, you really need to keep up with the details there Face Fur.”  Envy retorted with a snort before just relaxing, not even taking the horrors of Joel seriously.

 Sitting smugly and content, Envy felt like they had won. Sure they didn’t get to murder their bastard father and would have to face some supposed lobster-human hybrid, but that didn’t matter to Envy. They got Dolly and Dorian back without having to spend a lot of energy or man power, that was the two only things that mattered to Envy. Around the table, Lust had been comforting a hungry Gluttony while Hughes had returned to his normal skin tone, enjoying some ice cream to cool his body down. Freddy, smug about throwing Envy under the tracks, was giving concern looks from Dolly, still very much worried about the potential fallout that’ll likely come after the parfait. It was just a silly little matter in Envy’s eyes, a human couldn’t possibly be a threat to a mighty homunculus like Envy, so why even worry? Though Envy wouldn’t admit it, at that moment, they wondered if this was what it was like having a family to call their own. Though, Freddy was basically the annoying family pet in the whole hierarchy in Envy’s mind for this family dynamic. The good feeling didn’t last though as the odd yet painful feeling returned when they looked at Hughes who had joined Lust in comforting Gluttony. If having a group to call their family was supposed to feel good, then why did it hurt so badly when Hughes was there? 

=======================================================================

 It had been a week since the survivors of Tir Na Nog had settled living in a cave after arriving in Xing. To them, the thought of having to pay to live in a house was an absolutely dystopian nightmare in their eyes after being brought up in a free housing society. The soft hums and twirls of the salvaged equipment sang inside of the cave as Tinne clanked his forging hammer against the heated metal. They were orders by Cuilleann, who sat by the campfire with Muin as a bodyguard outside of the cave, displeased with the entire scenario that had befallen her kind. Victoria, Gef, and Ngetal had gone to scavenge for food sources since like the housing, these madmen humans had too expected payment for it as well. Duir and Ruis had been at work maintaining the equipment and monitoring for any signatures from the lost Gort. Cuilleann let out a soft growl of annoyance as there were no signatures of Gort whatsoever and she was growing tired of this waiting game. What sort of queen goes about existing without using magic at all? It angered Cuilleann as she gripped her sword tightly, tempted to heat the metal up to go slash at the waters close by. Muin quietly watched the designated leader with caution, mentally preparing herself to take down Cuilleann if she posed a threat to everyone in the group. 

 “Cuilleann, I’m almost done with the forging the claymore. I don’t understand why that was even necessary in the first place.” Tinne held the in process claymore for Cuilleann to inspect.

 “Any Queen let alone another Dullahan isn’t worth their weight in salt if she can’t fight me in Queen’s combat. I will accept Gort as our Queen if she can best me in combat.” Cuilleann snarled as she twisted her sword in the ground.

“Wait, you think Gort is a Dullahan because of Victoria? Gort’s a Dobhar Chu like Duir and I.” Tinne raised an eyebrow as he checked the sword for the length.

 “Damn it! Is that sword even going to be big enough for Gort to handle then?” Cuilleann looked at the claymore to make sure it’ll be of massive size suitable for a Dobhar Chu.

“This should be the right size, Gort was always on the small side for a Dobhar Chu.” Tinne felt satisfied with the length of the claymore as he went back to the makeshift forge.

 “So I’ll be expecting a six foot tall Dobhar Chu, close to my height then.” Cuilleann felt a bit relieved that the fight will be evenly matched now that the claymore was confirmed to be the correct height for the intended wielder. 

 Tinne shook his head a bit at the response as he went back to work on the claymore. A part of Tinne had hoped that Gort had reached at least the normal short height of six feet rather than the strongly possible fact of Gort being smaller than that. Gort was after all the runt of the entire batch for the Autumn Mist District and was an abnormality for a Dobhar Chu to be so small. Muin lifted her head up as she saw movement in the distance, standing up to get a better view of the returning food scavenging party. Cuilleann let loose a soured face when she noticed that the protein they were to have was just a mere small rabbit. It was completely pitiful to be dining on berries and a small rabbit when Muin took up arms when she noticed a small figure following behind the party. Gef, Victoria, and Ngetal stood still when they saw Muin come charging with the intent of apprehending the threat. It wasn’t much of a fight as Muin, disappointedly lifted up a small human child who was flailing about at suddenly being picked up like that. 

 “Great, we got a larval stage human.” Muin grimaced at the sight of the child who had stopped flailing and started trying to get kicks in before getting held arms length away.

 “Woah, so that’s what a mini human looks like?” Ngetal asked as they looked at the small apprehended human.

 “Muin, we don’t have to hold the human like that, it's rude.” Gef went to take over handling the child from Muin who was more than happy to hand over the little bundle of adolescent rage. 

 “So…Gef you’re better at language, you talk to the little larval human.” Muin decided to leave the handling of the human to Gef, heading back to the campfire, a very alarmed Cuilleann being present at the sudden human intrusion.

 “Fine, but my Xingese is rather rusty.” Gef went to attempt to speak to the child who scrunched his nose up at the really old Xingese being used.

“Do you speak Amestrian? I’m fluent in the Amestrian language.” The child responded, catching everyone off guard with the surprisingly adult vocabulary that came out of his mouth.

 “How delightful, yes, we can speak Amestrian.” Gef switched over to Amestrian, glad that one thing was going to be made easy for him.

 “Gef, I thought it was called English?” Victoria whispered, being caught off guard.

 “Not in this plane of existence it is.” Gef whispered right back.

 “So..are you like the secret band of cannibals that live in the cave?” The child began to ask, eying the cave home situation everyone was living in.

 “No? What gave you the idea about us being cannibals?” Ngetal gave a bit of a perplexed look upon hearing the little accusation. 

 “Cause you have a scary looking lady by the fire.” The child pointed out Cuilleann who was now making her way over to the group.

 “Who is the little meat bag larva you brought into the Liberation Cave of Freedom?” Cuilleann interrogated right away.

 “Lady, that’s a really lame name for a cave.” The child responded, earning an offended gasp by Cuilleann.

 “I’ll have you know that the Liberation Cave of Freedom is a very suitable name compared to your weird human custom of paying to live in a house. We don’t have to pay a dime to exist here and we’re proud of our arrangements.” Cuilleann held her nose up proudly at her supposedly better living situation over the humans.

“If you say so lady, but you do realize that the cave gets flooded during this time of year, right?” The child gives the group of weirdos a look of pity of living in the very easily flooded cave of forlorn.

 “You’re lying, right? All you humans ever do is lie…right?” Cuilleann was taken aback by the revelation that floods were indeed a very real thing and not some boogeyman story told to young aslings into behaving better.

 “Fine by me if you want to live in the cave, but my entire clan has lived here for many centuries and knows what the rain cycle is like here. I can promise you as a fact that the cave is going to flood and it’ll be a spectacularly flooded disaster if you don’t move to higher grounds. If you don’t want to be flooded, I can offer you a place at my home, but you’ll have to serve my family from now on and be part of the Yao Clan.” The child gave off a smile that resembled a smug cat after eating the beloved pet goldfish.

 “Cuilleann, we need the equipment to be undamaged by flood water if we’re to find Gort.” Muin said in a harsh whisper to Cuilleann who was getting hot with anger.

 “You expect me, your acting queen, to lower my standards to serve humans? Are you breathing in the gas fumes?!” Cuilleann shouted in their native language, not thrilled with that prospect.

“Damn it Cuilleann, we are getting offered a proper shelter and better quality food.” Tinne finally put his foot down from within the cave after working at the forge all day.

 “You know what Cuilleann, since you named this stupid cave the Liberation Cave of Freedom, we’re gonna act on that one. Everyone, let’s take a vote!” Ruis threw her arms up after having to listen to Cuilleann’s nonsense for far too long in the week. 

 “I’ll have you know I’ll consider this a mutiny!” Cuilleann protested as the others started to cast their votes.

 “Right, everyone, for leaving the cave to live in a proper house, raise your hands now!” Ruis yelled as she along with the seven others raised their hands to cast their vote.

“Now for Anyone who wants to live in an easily floodable cave, raise your hand!” Ruis smirked as the only hand to be raised was Cuilleann who had a look of displeasure.

 “Alright Cuilleann, the votes are clearly in favor of moving out of the cave. Let’s get the equipment out and ready to move into the new location.” Gef sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

 “Damn it, where is your pride in being a Fae?! We’re going to be serving this meatbag larva rather than the other way around! This is indignity and disgrace!” Cuilleann protested, but the others brushed her off as they started getting set up for the move.

 “That’s enough Cuilleann! We can’t go back to living like we once used to, we’re going to have to adapt and change accordingly to our new situation. Now, are you going to come with us or stubbornly stay at this cave?” Duir pinched between the bridge of his nose as he felt the migraine coming in from the rather stressful week he had living in a cave.

 “Duir, just so you know, I will be considering this an act of mutiny for a long time, but fine, I’ll come along since you’re my mutinous crew and I have a responsibility for all of you now.” Cuilleann grumbled in frustration from everyone betraying her perceived notion of what dignity they had left.

 “Then I take it you’re all going to join the Yao clan?” The child smiled at the small victory he made that very day and the bettering odds for his clan.

 “Yes my precocious little meat bag larva, we are going to join this clan of yours, HOWEVER, this contract agreement will be terminated once we are able to locate our Queen. Then your clan will be on their own, do we have a contract?” Cuilleann held her hand out to shake upon the arrangement, taking some control back from this unprecedented situation.

 “That’s fine by me, it just means my clan has service for the foreseeable future. However, I’ll be requiring everyone to study the current Xingese language, yours was incredibly outdated.” The child shrugged as they got what he had wanted beforehand and felt rather proud of himself. “You certainly have a lot of cheek from someone so young.” Cuilleann remarked as she glowered at the smug child. “Thanks, I have a very expensive education and private tutors, I get to lay my rights to be as cheeky as I want to be.” The young child just simply grinned as he started leading everyone off to his home.

[macverse]

Denim & Mistletoe Desires

---

JC and Justin have been separated for far too long during the pandemic. With the world slowly falling back to what can be considered normal, it's the holiday season and they finally are able to be with each other again.

---

I know you like it

I know you like it it it

I know you like it

I know youI know you like it it it

When you walk in it’s as if the world slows down around me. Like magic, the sea of people between us parts, and all I see is you. Perfectly dressed as always; black on black with a hint of Christmas red at your breast. You wore your glasses that you hate because I love them and I asked you to wear them. My fine ass man that I haven’t seen in over a year because of the pandemic. 

We didn't need to stay apart but it was the best choice. When your dad injured his back for the second time this year and unfortunately needed surgery to help recover it was clear that you were the best person out of your siblings to make the sacrifice and go all the way to Florida to help your mom out. Although we knew we’d miss each other we ultimately decided that you’d stay put with family after your father recovered rather than risk contact trying to get back to each other. Trains were just as risky if not riskier than planes and I didn't want to ask you to drive the 42 hours between us. As the days turned to months then turned to years the 2,780 miles between you and me felt further and further away but finally tonight my eyes can behold you without the guise of a computer screen between us.

Don't know why, but girl, I'm feeling close to you

Maybe is this ocean view, I'm so emotional

And all these stars been dancing on my head

Too long, too long, too long

You haven’t seen me yet as you are greeted by the people you know closest to the door. I’m all the way across the room but I can still enjoy watching you from here. Almost everyone knows you; by association or by fame. The ones you worked with that beautiful year you spared to work with me greet you with surprise and exclamations. Mike from accounting who you used to talk about traveling with. Leslie, whose position you had temporally filled after she left to get married, hugged, and kissed you around her baby bump. It's been so long since anyone has seen anyone and everyone is a sight for sore eyes this year at the company holiday party. 

David, the one who you trained to replace you, hugs you warmly and his now almost three-year-old toddler grabs on to you with joy from his fathers’ arms although he’s never met you. This does give me a chance to see you in the rare but beautiful element of you with a child. Although you've told me time and time again that you never wanted to be a father it’s always been clear that you are the best with children. Even my son, now our son cracked through your iron-clad door to parenthood. A soft smile finds my lips as my heart warms to see you take the toddler in your arms with a soft toss in the air and hug him sweetly to your body. His giggles are like music even from where I’m standing and many heads turn to see the happy child.

I wrote a song for you, I wanna sing to you

But every time I'm close to you

The words wanna come out, but I forget

It's so strong, it's so strong, it's so strong

Moving closer to where you are I am stopped by Marcella and Johan. I lose sight of you as I stop to speak with them, passing along holiday wishes and hopes for the new year but the chimes of your laugh reach my ears through the cacophony of the largest group anyone has been comfortable to be around in a while. Thankfully we’re a small company and we were able to rent out a large space to keep everyone comfortable and stress-free. We’ve had a good year despite the total shift to work from home. Lots of other brands had suffered during the past two years but WilliamRast was thankfully not one of them. Our sales dropped slightly but this year we nearly cracked the hundred million so obviously, we had to celebrate. 

The other people in the group with Marcella and Johan ask me about my year, about our son but my answers come automatically because my mind is only on you. My heartbeat picked up the moment I caught a glance of your now long, gray-streaked hair. Bless your mother for keeping you from dying your gray away and keeping your luscious chestnut lock from getting too long. You look like something out of my dreams as I spy you now closer to me talking to a new group of people. We both gained and lost, and lost some more weight while we quarantined. Not that I could complain before but the return of your perfect strong, sturdy form had me wishing for your return more and more each day. Your back is to me so I take full advantage; eating up just how toned your already beautiful ass has become. 

Didn't I seem like I'm catching something

That's because it's true

I can't deny it, I won't try it

But I think that you know

I look around and everything I see is beautiful

Cause all I see is you

And I can't deny it, and I stand by you

And I won't hide it anymore

I don’t want you to find me too soon. I’m enjoying watching you work the room. Not one to spoil a good show, I excuse myself from the group that had pulled me in under the pretense of needing a refill. Unfortunately, I have to turn my back to you as I head off in the direction of the bar. Our son, now almost seven years old flys by me with his cousins on his tail. He’s been just as excited to finally see you as I have been and had barely wanted to sleep the night prior. 

He's not the only one that aches for you. My hand and lips were hungry to hold and taste you as my eyes were to see you. Each day we've been apart a dull ache has built inside of me that after all this time feels like it's meant to be there. For the first time in so long, it's gone and I almost feel lost without it. With each step away from you, my mind says ‘ turn around’. Accompanied with each heartbeat I hear 'he's just over there’. I'm going against my body's instinct to reclaim my place by your side but as you’d taught me the anticipation is just as sweet as the beholding. You've already been here just a few miles away from our home taking the appropriate time to self-quarantine after traveling back to me. Your last day of quarantine couldn’t have come sooner. 

Our son signaled to me that I was going the wrong way, that you were behind me but I placed a finger on my lips signaling to him to not say that he’d seen me to you. I sealed our silent agreement with a wink as he giggled and continued at high speed towards you. I heard his exclamation of joy as he careened into you. Peeking over my shoulder once I reached the bar I see you crouched down hugging him and gesturing at how tall he’s gotten. You’ve missed almost half a foot of his life all this while. Even from here, I can see the disappointment under the joy on your face. I feel a pang of sadness in my chest but quickly think that you still have at least his full body height more to go and there will be time to make up for the lost six inches.

Soon you're complimenting my nieces on their dresses and I see you twirl the youngest of the two causing the light to play off the sequins on her skirt. She’s pulling your hand, probably saying she wants to dance with you. You expertly swing her up into your arms and glide across the floor in your usual effortless way. We're all a family here and there are many children here tonight but the co-founders’ children are the center of the attention. Many eyes turn your way as you waltz across the dance floor with my business partner and best friend’s youngest to the music softly playing in the room; spinning and dipping her high and low causing her to giggle and the spectators to clap as they look on. 

You're in the best of moods tonight. I'm sure it wouldn't take me long to guess why...

Read the rest of the story on my AO3

[heyitsme1040]

Hello, Pumpkin [steddie]

summary : Steve has a crisis over what to do for his first date with Eddie. Finally deciding on having their own mini fall festival, Steve borrows Hopper’s old cabin to host it. (And Eddie is an excited gremlin that tackles Steve into a pile of leaves.)

pairings : Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

warnings : None, (if I missed anything please let me know!)

word count : 1,260

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day three of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘leaves changing’. Also in this fic I imagine Eddie has to use a cane because of the bat bite he had on his leg. It was a large bite, and that’s a lot of muscle to lose. It makes sense that he’d need a cane after that. At least to me it does. 

Steve paced behind the counter of Family Video, uncertain what he wanted to do for his first proper date with Eddie. He and Eddie grew close while recovering from their demobat wounds, and while it was clear they were well past the point of friendship, Steve asked if Eddie wanted to go on an official date. Without hesitating, Eddie excitedly agreed. Steve had told him to be ready after his shift. 

“I don’t know what to do, Robin. What are my options again?” Steve complained. 

“We’ve established that you can’t do a typical first date. The town is still wary of Eddie, plus two guys on what is obviously a date will cause issues for the both of you. There’s the option of your house, but you two hang out there so much as it is. Oh! What about a double date? I’m sure I could get Nancy to move our date night up this week!” Robin’s rambling turned excited. 

“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t think that’s an option just yet. Eddie and I need some more time between just the two of us. No party, no platonic soulmates, and no other couples.”

Steve finally stopped his pacing and leant against the counter. He picked up his rubik’s cube and reached it behind him blindly. Robin took it from him and Steve heard her begin to shuffle it. He continued to think of ideas while she mixed the cube up. When the bell above the door chimed, he was surprised to see Will walking in. The young boy seemed happier than he was before living in California. Watching as he trailed up and down the rows to tapes, Robin finally placed the colorful cube in front of Steve. Picking it, Steve just began looking at where the colors were when Will placed three tapes on the counter. 

“Movie night?” Steve asked while pulling up the Byers’ account in the system. 

“Yeah, Mom and Hopper decided to have a family movie night. We’re all showing El one of our favorite movies,” Will explained. 

“That’s great,” Steve applied his employee discount. “You’re all set, they’re due back in a week.”

“Thanks Steve.” 

As Will walked out, a thought occurred to Steve. Since the Byers and the Hoppers would be having movie night at the Byers’ house, Hopper’s cabin would be empty. Steve picked up the phone and dialed Hopper’s line at the station. 

“C’mon,” Steve impatiently mumbled, “pick up.”

“Chief Hopper speaking,” the gruff voice answered as Steve was ready to give up.

“Hopper! It’s Steve.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just had a question. Could I borrow the cabin tonight? Will said you all were having a movie night and I wanted to hang with Eddie. I figured we could hang outside of the town, maybe?”

“That’s a nice idea. Give him a break from everything for a bit. You’ve got that spare key still?”

“Yes sir.”

Hopper sighed at the instinctive answer from Steve, “Just let yourselves in then. Have fun.”

“Thank you.”

With a click, Steve placed the phone back in its cradle. With the first step of his plan done, Steve turned to Robin ready to bribe her for step two. 

“Can you cover for me? For the rest of my shift?” Steve pleaded. 

“Steve–” Robin immediately began to protest. 

“Hear me out! It’s only an hour, plus the place is always dead at this time anyways. It’s a Wednesday, and most of the town is busy with fall break anyways. Please? I need to get everything ready for Eddie.”

Robin held Steve in suspense for a moment before conceding. “Alright, fine. I’ll cover for you. But, you owe me some of that fancy chocolate you keep stashed at your place. Deal?”

“Deal. Thank you Robs!” Steve called out as he rushed toward the door. 

Steve made sure everything in the cabin was set up before getting in his car. He drove to the trailer park, headed to the outer edges where the trailers were farther apart and larger. Quietly knocking on the Munson’s door, Steve waited for Eddie to step out. Wayne had adjusted his schedule at the plant since spring break, getting in around when Steve had his own shifts and leaving for his shifts a few hours after Steve’s own ended. Neither of them liked the idea of Eddie being alone these days. 

“Hi,” Eddie breathed out as soon as the door opened. 

“Hi,” Steve smiled up at him. 

Eddie used his cane to help him go down the few steps, stopping just in front of Steve. The two stared at each other for a moment before Steve stepped to the side. He motioned for Eddie to take the lead toward the passenger door where Steve opened his door. Once Eddie was settled in, Steve rounded the front of the car to get in. 

“How was your day?” Steve asked as he started the engine. 

“It was good. Wayne watched a baseball game today,” Eddie made finger quotes as he said the word watched. “He did that thing where he puts on the TV before settling into his chair, and in like five minutes I heard him snoring. So I decided to work on rolling a character for the campaign Will wants to run.”

“Did you decide to go with that magic guy you were talking about?”

“Yeah! It worked out because Mike didn’t want to play a wizard this time, and Dustin wanted to try being the healer instead of a fighter.”

Steve listened as Eddie continued on about the character he’d made. He didn’t fully understand everything Eddie was saying, but he enjoyed the way Eddie explained his character. The whys and hows this character was going to work. As Steve pulled up to the cabin, Eddie finished explaining his character’s backstory. As he shut off the car, the excited nerves began to set in again. 

“What is this place?” Eddie asked curiously. 

“It’s Hopper’s cabin,” Steve explained. “He and El used to live here when he first adopted her. Now that they’ve been spending more time at the Byers’ house I thought I’d see if we could borrow the cabin tonight.”

Eddie nodded as Steve unlocked the cabin door. Pushing it open, Steve felt a warmth at the smile on Eddie’s face. The lights he’d strung across the ceiling reflected in Eddie’s eyes like stars as they stepped in. 

“I figured that we could have a night in,” Steve began, “I have some pumpkins on the back porch for us to carve. And there’s the newest horror movies on the table that we missed, and whenever we want I can cook us dinner.”

Eddie smiled at Steve, appreciating the normal evening Steve planned. With everything that happened over spring break, Eddie didn’t get to experience normal often anymore. A night of carving pumpkins, admiring the falling leaves, and watching movies sounded perfect. As Steve guided them to the back porch to show off the pumpkins he’d chosen for them, Eddie couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He saw the leaves piling up just next to the edge of the porch, and tackled Steve in an excited hug. Laughing, the two emerged with red and orange leaves in their hair. Realizing they had both the evening and the woods to themselves, they laid in the fallen leaves with their hands clasped together. Occasionally, Eddie would lift their hands up to point at a cloud that went past while Steve shared stories of previous pumpkin carving misadventures from the past few years. 

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

**Also I know the prompt was about leaves changing. I just couldn't think of a leaf pun I liked for the title, so I had the title be centered more on the pumpkin carving pun potential. Plus comfortember doesn't have pumpkins as a prompt, so this one title had to be used on something**

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[dumbasswhatever]

for the sake of brevity, i'm going to insert [???] when the dream didn't really explain how or why something happened

So it starts with me somehow being interviewed by Elon musk [???], and it's very clear that he intends on painting me as Crazed Feminist or something but I carry on best I can. Somewhere along the way he is forced to do embarrassing things like flash the camera or wear very girly clothes [???], and he was waaaaaay too ready to do it (it's implied but not confirmed that he has a public humiliation kink)

But at some point during the interview he brings up something interesting. A children's book I remember reading and absolutely adoring (not a book that actually exists). And he seems to be weirdly fixated on this book, he asks me about some of its plot points and I gush about how much I loved it as a kid

Several pieces of information are quickly revealed [???]

this isn't my first time meeting elon musk

when I was like nine, he read a short essay I wrote about the book and decided to interview me

(no question marks here, it was explained that this was possible bc my teacher submitted mein short essay to some magazine or journal for children's writing)

I managed to forget our entire first meeting, except for one brief memory of him being so pissed off at me [???] that he grabbed my DS and tried to run off with it

(I do not know if I ever recovered the DS)

elon musk has been holding a grudge against a nine year old so long that they became a 24 year old

The interview ends and I decide to find out more about this essay I wrote bc I can't even remember it. I go on all my fave pirating sites and look for the journal but in every one of them, the issue that my essay was in is conspicuously missing. (It's implied but never confirmed that musk used his considerable power to get them taken down from any site you can use to access them legally or illegally, purely out of spite.) So I decide instead to read the book to see how well it holds up and see if I can remember anything about the essay.

From here on the dream is from the point of view of the main character of the book, although sometimes my thoughts as a reader chime in. The prologue is a brief sequence of scenes depicting a rich family and their servants, being tormented by a brutal killer. Chapter one takes a sharp turn and introduces the main character version of myself. My grandmother recently died, and I made an email address with her name in it [??? in commemoration maybe]. A few weeks later, we got a call from some woman, who asks to speak with whoever made that email account. So I say yeah, that's me, and she says that she recognized my name (she thinks I am my grandmother) and she asks how my daughter (my mother) died. I ask why, and she says that she likes to kill people in pairs, killing both people in the same way, but she doesn't remember how exactly she killed my daughter (my mother) and she wants to know how she should kill me. Everything after that is vague but it's revealed that the assassin is actually one of the servant girls from the prologue, and it talks a bit about the trauma that led to her becoming an assassin and using her unusual methods. It's a lot more heavy-handed than I remember (which is very disappointing, bc one of the things that made me love this book so much as a child was its subtlety). And then I woke up

I think I might have been put on earth to end Elon musks miserable life

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[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

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[azaleaniath]

Hey there! I've decided to upload one of my Sir Leon x reader here as well to start filling my tumblr acc as well

Have fun reading!

Commissions are still open~ For more, check out my Wattpad account

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word count: 1.7k || Sir Leon x Reader

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If you can't allow yourself, i will

~*~*~*~

"Merlin, it worked! You saved Lady (Y/N) from certain death."

An old voice called out, yet a familiar one. Before you could even open your eyes, you felt a strong pain shooting through your chest. You heared footsteps around you, then the familiar voice spoke again.

"I think she's waking up. Inform Arthur."

A few moments later, you heard one of the knights call out your name. Not just any knight, but the one that you adored oh so much; Leon.

"Where is she? How is she doing?"

With loud and quick steps the man charged into the room together with Merlin, then towards you, kneeling down next to the bed you layed on.

His eyes were filled with sorrow, his heart was heavy as a stone.

"(Y/N)! I'm so glad you're alive! Forgive me for not being able to protect you... "

Leon caressed one of your cheeks, kissing your forehead. You blinked a few times before opening your eyes normally.

The blurred sight of your beloved knight was enough to collect some strength to hold your hand out to him. Sir Leon reached out and held your hand, telling you to stay calm.

"How did you even heal her? She was as good as dead!"

Again, the man brought his face closer to you. With his help you sat up straight on the bed, Leon sat down next to you and pulled you against his chest.

The warm embrace made you smile. "She will fully recover from her state, there's nothing to worry about."

Leon gently pressed your head against his chest, closing his eyes for a while to fully appreciate your well-being.

"Well, the magic of a right diagnosis and treatment." Merlin said, winking at Gaius.

"it's truly magical that she's still with us. After what Morgana did to her... I'll find this witch and cut her head off myself."

You looked up to Leon with a smile. "I guess you're much more in need of some medicine than I am."

The pain slowly faded more and more. On top of that, it truly distracted you just to see Leon close to you, holding you against him.

"I thought I had lost you..." Leons eyes were wet, as if he has about to cry. Never before had you seen him in this state. He was shaking the slightest bit, so you held his hand gently.

"You will never loose me, Leon. That, I promise to you."

Both of you lost yourselves in each other's eyes before the silence got broken by Gaius, clearing his throat, seeking attention from you and the knight.

You turned to Gaius, only now remembering that you weren't alone.

"It seems my work here is done. Lady (Y/N) is free to leave now. I'm going to come around for a check later tonight. Although..." The doctor looked at Merlin, who had a wide grin on his face, seeing the two of you so close to each other.

"Just in case, anything occurs, it would be of great help if someone would accompany Lady (Y/N) for a few days. Someone... strong. Just in case she might feel weak and fall."

Merlin's grin got even wider.

"I'm sure Arthur would be willing to give Leon a few days off for that. I'm going to talk to him" Merlin chimed in.

You looked at Leon, who also turned his face back to you. "That would be the least I could do."

"I'm sure (Y/N) is still a bit weak on her feet, it would be great if someone could carry her to her room."

"Merlin, I feel fine, don't wo-"

"I insist, for your own safety."

From his face you could tell that he was wanting to get his will through.

Then you understood.

"Ah, yes. Of course."

Leon gently squeezed your hand a bit, then turned to Merlin and Gaius.

"I'll take on that, she will be safe with me."

"Then I'll talk to Arthur about giving you some days off."

With that, the young man disappeared.

Carefully, you threw your hands around Leon's neck, then he lifted you up.

"Is this really okay for you?"

"Trust me, it's nothing. Actually, it's far easier to carry you when you're conscious."

You looked at him in surprise.

"You carried me before? I don't recall?"

"That's because you were unconscious."

"When was that?"

Leon huffed, carrying you to your chamber.

"Not that long ago. You had a few beer too much in the tavern."

"You brought me back to my room that night?"

"Not just that night, Milady."

You blinked a few times.

"There was also a time where you got dehydrated, when Camelot was out of water. And a time you got knocked out after Merlin accidentally hit you with a door."

Leon opened the door of your room, carefully let you down in your bed and closed the door again. Sitting down next to you, he took off one of his gloves to measure your temperature.

"Wait, you were the one carrying me these times? I didn't know."

Once he put his leather glove back on the man helped you taking off your shoes and made sure you were laying comfortably.

"What does it matter for?"

"Nothing, it's just..good to know."

You reached out for his hands. A moment of silence fell upon you two.

"I'll get you some water, Milad-"

As he wanted to get up you pulled him closer, pressing your lips against his with closed eyes.

Stunned, the knight just looked at you in shock.

A few seconds passed, he stayed completely frozen.

"... Was that... wrong?"

Only now, Leon came back to his senses.

"I-I am sure you're still a bit affected by the spell, I-"

"Leon."

"I'll forget abou this, No one will hear abou-"

"Leon."

Again, silence fell upon the both of you.

"If I remember correctly, you kissed my head in Gaius chambers as well, didn't you?"

Trembling, Leon began to sweat.

"Y-your head, yes, out of shock, I-I was just happy to see you alive, I'm terribly sorry!"

One of your hands caressed his cheek, stroking over his beard.

"And what if I tell you that I liked it?"

Hesitant, he held onto your arm.

"... Did you?"

"Did you, Leon?"

The man finally found the courage to look you in the eyes. His gaze found yours, like your eyes were locked with each other.

"I couldn't imagine a greater blessing, Milady. Yet I would never allow myself to do this to you... "

Your heartrate increased with his words. Again, you stroked his cheek, bringing yourself closer so him.

"Then I'll allow you, if you want to."

With a smile, you closed your eyes as Leon brought himself forward do kiss you. Yet he withdrew himself an inch before your lips could meet.

"I can't. I'm sorry, Milady. I'll have to ask Gaius if you're really completely back to your own senses. I couldn't forgive myself if I would use your state to my advantage."

And with that, Leon got up and excused himself for a minute, left the room and kept the door open.

Not long after, Merlin stumbled into your room. His laughter filled the room as he leant against your closet.

" What's so funny?"

" Leon, he-"

Again, he broke out in laughter.

"I ran into him on the floor, he wanted to ask Gaius if you're really fine, mentally. Said you were acting weird. "

"What's so funny about this?"

You asked your friend in confusion.

"The lipstick stain on his lips."

Immediately you got flustered, throwing a pillow at Merlin, who didn't even dodge.

"Come on, you know I've liked him for years!"

"Yeah, and I'm just helping you! Arthur has given him some time off, enjoy your rest together~"

And with that, he disappeared apain, laughing so loud you could still hear him 3 rooms down the floor.

It took a few minutes until Leon came back, closing the door behind him.

" So, what did Gaius say? "

The man looked around, then back at you.

" He seemed amused, but said you were fine."

Only now you noticed the stain as well. With a slight grin on your face you looked at him, gestured him to come closer.

"Then, I'll repeat once more. If you can't allow yourself, I will."

"..Just in case Gaius is wrong.. I'm not getting hanged, beheaded or stoned?"

"You're most definetly not getting hanged, beheaded or stoned." a chuckle left your lips.

Leon sat down on the bed, bringing himself near you.

One of your hands undid the buckle of his cape, which glid of his shoulders and onto the bed next to him.

For many years he had waited for this moment.

Soon, his hands found their way up your neck. Again you closed your eyes and leaned in, waiting patiently for him to kiss you. It took a few seconds until his lips met yours, slowly you and the knight both melted into the kiss, your fingers running through his locks.

A short time passed until you broke the kiss to inhale quickly before Leon immediately went for another one. And another one.

Once he withdrew himself, your eyes met again.

"Sir Leon! How dare you take advantage of me being under a spell! I'll have the king informed about your selfish behavior!"

You faked a shocked visage, his face turned pale right away.

"M-my deepest apologies, Milady, I-"

Seeing him like this made it unable to hold your play, causing you to laugh out, which followed by you pulling him closer, passionately kissing him once more.

"Bloody hell, you scared me! For a second I saw my life flash before my eyes, I thought-"

"Aw come on, it was just a joke~"

You cuddled yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Leon, you know what?"

"What?"

"I do feel like I'm lacking something."

"And what is that?"

"More kisses~"

A gentle smile appeared on his face as he looked down onto you.

"I'll see to that right away."

Once more your lips clashed against each other, expressing everything you felt for each other.

It seemed like hours passed until you opened your eyes again, meeting his. Leon smiled, causing the same reaction on your face.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you."