#spinster heaven

[lesbiansovereverything]

At Home with Ourselves: Medusa's Spinster Heaven

At Home With Ourselves is an interview series in which we profile lesbian homes. From van life to the suburbs, from self-built cabins to studio apartments, from collective houses to the things that make you feel at home wherever you may find yourself. Wherever and however lesbians live, we want to know about it.

Devorah: I can relate to the idea of home needing to be a place where you don’t feel infringed upon. Have you always aspired to this?

Medusa: Even as a young girl, I went against the grain. I admired the Maiden Aunts in literature and real life that were supposed to frighten us. I thought they were gutsy and interesting. Like those fabled Spinsters, I grew up to live in my own attic and to wear a lot of black dresses. I am a lifelong lesbian, now in middle age. My space is appropriately named Spinster Heaven.

Devorah: What else do you want to share about your space and what home means to you?

Medusa: Women are often told we are “selfish” when we need time or space to ourselves. We need to reclaim “selfishness” as the self-care that it is and to let go of guilt about needing our own spaces. I am an introvert, psychically sensitive, and have a busy mind. I need a lot of space, quiet, and time to myself. Many of us do.

Like many women, I grew up in a family where I did not have a lot of control over my direct environment. I lived with a constant low-level distress which compromised my health. As an adult, I lived with roommates and lovers, but it was not until I had my own space at Spinster Heaven that I was able to truly inhabit it and live.

Continue reading on LesbiansOverEverything.Com

[notjahrethh]

Thank god im a spinster ! My nipple piercings will heal so much better now.

[fictionadventurer]

Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.

But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.

That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.

This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.

Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.

If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.

[necessiteez]

HONGJOONG SMUT FIC RECS LIBRARY

✦ Secret Room ✦

disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they do not represent the real kim hongjoong. all rights belong to the respective writers who made them.

all pairings are hongjoong x reader only.

further info is already stated in the main Library.

this is a special section reserved for works with kinks heavily influencing the story

✶ - favorites

╔═ secret♕room ═╗

In this list, by order:

✠ Daddy ✠ DILF ✠ Sir

✠ Breeding ✠ Corruption

✠ Size Kink/Size Difference

✠ Voyeurism ✠ Mirrors ✠ Car Sex

✠ Somnophilia ✠ Feminization

✠ Noona ✠ Exhibitionism (Public/Semi-Public)

✠ Nipple Play/Chest Worship

✠ Anal ✠ Knifeplay/Blood Kink

「 ✦ Daddy Kink ✦ 」

includes Hard Dom/Mean Dom!Hongjoong, DDLG/dollification/BDSM themes

Scent Play - @whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Recordings - crimsonbubble

Day 22 - whatudowhennooneseesyou

Thunder - barbzberry on ao3 (wc 2k)

Face Sitting - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Untitled drabble feat. Seonghwa - @haiyuta

✶ Kitten and the Stranger - @ren-the-dragon (wc 7k)

✶ Kitten and the Stranger part 2 (Birthday Boy) - ren-the-dragon

Yours Alone - @frenchkisstheabyss (wc 1k)

Day 1 - @taehyungisminee

Rumor - @mingis-lightbulb

Hongjoong oneshot - @sugawhaaa

[1:48] Exhaused feat. Seonghwa - hanatiny (wc 1.3k)

* Dollification

Doll - nateezfics (1.8k)

✶ Thank You - @spinster-sisters (wc 2.8k)

Day 4: Pretty, Special Doll - whatudowhennooneseesyou

* BDSM

Leash feat. ot7 - @barnesbabee

Mistleblow feat. Seonghwa - @choijjongho (wc 6k)

「 ✦ DILF ✦ 」

Kinktober Day 25 - @ateezreactionsandscenarios (wc 3k)

In Vino Veritas - @pirateprincessblog (wc 7k)

Not Just A Dream - @ja3honey (wc 1.12k)

Definitely Not a Dream - ja3honey (wc 2k)

Love Me Like Your Favourite Dream - ja3honey (wc 5k)

「 ✦ Sir Kink ✦ 」

Tease feat. San - @hongism (wc 4.5k)

Demon's Prize - crimsonbubble

7:48 - crimsonbubble

Just For Me - @hongcherry (wc 9.9k)

Take It feat. Seonghwa- crimsonbubble

Suit and Offices - @hwanchaesong

✶ Covetous - @mountainficss (wc 2.5k)

Happy Anniversary - wonwussy

「 ✦ Breeding ✦ 」

Please - @mountainsluna (wc 1k)

Breeding - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Kinktober Day 8 - @multiwreckedmess (wc 900)

The Shoe on the Other Foot - @bro-atz (wc 3k)

Untitled breeding kink drabble 1- @hyetiny

Untitled breeding kink drabble 2 - hyetiny

✶ Fill You Up - @last-words-ofashootingstar (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Corruption Kink ✦ 」

All Mine - @hongthoven (wc 2.6k)

Whole Other Level - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Not Ready Yet - liara586 on ao3 (wc 1.8k)

✶ Hidden - @latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 3.5k)

Day 6: Ride - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Ruin Me - @sxcret-garden (wc 1k)

「 ✦ Size Kink / Size Difference ✦ 」

✶ Baby Girl - mountainsluna (wc 1.5k)

Day 6 - hongism (wc 7.5k)

「 ✦ Voyeurism ✦ 」

✶ Consensual Voyeurism feat. Wooyoung, Seonghwa- @sanjoongie (wc 3.7k)

Three A.M. - Abiaswreck on ao3 (wc 2.9k)

+ Toys - @oceanlix (wc 1.9k)

Desperate - hanafudaearrings (wc 5.6k)

Day 4 - brownsugarbaybee (wc 1.3k)

「 ✦ Mirrors ✦ 」

Mirrors - @tohokuu (wc 700)

POV - @pyeonghongrie (wc 1k)

Mirror - hwanchaesong

「 ✦ Car Sex ✦ 」

Sunrise - @xoexoxhoe

Mist - hongthoven (wc 4.5k)

✶ Beach Parking - nateezfics (wc 1.3k)

Making Partner includes other members- bro-atz (wc 27k)

Don't Drive and Day Dream - ja3honey (wc 1.8k)

Criminal - spinster-sisters (wc 6k)

LA Devotee - spinster-sisters (wc 21k)

✶ Midnight Snack - swalledbymadness (wc 2.3k)

「 ✦ Somnophilia ✦ 」

+ free use (untitled) - @almightyddeonghwa (wc 800)

Day 16 - @starlitmark (wc 800)

2:08am - @crdteezv (wc 500)

Late Night Worship - hwallazia (wc 800)

「 ✦ Feminization ✦ 」

✶ Yummy - @bobateastay (wc 3k)

Bubblegum Bitch male reader- pyeonghongrie (wc 2.4k)

FFF Day 4 - sanjoongie (wc 2k)

FFF Day 24 - sanjoongie (wc 1.3k)

Ateez in Skirts - sanjoongie (wc 1k)

✶ S*x worker joong - hyetiny

「 ✦ Noona ✦ 」

Knockin' on Heaven's Door - Yellow Beacon on a03 (wc 9k)

Watch Your Mouth - Atiny-Piratequeen on ao3 (wc 800)

One More Night multi-chapter- Yellow Beacon on ao3 (wc 78k)

Watch Your Mouth - @atiny-piratequeen (wc 800)

「 ✦ Exhibitionism (Public/Semi-Public) ✦ 」

✶ HJ and a Latte - drwayward on ao3 (wc 3k)

Hot and Cold - hongthoven (wc 3k)

Un-dressing Room - hwanchaesong (wc 1.8k)

Day 9: Strike One - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Daddy January Day 5 - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 1k)

Dirty Laundry - @barnesbabee

Better When It Feels Wrong - @teezertales (wc 2.7k)

✶ Sleigh Ride - hongism (wc 3k)

Exhibitionism - hongism (wc 2.5k)

Splash! male reader - revluvzen (wc 4k)

Red - nateezfics (wc 2k)

「 ✦ Nipple Play/Chest Worship ✦ 」

Slip - @puddingyun (wc 500)

Chest Worship - @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Chest Worship - hyetiny

「 ✦ Anal ✦ 」

A Hundred Ways to Ruin You part 1 feat. Seonghwa - daisukekuroneko on ao3

A Hundred Ways to Ruin You part 2 feat. Seonghwa - daisukekuroneko on ao3

「 ✦ Knifeplay/Blood Kink ✦ 」

Slice - HannieLuv on ao3 (wc 1.9k)

*.last updated 07/15/24.*

「 ✦ Deepthroating ✦ 」

「 ✦ Phone Sex ✦ 」

🆕✨ Hot To Go! - @kitten4sannie (wc 1.5k)

MORE TO BE ADDED SOON

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Over and Over and Over Again

So there's this animation meme going around of 'Are we together in every universe?' and I don't have a tablet or anything to dray my animation on, so I figured maybe I should just write it out. This is really more of a drabble, a very very short story, but it's one I've thought of for a while.

I hope you all enjoy!

TW: Just fluff, maybe existentialism?

Wordcount: 1k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Over and Over and Over Again

The setting sun paints the landscape in golden orange tones in the far distance. Its crimson head only just peaks over the hills in the horizon as the moon begins her faithful ascent to the heavens. The world orbits and tilts all around you, but none of it matters as you lay under an apple tree beside your beloved.

You take his big hand in yours and look up at him.

He’s staring off into the distance, entranced by the beauty of the world around you. He has the slightest smile on his face as he watches the clouds meander through the sky like sheep in a meadow. Soft, puffy white things touched with gold as they graze on the dying light.

You look up above at the tree, its branches winding out and up to touch the sky with spinster’s hands. One leaf breaks away in a gust of pleasant wind to twirl down to the dying grass beneath you both.

The world is finally at peace. You’re safe, and for once, you can confidently say König is safe as well. All those years of waiting for a letter to arrive home, waiting for a strange soldier to show up on your doorstep with your husband's dog tags in their hands, waiting for one single phone call to shatter your world, it was all wasted anxiety. König was safe now, and he always would be. The military was a distant thought now, KorTac a lingering dream, just a simple passing breeze fluttering through the leaves. You could actually relax now, knowing that König would be by your side forevermore.

König’s hand squeezed yours.

“Is everything alright?” you asked.

König hummed, “Everything's perfect.”

You nodded and leaned over to rest your head on his long arm. The world was beginning to frost, but you felt warm and comfortable by his side. The peace and calm was a welcome escape from the fear that had haunted you for years.

“Actually,” you murmured nervously, “there is one thing I’m thinking about.”

König gave you another hum, this time tinged with concern.

“I was just wondering if…”

An albatross pushed another branch into place in her nest. She looked at her mate with sad eyes, “Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

Her mate rolled his eyes and gave out a small squawk.

“No seriously, do you think we’re together in every universe?”

The male groomed his partner and hummed.

The male fox drops the rabbit at his mate’s feet, “I think you’re overthinking again.”

The female drops her chin to her paws. Her tail flicks once, then twice, and she says, “I don’t think so. I don’t think I overthink, actually.”

“Thinking about thinking is a form of overthinking, isn’t it?” the male laughed.

“No!” the female huffs, her fur standing on end as she bristles up.

The anemone hums to the clown fish, “I think you just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

The clown fish swims irritably through the fronds of the great anemone, “I think it’s an important thing to think about. Don’t you?”

The anemone waves idly through the waves, “I don’t think so. I think I'm happy in this universe, and that's what counts to me.”

The squirrel huddles in the knot of the tree, hanging on desperately as the winds whip around it.

“I mean, it’s just…” the squirrel pauses as lightening cracks through the sky, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. So what if…”

“What if?” the tree hums back.

“What if something tears us apart? What if you can’t be there for me again?”

The wolf laughs at his mate and hurries the pups out of the den to play. He lays beside his mate and licks her cheek fondly.

“If you’re asking if anything can take us apart,” the male says, “then the answer is: I don’t think so.”

The female whines, “Are you sure?”

The male chuffs, “I’m sure. You just have to trust me.”

The male penguin shifts the egg from his pouch to the female's, careful as he possibly can be with the fragile life between them.

“But we’ve already spent so much time apart,” his mate worries, “it feels like something is always trying to keep us apart.”

“My time away has ended now,” the male says calmly, “I won’t leave again.”

“But how can you promise?” she asks.

“Because that time is over now,” the seahorse winds his tail with his partner, “we’re together now, and that’s what counts.”

The female snorts, but she holds onto him dearly, “I hope you’re right.”

“When have I been wrong?” the male points out, “I always come back. You always come back. It doesn’t matter how often we’re apart, we always come back to each other. Doesn’t that count for something?”

The shingleback lizard waves her tail back and forth. She wipes her eye free of dust and turns back to her mate.

“Maybe,” she admits, “but I'm not sure.”

“No?” her partner laughs, “well, what would change your mind?”

The female thinks for a moment. She absentmindedly digs a bit into the dirt, then covers it back up again before she turns and admits, “Maybe I’m just scared.”

The ocean laughs as the rain pelts his face.

“Why would you be scared?” he bellows over the raging tempest.

“Because I’m worried we might be kept apart one day,” the rain cries out.

The ocean reaches up to take more of her into him, bring her back into his hold. She readily falls into him, letting herself be taken up in his current once more.

“As long as we are here,” the ocean whispers into his depths, “we’ll always be together.”

A bright flash of light, a blinding epiphany, something truly wonderful whispers to another.

“So, you do think we’d be together in every universe,” one says to the other.

The other takes the one into himself and holds it close, “I promise you that we’ll always be together.”

“Do you truly think so?” the first asks as it peers up at its lover.

“I think so,” König says as he smiles back down at you, “I don’t think anything can keep us apart forever.”

You smile as you reach up to brush his stubbled chin with your fingers.

“I hope you’re right.”

König laughs and pets your hair.

“I’m always right. You just have to trust me.”

Konig Dump

Regular Fanfics

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 1

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hints to a slight drinking problem, mentions of murder, serial killers, divorce & death, set after & before the events of season 3

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Welcome to another series, loves! I'm so excited to share this one! 🤍 You may read the Dirty Drabble that inspired it first, but there's references to the events of it throughout. Enjoy, babes! 😉

Huge special thanks to @blackcherrywhiskey, @deans-spinster-witch, @roseblue373 & @ladysparkles78 💚 for kicking my ass to write a whole series from that little one shot. I know y'all wanted me to bring the smut, and while I certainly did that, I couldn't resist bringing the angst. And well, once that angsty stone started to roll, it couldn't be stopped and downhill it all went... 😝 I usually do slow burns, so starting off hot and going in reverse for once was such a fun change!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment

September 2023

One. Two. Three.

At the third knock, your bare feet sprinted to the motel room door from the bathroom, a towel still in hand as you dried your damp hair.

“Coming!” you called out and twisted the knob, opening the door with a keen smile.

Beau stood in front of you in all his glory – washed jeans Sherpa jacket, a button-up in your favorite color, and some tight denim clad his muscular bow legs. That man always effortlessly took your breath away when he really shouldn’t.

A cocked brow graced his features as he eyed you from head to toe, a smile twitching on his plump, kissable lips underneath the scruffy beard. “You open the door always like this, darlin’?”

The familiar drawl made your knees weak. Back home, the accent was nothing special, but his deep timbre of a voice that made your bones tremble surely was. The combination of the two was heaven-sent and hell-bent.

“I just got out of the shower.” You shrugged innocently, your golden halo swinging with your sinful hips.

As you rubbed the rest of your hair dry, your black silk robe swayed with the movement of your legs before you leisurely discarded the used towel on your bed and waited for the handsome sheriff to follow you inside.

“Brought you something,” Beau said and wiggled a thick folder over his head as he walked in, closing the door behind him with a kick of his boot. He ceremoniously slapped the file on the small desk in your room.

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Oh? Almost feels like my birthday, Mr. President.”

Beau let out a hearty laugh, showing off the endearing crinkles around his shimmering green eyes. “I think you’ve got something confused there, darlin’. It was Kennedy’s birthday.”

“Huh, so I’m the president and you’re my Marilyn?” you teased.

“Oh, I’ll happily be your Marilyn,” he said with a cheeky smile.

As your fingers eagerly leafed through the file, you could feel Beau’s breath fanning against your neck as he came to stand behind you, shiny leather boots plodding on sordid motel carpet. The hair on your skin saluted him as goosebumps rose.

You could smell his cologne as it tingled your nose, bergamot and cedar mixed with a hint of vanilla flooding your senses and washing a sea of memories into your mind. Memories you wished were lost and never found.

Postponing the deep dive to tomorrow, your eyes only skimmed over the contents of the folder. But just as you suspected, the victimology and modus operandi were all too familiar. You’d seen this before, and it wasn’t good.

You’d be here for a while.

“And?” Beau’s voice broke you from your thoughts before you felt his fingertips softly brushing the flesh on your hips. An electric shudder ran down your spine at his touch, your mind on the fritz.

“Definitely my jurisdiction,” you replied and closed the file.

Moaning with pleasure, you felt his lips on your neck, kissing a pathway down to your shoulder. One of your hands wandered up and tangled in his thick, luscious locks, grabbed and tugged until he groaned against the shell of your ear. You still managed to blab about the case with strained concentration.

“There’s been similar cases in, uhm… Texas… Utah… Colorado… Wyoming… and now here.”

“Hmm,” Beau hummed, not letting himself be disturbed. The vibrations of his voice thrummed against the column of your throat.

Your cunt clenched; you could feel the rising wetness between your legs and the growing bulge against your ass.

A large hand brushed stealthily across your stomach and snaked past the silk fabric to grab a generous breast, squeezing the tender flesh and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and a finger. His hardening cock pressed at the crack between your buttcheeks, your arousal dripping down your thighs.

A second palm wandered to your front but was bound southward this time. His digits pried apart your folds, two of them running through your slick with a growl in your ear before slipping inside your pussy. A whimper left your lips as you braced your palms on the surface in front of you for support, your legs threatening to buckle under the pressure.

But Beau wasn’t going to let you fall, his grip like a vice around you as he held you flush against his chest, hot breath tickling your earlobe and beard burning your cheek. You moaned his name with a few expletives as he thrust his fingers in and out of your soaked channel.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet. Want you to come for me,” he husked into your ear and pushed his erection even more against your ass. Your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze those fingers like you’ll squeeze my cock… It’s been too fucking long. Wanna finally fill you, darlin’.”

“God, yes,” you whined in agreement as the coil in your belly tightened with each plunge into your heat.

He curled his knuckles and expertly thumbed your clit, making you cry out. His strokes became harder, your breathing grew labored. Your body quaked with each thrust, cunt throbbing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you moaned as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit, igniting the fuse to the fireworks in your belly. Your explosion could be seen in the sky from miles away without binoculars.

“I gotcha,” Beau whispered as a strong arm wrapped around your ribcage, your pussy pulsing with his fingers deep inside you. Brushing your damp hair to one side of your neck, his teeth sunk into your shoulder as you steadied in his embrace.

“You’d think as the sheriff, you’d care a little more that a serial killer is running around and murdering citizens of your county,” you teased breathlessly.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Beau said simply, removing his wet fingers from your drenched cunt.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lower lip. “No?”

“Nope, not since you’re here,” Beau quipped and kissed your shoulder blade. “I know you won’t rest till you got that bastard all nicely cuffed up.”

You huffed a laugh. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of confidence in me, huh?”

“You betcha. Got nothin’ to do with confidence, either. I just know you, darlin’,” Beau stated with a cocksure grin and palmed one cheek of your ass as he rutted against you.

“Beau, fuck… I still have to lock the folder into the safe,” you managed to say, your mind in a haze of desire as your pussy whined in starving anticipation.

“C’mon, who’s gonna steal it, huh?” he muttered against your skin. “Would be a damn fool to break into a room with a sheriff and a federal agent.”

“You can never be too careful,” you argued lightly.

“Says the woman who can’t lock a damn door,” Beau sassed with a chuckle and threw you a raised look as he spun you in his embrace.

You laughed, your cheeks blushing when you were reminded of your little unfortunate adventure at lunch. Your arms draped around his neck as his hands wandered to your lower back, the two of you gently swaying from side to side.

“I’m sorry, okay? I told you. I thought it was locked.”

“Uh-huh.” Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d think with all those criminals running around, you’d know better.”

“Look, the Academy doesn’t technically teach us how to lock doors, just how to kick ‘em in, alright?” you retorted. He pecked the tip of your nose, flashing you a grin. “Is your deputy, okay? I felt bad. He looked traumatized. You know, he couldn’t look me in the eye when I left.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Beau laughed and rubbed his bearded chin before his palm moved back to its original place on the small of your back. “As soon as his shift was over, he bolted straight outta there. But Papa Smurf will be fine. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you with a warm smile that could melt several hearts. It sure did yours. “You do know, though, I’ll get teased for this, right?”

“I know.” You laughed and buried your face in his chest upon Beau’s playful glare. He pursed his lips as his cheeks flushed with color before placing a kiss on your crown. “I’m sorry. Maybe no one knows?”

“Y/N, this ain’t Houston. This is a small town. Everyone knows by now,” Beau reminded you with a small laugh.

Guiltily, you looked up at him and bit your lower lip, one corner of your mouth tugging upwards into a smirk. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“Oh?”

On tiptoes, you then nuzzled your nose against his, hands traveling from his neck to his cheeks as you tenderly caressed his beard and felt his breathing quicken. Your gazes locked. You got lost in pine green.

His fingers played with a wet strand of your hair, a smile fluttering on his mouth as he tucked it back behind your ear. His palm wandered to the back of your head and pulled you to his lips. The first kiss was tender and hesitant, like a kid testing the temperature of the ocean with its big toe before fully diving inside and getting carried away by the waves.

The kiss grew needier and rougher as he pushed you back until you hit the edge of the small desk in your room. Effortlessly, strong arms lifted you on the surface, your bare buttcheeks feeling the worn wood underneath. It was too easy for you two to fall back into an old rhythm.

“This is very handy, by the way,” Beau said with a smirk as his fingers opened the loosely tied bow of your robe and revealed your naked body underneath.

“Thought you’d appreciate it,” you purred as he slid the silky material off your shoulders, letting it billow around your waist.

“Oh, I do, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice loaded with lust, nibbling along your jaw. His mouth wandered down to your throat, sucking the skin purple and blue before he claimed your first breast, his tongue rolling over your nipple until it peaked.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered breathily, your head lolling back as he worshipped your body, running a river of kisses from your collarbone to the end of your ribcage. “Need you inside me, please.”

It had been so long, you had almost forgotten how good he was at making you come undone. Or better said, you had tried to forget it on purpose.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Beau growled huskily in your ear.

Cupping his cheeks, you needily brought him back to your lips, your breathing ragged between a dance of tongues. His kisses were addictive; one taste and you were hooked. Consumption became an obsession.

Your hands climbed down his body, unbuckled belt and unzipped jeans, palming his massively hard cock that only grew even larger in your hand. Everything was indeed bigger in fucking Texas.

While you popped every button of his maroon shirt, he slipped out of his jacket and boxers, his erection springing against his stomach. It was perfectly wide and long, dangerously able to stretch you to your fullest. Your mouth watered, the taste of him still fresh in your mind.

His shirt joined the graveyard of clothes on the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist. He positioned his head at your waiting entrance, catching your gaze as he pushed inside, sheathing his cock fully in your soaking channel.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned and rested his head on your shoulder as he momentarily stilled when he was at your deepest. He inhaled your scent and memorized every note like a love song. His lips bit and soothed your skin in a vicious cycle. There was no escaping him.

His harmless words caused a sting in your chest, however, cutting deeper than any knife could. You tried to ignore the dulled pain, reminding you of your oath to keep it casual this time. Your heart couldn’t get dragged back into his mess. Once was enough for a lifetime.

Beau had a punch list. You had a forget-about-him list.

A part of you doubted your decision to come here. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe no amount of time would ever be enough.

Beau grabbed you tightly and carried you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around him, still connected with him inside of you. Your back touched the light sheets underneath you as his weight heavily laid on top of you, pressing him further into you until you felt him at the spot you loved so much.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled as he moved your thigh over his shoulder and thrust even deeper inside of you, filling you to the brim. It felt like he had remembered every move, everything you’d ever loved.

His hips then began to snap faster. Harder. He bottomed out each and every time. You felt him everywhere, your nerve endings catching fire as the flames inside you rose, climbed and burned down walls.

Beau could feel you were close, and he was right there with you. His hand snaked between your sweat-clad bodies and found your sensitive spot once more, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit till he pushed you over the cliff and you lost sight of the shore.

Ocean. Waves… Your boat capsized and got lost in them.

His lips sought out yours. His kiss was deep and passionate and lasting as his hips stilled, spilling his release inside of you with a guttural grunt. Your muscles trembled, your pussy tight and throbbing around his cock, and yet, still craving more. He was the worst drug you’d ever known.

As he slipped out of you and rolled next to you, both of you were panting heavily on the mattress. You stared at the water-stained ceiling above you, your skin glistening and sticky.

Chuckling, Beau ran a hand through his hair and whistled lowly. “Man… this was… wow,” he said and opened his arm, inviting you into his embrace.

“Yeah,” you breathed in agreement, your cheeks flushed as a blissful smile haunted your features. As your head rested safely on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, steady and reliant, and concentrated on his tender and calm caresses on your arm.

“You know, I really did miss this,” he told you and placed another affectionate kiss on top of your head.

“Me too,” you admitted quietly and felt your heart crack a little more.

“You know, this kinda reminds me of that night in that shabby motel in Mexico,” Beau reminisced with a soft laugh. “Not Juárez but, uhm… Culiacán! Minus the food poisoning.”

“Sure as hell taught me to never eat tacos from some shady street truck again, no matter how hungry a stake-out makes me,” you agreed, chortling.

“Yeah, pretty damn sure that wasn’t beef,” Beau added. “Tasted like armadillo.”

Amused, you lifted a brow. “How do you know what armadillo tastes like?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” he replied and shuddered in disgust to drive the point home.

Laughing came easy with Beau. During stormy times, his heart was your lighthouse, burning in the distance. But then, it suddenly wasn’t one day, swallowed by fog and leaving you surrounded by darkness. Walking down memory lane also reminded you of that – the times when your tears could fill an ocean.

Moving out of his arms, you left the familiar and irresistible warmth and grabbed one of your navy FBI shirts from your duffel bag, pulling it over your head. Soon you found a pair of gray sweatpants as well. With each clothing item, you added another layer over your heart.

Beau watched you get dressed in silence, feeling you pull back from him. His heart twinged with anguish; his soul throbbed with longing. It was rare that he was at a loss for words, but you had a habit of leaving him speechless.

Softly, he cleared his throat to catch your attention and get you out of your head. “I meant what I said today, you know? I want you to stay, Y/N. Even when this case is over. I was serious about that.”

“I know.” You nodded, an amused snort involuntarily escaping your throat. “Just hard to believe, I guess… especially with Carla being available again.”

You bit your tongue and closed your eyes as the words slipped out of your mouth. You didn’t mean to, but it did.

“Y/N–”

You quickly turned around and faced him, doing your best at damage control. “Beau, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Beau said and shook his head.

He grabbed his clothes from the floor, feeling his time with you quickly coming to an end. He wanted to at least be dressed in case he had to chase after you. He figured one naked public outing per day was enough for Helena’s sheriff.

“Look, let’s just talk about it. Get it all out in the open, alright?”

“Beau, really, I get it. You don’t have to explain,” you replied in an attempt to brush him off.

“Yes, I do,” Beau insisted as he slid back into his jeans and buttoned his shirt, his gaze drilling into yours and pleading with you. Rising from the bed, he stalked closer to you. “A lot’s changed since the last time we saw each other. I told you. I moved here to be closer to Em.”

You rolled your eyes back and scoffed. Carding a hand through your hair, you spun on your heel in disbelief. You had to take a moment before looking at him again. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Beau sighed and conceded, hands held high in defense in case you fired another shot. “Alright, I hear ya. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true… initially. But it certainly is now, alright? It’s more complicated than you think. It just-… There’s so much I need to tell you… Carla and I… that’s over. Resolved, okay? Trust me. You don’t need to be worried.”

“I’m not worried!” you lied. Badly, might you add, but you didn’t care if he believed you or not. You let out a deep sigh and tried a calmer approach. “Look, uhm, maybe this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have–… We-, we got caught up in a moment. I mean, that’s our thing, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Let’s just concentrate on the case and then go our separate ways again, alright?”

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me to the sidelines,” Beau contended firmly. “It does mean something. It never didn’t. You know that.”

“Do I? I didn’t push you anywhere, Beau. You’re the one who left,” you snapped and unapologetically shrugged your shoulders once the words escaped. You held back the tears that brimmed in your eyes. The afterglow evaporated. Soberly, you walked to the door and nodded towards the exit. “I think you should go… After all, it’s what you do best.”

Beau smacked his lips, his brow creasing as he averted his green eyes and thoughtfully glanced out the window, his hands resting on his squared-off hips. You knew it was a low blow, but you couldn’t stop yourself, either. It was the truth, and sometimes it hurt to hear it.

Nodding, he scratched his beard. “Alright, I’ll go, but we’re not done,” he said resolutely. Internally, you sighed. You forgot they grew quite stubborn in Texas, too. “Look, I know I’ve made mistakes. I screwed up a lot… especially with you. But I’m not giving up… He wouldn’t want me to.”

With that, he walked out the door. As it closed behind him, you exhaled a deep and long breath. Looking out the window, your eyes drifted from the parking lot and gazed up at the famous big sky above you.

You found yourself fascinated by the twinkling spots of light in the midnight blue. Pensively, you glanced down at your hand and twisted the golden band on your ring finger. Your eyes then found one of the brightest stars in the dark night sky, Polaris, hoping it would guide your sinking ship back home.

September 2021

“This is the most boring stake-out ever,” you complained and blew a raspberry in frustration, leaning back against the metal hood of the car as the Milky Way shone brightly above you and the cicadas chirped their song in the distance.

You had parked the SUV on top of a plateau in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert somewhere in Mexico, overlooking a cartel hideout, but far enough away to not be spotted.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re coming tonight. We better check that intel again tomorrow,” Beau said with a sigh and took off his cowboy hat, laying it on the hood behind him.

“I’ll talk to my CI again,” you replied and sighed as well, your eyes feeling more tired than they’d ever been. It had been a long few months and sleeping wasn’t exactly high on your priority list.

Beau nodded and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his head in impatient irritability. He then pulled out a silver flask from the inner pocket of his Sherpa jacket and took a big swig.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re still on the job, you know?”

He stared straight ahead, not daring to look at you as the crescent moon hung high above him. “Yeah, so?”

“Nothin’.” You shrugged, not wanting to start a fight or upset him. “Just noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Since the funeral… It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” he said bitterly and took another sip.

“I worry about you,” you confessed quietly, the concern shimmering in your eyes.

At that, he finally turned his head and caught your gaze. “Don’t. You’ve got enough to worry about. You don’t need me on your list.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” you said and sent him a small smile. “In fact, all I do is worry about you. You’re the only thing on the list, actually.”

“Hmm… I guess it’s nice to know that at least someone cares,” he muttered and drank again.

“Oh, don’t gimme that! Stop with the sulking and the feeling sorry for yourself,” you chided and sat up straight, getting a better look at him as you leaned your arms on your knees. “Did you talk to her since… you know?”

He threw you a sideways glance, lifting a brow. “Since we signed the divorce papers? Nope,” he replied and popped the p, taking another swig.

“Maybe it’s not too late. Just talk to her,” you repeated words you’d said a thousand times by now. “That’s all she wants, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Beau nodded quietly, a thick swallow stuck in his throat as he stared at the desolate landscape ahead.

“You talk to me about it. I’m sure Carla would understand,” you added.

“I talk to you ‘cause I got no choice. You deserved to know how I fucked up. ‘Sides, you were already knee-deep in this shit. No stoppin’ ya,” Beau said. His eyes found yours briefly before he averted his gaze again.

“I prefer shoulder-deep,” you joked lightheartedly. Then, the familiar heaviness returned, weighing down your chest, your heart aching. “Feels like quicksand around my throat.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed quietly, tongue swiping across his lips. “That’s why I don’t want her anywhere near this. With Carla… I have a choice.”

“She’s a defense attorney. She’s seen some shit, you know?” you pointed out. “I mean, is it really worth losing your family over?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Beau said stoically. He then let out a humorless laugh that you couldn’t place before putting the flask to his lips again.

“Okay, enough. Gimme that,” you snapped and grabbed the silver container from him, swallowing down a big gulp. You grimaced in disgust, everything in your body shuddering at the awful taste. “Dear fucking Lord! What the hell is that?”

In response, he snorted and gave you a passive twitch of his shoulders. “Little bit of everything I could find in the motel minibar.”

“Ew! You’re pathetic,” you retorted with a crinkle of your nose and meant it partially as a joke. You had always bantered like this, but this time, he took you by your word.

“Yeah, that’s what Carla said, too,” he belittled himself.

“Okay, stop with the pity party. I can’t take any more of this sad face you’ve got going on there,” you remarked with a huff. It broke your own heart to see his shattered like this. You missed his sunny laugh and the endless bad jokes and the nonstop chatter. He’d always been a good man, despite this newfound darkness of his, and deserved better.

“Well, get used to it. It ain’t going anywhere,” Beau replied, much to your dismay.

“Fine,” you relented and let out a sigh.

Silence fell between you two, only filled by the cicadas and the coyotes roaming about. Thoughtfully, you stared up at the beautiful night sky and spied a shooting star, feeling almost silly for daring to make a wish.

“Randy always said you should fight for the things that are worth fighting for,” Beau’s voice finally broke the silence. “Never give up.”

You peeled your eyes away from the stars above and looked at him. You chuckled softly at the memory. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He was annoyingly persistent like that.”

“I just don’t know if it’s worth it, I guess,” he said quietly.

“Of course it is,” you insisted. “You love Emily and Carla. They’re your family.”

“I’ve let them down… I’ve let a lotta people down, actually,” Beau said, and you could feel his eyes on you from your periphery.

“It’s been a tough year,” you said sympathetically.

“It has,” he agreed soberly and turned his gaze to the night sky above you. “You know what star this is?”

“The North Star, right?” you guessed, following his gaze to the Little Dipper constellation.

“Yeah, Polaris. It’s fixed in the sky while everything else moves ‘round it. It’s supposed to help you find your way when you’re lost,” he explained. “True north.”

“You’ll find your way again,” you told him confidently and nudged his shoulder, giving him a small but encouraging smile. “No one’s blaming you for what happened, Beau, so give yourself some grace, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as he met your gaze. “Thank you.”

Confused, you furrowed your brow. “For what?”

“Not leaving when you should’ve…”

You smiled softly. “We’re friends… and trauma bonded. I’d never do that to you.”

Beau matched your smile, but you could see the tears stinging in the corners of his forest-green eyes as the sadness overwhelmed him. “Shit,” he cursed, burying his face in his palms. He sniffed.

Concerned, your brows drew together. You laid your hand on his shoulder and gingerly stroked his back. “Beau, what’s going on?”

“I can’t…” He struggled for words, shook his head. Whatever was on his mind, he refused to voice it. His lower lip quivered before he covered his mouth with his palm, running a hand over his beard. Then, a sad smile grazed his face. “You know, I always thought Randy was the luckiest bastard alive.”

“Why?”

Beau didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you until his lips crashed against yours. You were shocked for a moment, froze down to your core. But then your hands found his cheeks and reflexively pulled him closer, a magnet you had no power over.

His hands did much the same, needily roaming your body and holding you flush against his own. His tongue hungrily slipped inside and devoured yours, tasting like the contents of the flask. Tequila, whiskey, and vodka were only a few you could decipher, but now the aftertaste was heaven instead of hell.

The kiss lasted till your head spun, a lack of oxygen forcing him to withdraw. It could’ve been chalked up to a drunken misstep, a glitch in the fabric of the universe that could’ve been swallowed by a black hole just as suddenly as it happened. But for you, it was enough to turn your whole world upside down and toss your planet out of orbit.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your lips. The further he retreated, the more you could see the battle raging in his mind. “Fuck,” he cursed and clasped his mouth with his palm.

He jumped off the hood and walked a few suicidal-crazed steps towards the cliff, his back standing like a tall wall between you. You watched his shoulders tense as his gaze drifted upwards to the sky. It seemed like he was praying.

Your fingers touched your kiss-swollen lips, hot and yearning for more. There was a tug on your heart, a rope lassoed around the muscle that pulled you to him.

“Beau?”

Your call of his name forced him to face you. An apologetic and torn look pervaded his features as he fought a combat in his mind and wrung with the feelings in his heart.

“It’s okay,” you said gently.

He met your eyes, a shimmer of hope in his as a glimpse of a smile twitched on his lips. Something you hadn’t seen in well over a year. It was so delicate, you weren’t sure it wasn’t a malfunction. A damn counterfeit.

“How?” His question hung from the moon with despair.

“I don’t know.”

He stared at you for a moment, the hesitation behind his eyes still prominent. You felt the magnetic pull again, and you could tell that he felt it, too.

And then, with a few strides, he was in front of you, hands in your hair as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss that set your entire world on fire. You sunk into him, forever lost in a cosmos of green, sucked in by his gravity, air gone from your lungs, and feet never touching ground again.

Beau sat in his car in the quiet parking lot of the motel, his gaze wandering up to the night sky above as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping.

The same old war waged in his mind. Guilt filled his heart and bubbled to the surface. He debated whether he should turn the ignition or knock on your door. He always felt torn, unsure if you were a mistake or the best damn thing of his life.

His green eyes then fixed on the North Star, praying it would show him the way to your heart once more. This time, he swore to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t lose it. He’d keep it safe.

‘Cause the first time he kissed you, it surely changed everything for him.

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses – MAY 8

If you've caught my not-so-subtle hints throughout this, you can already smell the drama and angst this series has in store for you 😂

Any ideas who Y/N is yet? Let me know in the comments 😏🤍

Hope you enjoyed this smangsty introduction!

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Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

[rosenkranz-does-things]

About the Mike Flanagan discourse:

I've personally seen people complaining about Flanagan at least since the trailer for his adaptation of The Fall of the House of Usher, and before that, he's kinda infamous for his adaptations of Hill House and Turn of the Screw for his tendency to take these stories, scoop all it makes them them, keep only the names and some references and do whatever he wants.

His adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House is kinda egregious due to him taking a story about the typical family structure is a source of horror to those who can't fit into it (like Theo for being gay and Eleanor for being a childless spinster) and turned into a show about an evil house breaking apart this nuclear family, only for them to overcome their inner demons and grief via the power of love, and that's without touching how he sisterzoned Eleanor and Theo, who in the original book got attached to each other really fast, with Eleanor even dreaming of U-Hauling with Theo.

I think the reason you're seeing more and more hate for Flanagan is because people are getting more and more tired of his shit, though I admit it can be kinda extreme. However, there are still lots of people excited to see his takes on Carrie and The Exorcist on his main tag.

Hope this explains the situation.

well, that's one opinion and I appreciate it! however I never understood people complaining about Theo and Eleanor being sisters in the show, given that Theo is still a lesbian and gets a girlfriend, but you do you. I guess I've seen plenty of adaptations of my favorite books that didn't follow the original closely, so I've learned to keep these two things separately. in Flanagan's case, those aren't even adaptations really, they just take some inspiration from the source material and put their own spin on it, and I don't see what's so controversial about it. why can't he do with them whatever he wants? is there a law against that? this discourse reminds me of people complaining about modern adaptations of the things they loved as kids, claiming that they "ruined their childhood" (she-ra is one example I can think of right now). but the source material is still there! it's not ruined! Flanagan didn't burn those books, you can still go and read them. "tired of his shit" sounds so funny to me, I'm so sorry, but it feels like he's personally making you sit through all his shows. long story short, adaptations are allowed to be different, and yes even wildly different. if Mike's work is not your thing, maybe try The Haunting (1999) where Eleanor banishes Hugh Crain to hell and then ascends to heaven, that for sure sounds less sanitizing, right?

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VII)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 3.2k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: sexual tension, suggestive stuff.

Notes: bonding chapter of this slow burn aaaa thanks again for reading :D

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part VII: No More Doubts

When you left the motel early after a quick and dull breakfast, Ben was a pain in the ass as he kept asking question after question on the road. You knew he could just leave you alone but it wasn’t really something you’d like him to do. He was a fugitive, so were you. Soldier Boy knew better than that and he only had to stay by your side as much as he hated the idea. The only thing you could truly answer was that you were driving to a safer place. At least you were hoping it was. When you pulled the car after driving hours between the grove, Soldier Boy was waking up from his nap. You thanked heaven for that.

“We’re here,” you announced, turning off the engine.

Ben stirred on his seat, taking in the view of the house and nature and got out of your car, following you to the front door. He couldn’t help but to look around in somewhat awe. It was a large cottage-style house decorated with earth tones, great walls and columns. The place was surrounded by countless trees, making the weather bearable and somewhat nice due to the hidden location. The leaves climbed on some of the windows and the plants and flowers rested on the ground perfectly neat. He assumed you came here often. But it wasn’t really the place you used to come by and sleep every single day. It was too far away from the facility. As you unlocked the door, Ben followed inside, not without taking a last glance at your surroundings. No homes were near, nothing was to be seen. Only you and him inside this big fucking house.

The indoors were no different from the impression he got first. The decoration, the expensive sofa where you threw the sports bag, and the paintings and pots all over the place were saying you were rich. Of course, a fucking rich whore you were, he thought to himself. And he wondered where your real place was located.

“So, I’m gonna show you a guest room and then around, please don’t screw my house,” you said, giving him the sports bag.

“Got something to drink?” he asked, a smirk plastering on his face as he stepped closer to where you were standing.

“Water I do.”

Ben chuckled for a bit, eyes not leaving your face. “You’re so fucking boring, you know?”

“Yeah, well, alcohol is not really an important supply. Just follow me and maybe I’ll get you some later,” you said, turning around to get to the stairs.

You knew he did as you asked when his big steps echoed around the place. Once you were on the second floor, you motioned him to the next room a couple of feet away from yours and gave him directions about the bathroom and the manners. If he was going to be in your place, then he had to behave.

“I told you already, I’m not a fucking animal,” he complained after hearing your orders.

“Sure,” you dragged the word, eyes narrowed. “Because last night you were so civilized in the bathroom.”

He scoffed and then chuckled. “Did I get too loud?”

“You fucking tell me,” you replied with a much annoying smile on your face to match his own.

“Could’ve joined me. We’re not patient and doctor anymore,” 

“No.”

Just as the last word fell off your lips, your phone rang. Quickly you took the call, realizing it was Grace. You left Soldier Boy in his room and walked down the stairs a little too fast.

“You made it?” she asked on the other line.

“Yeah, arrived just minutes ago,” you answered, checking the stairs in case he followed. “Where are you, Grace?”

“That doesn’t matter. I have something for you.”

“Okay, tell me.”

“I will text you an address and an hour. Today. Don’t miss it.”

Your phone buzzed, announcing the information had arrived.

“I won’t.”

“I’ll keep calling through different phone numbers. Do what you have to do to complete the cure,” she said, like if she knew what was happening between both now.

Soldier Boy was unbearable but you had to keep him on track. Luckily, you were back home again and you’ll be working on the Anti V soon, praying the last bits of information and results of the last test were there for some reason.

“I’m doing my best,” you sighed.

Grace hummed.

“Good.”

“Any updates so far?”

Ben’s smooth voice woke you up from your daydreaming while you sat together in the dining room.

You had been able to make something quick for lunch after Grace called and you found yourself all jittery and tense, hoping Soldier Boy wouldn’t notice. But he did sense something different from you. So he kept insisting on what was going on.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, taking the last sip of water from your glass. You avoided his eyes, looking away.

He rolled his eyes and narrowed at you. “Has your office contacted you?” 

You shook your head.

“So they’re dead,” he said. Not asking, but affirming it.

A heavy sigh left your lips, your eyes going back to his harsh ones. “Leaving was the best.”

“Who’s that you keep in touch with?”

“What?”

Ben groaned slightly before snapping back with a low voice. “C’mon, Y/N. You called yesterday on the road, and now you receive a call. Who the fuck is it?”

His question is not just an inquiry anymore. He’s demanding to know. But you also know he hated Grace Mallory for putting him to sleep again, confined to a chamber where he’d be a trophy for the government to do whatever they wanted, how they wanted. Until you appeared, offering him empty words. Just like everyone.

“My superior.”

Your answer hit him like a truck. He knew it was Grace, but he didn’t like hearing it from you. 

The truth was, Ben didn’t like you… Not that much. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he wanted to kill you, sometimes the small common sense he still had on his head would say you’d be better alive. He had been thinking of going away, but not he didn’t really want to. He knew you had been working with Grace, he was no idiot. So maybe staying close should get him even closer to Homelander and Vought. He also thought of Ryan back in the cell you had put him in. He was so damn afraid Ryan would become like his father. And since the brat has been protected before by many people, finding would not be easy. That’s where your contacts and network would be a help to him. He was hoping to find something at your place to find them and the information he craved.

“Right,” he said, alarmingly calm and quiet. He took the last bite of pasta on the plate and swallowed down in silence under your gaze. You didn’t know what else to say.

“So, these powers of yours,” he continued, drinking the last sip of juice. “How’d you get them?”

“Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “I mean, they’re pretty fucking useless against me,” his words made you chuckle. Of course you knew that. “But I’m just wondering if you’d be with them.”

Your face turned back to a somber demeanor. “The Seven?”

He gave you a nod.

“Well, it’s not like all supes dream of that,” you uttered. “I just wanted to be normal.”

Ben raised a brow at your sudden confession. “Someone exploded everyone’s heads at the CIA. Sorry to say, sweetheart, but you suck at being normal.”

“Yeah, details I have to work with.”

“I take it you never went to them,” he continued and saw confusion on your face. “Vought.”

The word made you shudder for a slight moment, and you quickly tried to collect yourself to avoid him noticing.

“No, I never did.”

He scrutinized your eyes, hearing the poor increase of your heartbeats. They were enough to tell him something was wrong. But he decided to play along, so he nodded and gave you a rather compassionate look.

“Must be thankful they didn’t fuck up your life then.”

He had no idea.

You had parked the car outside an abandoned gas station; it was one of the nearest grocery stores to your home years ago. The now wasteland was almost two hours away, with a gas station around ten miles elsewhere. You had been waiting for Grace outside the car, leaning against the hood. Bored, you checked your phone again. When you arrived it was already past three o’clock. When twenty minutes went by, you wanted so badly to drive and get inside the next store you see and buy yourself food and supplies enough to survive a week or two with the idiotic supe now staying at your home. Grace said would be calling through a different phone but you received no calls so far. You’ve been waiting for more than an hour and the drive home wasn’t going to be shorter. Suddenly another car came into sight, pulling over near yours. Two men came out of it.

“Doctor Y/N?”

The stranger with the unknown voice and a weird accent caught your attention. Soon, you found the two tall men standing in front of you in the parking lot.

“We’re here on behalf of Grace Mallory,” the man continued.

He wore a long dark trench coat, looking rough and intimidating. The total opposite to the younger one, who gave you a kind smile once your eyes settled on him.

“How-”

“We have something for you,” the younger man continued. “I’m Hughie. Hughie Campbell,” he introduced himself, giving you a hand and fixing the backpack on his shoulder with the other one. You took it after a moment of hesitation. “He’s Billy Butcher, we’ve worked with Grace before.”

You nodded. “I thought she was the one coming.”

“She’s not in shape for that,” Billy answered. He realized your face changed at his words and quickly explained himself. “Vought’s cunts are looking for her, not safe.”

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. “Great, awesome. So what do you have for me?”

“We, uhm, we made it to your facility and thought these could do some help,” Hughie took out a pouch and gave it to you.

With trembling hands you opened the pouch and sighed in relief. Five test tubes of the Anti V prototype were laid there. “You found them.”

“And we found a little bit more,” Butcher continued. “Victoria Neuman exploded the heads of your employees back there. We believe Vought had been sneaking and getting spies for themselves.”

“Victoria is a supe,” you voiced out. “A supe is running for vice president…”

“Yeah, long story,” Hughie commented. “She’s obviously linked with Homelander and Vought. Everyone was dead when we arrived; lab assistants, guards, agents, the supes… We believe her mission was to just let you and Soldier Boy out, besides stealing information about the cure you’re working on. Probably to give it to Vought.”

“Anything weird happen there before the attack?” Billy asked, not giving you time to swallow Hughie’s words.

“Uhm, yeah. Actually my lab assistant… She tried to warn me and, well, she was crying and asking me to leave. I didn’t know why until her head just- you know…”

You choked a little with your words. The picture of her body and the last seconds of her life were all you got. Everything was equally horrible that day.

“I’m sorry,” Hughie whispered.

“It’s fine,” you cleared your throat. “And I assume you didn’t find anything else? Information? Files?”

“Computers were destroyed. No files. No info. Nothing,” Butcher answered. “Grace says you’re the leader of the project. You have copies, right?”

“Why everybody keeps fucking asking me that? Of course I do!” you almost yelled, eyes full of rage staring at him.

“Easy there, doc,” Butcher lifted up his hands in surrender. “We just wanna get rid of those cunt supes as much as you want. Nothing wrong to make sure.”

“Well, I do have them,” you replied with a cocky smile. “Thank you very much for your concern, Adele.”

Butcher rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Hughie before switching his attention back to you.

“Yeah, sure you do, luv.”

It was already seven o’clock when you arrived home with supplies and food. Ben, as usually, acted like a fucking caveman claiming he was hungry and you had to act like the housewife, serving him a fucking hamburger and a glass of wine. That was the only liquor you bought. Despite his complaints, his hunger was greater and he devoured the greasy food with no table manners at all.

“You could chew your food like a fucking human being, you know,” you said, eating the last french fries you had. 

He turned his eyes to your face, pointing with his finger. “You were gone for like five hours.”

“So? There’s fruit in the fridge.”

Ben narrowed his gaze, like if he had been offended.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to serve something for yourself,” you teased. He didn’t say a word, and you giggled. “That’s fucking pathetic.”

He leaned towards the dining table, eyes locked on yours. “No, you just don’t know your fucking place, woman.”

“I just saved your life, Ben. At least say thanks,” you beamed, having too much fun by seeing him upset for mundane things.

“No, you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your wine. “Fine. I didn’t. Let’s go past this and start over. If you’re gonna live here, for now, then you’ll have to learn how to respect me.”

His brows raised. “I thought I already did.”

“Offering yourself to fuck me in a cheap motel is not respectful, Soldier Boy.”

“Well, I didn’t try anything, did I?” Ben finished his sentence at the same time he finished his dinner.

He waited for a smart comeback from you but it never came. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and a stupid grin appeared on his lips. “Unless you want to.”

“No, we’ve been through it. My answer is still no.”

“Then, mind to fucking tell me if you found something by now?”

He changed the topic swiftly. His playful demeanor switched immediately and you sighed, knowing he might have to hear anything to keep him down.

“You’re in danger.”

“I’m the strongest supe ever, that doesn’t make any damn sense,” Ben scoffed.

“Listen, we need to hide from Vought. Hide and not leave a trace, because now I’m involved with you and they’re absolutely looking for your ass,” you gave him a stern look as you went on. “If I fall, you go with me. And if you fall, then I don’t know if they’d still want me. But you’ll be fucked anyway.”

Ben nodded. In his mind, it didn’t sound like a bad plan. In the end, that’s what he wanted; to get closer to Vought and Homelander to get over with them. The world didn’t deserve those fuckers. And as much as Homelander was created with his own DNA, he knew better than to let a scum like him walk around the planet. You already gave him something, a clue. He had to play along for now. If they took you in first, then he might probably bargain to be him instead. It was only fair. He was the one that mattered anyway.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stay here. But I don’t want those fucking therapies anymore,” he expressed, his gaze not moving away from the surprised look on your face. “Understand?”

You blinked a couple of times, shifting on your seat and chuckling under your breath. “It’s fine, believe me. I can’t stand you more than you do.”

Ben held your gaze, daring you to try something else. Instead, you smiled and got up and took your empty dishes to the sink. His eyes followed your moves, focusing on your small shorts and the softness of your legs. And you knew he was definitely checking you out when you talked.

“By the way, you’ll have to help me wash the dishes.”

He stood up, plates on his hands and walked behind your figure, putting them on the sink as you opened the faucet. His arms surrounded you once he did so and you flinched a bit. Ben smirked, feeling the reaction of your body trapped against his.

“Get away,” you ordered in a whisper, unable to move.

“I’m helping you, Y/N,” he breathed your name against your neck, his hand wrapping on yours gripping on the edge of the sink.

The only sound now was his hot breath on your skin and the water flowing. You quickly turned the faucet off, but you didn’t try to push him away.

It was the second time during the day he had said your name, ever. And you wouldn’t deny it sounded fucking delightful. He had only addressed you as his ‘doctor’, but now it was different. Though, you didn’t want to give into him. He was a huge douchebag and you were basically forced to spend time with him, in your home, without really wanting him there. You felt his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, and the primal part of you yearned for his touch, but the rational one won over and you freed yourself from his arms.

“Stop doing that,” you warned once you were face to face. His eyes were dark already and had a sparkle you knew too much since the day before.

“Alright,” he nodded.

“Just- let’s just wash these. I want to sleep.”

With a tired sigh, you walked down the basement. It was already midnight and Ben was locked inside his room, probably jerking off or something since you, once again, rejected him in your kitchen. Inside the dark room, you found the metal door that let you inside the bunker and unlocked it with the code. When you stepped in, you made sure to turn on the power and lights that illuminated the room and the small lab in the back. The computers started to run and you sat down on the main monitor, leaving the pouch with the Anti V tubes on the side of the desk.

Yeah, you might have told Butcher and Grace you had copies of every detail of the project. But you were afraid of the last stuff you discovered just before the attack. You knew well how the information was protected and encrypted, but it didn’t really assure you the profile of Solaris would be there. He was the first and last supe who had his powers off for a couple of hours at least and the feeling of losing it all had been eating you the last few hours after meeting with Grace’s messengers.

It took you a while to decrypt the system, something you had been already used to doing every time you got there to keep working on it, just to make sure no one would steal it. Hopefully, Vought hadn’t discovered it before destroying the facilities, you thought. And after a while, you found the last updates of the last test your team ran. Solaris profile and test was there. Not just in written letters, but the footage of the test and the exact formula that was used too. Now, you were so lucky.

“Well, thank you, Bianca. Wherever you are,” you whispered to yourself and took a tube from the pouch the men gave you earlier. You had a busy night ahead.

[silverhallow]

I know a lot of people think that Benedict's love interest will be changed, but I don't know. While the other seasons add subplots and change things slightly, they still somewhat follow the book and since one of the biggest conflicts in AOFAG is that she doesn't want to get pregnant and have a bastard child that would end up how she was. So it'd be kind of a huge change. I feel like it'd be like changing who Whistledown is. It just kind of changes the major conflict of the story.

Honestly... I could write a fucking essay on this.

Sophie's story, because it is HER story not Benedict's (yes he learns and grows through AFOAG but it's Sophie's life, Sophie's story...), is about the other side of the ton.

She is a bastard. She WAS a ward but then became a servant at the hands of her abusive step-mother. because lets be honest, there is no other way around it. IT'S ABUSE.

if it was modern times her being a bastard wouldn't be an issue, Richard would still be her father and Araminta would be her step-mother and the fact she was born out of wedlock wouldn't be an issue.

a GIRL born out of Wedlock is literally the lowest of the low in social standings back then, even a boy out of wedlock wouldn't be as much of an issue, most men would have looked after a boy more... cared for them a bit more but GIRLS? heaven forbid?!

so changing any of that cheapens her story. her life as a woman, a bastard, a ward and her social standing that changes upon the death of her father is Sophie's narrative.

it is what makes their entire story, its the REASON she refuses to be Benedict's mistress despite the fact she LOVES him and wants to be with him. she refuses because of the stigma she knows, the abuse she had to suffer. she doesn't a child to have that, even though she knows Benedict would love her and the child, she still refuses because she doesn't want that stigma...

to change any of that... changes the essence of her story.

it would be like Simon not having a dick for a father and his stutter and the reason he initally doesn't want children.

it would be like Kate not being almost an extra mother to Edwina and not being the "spinster" that no one wanted to marry.

it would be, like you said, penelope NOT being Lady Whistledown.

it changes the entire story.

yes the other things can be changed, things around her story can be changed but the essence. her past, her trauma, her bastardary is what makes her her!!

to change it, changes the story completely and means you can sell the follow on, you CAN'T call it An Offer from a Gentleman, because IT WOULDN'T BE THAT!!

Honestly, if you change the end game love interests for any of the Bridgerton's, it is NOT the story.

it is not the book, it's not even BASED on the book.

it's taking characters from a story and writing a new story completely, which is FAN FICTION.

these stories, can be adapted, but the base of the story, the background of the characters stays the same but the other details can be changed.

honestly, i could go on and on about what they COULD change about Sophie's story, who she works for, how she meets Benedict in the end...

but honestly... I don't care about any of that as long as Sophie is still in essence, SOPHIE. A Bastard, ward, Maid who is sassy as fuck, stubborn as a mule but kindhearted and adorable.

and thats the fucking tea.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

BOY TOY

《 CHAPTER 1/2 // READ ON AO3 》

While the Bird's away, the Clown will play.

《RATING》 🔞 Explicit 《WORDS》 1,094

《PAIRING》 Joker x Jason Todd/Robin

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

《WARNINGS》 Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Ownership, Implied/Referenced Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Genital Torture, Caning, Blood and Injury, Scars, Underage, Non-Con

《TAGLIST》 @aaliyah-wayne @ladytauria @betty-1880 @deans-spinster-witch @hlg8 @plantixst

Written for @dcdarkweek 2024

Day 2: Consent Issues: Somnophilia, Forced Orgasm (Ch. 2)

Day 3: Interpersonal Dynamics: Underage

Day 5: Power & Control: Ownership

Day 6: Graphic Violence: Stress Positions, Genital Torture, Caning

《NOTES》

This is a DARK FIC so please be aware of the tags!

There will be smut in Chapter 2. It will be my first attempt at writing M/M

If you enjoy the read please kudos, comment, and reblog 💛

《 READ ON AO3 》 (excerpt below the cut)

Exquisite. 

The sight before him inspires many words, but exquisite is the one Joker likes best. He sighs a contented sigh as his eyes crawl up and down the unconscious figure before him, from matted black hair to bruised and broken toes. His latest pair of Batman imposters had left the naked kid dangling by his bony wrists after their playtime was over, and Joker can’t help but think of this mutilated slab of boymeat as an offering, a sacrifice to him. Batsy’s little lambchop led like a sheep to the slaughter, and he’d been waiting, bib tied ‘round his neck, knife and fork in each hand at the ready. A slavering wolf cartoon about to devour his long-awaited feast.

Joker slips off his lavender gloves, finger by finger by bleached-white finger, while he stalks toward his ensnared prey. Toddy’s head hangs dejectedly between dislocated shoulders. Swollen eyelids swim in pits of purply-black bruises and hide behind a veil of stringy hair. His cherub face is puffy, streaked where tears cut tracks through the caked filth. Protruding ribs rise and fall as his lungs gasp for air, each coveted breath sucked in with an adorable wheeze. His toes are curled like a proper ballerina, desperately reaching for the merciful floor below. Fresh blood dribbles down his skinny arms from where the metal cuffs bite into that paper-thin skin.

Joker’s ravenous grin splits wider as his mind drifts back to his little bird’s last playtime. After the bogus Bats had beaten him silly, they’d stripped the jailbird of his orange jumpsuit and cut away his briefs before stringing him up for a flogging. That big brainless brute Blockbuster turned out to be an expert at wielding a bamboo cane, leaving the kid’s backside striped bloody, from the nape of his scrawny neck to the hollows of his knobby knees. Oh how his bird had begged while his skin was shredded to ribbons all over again! But that wasn’t the best part of the performance, no sirree. Before leaving the kid to his tears and fears, Catman had squeezed the baby birdie’s bruised balls in a gauntleted fist until he’d passed out from the pain.

And here they are now: his darling boy still sleeping unsoundly, brain still scrambled from the good Doctor Quinzel’s overdose of hallucinogens. Joker stops short before this tapestry of torture. Resisting the urge to trace the puckered ‘J’ forever seared into his boy’s delicate cheek, he instead takes a moment to admire the full expanse of his handiwork. When the Boy Blunder had fallen into his lap like manna from heaven, he’d been built in the Bat’s own image: a well-muscled adonis with a roleplaying fetish. But after months of depravity those bulging muscles had all but withered away. Now only pallid skin remains, hanging loosely from broken bones. Deeeee-licious!

Read the rest on AO3→

[neathbound]

I'm sure someone's pointed this out already, but the connection I noticed between Firmament and Sunless Skies:

A lot of folks have already been guessing that the Vulgate is a Scrive-Spinster. I'll point out that SSkies specifically identifies Spinsters as the former keepers of the Pergamon Manse, "library of the heavens," where Judgments recorded their laws.

This forms an interesting parallel with Lost Time: a library of law, and a library of the excised. The Spinsters are formed of bronzewood and quills; the Gaolers, of birch and needles.

Of the Manse, we know very little: Spinster-related sources say it was destroyed by "treachery," but it's also heavily implied that it was destroyed when the Halved darkened and outlawed stories. The treachery in question, then, may simply be an indirect reference to the betrayal of the King Who Speaks.

Speaking of SSkies' lore, we come to the main point: the game takes place in an different timeline than Fallen London. We know for a fact that per SSkies, the Avid Horizon was opened much prior to present-day Fallen London. That point has kind of always gone unacknowledged, to preserve the canon of each game, but with Firmament's focus on Lost Time, excised histories, and alternate timelines, I think this is a way of opening that door (so to speak).

My main question, then, is whether or not the Pergamon Manse and Lost Time are twin libraries, or one in the same. Because of SSkies (an likely the Lost Duchess), we know that alternate history is possible, not just alternate presents; Lost Time might be a point in the Manse's timeline before its destruction, or in a world where it hasn't yet been destroyed.

Alternatively, we may be visiting a place which parallels the Manse. Maybe Lost Time must be destroyed, like the Manse, to free its captive histories.

[inlovewithregencyera]

July 5th, 1818

For my early birthday present, Aunt Helena and Uncle Peregrine have given me a diary they secretly hid in Frederick’s carriage. I will not see them until the latter half of August, as they are to accompany Martha to Picelieri this coming Friday on her engagement trip. It will be a special time for her, and her last trip as an unmarried woman. Ashley and Patience will remain here in Isturia. I will admit, I currently feel silly, as I thought Frederick had given me a gift. He laughed at me when I read that it was from my dear Aunt and Uncle. This was the first time I’ve seen him smile today. He sits across from me and his gaze is fixed upon the passing landscapes. We have just left Elmsworth and have started towards Oakmere to see Frederick’s mother. He was in a frenzy this morning to get to see her and was adamant that we should leave before ten o’clock. He would not tell me why we were leaving so early, so I could only assume something was wrong. There is a certain sadness in his eyes, and he looks like he is on the verge of tears. I just wish I could hold him in my embrace again once more like last night. He kissed me twice yesterday, and I am at the peak of my bliss! That is all I can think about. I do hope whatever is troubling him will be resolved soon. I must stop writing now, as we have just arrived at Oakmere. 

TRANSCRIPT:

Peregrine: Ah, Lord Worthington and Aurelia! A blessing to see you both. Oh, are you leaving so soon?

Frederick: I'm afraid so Mr. Ramsbury. My mother awaits me and I must see her. After, I shall take Lady Aurelia to Brindleton, if that is agreeable to her of course-

Aurelia: Oh, yes! I'd love to see your mama.

Helena: Oh, but it's so early! Are you sure you'd like to leave just this minute?

Aurelia: Oh Aunt Helena, he wishes to see his mama and I shall not be in his way.

Helena: But you didn't eat breakfast dear! Surely you're starved?

Aurelia: I was quite fagged from the evening. I have no appetite as of now, and I shall eat at Paelford.

Frederick: I am afraid that I must see my mother as soon as possible. I kindly thank you for last night, I had a wonderful time, but I must go this instant.

Helena: Oh my, well I do hope everything is well with Lady Worthington.

Frederick: I thank you, I bid you both a good day.

Aurelia: Goodbye Aunt and Uncle! I love you both dearly. Please give Ashley and Martha my love.

Peregrine: Goodbye dear child. We shall see you in August! And yes, I shall tell them you've left.

Helena: Oh go along now girl before I am consumed by tears.

*pearls rustling in container, heavy knocking on door*

Martha: Well good God Ethel, I've told you I'm not yet ready for-

*door creaking*

Patience: It's a shame I'm not Ethel. It's also a pity that I'm not William Carew.

Martha: Now now Patience, please-

Patence: You betrayed me! You've taken his hand when you told me you wouldn't last summer!

Martha: Patience please understand me, I-

Patience: What about us Martha, what about our love?

Martha: Our love still remains, It is just going to wait until after I am married.

Patience: What?

Martha: We cannot continue doing the things we do until after I am Mrs. Carew.

Patience: Why do you have to be Mrs. Carew?!

Martha: Patience, because you're a fool if you think I'll die a spinster! I am marrying solely for my own comfort. He has wealth and has promised me a comfortable life. I shall give him an heir and he will be happy.

Patience: So you do not love him?

Martha: Heavens no! I am doing well by my family for accepting his proposal. My parents will have a grandchild because God knows you and Ashley cannot seem to conceive one. Then all is well.

Patience: Do you promise me you do not love him?

Martha: *kissing neck softly* My darling, I shall never love one like I love you.

Patience: I cannot bear the thought of losing you. Oh Martha, I was so scared that you stopped loving me.

Martha: *whispering in ear* For as long as I am on this earth, you shall never go unloved by me.

[verdemoun]

Time for another ✨hypothetical ask✨ What of Black Belle timewarped who would she interact with? I just know she would absolutely love Grimshaw (they would bond so quickly at being girlbosses during the 1800s managing to survive in an outlaw life and I can see them being shipped together as well) plus how she would or wouldn’t get along with the rest of the gang and how she would die to timewarp in the first place?

Also a seperate hypothetical in which all of the gunslingers timewarp because Black Belle seeing how Jim “boy” Calloway turned out would be funny (I am super hyperfixated on Black Belle do you notice?/rh)

Okay I was putting this off because I don't want to interrupt my Kiervier fantasies but the demons in me want Blackduffy so I'm gonna need at fat hear me out here.

Black Belle shouldn't fucking die she should be proof that people can be outlaws and survive if they learn to pull their heads in and don't be an idiot Dutch. She would've cornered Mary-Beth around 1907 asking if one of her novels were about a peculiar, handsome feller called Arthur Morgan. She wrote about him too accurately to not have been at least an associate if not a dear friend of, and Mary-Beth would have had a panic attack because Black Belle is 1. hot 2. serving outlaw/bounty hunter vibes 3. super hot. She could live with Mary-Beth as companion 'spinsters' and Mary-Beth went onto write what would be considered the first lesbian novel with a genuinely happy ending. Black Belle having that dangerous mysterious energy Mary-Beth craves as well as also having the sensibility to acknowledge when it was time to stop being an outlaw.

but HYPOTHETICALLY-

Black Belle dies in 1900 when the bounty hunters caught up with her. Unlike Colm, she was still grinning right up all the way through her execution, using her final moments to brag about the extraordinary life she's lived. Her corpse was still grinning, and looked absolutely macabre in the newspaper photos.

Arthur was going about his business as normal, a typical, delightful day of taking Isaac out for lunch (Isaac picks a restaurant and then watches his dad react to new cuisines like it's rumspringa) when someone whistles across the street and calling 'well well, fancy seeing you again sugar'

Isaac immediately sniggered at the thought of someone calling his dad sugar and Arthur knew he wasn't going to be living it down anytime soon

Black Belle is a queen and had been doing decently okay, staying at a motel while she figured out what was happening. 'Didn't expect this many bluecoats in Heaven, let alone nosey little photographers.'

Isaac was immediately obsessed, which Arthur dreaded but he can't help feeling a little jolt of admiration too because who doesn't admire what a badass woman Black Belle is.

He introduces her to the gang because there is a silent pledge to help people 'lost in time'.

Annabelle, bless her heart, has a type. She might live in a two bedroom studio with the guest room supposedly already rented out to Grimshaw but of course suddenly it's no issue.

Susan thought it was adorable how tongue tied Annabelle was for such a well-spoken, world-travelling human rights advocate but the fact Black Belle is a short queen was suddenly meaningless the second she sets her eyes on Susan Grimshaw and (having to look up) said 'ain't you as stunning as starlight'.

She immediately moved in with them. Still no one sleeps in the guest room.

Black Belle gives no shits about women suddenly being able to wear pants. Like cool for women love that for women but she was an outlaw who outsmarted the law, bounty hunters, and men in general for over 20 years in a dress. She wasn't going to start wearing pants now.

Of the gang (other than her wives) she actually gets along best with Uncle. Uncle and her are both regular bar flies at the pub Susan works at, trading stories of the old days and challenging each other to drinking games and being outraged at the discovery of having to pay for peanuts while Susan stares in admiration of her short queen and disgust at Uncle.

[notinthislife50]

Chapter 18

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

After a while of being wrapped up in each other's arms, hunger finally stirred, you groaned at the thought of leaving the soft bed and Jensen's arms.

As you opened the door to the outside world, a familiar sight greeted you—a grinning Jared, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“You guys did it,” he laughed, his tone a mixture of jubilation and exaggerated pride.

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to suppress your own laughter. “What age are you, again?”

Gwen swatted Jared on the back of his head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jared.”

She walked over to you, her smile genuine and warm. A hug followed a tight embrace.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet the allure of being together never faded.

The cast and crew reveled in your happiness, never missing an opportunity to tease the two of you about your “sickeningly cute” displays of affection. Every kiss, every lingering hug, and sometimes every smile, was met with playful applause or some humorous remark.

Jared’s voice was a familiar refrain, his laughter echoing through the set. “Hey, lovebirds, save some sweetness for the rest of us!”

Sometimes your insecurities would creep on you. You would often think about the moments that lead you hear. the heartbreak the harsh words. But Jensen was always there to kiss, hug, or talk the thoughts away.

@deansgirl79 @suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @dragony937 @linzerrr @deans-spinster-witch @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @my-obsession-spn @senjoritanana @encounterthepast @spnbaby-67

[ani-tolaat-bli-toelet]

Doyle: and then the annoying detective died and there was nothing to talk about okay bye

Us spinsters from the future: oh heavens he is in peril

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen | preview | four

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

four - (never) take it easy | coming 20/4

I was roughly turned around to face a very angry sheriff, who, in my adrenaline rush, just looked like an angry pug. “What were you doing?!” He hissed, his grip like a vice on my shoulder. I glared up at him, gently prying his fingers off me to give him a moment to calm down.

“My job.” I responded instantly, completely and utterly unapologetic. As if I had a reason to be otherwise. I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling calm and chill despite just having stared down the barrel of a gun. “Why, there somethin’ wrong with that?”

“We’re not having this discussion here. In my car, now. Jenny’ll take yours back to your house.” To say the car ride was silent was an understatement. It felt like even dust falling would set some sort of bomb off, and the last time I saw Beau this furious was when he found out Emily was kidnapped. When we pulled up to my house, we went in through the door-

“Why the hell did you go in there without backup?!” He almost shouted, looking furious. His eyes were wide, green eyes looking like a forest fire and jaw set until he decided to tone it down a little. “Look, I know you have a long-standing relationship with mortal peril and a side piece called danger but you don’t have to go in cahoots with ‘em every time it takes your fancy.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” I muttered to myself before raising my voice so he could hear. “Sheriff, I get that you’re concerned, but this is what I signed up for. I didn’t do it because it was my singular option, it’s my passion. Being here, savin’ lives, and Cal is who knows where.”

“That does not warrant you to hightail it to heaven! I’m not havin’ it!” He paused, breathing out and rubbing a hand down his mouth to compose himself, breathing in before adding something that piqued my interest. “Not again.”

I was about to ask him ‘what the hell are you talking about’, but I employed my brain cells and figured out what he was saying. “Your partner. Back in Houston.” I saw him look away, biting his lip for a split second, and my hand twitched before reaching up. See, I previously had cupping his cheek in mind, but my brain made a split second decision and took his shoulder instead, the moment that my mind made said decision probably warping my hand coordination and making it sign god knows what in ASL. “Sheriff, what happened?”

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