#stupid sexy blair

[serysem]

I want to do unholy things to Blair

[badgallly]

The Chosen One Part 6

Hello my loves, how are you? It took me a while to post part 6 but here it is finally. Hope you like it ! Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language. stay safe and enjoy! xoxo <3 Note: I put Neymar and Messi as if they were still at PSG ;)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

7:00 AM

I finish closing my suitcase, phew… I had to put a lot of clothes in there, I went Blair Waldorf and put my best clothes in my suitcase, I know it's excessive for 3 days but after all I've never been to New York before, and it's not every day you go to New York, much less go to NY with Kylian Mbappé, right?

Kylian… after everything that happened yesterday I couldn't help but forgive him, he seemed sincere with his words:

Flashback:

_My intention was never to scare you. I know I was stupid earlier and I've already apologized, despite knowing you for 2 days I think you're a strong and warrior woman. I know I'm being repetitive, but it was because I regretted it before. But I want you to accept my apology, please. I don't want to fight with you tomorrow about the trip Y/n, you are a very delicate flower and I hurt you, I'm sorry?

'Very delicate flower' he said…I catch myself smiling remembering those words, no one has ever praised me with such sincerity. Kylian continues to be an unknown to me, after all, was he the calm or the storm?

In the midst of my thoughts I feel a hand on my shoulder and a voice that I immediately recognized:

_ y/n?? All good ? I get a little scared and see Kylian standing in front of me analyzing my expressions. _ What a scare Kylian, I'm fine. _ is ready? I nodded. So let's go down I have a meeting today I can't be late. _ I agree and pull my suitcase and follow Kylian down the stairs.

Time break

We arrive at the heliport and I see a luxurious jet in the distance, Kylian suddenly takes my hand and smiles which makes my heart speed up a little, I smile back and he guides me to the luxurious jet.

I go in and I'm impressed, I've never been to one before. I've been with millionaire men but none of them introduced me to their luxurious lives and their daily lives. I'm at the door, paralyzed and open-mouthed at the same time, analyzing every detail of refinement and great taste. I feel Kylian's hand going down to my waist and approaching my ear: _Did you like it? I feel goosebumps running through my body at the sudden action: _Yes, it is very beautiful and elegant! I say smiling and looking at Kylian who smiles slightly.

Time Break 3:00 PM

The trip was great and peaceful. It was an 8 hour journey, but everything went well. In the first few hours Kylian and I talked a little, then we ended up sleeping for the rest of the trip.

Right now I'm in the hotel room taking my different clothes out of the suitcase (yes, I exaggerated a little), Kylian appears at the door on the phone:

_Yes, confirmed! At night I will be present and I want a table next to me, as I will be accompanied by a lady. Until later! –y/n I'm going to an important meeting now, but first I want you to get ready and ready at 7:00 pm, remember that team party I told you about? — I nod. Yes, I remember. —So, be ready, okay? Until later! I sign again

Until! Oh my God, I only have 4 hours to get ready? So I have to start soon. I'm going to start doing my nails, I have a lot of work ahead of me…

19:00 I finish putting on the second pair of my earrings. I'm ready! I'm wearing a long black dress with a slit on the leg, I chose it because it's elegant and sexy at the same time, plus it fits like a glove on my body. I admire myself in the mirror and take some photos when I hear footsteps approaching.

I turn around and see Kylian looking at me from head to toe. I blush when I see him looking at me like that.

_You look stunning y/n. _Thank you Kylian. I smile still blushing He extends his arm to me: -let's go ? I nod and take his arm going down the stairs.

Time break

19:40

We just arrived at the event, it's a private team party but there are still lots of paparazzi and people at the door. Kylian holds my hand and we get out of the car. Several flashes are pointed at us –Kylian Kylian! The public and paparazzi scream thirstily for a photo of Kylian, who just waves at them, flashes are also thrown at me. When I suddenly see a little boy coming out of the crowd running towards Kylian with a PSG shirt in his little hands and then I see the security guard holding him and scolding him: —Get out, stupid boy! The brute man says shouting at the little boy he looks sad and with tears in his eyes. I immediately let go of Kylian's hand and shout:

_Hey! Release him and leave him alone! The security guard is scared by my attitude and immediately releases the little boy. I take his small hands and take him to Kylian:

–Hey calm down. I wipe your tears, let's sign this shirt, hmm? The little boy smiles looking into my eyes.

Kylian is standing there looking at the whole situation and gives a smile looking at me and then at the little boy. He signs the shirt, talks, takes photos and hugs the little boy. The little boy hugs me too and is soon called by his mother who thanks me:

–thank you miss! It was his dream, may God bless you!

_it was nothing! Thanks! I smile at his words. Kylian takes my hand again and we enter the room.

_Your attitude is very sweet, y/n, you made that little boy’s day.

_thank you, Kylian. I blush lightly Kylian continues eye contact deep into my eyes until a voice breaks us out of our trance:

_ heyyy brother! A dark-haired man greets Kylian and hugs him hey bro! _ Achraf this is y/n, y/n this is Achraf Hakimi. _ Nice! - we say in unison, greeting each other. Kylian holds my waist and introduces me to his other teammates. He takes me to say hello to the last player with his back turned. _ Hey Neymar! When I hear that name my heart stops and my legs feel weak.

Neymar Neymar was a regular visitor to the club I work for, and he was once my client. He didn't want anything to do with the other girls as soon as he saw me, I became his number 1 girl. He visited twice a week, even though I didn't want to, he paid a lot of dollars for me and I couldn't refuse because it was already helping to pay off the debt I have at the club. Over the course of his visits to the club we became confidants, he told me about his day to day life and I told him my whole story. He offered me several times to pay my debt and get me out of there, but I wanted to do it myself, and I also didn't want Neymar to get involved in this, there are dark things behind this club and I wouldn't want to get him involved. However, he took a break from visiting the club, due to personal problems and injuries he acquired in matches that required care.

_ heyy bro! He turns around and greets Kylian _ I want to introduce you to someone. Y/N I think you already know Neymar.

_neymar this is y/n. as soon as Neymar sets eyes on me, he becomes static and nervous, just like me. I just hope he pretends he doesn't know me.

_my pleasure y/n! says Neymar, stuttering, he greets me with cold hands and pretends to be normal.

_ Pleasure! I say looking away. _ kylian, I'm going to get a drink, I'll be right back! says Neymar, clearly uncomfortable. It goes off like a rocket. _What strange Neymar did you see? Strange…

_I think it's nothing, he just wants to drink earlier to enjoy the night. I say disguising _ it must be. But changing the subject, you look beautiful, y/n, this dress looks perfect on you! _thank you kylian! I look away, looking at the floor. During the party I met other people and some of the players' wives, at this moment I was talking to Antonella, Messi's wife, who is very friendly and nice. I take some selfies and see that I need to touch up my makeup.

I ask Antonella for permission, and I see Kylian with his friends near the bathroom, as soon as he sees me he gives me a wink and I return it with a smile, I go into the bathroom and touch up my lipstick and makeup. As I leave the bathroom I hear a conversation between some men, even though the sound is loud I can still hear the men's conversation and I immediately recognize Kylian's voice:

–Your new girl is hot bro – true, where did the big boy find this cat? – probably another passer of time for Kylian, right brother? His heart is just one and it's called 'rose'. Says a voice that I recognize as Achraf's.

That name ROSE echoes through my head again, I hear Kylian laughing, which just gives me a lump in my throat and a tightness in my heart. I decide to continue walking out of the bathroom when I bump into a very pretty blonde woman.

_look if it's not destiny, then are you Kylian's new 'hobby'?

_who are you?

TO BE CONTINUED…

[grandwretch]

ok let me talk about the steddie sentinel au I wanna write bc like. its all I can fucking think about yk

alright so. I want it to be closer to show canon bc the shows origins have really been like. lost in the fanfic trope of it all which is cool and all but i think that making it show canon could be so delicious.

and like its set a decade before the show right so it would be like. blair's research into sentinels and guides would have never been published, so it's a great way to have something weird and terrifying happen to steve and NO ONE ELSE IN PUBLISHED HISTORY has been through it before so its really up to the Party to figure it out.

so I'm thinking that Steve comes "online" while in the Upside Down. because that's the most stress he's ever been in AND I think its what his instincts would see most as a survival/tribal situation like. he has three people he has to protect and he's literally in a blighted hell dimension and also if he doesn't take care of everyone, Max will die and, oh yeah, he has no proof that Jonathan, El, Will, and Mike aren't already dead.

He chalks the random oversensitivity to stress and wounds. Its not until he's in his hospital room that he realizes he can hear Eddie's heartbeat from across the hall. He yanks the IV out of his arm and goes to find Dustin.

After that, I think there's like a huge squabble about Steve's "powers" and whether or not they're real and what they mean. Steve doesn't think of them as powers, he doesn't think they compare to El at all and they're functionally useless. "I can't SMELL a demogorgon to death, Dustin." Robin freaks out and wonders if Steve is a vessel like Will now, but they all dismiss it because Will got weaker, not faster and stronger. Eddie practically climbs inside Steve's mouth looking for fangs.

El quietly asks if Steve is from a lab, too. Steve says his dad is pretty awful, but he's not an evil mad scientist sponsored by the government or whatever.

So they undergo a series of stress tests, trying to find the outer limits of what Steve can do. Hopper gets surprisingly into the whole thing, sending Steve through drills and training that he picked up in the military. Steve's Sentinel powers come to him much more smoothly than Jim, simply because he has a much more structured regimen, and less near death experiences while he gets used to his new senses.

Steve fucking hates it. He hates feeling like a science experiment, and he hates running stupid obstacle courses and letting El throw things at him to test his reaction time. He hates how his entire stupid life has become about this... thing that's happened to him, thats not even that useful, because its not like he's stronger. He's just a better fighter for a human, which isn't going to do much against Vecna.

Even worse, he had to quit his job, because turning all his senses up to 11 has made retail impossible. The blend of perfumes and body odor gives him headaches, he can't stand being able to hear every fucking conversation in the store, and the fluorescent lights hurt his eyes.

Throughout it all, the Munson's trailer is kind of a refuge. After Eddie finally accepted that Steve wasn't some kind of sexy vampire here to seduce their souls away, he dismissed whatever was happening to Steve as boring. So Steve feels like a fucking human again with Eddie, and-- Okay, Eddie is loud and grating and always smells like weed, but those things were already annoying before Steve was like this. He's used to tuning it out, so its almost comforting to be surrounded by them.

Besides, everything the Munsons own is well worn and soft, not like the textures of his own home, more pleasing to the eye than the skin. And if Steve asks very nicely, Eddie will play his acoustic; sweet, soft melodies that don't hurt Steve's ears like the radio does.

(Unbeknownst to Steve, Eddie learns all his favorite songs in a flurry of tapes. He replaces all the soap and detergent in the house with the fancy kind meant for people with allergies. He spends so much money Steve-proofing his place, but he never complains once. He never wants Steve to leave again.)

But the Munson trailer can't stop the worst of it, which is Steve's unbearable need to protect. He already had a superhero complex, but now its even worse. If he goes too long without doing something active, there's an itch under his skin that he can't shake. So he has to venture out again, back to Hoppers' canon for more stupid tests, or patrolling around the town until even his improved stamina falters.

Thats how he zones, the first time. He's roaming through the streets when he hears Dustin and Lucas up in Dustin's room, laughing at some movie. He focuses on the sound of their laughter for a little too long, and suddenly thats all he can hear. Thats all he can feel at all, actually, just their voices. It consumes him.

They find him like that when Lucas goes to leave, hours later. Standing in the Henderson's yard, bat in hand, unmoving. They call everyone, but Eddie gets there first, driving like the devil is after him. He freaks out, understandably, but Dustin calms him with the facts that Steve's eyes haven't rolled, and he's been gone for who knows how long without floating, so its probably not Vecna.

Eddie doesn't feel better.

They try every song on every tape Steve owns. He flinches at a few louder ones, but nothing works. Eventually, Hopper and Jonathan manage to get Steve into a car, his body unresponsive in their hands.

Robin wants to take him to the hospital, but Nancy tells her, softly, that it might alert the wrong people to Steve's condition. What wouldn't the American military do for a body with improved reflexes and speed, who can see and avoid a speeding bullet, and hear the heartbeats of his enemies? They take him to the trailer, because Eddie insists that he and Wayne will be able to take care of Steve. They know what he likes, what triggers him, better than people who do it on purpose.

The worry makes Eddie maybe a little meaner than he means to be.

When they get him home, Eddie wraps Steve up in all his favorite blankets, ones that smell like them both and Wayne's favorite cigarettes. He kisses Steve's forehead and sits next to him on the bed, playing his acoustic and singing all Steve's favorite songs. He knows they didn't work before, but he doesn't know what else to do, and if he just has to watch Steve lay there, he'll cry.

Its the first time, and he's been stuck so long it takes him forever to find his way out, but eventually Steve surfaces. His eyes blink into focus and he swallows around a dry throat.

Steve looks at Eddie, the man who Guided him out of the deep, dark well of his own mind.

"What'd I miss?"

[originallandlockedmariner]

"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth." (Alan Watt) I pronounce it Tyoosday. I’m usually the first to text. I haven’t worn underwear since the tenth grade. I like to make situations awkward when given the opportunity. I always say hi to dogs and moo at cows. I’m a courtesy flusher, wicked awesome steering wheel guitarist, and I open chip bags with my teeth. I believe in chivalry, ghosts, manners, manifestation and using my turn signal. I’m a girl drink drunk. I have zero energy for liars. Sleestaks, Ogopogo, Witchy Poo, Linda Blair, and boiled brussels sprouts terrified me as a child. I think vulnerability, a woman’s confidence, and conversations that last for hours are incredibly sexy. I have 7 scars, some are visible. When I laugh hard, it turns into a wheeze and the back of my head throbs. I am vulgar. Like a lot. I wasn’t a fan of Fifty Shades of Grey; preferred Topping From Below. On the rare occasion, I actually finish a book I’ve started reading. I have never eaten at Olive Garden. The first album I bought with my own money was KISS Alive II. I’m stupid stubborn. I’ve been to eleven weddings and half as many funerals. I don’t buy birthday cards or Christmas cards, I make them. I’m secretly still a LEGO maniac and will always be a neighbor of Mister Rogers. Chances are, I’m up before you every single morning. I don’t like cilantro or olives. I’ve been a teacher longer than I haven’t.  Nine is my favourite number. Over the years, I’ve been thelandlockedmariner, withouthaste, and various shades of asshole. Like Anthony, I’m a cheap, nasty, low-down, trailer park, burger slut. I have never traveled in Europe. Hopeless Romantic/Filthy Mind. My reputation has been tarnished over the years, but I’m proud of who I am. I still can’t tell the difference between a sweet potato and a yam. I’ve bumbled my way through speeches to a four grad classes and a thousand or so unimpressed family members. I met Dave Grohl and Jennifer Lopez in the same day. I had my first tattoo at 19 and its now covered over. I am private and yet a completely open book. I lost my virginity to the song Rocketman. I broke the same collarbone twice. I say fuck too much. Like a fucking lot. I prefer not to make reservations. I am ferociously loyal to a fault. Creativity is my catharsis. Most days, I exist in two places. I have three equally spaced moles on each side of my belly button. I use voice to text when I can’t remember how to spell a word. I overthink far too often. I have a very unhealthy frame addiction. I’d rather show up in person than online shop. And after nearly half a century, I finally found my home… and her name is Jaime.

@daily-esprit-descalier

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

How about MacReady for the blorbo bingo?

" Stupid sexy 1980's Kurt Russell !!! "

🤠❄️🥶🥃♞🧨🔥 🩸

The FREE SPACE is for his stupid comically large cowboy hat (affectionate)!

He has it all:

I love his floofy hair, the beard, I love his drunk ass, I love the weary tired eyes! I understand The Thing's gender envy, I wanna be him too! would assimilate if given the chance

I love his beloved J&B bottle, it's what keeping him from going mad

I love that he's kinda an unusual hero, he's a bit of a cold bastard and how ironically that's great for the situation they're all in! If they need someone to quickly, no hesitations, just burn a former friend and colleague for everyone's safety, he's the guy for it^^ (Look at his exchange with Gary about Bennings, Gary is struck with horror and grief for the loss of a good friend and MacReady is like: "brb Gary, gotta go burn the rest of him"). I wish I could make rapid tough decisions like him, if it were me in Antarctica I would've been a complete utter nervous wreck of a person like, a mix between Gary, Blair and Fuchs, even if I miraculously survived the whole ordeal I would've never been able to sleep again

he look great in freezing temperatures and bi lighting

I love you "Then Clark was human, huh? Which makes you a murderer"

The way Mac grabs Windows by the scruff like a cat

I love you "First goddamn week of winter." can't get shit in Antarctica, he's just so done and tired you really get the sense that shit was bad enough without an alien life form to deal with

I love you "Nobody trusts anybody now. And we're all very tired" - UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE FUCKING CENTURY, he's such a sad dog here

I love you "Windows! Blast him!"-face

I love the way he clutches his lil dynamite sticks

I love his plastic left hand responsible for the blood test jumpscare (I wonder if it's the same plastic hand in John Carpenter's Starman (1984) ). *rant on jumpscares ensues* The Thing has a couple of jumpscares that are well used, scarce and spread throughout (another thing that makes them great is that they're not cheap, they're not just there to shake you up for no reason and then movies continues as normal (maybe not the one with Fuchs but I forgive the movie this one because it's a good fucking movie)). But almost all of them are the beginning of something horrible about to happen, they signal that SHIT'S ABOUT TO HIT THE FAN SON! The Blood Test jumpscare is an example:

I love how he's responsible for the first kill in the movie and not the titular Thing? Love it. RIP Chess Wizard, gone but never forgotten.

Actually that moment is great not only as early characterization for him (a bit of a bastard who does not take well to losing), but also as great foreshadowing. MacReady thinks he has everything figured out and is going to win against the Chess Wizard, only to just say basically fuck it and destroy it when the computer calls checkmate... it's the exact same response he has during his big showdown with Thing at the end, he thinks he's got the upper hand, Thing pulls a fast one on him, he says : "Yeah fuck you too!" and blows everything up. Things didn't go my way? I'm blowing it up then, I love it. And I just love how the Thing and MacReady are playing this little chess game with each other, both willing to discard pieces (the lads of outpost 31) to get the other.

Love how in spite of MacReady being "THE FLAMETHROWER GUY" of the group he's not just that, under all that amazing hair there's a huge beautiful brain! He's actually the one who comes up with the incredible Blood Test and I love him for that it's and incredible scene!

I'm sure I could go on and on, I just love him

[gothicgoose8]

Soul Eater Headcanons

Soul

This man doesn't bath often and Maka has to force him to

Literally will sleep outside no questions asked and has done it before

Has probably woken up before to Blair sleeping on top of him in her cat form

Gets into stupid and pointless fights with kid and blackstar constantly and the girls just stand there facepalming

Maka

Has forced Blair to sleep outside before due to how much she dislikes her

Constantly runs away from her dad anytime he's around her out of embarrassment

Is dating Crona

In a group chat with Liz, Patty, Tsubaki, and Crona

Has had to stop Stein from trying to dissect endangered animals and strangers so he won't end up in prison

Is the mom of the group

Blackstar

Is dyslexic

ADHD

He sees Tsubaki as an older sister but will never admit it

He has a great respect for his friends but his ego and pride will never let him admit it

The reason he acts the way he does is because he's afraid if he shows his true self nobody will like him

Tsubaki

Older sister of the group

Has had to stop the three boys (soul, blackstar, and kid) from getting into fights

Sometimes she feels like she might be a burden to her friends because she isn't as confrontational as they are

Really like Disney movies

Death The Kid

Trans man

Constantly bullies blackstar for his clothing

Isn't really dating anyone but has been confessed to MANY times

Owns a white cat

Liz & Patty Thompson

Both of them share a bed it's not because they have to (they don't Kid gave them their own rooms) but it makes them feel safe and comfortable

Patty got Liz into gaming and they regularly play with Blackstar and Soul

Patty is smarter than what she seems but she pretends to be stupid so people won't expect much of her

Liz and Patty are both bisexual but Liz prefers women

Blair

She has had several romantic partners over the years men, women, nonbinary

Despite being as sexy as she is she actually doesn't want to have any relations

Sleeps naked because she thinks it's more comfortable

Has been a substitute at the academy before and actually enjoys it

Blair loves kids and even wants a daughter some day

[whiskeyswifty]

https://twitter.com/cpayneonaplane/status/1665781875166552065

From the book you mentioned yesterday!

I might be extremely stupid and bad at copying and pasting links cuz the one you sent keeps saying the tweet doesn’t exist. BUT I went to his twitter and I’m gonna take a wild guess and say this is what you meant to send:

WHICH IS AMAZING LMAOOOOOOOOO pop/punk scene girlie just as I thought she was!! Wow this is such a gem. She’s an emo girl forever!!!!! And also a Blair Waldorf girl, by proxy, which is correct and sexy of her. Even more of an encouragement to get me to read this book NOW.

[foreversecrets]

Allergy Accident

Rogers Family Expansion

Paring: Lloyd x Juliana

Summary: His life was never boring, not between the illict dealings of his family and the twisted women he loved with his whole fucking heart.

Part One

Lloyd was used to getting what he wanted and always had the answer for difficult problems (his answer usually being to throw money at it and if that failed he had plenty of guns to choose from). But when it came to his wife, it was a miracle if he ever knew what was going on. He never knew what he’d come home to but he could guarantee he would never be bored. Most of the time he could make an educated guess on if his welcome home would be positive or negative but Jewls hadn’t texted him hardly at all today. He’d told her he’d been doing an interrogation, something that required all his focus, so he assumed she was being considerate by only responding instead of initiating conversation. However, he knew that wasn’t the case when he entered their shared penthouse to see his clothing burning in the fireplace, his wife sitting deadly quiet at the dinner table with an empty bottle of wine and a long forgotten cigarette sitting in the ashtray.

“What the fuck is going on?!” he snapped, she only turned to him, venom in her eyes as she began fiddling with her fingers. 

“What’s her name?”

“Who?” he asked, confused. 

Jewels lashed out, throwing a small piece of metal at his face, it bounced off his eyebrow and fell at his feet. “The slut you spent all day at the Widow's Web with!?”

Lloyd was about to laugh at the accusation, he wasn’t stupid enough to cheat on a crazy bitch but when he looked down at the floor, the item she’d thrown at him was his own wedding ring. He’d taken it off last night, cleaned, and polished it to make sure evidence of blood wasn’t visible but he’d been distracted by the sexy teddy she’d decided to wear to bed and forgot to put it back on.

“Princess-”

Don’t you fucking Princes me Lloyd! I tracked your phone, you were at the club for 6 hours today.”

“I forgot to put it back on after cleaning it.”

“But you didn’t forget the ugly ass pinky ring! I’m not buying it.”

“While I’ve had that one longer.”

She was out of her chair quickly launching fists at his chest like a rabid animal. Out of all the wives, he accepted that Jewls would be the one to kill her husband and he was suddenly convinced tonight might be that night. Dodging her blows he finally managed to catch her wrists so she could only inflict violence with her eyes.

“I don’t have a death wish,” he promised. “I’d have better luck surviving a solo game of Russian Roulette than I would cheating on you.”

“Why did you leave your ring?! And why were you at the Web!?”

“I genuinely forgot, I promise I won’t again.” he bent to pick up the ring, putting it back on now that she was calming down. “I was at the Web because Romanoff has Pierce tied up in the basement. She caught him prowling around her girls for victims so she drugged him and called us in. Chloe said she’d never seen him before but Blair’s team has.”

“I thought the trafficking ended with Chloe’s group?” Jewls' animosity was not directed on Pierce, Lloyd could handle that. 

“They’d been under the radar, Pierce apparently kept his hands clean while reaping the benefits. With his worker bees in prison he’s decided to take business into his own hands.”

“Are you lying to me?” she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“I thought you could tell when I’m lying?” he smirked. “I’ve been with Curtis and Romanof all day, you can ask them. You know Romanoff hates me so she’d never lie about my whereabouts to save me.”

“I’m sorry baby,” she genuinely looked apologetic, giving him whiplash. You’d think he’d be able to keep up with this psycho by now but she was still a whirlwind but hey he could honestly say he would never be bored. “I burned that ugly Gucci shirt and your white slacks.”

“Which one?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“That awful yellow one,” she placed her hands on his chest. “But I’ll replace them, baby.”

“You couldn’t just call me? Talk things out like a normal fucking person?”

“I thought you liked it when I got all riled up?” she purred trying to start something but he walked away.

“Not tonight, since we are calm and having an honest conversation, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay?” She sat on the couch so as to not seem nervous. Lloyd sits next to her and pulls her feet into his lap. 

“You are the only person I’ve ever cuddled with, it's part of me being vulnerable to you in a way I’m not with anyone else. And it is so vital to me at this point that sometimes I agree to or initiate sex when I don’t want it just so you’ll hold me afterwards.”

“Baby,” her voice cracks with emotion and she moves into his lap fully. “All you have to do is ask.”

“It's not so easy for me, my dad was a man's-man and my mom wasn’t around.”

“I will never taunt you or think less of you for asking me for things you want or need.”

“I’ll try to be better but I need you to as well.”

Part Two

Jewls car was in the shop getting new tires, replacing her brakes and doing her state inspection to renew her registration. So Lloyd was working from home today so Jewls could take his car to do their grocery shopping since it was her turn for meal prep this week. As she’d gotten into the car she was distracted by Chloe sending a positive pregnancy test in the women's group chat that she didn’t notice a unmarked car out on the street watching the car. Giddy to become an aunt again she didn’t notice as the tail latched on, following her down the street while coordinating with another vehicle setting up the interception.

Six and Fours plan worked exactly as intended, apart from the fact that it was Juliana behind the wheel and not Lloyd. Six couldn’t stay to call for medical aide without risking an arrest, but once they knew it was Jewls Four stayed to call the ambulance. 

When Jewls hadn’t returned within her usual time frame Lloyd wasn’t too concerned, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for her to get distracted or make an additional step. It wasn’t until the hospital called asking him to come in that his concern manifested. They couldn’t tell him anything over the phone but they asked him several times if she had any allergies to medications, she did, he told them she did but the thing was he couldn’t for the life of him remember which ones. How had he forgotten?! Jewls had told him it was a common medication used and her reactions were more severe than most but she’d told him the information while he was cleaning her up from a job and she was naked and bloody so how was he supposed to focus?

“My wife, Juliana Hansen was brought in, they wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone.” he was slightly out of breath when he ran up to the reception counter. 

“Name?”

“Lloyd Hansen, I’m her emergency contact.”

The nurse typed away looking up the necessary information, Lloyd laser focused as the women read looking for answers on his wifes wellbeing. “Mrs. Hansen is stable in room 104.” she pushed a button and the door to the right opened. “Go on back down the hall, take the first right, third door down.”

Lloyd taps the desk in thanks and takes off, he finds the room exactly where he’d been advised. But when he steps into Jewls room seeing her sleeping but her face pretty bruised. Before he could investigate further his sight is drawn to a figure sitting by the window staring at Juliana. 

“Don, what the fuck are you doing her?” Lloyd growls moving closer to his wife. 

“Hospital called, I have friends on the board.” he shrugged. “They needed to know she’s allergic to Penicillin.”

“Penicillin! That’s it!” Lloyd threw his hands up remembering now. “Well you can go now.”

“I haven’t seen my little girl since you took her away and now I just saved her life and you’re sending me away?”

“I thank you for your help but I know if she wakes up with you here, she's going to be pissed and that doesn’t bode well for her recovery.”

A knock at the door had both men reaching for their concealed weapons but relaxed when the doctor entered.

“Mr. Hansen?” the doctor asked Lloyd who nodded. “The nurses said you’d arrived and no one had given you a run down of the situation.” Lloyd nodded again. “Your wife was involved in a hit and run accident. She has some bruising in various locations, notably her back. She may need physical assistance during her recovery.” the doctor flipped through her chart, reviewing additional information. “It looks like the impact rendered her unconscious  and judging by her, she hit her head in the accident so we want to keep her overnight for observation. The nurse will be in about every couple hours to check in. when she is discharged we will send over a prescription for the pain.”

“Thank you.”

“Any questions?” Lloyd shook his hand and the doctor left, leaving the two men alone with the unconscious women they both loved. 

“It was supposed to be you.” Donald said, his eyes sad as he looked at the injuries on his daughter's face. “Four assured us it was you, but by the time Six realized it was her, it was too late.”

“You ordered this?” Lloyd seethed quietly approaching Fitzroy who didn’t fight back when Lloyd tightly secured his hands around Fitzroy’s neck.

“Daddy?” The weak voice of Jewls had Lloyd dropping Fitzroy and rushing to her side. “What’s going on?”

“You were in a wreck Princess,” Lloyd stroked some hair back from her face. He knew from the look in her eyes, tone of voice, and the term she’d used to get his attention she wasn’t currently all there. “But you’re going to be okay.”

“Why is he here?”

“No, hello for your father?” he asked, clearly hurt.

“He was on the contact list, the hospital called us both but he was just about to leave.” 

Lloyd looked to Fitzroy, an understanding that Lloyd would not reveal it was her fathers men who’d try to kill her as a way to forgive the debt of Fitzroy providing Juliana’s medical history for the hospital. They were even but it was time for him to go.

“Get better sweetheart,” Donald left the room but lingered outside the room for a moment. When he’d got the call from Six his heart shattered, this world was getting to be too much. 

He called Six on his way out of the hospital striking up a deal, he’d pass the family to Six in exchange he was to ensure the safety of both Clarie and Jewls. Clarie was nearing 22 now, he could arrange the marriage of her to Six to ensure the girls safety. The way Lloyd looked at Juliana looked at one another was genuine, his little girl was truly in love with his enemy. Her choice to abandon him for Lloyd was now justified in his eyes, there was no greater or compelling force. She was on the other side of the war and there was no way to broker a peace with the Rogers Family. She was lost to him forever and after today there would be no chance encounters but this life was her choice and he’d respected that. 

His wife was a badass, he’d know that but hyped up on meds she was a massive crybaby. Given her injuries he understood but he really wished she’d reduce her amounts of complaints. 

[outlustings]

I saw an anon mention that they've only seen one Billy Hope piece and I would like to make it TWO so I present you my hopeful request: Reader is one of the people who preform maintenance on the engine Billy is held so they know how it works and shit, im using that one request before this to say he visits their dreams while they sleep and basically shows them how he sees them(nasty thoughts included, of course), reader gets him out(or not, up to you), and then sexy nanite(or whatever it is) time

(lmao this is long and bad. genuinely can't write anything but graphic, fucky wucky, hardcore porn anymore. fml.

tried to make it gender neutral. content warning for smut that includes the walrider because uhm yes. just overall graphic nsfw but also fluff things and idk idk dikkdkdks. kind of gore mentions also? not really but you know me and my edgy dream imagery things. gross stuff. also. the walrider is a functional waterproof vibrator now i guess. that's. what we're going with now. yeah.

sorry this took so long, it's been what like several months since you requested this. oops.)

×

You hated looking at him. All that pale, distended skin, webs of maroon veins bursting underneath it, dark red tubes against what little colour was left in his cheeks. Those unblinking eyes, blue, bulging out, staring into nothing and everything at the same time, never reacting to your movement. Just the screen. It all looked so painful and there was nothing you could do about it. You hated looking at the worst mistake on this side of the planet - but you said nothing. Nodding absentmindedly to him before getting to work on the pod. Your supervisors always thought you were odd.

"Bedside manners," you had mumbled, flicking specks of metallic dust off of your plastic blue coveralls before shoving your hand into your toolbox.

"He can't hear you, you know that, right?"

You could hear the smirk behind that stupid mask.

"Yeah," you shrugged and unscrewed the lid of the heavy-duty industrial lubricant, slathering it onto the joints right beneath the bottom of the sphere, trying not to look at how Hope's toes wiggled - in a perverse way, you thought, maybe your administrations felt ticklish - but it was just metal, "But you know... I just - yeah."

You felt stupid.

You shrugged again. Your head hurt. It was the fifth time that week you had to work on these switches. Stiff as all hell.

"Stiff as all hell," you said.

Conversation.

"Uh-huh," the doctor nodded.

You nodded back. Tried to ignore the gurgling coming from the pod. You tried not to look at Hope.

                                       ×

You saw him a lot. Way too much for it to be healthy - fuck, the poor man looked like he was one good sneeze away from cardiac arrest. They kept him wired into the engine constantly. All the time, hooked up into thousands of sensors, just floating there in a mixture of life support fluid and his shedding skin cells, dancing in the pool water-like sludge. You wondered if he felt anything.

You dug your screwdriver into a small panel underneath the console, wiggling it against the tiny screws, your sweaty back digging into the metal floor, one rogue electric cord underneath your bum, making you shift your hips in discomfort. You were always doing the dirty work, always on your knees on the floor or on your back, bent in some awkward position as you tried to reach into the innards of some fancy German-made part of this machine of wonders.

Well, at least I'm not being bent in Blaire's office, that's for sure. Things could always be worse.

You heard a bubbling, garbled noise that made the wires emit a small purple spark right in front of your eyes. You jolted, hitting your head on the underside of the console, the crash making you whimper as your nose was filled with the fishy scent of an electrical fire. You gagged, rubbing your forehead and crawled from beneath the console as you heard bootsteps.

"I'm okay!" you sighed, trying to rise up to your kneed but the doctors scurried past you without as much as one look.

Oh.

You flicked your eyes to the sphere, watched as large bubbles billowed around Hope's sharp nose, rising to the top of the sphere before dissolving into smaller ones, skittering across the glass. You couldn't help but stare. The sound. But it was too loud, it couldn't have been him. It was inside your head.

"Hope's doing something, someone get this in the log - dammit, where's Andrew?"

"Diaphragm contractions by the looks of it. Is he speaking?"

"He better not be speaking. If that happens, we need -..."

You rose up from the floor.

"You," someone called out, pointing at you, snapping their fingers - the rubber gloves made it sound more like the crack of a very small whip, "What were you doing?"

"Repairs," you crossed your arms.

"He's laughing," someone gasped.

"No the fuck he's not. Someone go check the fluid valve, now."

"He laughed."

"What'd you do?"

The question was directed at you. You tore your eyes off of Hope, off of the black pinpoints of his pupils.

"Uhh," you cleared your throat, "I banged my head?"

It felt like such a natural answer.

"You banged your head?" you saw the doctor cock an eyebrow, the skin around his goggles stretching ever so slightly.

You heard someone grunt: "Oh, fuck me."

But he had laughed. Before - no. Maybe, just maybe, you had imagined it. Hope was not inside your mind. He couldn't be. But he had indeed laughed.

                                        ×

Hope shifted his bare feet, his eyes still firmly on the wavy floor.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he muttered, his lips moving stiffly as your vision swam as you could feel your light snores rattling the back of your throat. You were afraid you were going to choke on your breath and wake up. You shook your head.

"Why are you here?" your voice sounded distant, too distant. Even his breathing was louder in your ears than your own voice, and you hated it, hated how he engulfed your senses with the pungent scent of antiseptic spray and latex gloves, the buzzing in your bones, like a thousand or a million dentist's drills grinding you down bit by bit.

Hope shrugged.

"I don't know," his lips twitched into a smile that quickly faded away. You blinked at him.

"But - how? I thought that - whatever. You shouldn't do this. I'm going to have to report this."

Your sound was mechanical, devoid of the whirlpools of emotion in your chest.

"Maybe - maybe don't do that," Hope gritted his teeth, let out a bitter laugh as he wrung his hands together. You watched the tendons in his forearm flex and relax. He was so skinny.

"I have to," you didn't even look at him. Empty threats. How would you even begin that conversation?

"Yeah, how would you?" he moved closer to you, his hand on your shoulder, cupping the roundness of the joint, his thumb massaging your skin.

"You heard that," you grunted. Not a question.

"Yeah. I hear a lot of things. Your thoughts, I guess. Your head is a mess."

"Really?" you looked up at him, feeling weightless as you watched the shuddering glint in his eyes, "I haven't had any complaints yet."

He grinned. You traced the hollow of his cheek with your index finger. His skin was cold, wet.

"Hope," you clicked your tongue, smirking, as the inky blackness swirling beneath your feet rose up your ankles, wrenching you down into a swamp as you heard the distant beeps of your alarm, watched his face staring down at you as you sank, down, down, your eyes half-open.

"Billy."

"Sorry - Billy."

                                        ×

It became a routine. It was almost tiring, having dreams of Billy Hope. You reported your dreams to a superior, got a pamphlet handed to you and that was it - you never called any of the numbers on the faded printing, you didn't feel like you needed to. Every night you went to sleep, you saw Billy, and it brought some excitement to your monotonous routine.

His skin was smooth, not as rough as you remembered it being at work. You thought it was funny.

You sat on the edge of a tub in a room full of tubs. Something was oddly familiar about it. Everything about Billy was oddly familiar.

"So, uh, how's - how's everything?" you swung your feet back and forth in the tub, the ripples of bloody water lapping against the old porcelain, "The doctors said that you were like restless or something."

Billy quirked a brow and absentmindedly, he prodded at his rubber duck, watching it dance on top the ripples you had caused.

"I mean," he shrugged, shifting his knees on the floor, watching the duck's head bob up and down, "I'm always restless."

"But I've been busy with maintenance. You keep short circuiting the thing," you lifted your toe up from the water, wiggling it at the duck as it bumped against it, disgusting neon yellow against drab, rusty blood.

"Oh really?" Billy sighed, pressing his cheek against the rim of the tub, dipping his arm into the water.

"I think -..." you paused, "I think it's because you want to see me more often."

"Oh, yeah?" he eyed the water with a grin, scoffing, "Right, right, okay."

You swallowed.

"But it's true," you smiled, poking his arm with your toe, "I'm your friend."

"I see lots of doctors when I sleep."

"I'm not a doctor."

"You're not special either."

You frowned.

"That's mean," you mumbled.

Billy craned his neck up, flashing you a smirk before picking up his duck and pushing it towards you. A silent olive branch.

"But you're cool," he relented, grinning at your pout, "I'll give you that."

"You like me," you fired back, crossing your arms, swirling your leg around in the blood, "And I'm going to kick you if you try to claim otherwise."

Billy laughed, throwing his head back, his shoulders heaving as his laughter made your face split slowly into a grin.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," his drawl made your stomach jolt as he called you that, "But I'll have to retaliate."

You leaned towards him, bracing your elbows on your knees as you wiggled your toes in the warm blood, the duck floating between your calves, bobbing up and down as Billy's fingers brushed against your leg.

Everything tasted of copper when he leaned up to peck your lips.

                                        ×

You felt awful, fiddling around with the wires by day and spending romantic nights with a mirage of him. You hated how you had to see him get tortured every day, yet, when you came home and downed your sleeping pills so that you'd be knocked out as soon as possible, he was always happy to see you. You sometimes forgto he was the man in the engine, yet, his eyes - you always knew by his eyes. He was Billy Hope, and you spent your nights with Billy Hope.

Week after week. Seaside kisses that tasted of the ocean, then the dingy corners of Mount Massive again. Wilted roses that had greedy, open mouths, like lamprey eels, and a chaste peck to your cheek from him. Hours upon hours of conversation, playful shoves to his shoulder, then going to work and seeing his progress charts go downhill, the antsy supervisors snapping at you to hurry up with the rewiring already. You hated the day, but always looked forward to the night. Billy always took you somewhere, and the thing inside him, inside you, around you - wherever it was, purred and thrummed, buzzing through you.

When he kissed you in your dreams you felt free. Hot, wet, sweaty, but free. He tasted of nothing and everything. You guessed you were munching on your sheets, perhaps, but he tasted like home. The way he grinned after he had kissed you, the way his teeth glistened with your combined saliva - it was gross, but you loved every second of it. Everything inside you felt warm and lovely, the static that caused you headaches when you were awake had turned into a pleasant thrumming in your abdomen as Billy walked you down the streets of a malformed Paris. You couldn't even recognise your laugh inside the dreams, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered as he pushed you down onto the oddly soft and mushy cobblestones, yanking your pants down as you giggled softly.

You felt his tongue inside you, brushing against your sensitive flesh as your fingers intertwined, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand tenderly as you bucked up against his mouth, moaning.

The Walrider purred inside you as Billy lapped at your flesh, dipping inside you with the stiff tip of his tongue, his eyes gleaming up at you from behind your heaving chest as you ground against him faster, faster, grinning at the way he called your name as he devoured you, and your hand flew to your sex, stroking, stroking as Billy stood up and entered you in one swift thrust, his cock throbbing inside of you, buried to the hilt, and the air dried up around you and somewhere, an alarm beeped as you rocked your hips against his, watched his face twisting into an expression of pleasure as he gripped your hips, driving into you. An alarm beeped somewhere as your jaw fell slack against your chest, a hungry grin spreading on your face as you felt his cock slide in and out, your bodies twisting and floating in a vacuum as he fucked you, and somewhere, Billy's moans melted into a furious, mechanical noise as he came inside you, and the alarm beeped and beeped.

Your entire body jolted in your sweaty sheets as you woke up, your eyes shooting wide open as you heard a hoarse squeak spill from your chapped lips, your dry tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth as you were suddenly awfully aware of the emptiness inside you. Your loins tingled with unresolved need and you clenched around air, legs spread, your body heavy as you stared at your ceiling, tracing the little patterns of the stucco with your stinging eyes.

"Fuck," you muttered, craning your head to the side, slapping your hand on your beeping cellphone, switching the screen on, narrowing your eyes at the bluish light - 5:30AM.

"Fuck," you repeated, your hand moving to the apex of your thighs, pressing against your arousal through the tacky pool of sweat on your underwear. You screwed your eyes shut, battled between your fatigue and your throbbing need, trying to shoo away images of Billy, of his lips against your neck, his cock inside you - no, you had to sleep. You bit your lip, slipped your hand past your waistband, your head buzzing as your hips rolled against your palm, electrified air dancing all around you as you sighed, and guided your thoughts back to Billy, your brain thrumming with the dull vibrations that always accompanied your dreams these days.

You came three times before you heard your back-up alarm ring, the sound slicing through the fog in your head.

Another September morning, and all you could smell was the blood in the back of your throat and your cum on your fingers.

                                       ×

You sniffled up another clot of blood from your broken nose, running through the hallways of pillowy, white rock, your work boots slipping on blood as you jumped over what used to be your coworkers. Panic made your lungs feel like two tiny balloons about to pop, all you could taste was blood and plastic and electricity and copper and blood - but you had to get to Billy.

You made a sharp turn, skidding on the wet floor, bumping into the concrete of the wall, but you didn't dare stop. You had to get to Billy before Murk Tactical.

                                       ×

A few overrides of some security systems and the pressing of a button was all it took. You watched as the liquid slowly drained around his twisting body, how the sphere lowered itself onto the ground as the engine sequence screen flashed an error message. The hinges of the sphere popped, and you reached in, swallowing back your sobs.

You hooked your arms underneath his, fighting against the resistance of the lukewarm liquid, dragging Billy out of the sphere by his armpits. Your boots slipped and skidded against the plastic as salty, stinging liquid crashed in waves against your face as Billy thrashed in your grip.

"I've got you, I've got you," you gasped, pulling him from the liquid, his arms seizing against the tubes that hung loose in the sphere, tangled around his limbs like seaweed as you heaved and pulled with all your might, finally hearing Billy cough and spit as you lost your balance, fell onto the grates below you with a harsh thump with Billy's narrow frame atop yours. You panted, trying to pat Billy's exposed, clammy skin as you scrambled to your feet, muttering feverishly as you watched his chest heave with every rattling breath he took, his lungs expanding for the first time in days. You turned him on his side, your heart racing inside your chest as you wiped at your face, blood and life support fluid dripping from the tip of your nose and onto his pale skin.

"Billy?" you choked out, cradling his face in your hands, watched how his face twisted into a grimace as he sputtered the remaining liquids out of his throat, "Billy, can you hear me?"

He hacked and cleared his throat, letting out a small squeak as he opened his eyes, wide and terrified as he shivered on the floor, watching up at you as you knelt beside him with his face in your hands.

"What the fuck - why did you take me out?" his voice was raspy, harsh, gravelly. Not at all like the voice you were used to, the voice inside your head. You gulped.

"We have to go," you took him by the shoulders, slowly lifting his torso up off the floor, "Can you walk?"

"Why did you take me out of there?"

You shook your head.

"Not now, let's go."

You stood up on shaky legs and pulled him up with you, your hand slipping on the moisture of his skin.

"Can you walk?" you repeated, at a loss for words, turning your eyes away as the intensity of his gaze racked through you. It was almost accusatory, the look in his eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that, love," he muttered, "This place will be goin' to shit if I go. I need to -..."

"Billy, please," you begged, swiping at your stray hairs in frustration, tugging at his arm, your eyes skimming over his form. The blinking lights of the machine reflected off him, the droplets running down his chest to his navel glimmering with trembling reds and greens, "I bought us some time but they'll come and - please, let's get out of here."

You nudged him to follow you and he started walking behind you, with you pulling him forward by the arm as you whipped your head around and around to look for an exit, careful not to make eye contact with him.

"Let's go," you mumbled, "Are you - are you cold?"

You felt stupid for asking.

"A lil'," he grunted, "Stop. Stay. We need to talk."

"Right now?" you groaned in frustration, tugging at his wrists, but he dug his heels into the floor, stubbornly.

"You took me out of there."

"Because I don't want you to die, god, is it really - Billy, let's just go and you can - you can - sue me or whatever -..."

"Sue you? Wait, what?"

"...- you want, because right now, we need to get out of here," you gritted your teeth, eyes still fixed on the metal stairs, silently begging for him to follow you with a tender squeeze to his wrist, but he didn't budge.

"I just want you to say why."

"We need to go, we can't stay here!"

"No, tell me."

"Please, Billy, I -..."

"I know you need me."

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning around to face him, your cheeks burning.

"What?" you blurted out. A little too quickly for it to sting.

He stepped closer to you, his body mere inches from yours. This time, you couldn't turn away, couldn't look away. All you saw was the intense blue of his eyes, the nervousness glinting in them that betrayed his confident stance, his chest pressed against yours.

"You need me just as much as I need you," he said. Not hesitantly, not carefully or with a prodding edge, just as if it was a fact. And it was. You hated that he knew it all, you hated this connection.

"I know," you swallowed, "I just... How? How are you in my dreams? I saw you every night - I guess..."

"The dreams," he mumbled, "I saw you. And we... God, I've waited for you. For so long."

"You saw them too? You - you were really there? I'd hoped Wernicke was - was wrong about... All of the - uh," you gestured broadly, your lips a thin line. Your throat felt dry, arid, as you looked up into his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as shame flushed over you, "I'm sorry - god, I... Uh... You saw everything, huh?"

Billy chuckled.

"No need to apologize, love," he smiled, "I liked them. I liked seeing you. And I know you, uh - were more than happy to see me as well, weren't you?"

He lowered his voice as his lips neared yours. You could barely breathe, but you desperately wanted to gulp in his scent, drink in his musk as his breath tickled your lips.

"I really liked them," you muttered, "The dreams."

"I could always taste your cum on my lips when I woke up," he whispered.

You moved your head closer to his, felt his lips on yours, and kissed him deeply, your hands flying to his shoulders as you poured your heart out into the heat of his mouth, a cathartic buzz running through you as you tasted him.

His teeth grazed against your bottom lip, his tongue on yours, rubbing greedily against your heat as he devoured your lips, his thin fingers stroking your cheeks. You felt the muscles of his face against you, felt the furrowing of his brow as he kissed you desperately, again, and again, not breaking the seal between the two of you. And you let him. You were too deep in his scent, you tasted nothing but him, his flesh, his need as you clawed at his shoulders. Your chest ached with tenderness as you pulled back with a disgusting smack slipping from your mouth. You craned your head back, gave Billy a slight grin, watched how his icy eyes fluttered open. You could count all of his lashes, dark and thick, all of his premature wrinkles as he sniffled, his lips parted as he dove into you again.

You chuckled against his lips as he bent you backwards, your back arching as he pressed into you, the liquid on his skin seeping into your clothes as the vibrations in the air made you feel dizzy - you just clung onto Billy, clung onto whatever held you and him together, suspended in the cool air of the engine chamber.

"Billy," you gasped as he nipped at your lip, "Billy, we gotta go."

He hummed. Flicked his tongue over yours, pressing his chest flush against yours. Sighed. Hot. Heaving.

"Billy?" you felt him pepper kisses on your jaw as you tried to pull away from him, "Billy, I don't - we should go."

"No."

You felt something unspeakable in the room. Frustration. Something. It made your skin crawl.

"N-no?" you squeaked as you felt Billy's palms run down your waist, then to your hips, moving down - and there, he cupped and groped at your ass through your pants, and you gasped again, tossing a quick glance behind you, watching for a millisecond as he kneaded your asscheeks, as if to make sure it was really happening. You swallowed thickly, turning back to Billy, just in time to watch his head dip against your chest, his tongue on your throat as he sucked at the tender flesh, making you moan involuntarily.

"Billy, fuck," you shook your head, yet your hands remained on his shoulders, not trying to pry him away, but pulling him closer as he laved his tongue over your exposed collarbone, his hands making quick work of your buttons, his hips grinding against your thigh as you walked backwards, your butt bumping against a table, "Billy - we have to go."

"I need you. I - you have no idea - I can't even..." his breath was hot on your skin, his hands on your tender flesh as he humped against you like an animal in heat, desperation swirling in the air around you as you tried to understand, tried to fight off reason and the urge to run to the nearest exit with or without him, "I can't even - touch myself... I seen you... And I can't..."

He grunted.

You licked your lips.

"Billy..."

You yelped as he pressed you against the console, papers scattering and slicing through the air, pens clattering to the floor as he shoved you down, pressing your chest against the table with one spidery hand. His fingers curled against your flesh, you could feel the heat of his skin against yours, even through your clothes. You gasped, trying to wriggle free of his grip, feeling his hips against the curve of your ass as he bent you down, moving against you with small grunts as you tried to lift yourself up.

Fuck - not now.

"Billy..." you gasped, feeling his soft hands caress you roughly from your hips all the way to your neck, where he buried his fingers into your hair, digging them into your scalp as he ground against you, "Billy - not - not here - not now, we have to -..."

You whined as you felt his stiff cock press against your ass, felt his heated desperation through his boxers.

"I need you," he rasped, pushing you down, with one splayed palm on the small of your back as he thrusted against you, shallow little ruts of his narrow hips against your butt. You gripped the table beneath you, biting your lip as you heard him groan, low and throaty as he slid his hands on your hips, guided them towards his erection in slow, smooth circles.

"Fu-uck, Billy -..." you tried to swallow down your moans, "We have to get out before - before..."

Your brain was filled with the thrum of the machines around you, beeps and whirring sounds mingling with the steady rushing of your own blood in your brain, but through it all, you heard and felt the pleasant buzz that had engulfed your head in so many of your dreams. The Walrider. It spoke to you. It spoke to you while Billy ground his hips against yours, his stiff cock resting against your backside as the thing inside him spoke to you.

Relax. You're safe.

You squeezed your eyes shut, felt the static inside your lungs, making you choke on your breath and groan loudly as you felt Billy yank your pants down behind you, his cold hands kneading your asscheeks, little breathy mumbles falling from his chapped lips.

"I know," you moaned to whomever would listen, "I know, but -..."

"Relax," Billy shushed you hoarsely, bending down to place a tender kiss to the nape of your neck - the wetness of his skin made you shudder as he touched your burning skin. You didn't even realise how aroused you were until now.

"I've been waiting for so long... Fuck..." he hissed, giving your ass a gentle squeeze, "My lil' butterfly. My everything."

You let out a shaky laugh as he slipped his hand between your legs, touching your needy flesh in soft strokes, the warmth of your rushing blood radiating into his hand, making him as warm as you, bringing him to life, little by little as he rubbed you, your throbbing flesh twitching in his grasp. You moaned, slamming your hands against the consoles, uncaring of the hollow error sounds they emitted - you didn't care. You couldn't. Not with him between your legs.

So sweet for us all. Such soft, warm flesh.

"Oh, Billy," you choked out, hissing as you felt the warm, wet tip of his cock brush against your skin as he pulled it out from his boxers, his other hand still on your sex as he stroked himself, the slick little sounds making you dizzy, the buzzing inside you growing almost unbearable, "Fuck - Billy..."

You gritted your teeth together, trying to hold back tears of overwhelming emotion. You felt complete, being so near to him. Yet so numb and empty. Everything was so wrong.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

You shook your head.

"Don't," Billy murmured softly, "Hey, listen -..."

His long, thin fingers on your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around so that you faced him as you sniffled.

"No, I'm fine," you hiccuped, embarassment and lust dripping inside your gut in white hot splats, all against the buzzing, the static, "I'm fine."

"Com'ere."

He scooted your bare butt up onto the desk, lifted you as if you weighed nothing, pressed his forehead against yours as he closed you in a gentle embrace.

"It's fine," he cooed, "Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared," you shook your head, feeling stupid, "I just - I..."

You didn't even know.

You want this, don't you? We can taste it in the air.

You let out a soft gasp as you felt wisps of buzzing clouds against your skin, black mist that felt sharp yet silky at the same time, whirring around Billy's arms, then spilling down your back in cooling cascades as he embraced you.

"D'you want it...?" he whispered in your ear.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the mist slither around your legs, nudging them to rest on Billy's hips, allowing him access as his cock throbbed against your stomach.

Now. We've been waiting for so long.

"Yeah," you chuckled, feeling Billy's lips against the bridge of your nose as the cloud of static around you dove between your legs, hungrily, even before you'd finished your words - they knew. Billy always knew, but he was courteous enough to ask.

"I can't hear ya," he muttered, pressing his chapped lips against your neck, his tongue flitting out to taste your sweat as you moaned, clung to the rippling muscles of his back, pulling him closer to your lust.

You could feel the sharp curve of his grin against your skin, the wetness of his teeth as the sharp edges grazed against you. The swarm slithered between the two of you, caressing, buzzing against the throbbing need inside your skin, touching and toying with your liquid heat, tugging your trousers to your ankles like a warm breeze - fuck, it was all too much - and you whimpered as you felt Billy sink his teeth into you as you felt the hot, leaking tip of his cock rest against your abdomen, throbbing, and you were gone.

"Fuck me," you whined, "God, Billy, fuck me. Please."

With a boyish grin and a tender kiss to your neck, he moved his head back, his hips forward.

"You see what you do to me?" he grunted, his hands on your cheeks, squishing your face as he ground his hard cock against you, "Fuck, so perfect for me. S'good."

You moaned as you felt the thrum of the Walrider against your sex, the little particles whirring against your skin as they rushed to feed on your fluids, nipping, devouring you and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Billy, please, oh please, please..."

"Put it in," he kissed your lips, a soft, quick peck, rubbing circles on your flushed cheeks with his thumbs, "Your hand. Need it."

You spread your legs further, jolts of pleasure washing over your abdomen in slow, rattling waves as you reached down, wrapped your hands around his slender length, gave it a few pumps, feeling how his hot breath matched the warm liquid that spilled onto your fingers, so slick, so hot, all for you. You braced yourself against it, feeling the blunt tip against your entrance.

"Wait," you stammered, "I need to -..."

You gave a slight smile to him before craning your head forward, swirling saliva on your tongue before letting a pearly string drop onto the tip of his cock, massaging your lube onto him. His fingernails dug into your cheeks as he moaned, low and guttural. Like a growl. You felt the Walrider against you, buzzing aggressively, purring against you as you stroked Billy's dick, spreading your spittle on him before guiding him down to your entrance again, rubbing it up and down, up and down until Billy was breathing harder than ever.

"Christ, you're so hot - what the fuck?" he chuckled, pressing his forehead against you. The swarm jutted against you, pressing against your thigh, like a second, needy appendage, misty and flowy but awfully solid.

"Ready?" you sighed.

He nodded, his perspiring forehead sliding against yours as he began pushing inside. Slowly. Very slowly, stretching you, and as he speared into you, sheathing his cock into you fully, his blunt tip making you squeal as it went deep, too deep, you thought you heard something like a low, growling breath inside and all around you. Tendrils of black smoke, swirling feverishly creeped up between your legs.

You inhaled deeply and looked up into Billy's eyes as he furrowed his brows, moaning at your tightness.

"Fuck - tight..."

"Start moving."

He snapped his hips back with a shuddering breath, before slamming his cock into you again. Deep and fast. Again. Again. Your butt slid on the table as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to grind against his thrusts as he fucked you quick and hard, and as you got lost in your own moans, the slimy sounds of him entering you, the whirring of the Walrider, you felt something inside you. Fuller. More. More, but it moved, intruded, pushed you further apart and thrummed with life. Billy groaned and you squeaked.

Inside. Need inside.

It went deeper than Billy. Swirling around his cock, buzzing inside you and you felt dizzy as it fucked you both, Billy's groans becoming higher in pitch as it squeezed his cock, stretched you further, demanded its own space inside you, but not displacing him, and you felt like you were going to split in two as it swelled inside you, thrumming and pistoning into your sweet spot, curving, probing, curious.

You swore as Billy thrusted in feverishly, his lips on yours, his teeth on your bottom lip as your back hit the wall behind you again and again with a bruising force, your legs dangling by his hips like those of a useless ragdoll as Billy fucked you. You felt something solid, strong grip your thighs, supporting you. It.

It tried to help.

You mewled into Billy's mouth as you twitched and clenched around him, your skin sweaty and slippery as you were about to cum as the Walrider tore you apart, begging for you to let it deeper.

"Billy, I'm going to -..." you gasped.

Do it. So tight.

Your legs shook.

Need to be inside. Such a good host.

You felt like your abdomen was swelling with every thrust, your insides throbbing as you danced on the precipice of cumming as the Walrider kept on vibrating inside you.

Could be inside you forever. Make you full, bursting with more of us.

"Can I - inside - please...?" Billy panted against you and you nodded, eyes squeezed shut as your legs went limp and the tight band inside you stretched and snapped and you came hard. Teetering on being an agonizingly tight squeeze around their cocks - you realized, hazily - your muscles clenched and seized around them as your abdomen burned with lovely buzzes of pleasure and wanton, throaty moans spilled from you, from Billy, from the air around you as you felt the electric, hot gush of cum inside you. Billy's narrow hips stilled and he pressed his face into your heaving chest as he shuddered and came with raspy whines, the Walrider milking you both until your vision went blurry and your whole body felt warm and numb and you could hear and feel obscene amounts of fluid hit the metal ridges on the floor, hollow little splats of pearlescent cum and Billy moaning in your ear. You tried to catch your breath, you really did. Everything felt so heavy. He slipped out of you with a weak groan, his glistening length soft and drained. But the Walrider remained, smoky little tendrils of tiny black particles inside your swollen flesh, soothing, massaging you gently through your aftershocks. You whimpered, feeling yourself clench around it in tight pulses - it wouldn't come out, not yet.

"Fuck," you whined, "Fuck, Billy," you swallowed, tasting your sweat on your upper lip before giving him a weak grin as he tucked himself back into his pants, grunting when your trembling knee brushed against the inside of his thigh.

The Walrider purred inside you. And you honestly didn't mind it. Not anymore. Not when Billy was there.

Make sure you're filled. Make sure you're well.

You heard faint gunshots from somewhere, miles above you, and sighed. Faint. Faint, like raindrops, you thought as Billy kissed your forehead, scooping you up from your seat and crushing you to his chest, your trembling body enveloped in static heat as the air around you whirred and buzzed as Billy pressed you to him. You hoped to god you'd survive.

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 176: Sendai Colony, No. 2: The Femme Fatale, or how I love female characters that are not afraid of their sexuality

Happy JJK-Sunday!

Everyone: writes about how much they love Yuta.

Me and my stupid unpopular opinions: this naked chick right here I like.

If it isn’t cockroaches I’m writing about, it’s about how a naked chick inspired me. 

This isn’t just about me not being entirely straight and thinking Uro is sexy af... as a woman, I am a sucker for the art of seduction, an art I absolutely suck at, might I add, because I am very androgynous--I’ve been called a “very sexy boy” before... I took it as a compliment.

...So this is defo not a rant about Uro being sexualized but, oddly enough, an appreciation rant about her nakedness.

I don’t know... I’m weird like that. Sue me.

I honestly wasn’t going to write anything this week.

And then I had coffee and...

Also... how lucky that there was a coffee gif featuring Marilyn Monroe, one of the greatest sex symbols of all time who also happened to be an incredibly smart woman. 

I’ve read/heard speculations about how she could not reconcile this projection cast upon her as the sex symbol when there was much more to her beyond that projection, and that this is what ultimately broke her. 

And we can also say two of the contemporary sex symbols in the US, Britney Spears and Megan Fox, suffered from a similar fate.

The femme fatale is a toxic trope

I think I was going down the #jungian psychology tag the other day when I ran into a post in which someone wrote about how the femme fatale is a projection of a man’s fear of woman’s sexuality as “neurotic and devouring”, and I could not agree more!

Read it here: Thoughts on femme fatale.

Actually, the formal definition of the femme fatale is that she is someone who uses her charm and her beauty to ensnare men and bring misfortune to them. 

A definition that is, in all honestly, quite misogynistic if you ask me because it focuses on woman’s sexuality as inherently evil, or something to be avoided at all costs. That’s the Judeo-Christian religion’s disdain for the body and the patriarchy working their magic for you. Basically, if you are not a Madonna, you are a Whore.

A sexually empowered woman is, in other words, something to fear. 

For men, she is the epitome of “one night stand material” but never “the girl you bring home to your parents”. For women, she is a threat for multiple reasons--one of them being that we are scared of our own sexuality and see men as nothing but pigs who only care about sex (which is in turn, a very misandrist perspective in itself).

If you’ve read/seen Soul Eater then you know that the point of these panels in the first chapter is to show that while Soul is physically attracted to Blair (hence the nose bleeds), he appreciates and prioritizes depth.

In fact, Atsushi Okubo’s manga walks a fine line in that he relies heavily on fan service as a trope, and yet, his message is always quite the opposite--it’s what is inside that matters.

Along the same lines, Gege showed us that while Yuji likes the big bootay, what has left a lasting impression on him has been feminine internal qualities like elegance.

Unfortunately, it seems to me like we live in a world that can’t quite comprehend the nuance that can be found in holding the tension of opposites. 

Why can’t a woman be a sexually empowered being AND a feminist?

Is it possible to decide for yourself that you are a beautiful and desirable woman for the mere fact that you’ve decided that for yourself and at the same time not be defined by these traits?

In other words, is it possible to acknowledge that we, as human beings, are animals with sexual instincts who have the conscious capacity to transform sexuality into something of beauty? #sex positivity.

Like... say an appreciation of elegance like in Yuji’s case. 

And yes, even an appreciation of the female body and its beauty.

Smileys added for emphasis and because Tumblr.

Like this!

Why does the femme fatale need to only represent toxic femininity?

As a self-abscribed “witch,” my best guess is that we are scared of how powerful female sexuality is.

I’m not saying Remi’s approach is something to look up to... but all the girl had to do was bat her eyelashes at non-sorcerer Reggie and she was able to lean back into her femininity and let someone else rescue her. 

She wanted a Knight in Megumi for a reason... Remi is someone who is perfectly happy playing the role of damsel in distress because she lacks the mental capacity to empower herself and take accountability for her life.

And I love that Gege is exploring themes like these because he’s kind of letting the readers know “this is what I think about this situation” through jjk. Consider that Gege might be aware of how big a platform he has, of how big an audience he has, and how he can use his platform to share his view of the world.

This is not to say that the sexualization of women isn’t real. 

My god Marin’s boobs sure are bouncy... I would not know what that feels like.

But... is it possible that there are mangaka who can appreciate jiggly boobs AND depth of character + character development + strength?

For me, precisely because of the fan service in the anime, Sono bisque doru wa koi wo suru captures that essence. 

But what about other titles? What about JJK which has always been all about “not sexualizing its female cast”?

Takako Uro in the sky with no clothes on 

Ok, first, this is my personal opinion! My personal opinion is not fact.

But one of the things I LOVE about JJK is Gege’s characterization. Like my other favorite, Furudate Haruichi, Gege is really good at giving depth to his characters through story-telling--even if the character is a minor one.

We saw it with a lot of the characters that were introduced for the Culling Game arc: Hakari, Kirara, Higuruma, Takaba, Remi, and now I am hoping that Uro suffers the same fate since it is not a farfetched idea to think that she could side with Yuta given his ancestor historically opposed the Fujiwara clan.

And this is what we know about Uro right now:

She can manipulate the sky, she is a sorcerer from the past with regrets about her first lifetime, and she’s naked.

Like... who does that? Who fights in battles to death naked?

Who goes around killing people naked? Uro, that’s who. 

I don’t know about you but those dreams where I am naked in front of a crowd are unnerving, let alone a fight to death. 

So to me, Uro is a character who is comfortable enough in her body suit to where she’s happy to flaunt her beauty so freely. What’s more, the fact that Gege chose to draw a naked woman makes me wonder about what he’s trying to say about her and her story. 

Will he write a shit story without depth for her? Maybe. But so far, Gege has always given all of his characters some sort of depth (except for Tsumiki--and I am hoping that there is a grander reason for it).

Not to mention this whole idea about getting a second chance at life through reincarnation in order to have the opportunity to right one’s regrets from the past is something I am very curious to see Gege explore.

Not to mention that as Gege fleshes out the idea that Cursed Techniques are somewhat related to the user’s personality, I kind of have to wonder about Uro’s ability to manipulate the sky as if it were a surface.

So yeah... naked lady in the sky... that’s where my mind was this week for no other reason than because I headcanon Gege was looking at some sexy chick for reference when he drew the first panel in this chapter.

Like... this photograph:

Which looks to have been inspired by this movie’s poster (that happens to be a cult classic):

And to me, this doesn’t scream “sexualization” but rather “appreciation” of female beauty.

While he clearly has a way to go, to me, to see Gege choosing to draw Uro in such a risqué way, it tells me how Gege is at the forefront of how Shonen manga portrays female characters--he likes and can appreciate the female body in all of its glory (instead of demonizing it or fetishizing it), but in the end, he’s clear in getting his point across that the inside matters too. 

One is not more important than the other. In JJK the body = the soul.

But more importantly, to draw a diverse cast of female characters who have very a wide range of attitudes about femininity and what it means to be a woman in a man’s world (because Japan is a man’s world) is something I really dig about JJK.

...if anyone reads this post, thank you for joining me in my weird tangent of a ramble this week. 

Happy JJK-Sunday.

[dulceskull]

check out PINK SUGAR on webtoon for more of stupid, sexy blair

[originallandlockedmariner]

This is me.

I say hi to dogs, moo at cows and gush over babies and kittens and puppies and grogu. I’m a courtesy flusher, wicked awesome steering wheel guitarist, and I open chip bags with my teeth. I believe in chivalry, ghosts, manners, manifestation and using my turn signal. I’m a girl drink drunk. I have no energy for liars. When it comes to exploratory cooking, I’m your test subject. Sleestaks, Ogopogo, Witchy Poo, Linda Blair, and brussels sprouts terrified me as a child. I think vulnerability, a woman’s confidence, and conversations that last for hours are sexy. I have 7 scars, some are visible. When I laugh hard, it turns into a wheeze and the back of my head throbs. I say fuck too fucking much. On the rare occasion, I actually finish a book I’m reading. I have never eaten at Olive Garden. I’m stupid stubborn. I’ve been to eleven weddings and half as many funerals. I don’t buy birthday cards or Christmas cards, I make them. I’m secretly still a LEGO maniac and will always be a neighbor of Mister Rogers. Chances are, I’m up before you every morning. Nine is my favourite number. My reputation has been tarnished over the years, but I’m proud of who I am. I still can’t tell the difference between a sweet potato and a yam. I’ve bumbled my way through speeches to a three grad classes and their thousand or so unimpressed family members. I had my first tattoo covered over. I am vulgar. I am private and yet a completely open book. I broke the same collarbone twice. I am most likely 67% of what you think I am. I prefer not to make reservations. I am ferociously loyal. Creativity is my catharsis. Most days, I exist in two places. I have three beauty marks on each side of my belly button. I use voice to text when I can’t remember how to spell a word. I overthink too often. I have a very unhealthy frame addiction. I���d rather show up in person than online shop. And after nearly half a century, I finally found my home.

[starbuckie]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

challenge: the cbc 1k writing challenge by @captainscanadian​

prompt: “do you treat all your hookups like this?”

pairing: carter baizen x reader

words: 4.7k words

warnings: fluff, angst, assault, swearing, some degrading comments, and implications of the sexy times 

summary: waling up next to one of New York’s most eligible bachelors brings on a lot more than what you expected.

a/n: what’s up y’all! i’ve essentially been dead for the past two weeks, but i’m back! i lost motivation for a bit, but i feel a lot better now, and what better way to come back then a little carter baizen? i ended up writing a lot more than originally intended, but i like the way it turned out. anyways, enjoy, and thank you for all of your support<3 

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

As you awoke with a long stretch and yawn, memories of the previous night had you smiling like an idiot. Sunlight streamed from the half-closed blinds of your windows and the smell of coffee wafted to your room from the kitchen. You grabbed your lover’s dress shirt from off the floor and slipped a pair of satin slippers on your feet. 

The night before had been amazing. It had started with a beach reception when you had finally caught his eye. The two of you had been playing a game of cat and mouse during the whole wedding, only giving lustful stares and shy smiles, but when you finally had a hold of each other, your night only got better. The rest of the night had the sounds of only tearing clothes, pants, and moans. 

Snapping out of your sweet reverie, you stared at the man in your kitchen. His bare back was faced towards you, giving a great view of his shifting muscles while he made pancakes. A bowl of mixed berries were laid out on the table, along with strawberry syrup and mugs of Peruvian coffee. “Do you treat all of your hookups like this, Baizen?” 

Carter, finally noticing your presence, turned around and gave you a heartwarming smile. He flipped the last few pancakes over and walked over to wrap his arms around your waist. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he mumbled, “Haha, cute joke. After everything we’ve been through babygirl, this was definitely not a hookup. And I only treat my favorite person like this, so eat up.” He gestured towards the food on the table and with a quick kiss to your lips, turned his attention back to the pancakes.

You sat in one of the chairs and took a sip of steaming coffee and looked out of the ceiling to floor windows surrounding the room. The New York City skyline would never get old from this view, no matter how long you and Carter had had this penthouse. Sighing, you looked down at your left hand, the sun casting light on the diamond on your fourth finger. 

You had been engaged for only six months, but it didn’t feel like anything new. At the age of 33, you didn’t feel any different than you did ten years before or even ten before that. Hell, you always knew that you would be Carter’s friend, but one drunken night had changed that very quickly.

As your fiance joined you at the table, he set a plate of warm pancakes in front of you. Sure, he could have had your housekeeper, Marybeth do it for him, but he also liked pampering you himself. Together, you sat in silence and stared out the windows. Carter tore his eyes away from the city to study your face. He would never understand how after twenty years of friendship, it ended with him finding his one love and putting a ring on your finger. 

“Hey, baby?” He asked, and you hummed and met his gaze. “How’d we even get here?”

You smirked and replied with, “Well, I walked from the bedroom, but I don’t know about you?”

“Don’t be cheeky,” he said, pinching your elbow. You swatted his hand away and smiled. “Anyway, what I meant to say before I was so rudely interrupted, was how did I end up with the most beautiful girl on the Upper East Side?”

“Well, if I recall, it started with me being fed up with your stupid ass, and you finally confessing that you had been madly in love with me since we were thirteen.”

“And I still am.” He moved towards you to place his lips on yours. “You’re mine now, baby.” You grinned against his lips and went to sit on his lap.

“Mr. Baizen, you’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you. With that cute little schoolboy outfit, and your hair! Oh god, remember-”

With a playful glare, he cut you off as you giggled. “We do not need to talk about my middle school style, fiancee, but I will gladly talk about when I fell in love with you.”

“That sounds good.” You smiled at each other and went back down memory lane, into your long, long, shared history.

20 YEARS EARLIER

Looking in the mirror, your maid had finished tailoring your school uniform. When she deemed you presentable she scurried out of the room to help your mother, and you immediately went to call your best friend.

“Carter, are you ready for our first day? We’re finally in eighth grade. Next year I’ll be headed off to Constance and you’ll be going to St. Judes, and there’s gonna be a whole ton of hot guys-”

Your friend’s chuckles were heard through the phone. “Y/N, we haven’t even begun the first day yet.”

“Yes, I know, but we’ll be one step closer to the best years of our lives!” Your mom’s voice called you from downstairs. Oh crap. Only the Lord knew that Andrea L/N did NOT want to be kept waiting. “Okay, my mom’s coming, but we’re coming to pick you up right now. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“See ya soon, Y/N.” You smiled at his voice and responded.

“See ya soon, Baizen.” You hung up the phone and ran to your vanity. Making sure your mascara wasn’t smudged while you had dressed, you spritzed on the Chanel perfume you had stolen from your mother's room. Truth be told, you only dressed up for Carter, but you would never tell him that. 

His parents were two of New York’s socialites, famous and wealthy, so they got along well with your parents. Though your dad didn’t pay too much attention to you, your mother made sure you kept up with your grades and social life. She was always the shoulder to cry on, offering you wisdom and advice. Not to mention, but your mom was a fantastic shoe designer. She was truly the greatest woman you knew. The two of you grew up closely with his sister Caroline, from the time you were babies to now. Caroline had gone to a boarding school in France in the fifth grade, but that didn't tear your friendship, and only made it stronger. However, while you stay poised and polite, Carter had always had a bit of a bad boy streak. Albeit, he was charming and sweet, sometimes too much for his own good, but the two of you were opposites. Yin and yang. Sun and moon. At the age of thirteen he was the Upper East Side’s darling sweet-talker, who had girls and boys alike fawning over him. 

Including you.

You never realized when you had started developing feelings for your friend, but it was a huge shock to you. It helped that he was cute as hell, but you got to see the sweet side of him, that was respectful and caring. He always made sure you were comfortable and happy, giving you a small sliver of hope that he liked you back. You always helped him, whether it was being a wingwoman, or giving him schoolwork, you were always there at his beck and call. 

The next seven years were absolutely painful for you, however. In high school, he charmed the skirt off of every single girl at Constance, and constantly blew you off for hookups and dates. When he was cut off and went to travel the world, you called him to make sure he was okay, though he always seemed fine to you. You stuck with him through everything, and the more you went on, you barely knew the man who claimed to be your best friend. 

Dating Serena was the last straw. You were twenty-one, studying political science and business to hopefully one day become a lawyer. Your father had disapproved of your majors, but your mom fully supported you. 

Sighing and putting your textbook away, you stood up and went to put something on for the party you were invited to. Normally, you would have stayed in your NYU dorm, but Carter had miraculously managed to get you to leave, claiming you needed to meet his girlfriend, who you didn’t know at the time. You grumpily slipped on a champagne sequin dress, and grabbed your white stilettos to match. After hailing a cab, you were off to Blair Waldorf’s house, unknowingly driving to the end of you and Carter’s friendship.

You had to admit that the party wasn’t half bad. Blair certainly knew how to decorate, and it wasn’t hard to believe, considering her mother was the infamous designer, Eleanor Waldorf. You bumped into a lot of old classmates from your high school years, and grudgingly exchanged greetings. When you finally found Carter, he had his arm slipped around the waist of a pretty blonde, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. He turned around, and let out a smile that normally would have made you happy, but instead filled you with dread. 

“Y/N! You made it! This is Serena Van der Woodsen.” As you went in to hug your friend, you were stopped by none other than Serena's hand stuck out for you to shake. 

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you.” You stared into her blue eyes, and were immediately filled with envy and irritation.

You had no right to be mad. You knew Carter could date whoever he wanted, but at this point you didn’t care. Exhausted, you started to yell at the couple.

“Really, Carter? You go off to travel some other goddamn countries and come back to date a high schooler? A child? Who the hell do you think you are?” The entire room went silent, all of their attention focused solely on the college girl who went crazy. Serena stared at you, absolutely dumbfounded. As she came to her senses and started to yell back, Carter stopped her.

“Y/N, let’s go outside,” he gritted out. His eyes were burning red, and you could tell he was furious, which was never a good thing.

However, at this point your emotions were so heightened that it rivaled his anger. Once the two of you were outside the building, he started lecturing you. “What the fuck was that, L/N? I introduce you to my girlfriend, and you start yelling at her. You have no control over who I date, and you have absolutely zero right to insult them. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He knew he had hit a sore spot there. He knew your deepest insecurities, how you were self-conscious about your body, and how you were saving yourself for the one. No one had ever looked at you throughout high school, and even if they had, you would’ve been too blinded by Carter to see any of them. He had always had you wrapped around his finger.

You chuckled mirthlessly. “You are such an asshole, Baizen. I have been there for you for years. I was always there to make sure you had done your homework, I looked after you, I fucking lied for you. I have done everything for you, and for fucking what?”

“So you yell at my girlfriend? I never knew you could stoop so fucking low, Y/N.” He glared at you, on the verge of tears, and saw that your face was already wet as well. “Oh, poor you. Cries whenever someone raises their voice at them. You had no right to say those things about her. What are you, jealous?”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. It was the longest five seconds of your life, as tears ran down your face in hot paths, and he stared at you, for once, not knowing what to say. 

“You are.” His gaze turned sympathetic. “Wait, Y/N, I never knew-”

“It doesn’t matter, Carter,” you yelled, “I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m not gonna go on loving you, because it’s never gonna happen and I can’t sit around to wait for you. I’m done.” With that, you left, his last memory of you stomping off into the streets of Manhattan at midnight. 

PRESENT

“That wasn’t my best moment exactly.” You cringed, face flaming from your actions that had taken place that night.

Carter placed his hand on your jaw and rubbed your cheekbone. “It wasn’t your fault, I was kind of an idiot. But in a way, I’m kind of grateful, because that really woke me up to what was happening outside of that little bubble I was in. It made me see what I had lost, and remember that it was you who finally saved me from the hole I was digging myself farther into. You were my hero. Still are.”

You grinned bashfully. “But then we ended up seeing each other two years later at that other party.”

“Oh god, the party,” he smirked, “we had some fun then, didn’t we?”

“I can’t remember, we were both drunk as fuck.” 

10 YEARS AGO

The last two years had changed you. You had still focused on school and kept up with your studies, but the old Y/N was no more. Carter Baizen had ruined your life, and now you were just getting a taste of what you had missed out on in high school. A barrier surrounded your heart, with the one rule of no man staying in your bed for more than a night. You had a reputation to uphold, of course. Every social event now had your name on the attending list, and guys were lining up at your feet for a night with you. Your hair was longer, the clothes you wore out flashier and your style rivaled that of Serena Van der Woodsen’s. You were unattainable and everyone knew your name.

Your father’s private jet flew in on the evening of December twentieth. Merula, your family’s maid, helped carry your bags from the jet and your mom greeted you with tons of hugs and kisses. However, that didn’t last very long, as you had a party to attend. Going up to your old room, you took a quick, yet luxurious bath, and went to fix yourself up. Your old closet was still intact, and you were happy to know that the short red dress you had bought five years before still fit you. After you slipped on the dress and your black heels, you curled your hair in loose waves, and swiped on some dark red lipstick.

You were dead set on getting laid tonight. But then again, when weren’t you?

With a goodnight call to your mom, you ran out to the limo waiting outside your family’s penthouse. Giving the driver the address, you pulled your compact mirror from your Valentino clutch. Flawless. Like any other night. Paying attention to your looks was now tiring. And this life was lonely. You hadn’t had any friends besides Carter at the beginning, but now you were truly by yourself.

Carter. You hadn’t thought about him in a long time. In your furious haze after the incident two years ago, you blocked him on all forms of social media, and ignored any headlines from Gossip Girl including his name. It was lonely, naturally, but you had enough men filling your bed to avoid you from the empty void in your chest. The void that was filled with whispers telling you to apologize, to call him, to take him back, because the truth was that you missed him like hell.

The party was full of college kids, neatly dressed in the chandelier-lit room. Ugh. So far you couldn’t see any lookers. A couple of guys who looked like they were in their late twenties were eyeing you up from the corner, and grabbing a flute of bubbly champagne, you headed in their direction, licking your lips. As you crossed the room, you could feel more eyes on you but you didn’t dare look at them. No, you liked being in charge, controlling the room. Heels clicking against the marble floor, you blatantly checked out the tall blonde in the middle. He was pretty handsome. Cropped hair, a muscular frame, and electric blue eyes that kind of reminded you of Carter. 

Stop thinking about him, go get laid.

You stopped in front of him. “Hey, pretty boy. Can I get your name?” 

He wasn’t even fazed by your flagrant introduction. You were absolutely shameless, and though you received glares from the other women in the room, you couldn’t have cared less. “I’m Steve. What’s your name, beautiful?”

You opened your mouth to speak and Steve’s eyes widened as he saw the figure that shouted out your name, abruptly stopping you. “Y/N?”

Freezing, you prayed that it wasn’t him. His voice that haunted you daily, and made guilt and sadness pool in your gut. It had to have been your imagination. You started again. “Sorry, but I’m-”

“Y/N.” Turning around, you came face to face, well, face to chest with Carter Baizen. He had grown taller since you had last seen him. Even with the noticeably darker bags under his eyes and growing hair, he was still as gorgeous as ever. 

“Hey, Carter.” Steve had walked away by then, not wanting to intrude, but at that moment, he was the only person you needed. Heart beating in your chest, you finally met Carter’s eyes. “How are you?”

His mouth was gaping a little, taking in your form, seeing that it was so much different than it used to be. “I’m good.” Pausing for a moment, he added, “You look great.”

A blush rose to your cheeks and you managed to mumble out, “Thanks.”

“Can we talk?” 

That’s how you ended up outside on an empty balcony overlooking Manhattan. Taxis and honking were heard, but it was fainter due to blood rushing in your ears. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “Carter, before you say anything, I want to let you know that I’m sorry. I really am. Last time we saw each other, I knew what I did was wrong, and though I was in love with you, I had no right to be upset.” Sighing, you placed your hand in his. “Can we be good again? I really hate how we left things off.”

Silently, he nodded his head, eyes wide and subtly taking you in again. The last two years hadn’t been kind to him, after Serena dumped his sorry ass, and he ended up with no money and nowhere to run to. His mom had allowed him to stay in the family house for a while, and his father was even giving him a second chance at running the company, but it wasn’t easy for him. He was slowly spiraling down, and only when he saw you did he wake up and take a look at himself properly. He looked like a piece of garbage next to you. He hadn’t even gone to school, and here you were, even more beautiful, which he never thought was possible, and a successful law student at Harvard.

“We’re good, Y/N. I brought you out here for another reason though.” He paused and looked at you as you nodded for him to continue. “It’s been a few years, I know, and I shouldn’t be saying this now, but I miss you so much. These past few years have made me realize how much of a fool I am for you, but God, I’m in love with you, Y/N, I always have been.”

You stood up, anger coursing through your veins. Now? When it’s most convenient for him? No. You needed to get drunk. “I’m sorry Carter, but I fell out of love with you one hell of a long time ago.” Swallowing the lump rising in your throat, you continued your lie. “You made your decision, I made mine. I wanted to be friends, Carter, but I can’t have that laying around us.”

Stomping away, you heard the crestfallen voice of Carter. “Y/N, wait, please.” He stumbled his way over to you, and caught your hand again before you ripped it away. “Please, Y/N, please, I’m in love with you. I’m sorry I was such an ass, I was so stupid, please.”

Tears fell from your eyes as you shook your head. “I need a drink.” 

He numbly nodded as you made your way back inside, asking one of the servers for a gin. You needed to get drunk. It was a necessity at this point, and as you got more and more tipsy through the night, you found your way back with Steve. By now the party had started to get crazier, people making out in corners and drunkenly stumbling everywhere. Steve held you up as you grinded against him, but stopped when you felt his hand go up your dress. 

“No, no thank you,” you slurred.

He smirked, giving you a steely glare. “You’re asking for it with this slutty little dress and winding me up.” He forcibly grabbed your wrists and started to drag you to a bedroom. “I own you tonight, baby.”

Before you could scream, someone came over and punched Steve in the jaw. You were speechless, staring at his already bruising face. Once again, you were being pulled away, only this time, out of the party. The person dragged you back to your place, and your drunken mind asked, “You wanna come in?” 

Without another word, the two of you were attached by the mouth, clothes being thrown haphazardly around your room. Earlier events from the evening wiped from your memories, and you could have only hoped that your parents weren’t home. Falling into your bed, you and your unknown lover tore up the bedsheets for several hours until you both drunkenly passed out.

When you woke up the next morning, you looked up. You silently thanked yourself for closing your windows before you had left the other night, and only then realized you were cold, naked, and in your own room. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself. Throwing on a robe from your closet, you looked around seeing the scattered clothes from you and whoever you had spent your night with. They were still here.

You flew down the stairs at a record-breaking speed, and slid into the kitchen, risky business style, and saw a familiar head of brown hair sitting at the table. “What the fuck, Baizen?”

Carter calmly turned around, smiling as he blew into his coffee. “Damn, Y/N, good morning to you too.”

Scoffing, you grabbed the newspaper he held in his hands and started to whack him with it. “Ow, what the hell?” He grabbed your wrists to calm you, then pulled out a chair next to him for you to sit. Reluctantly, you sat and frowned at him, raising an eyebrow to ask what happened. “Do you treat all your hookups like this?”

“Did we…” You didn’t even want to finish that sentence.

“Sleep together piss-drunk after you told me you didn’t love me back after two years? Yes, we most certainly did, beautiful.” Though your face burned red at the old pet name, you asked for what had happened. “Well, the asshole you were dancing with tried to get you in bed, but I came over and punched him, while we were both still drunk, and I got you back here, and you offered me to come inside and we fucked.”

Your eyes were comically wide, and he would have found the situation really funny if his heart weren’t beating erratically inside his chest as he awaited your full reaction. “So,” you started, “you're still in love with me.”

He tried not to let his embarrassment show, but his cheeks flamed anyway. You smiled genuinely, but you were terrified of whether he meant it or not. “Do you mean it, Carter?”

You stared into the depths of his eyes and he answered, “Yes. I’m so sorry that I was a horrible, horrible friend to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. And I know you already expressed how you felt about me, and let me say, I understand completely. If you want me to, I’ll walk out of that door right now, and you won’t have to see me again. But if you let me stay , I’ll spend every waking moment of my life making sure you feel happy and loved, and making it up to you.”

He stared at you with pleading eyes, and held your hands gently. Suddenly, stinging tears obstructed your vision, and you whimpered. “I love you, Car,” you gave him a watery smile, “never stopped.”

His eyes started to tear up as well, and smiling you finally pressed your lips to his, taking in the moment. The past few years had been torturous for you both, dealing with the loneliness and pain from your broken friendship, but slowly and surely you two built trust. It took a long time, and you took the relationship slowly, but patience was key, and it was all worth it in the end.

PRESENT

“And now we’re here?” You asked. Carter combed his hand through your hair, the soothing action making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“And now we’re here.” He glanced down at you, smiling and pecking your lips.

“Damn, we had one dramatic-ass story.” He chuckled at that and sighed.

“We sure did, baby. But hey, look at us. We’re on top of the world right now. We have a wedding in a few months, you don’t have any cases, and I have the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms right now.”

You smiled against his neck. “Hey, Car?” He hummed against your hair, looking out the window. The sun had fully risen, making the room glow. “I know we haven’t had this discussion in a while, but are we ready to have kids?” His brow furrowed, but he said nothing. “Car?”

“I mean, sure, we’re both doing so well right now, and we could raise a kid here, right? We’ve got an empty bedroom right across from ours, and we’ve got plenty of space here. I think with the combination of me and you, we’d have a pretty great kid. They’d definitely have my eyes though.” 

“They better have your eyes.” You looked up at him. “So pretty.”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead. “The wedding’s coming up pretty soon though, so we can start trying after that.” You laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Before we get too old.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes. “We’re thirty-three, Carter, we aren’t that old.”

He laughed and said, “I guess you’re right.” Heart beating in your chest, you sighed loudly. “What brought this on?”

You cupped his cheek and took a deep breath. When you had taken the test a week before you had been elated, only to freak out after realizing Carter might not feel the same. But you had been okay for ten years, right? When the two of you had finally gotten together, it did take a lot to find that balance in your relationship, but hell, you were getting married in a few months. Carter was your best friend, number one supporter, and fiance, so you prayed that he would be just as excited. 

“Carter, I’m pregnant.” Looking at him dead in the eye, you hoped that he would be happy. You awaited his reaction for a few seconds, and you wanted to scream in anticipation.

And then you saw it. 

His eyes started to water, and his hands moved to your stomach. ”Really?” He asked, voice wavering. You nodded, eyes beginning to tear up as well.

“We’re having a baby, Mr. Baizen.” You laughed joyfully, as he picked you up by your waist and you wrapped your legs around him. Hands found their way around his neck as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

Tears poured from his eyes, as he laughed. “I love you so, so, much, baby.” Hiding your face in his neck, you giggled some more. “God, we’re having a kid. I swear on my life, I’ll do everything to make sure you and this baby are happy for the rest of our lives.”

And he did. Not such a bad hookup after all, now was it?

[incorrectshantaequotes]

[Bolo is playing Slender while Sky watches]

Bolo: Say what you will about this game, but it's the perfect Blair Witch Project simulator: you do nothing for a long time, and then at the end you feel very disappointed and confused. And angry. And sexy!

Sky: I like that movie.

Bolo: You like stupid things.

[Sky pats Bolo on the head while smiling]

Sky: Yes I do, Bolo. Yes I do.

[transdro1ds]

I love fics where Gavin and Nines meet anywhere but the DPD, including all-human AUs. What I really need for them is some variety of meet-cute where they’re both instantly smitten but it goes something like this:

Gavin: why is he so perfect. Goddammit. Fuck. Since when are tall guys in perfectly tailored, perfectly pressed suits my type? Hahaha just kidding, that’s everyone’s type. Too bad he could never be interested in a greasy little trash monkey like me. I bet he’s married and his spouse is just like insanely preppy and perfect too, like Selma Blair in Legally Blonde or...idk...Steve Kornacki. Damn. :/

Nines: oh my god look at this devilishly sexy mouth-watering man. God, the leather jacket, the stubble, the SCARS, he’s so gorgeous it’s not even fair. He’s so cool. He could never want a nerdy repressed dorky geeky dweeb such as myself. I bet he has a girlfriend or boyfriend who’s also super cool, with like green hair and a septum piercing. Meanwhile I can’t even go to bars because I get overstimulated. Alas. Like two doomed ships that pass in storm...

Basically. I love it when two people each have such low self-esteem that they don’t notice their attraction to someone else is requited because they’re too busy telling themselves there’s no way it ever could be. Also, grown-ass adults growing as people and learning that this isn’t fucking high school and the idea of someone being “out of your league” is beyond stupid—all sorts of people like all sorts of people! (If an android, Nines gets a pass on being a little immature, because he does only have like 2 years of life experience, bless him.)

[whentheynameyoujoy]

Women in SPN—Seasons 2 and 3

Previously on Joy Obsesses over a Show That Creatively Expired in 2010

Tessa

Introduced back when the Winchesters dodging the coffin actually qualified as an episode, she follows in Meg’s tracks by continuing to make monsters seem more approachable and less a malevolent force of nature. Starts off with a completely flat affect but gets annoyed with the Winchester bullshit real quick—a sure-fire sign of an SPN character with a brain. A powerful being capable of returning one’s memories by a smooch which is… convenient. As is the fact that bad guys keep using her for their ebul plans. Serves the typical secondary-character function of a springboard for a main guy’s development. Plants hints of the “natural order”, “destiny”, and “inevitability” which will become major themes down the road and be explored by characters with deeper writing.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor, remembered primarily because she keeps popping up.

On her own: A nice addition to the lore.

Jo Harvelle

Originally Dean’s love interest until she got written out for the crime of having tits around the fandom’s husband. Driven by a wish to honor her dead father and become a hunter, she’s held back by the unfortunate fact of not being all that good at it. Cheerful, temperamental, and a pretty skilled hustler, she’s mortally wounded when charging in to protect Dean. Ends up sacrificing herself so that others can escape and attempt to end the Apocalypse.

Status: Dead as of s5, dragged back and disappeared again in s7

Importance: Major

On her own: A soldier going out in a blaze of glory. I bawl every time.

Ellen Harvelle

Unlike her daughter, very good at what she does. No-nonsense authority figure, she’s one of the few in the show to pull off a combination of a hand-wringing mama bear and a pro-active badass with a life outside her family. Not perceived as a threat because fans don’t know the meaning of MILF yet, and so is allowed to stick around for the season 2 finale. Dies to make Jo’s plan to obliterate Meg’s hellhounds work, though it’s strongly implied she mostly refuses to survive her kid.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: SPN’s Molly Weasley, sullied by the implications of her death

Lenore

A head-strong leader of a nest of vegetarian vampires, she’s deliberately contrasted with Gordon’s Terminator schtick and to a lesser degree with Dean’s black-and-white monsters vs. humans kill-everything grief-cope in order to further cement SPN’s ongoing crusade of challenging who in fact is the monster around here. Has a crowning moment of awesome when she refuses to feed while covered in Sam’s blood. The entire point of her is her determination not to give up her humanity even when no longer human. Would be shame if the show decided to later abandon this essential part of her character and twist it for cheap drama…

Status: Alive as of s5, annihilated in every way in s6

Importance: Minor in the overall narrative, major in the episode and the boys’ development

On her own: An effective mirror to Dean’s stroll down the slippery slope

Diana Ballard

TheGoodCop manipulated by her professional and romantic partner, she has a surprisingly functional tension with Sam. Luckily for Linda Blair it goes unnoticed because the fandom doesn’t view older women as competition. Noteworthy mostly because she actively participates in uncovering the episode’s mystery which automatically elevates her above the standard clueless civilian, man or woman, who needs the duo to save them. Despite fewer appearances arguably more memorable than Henriksen, precisely because of her active involvement.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor overall, a major player in the episode

On her own: Interesting take on the usual boilerplate cop

Ava Wilson

To present a very, very generous interpretation, she foreshadows Sam’s eventual turn to the dark side. Spirited, a little bit airheaded, and freaked about her Azazel-given powers, she gives enough of a damn to prevent her visions of people dying from coming true, though she clings to her intention to lead a normal civilian life. Does a complete switcheroo off-screen to become a villain because… power is awesome? Ends up the most advanced special child in season 2’s battle royale, the very concept of which is just… eh? Still gets dispatched no problem because… why not?

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor

On her own: A prime example of why the special children subplot is just…wot?

Molly McNamara

Memorable primarily because of the experimental (for SPN) narration which frames her as the duo’s partner when in fact she’s one of the things being hunted. For plot reasons spends her episode switching between being terrified, worried for her missing husband, and heartbroken. Can be somewhat tortuously argued to fit the theme of (not) overcoming grief and letting go, one of the few detectable threads in the directionless slog that’s season 2.

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor overall, major because she’s arguably the main character of her episode

On her own: Torture porny. Very torture porny.

Madison

Intelligent, educated, and with an endearing love of soaps, she’s responsible for one of the three watchable sex scenes in the entire show. Has a nice theme of personal growth and healing from trauma going on, although it’s cut short and undermined when she’s revealed as a werewolf and euthanized by none other than Sam himself. Her death is filmed as a narrative-changing tragedy before it goes on to become a joke in season 4.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: No matter how you look at it, she’s a diseased dog that needs to be put down for her own good while the menz wallow in their manly manpain. A rare example of a storyline I don’t think can be tweaked to be even marginally less awful.

I believe maestro may have wanted to portray sadness here.

Tamara

Told to be an excellent hunter, she’s shown as needing to be saved in order not to end up like her husband who’s literally forced to gargle bleach. Introduces the notion of growing hostility against the Winchesters in the hunting community. Full of wrath to fit the episode’s one-off seven deadly sins schtick, she’s emphasized as emotional and not in control of herself to such a degree that it overshadows how she’s in fact fairly competent in the second half of the episode.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor

On her own: Wouldn’t stand out this much if she weren’t one of the few POCs in the blinding whiteness that’s SPN’s Americana.

Ruby

Doesn’t have the most organic introduction (A cool intriguing sexy French fries loving not like other gurls sassy badass, with a superdooper special knife? How 2000s cringe can you get?) but quickly becomes one of the show’s most distinctive villains allies. She’s an ally. Totally. Don’t worry about it. A sarcastic smartass jerk who breathes lies and manipulation, she’s resourceful, thinks on her feet, and throws herself into the thick of action without hesitation—a trait that gets especially interesting in retrospect as it suggests a fanatic devotion to her real goal. Sadly, her motivation doesn’t get fleshed out beyond “she really likes Satan, I guess” (which, hey) as the writers prioritize the surprise of the revelation over her further character development. Has the second watchable sex scene in the entire show; the fandom weeps itself to sleep. Gets killed by her own weapon when the writers decide that a character who’s smarter than both protagonists combined could well do with a bit of the good ol’ lobotomizing.

Status: Dead

Importance: Supermegadoublemajor

On her own: The stupid nature of her demise and occasional wooden acting do their best but never overshadow the awesome that’s Ruby.

Lisa Braeden

Dean’s past fling who becomes a living symbol of his desire for the white-picket fence. Is implied to possess mad financial skills as she owns property on a yoga teacher’s salary while a single mom below the age of 30. A blank slate the likes of Cassie, she’s salvaged by better acting. Frequent frowning suggests the presence of an inner life though it doesn’t tend to manifest itself on screen or affect the plot. Her single established trait—blow-out assertiveness the moment things get too far—is exercised mostly in service to her son. Exists solely to give Dean something to pine for.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Major

On her own: A tertiary character who so-so sustains her own episode.

Bela Talbot

The best expansion of the show’s lore after the host of heaven, she’s unequivocally a bad person who nevertheless evokes huge amounts of sympathy. A cynical self-serving dealer in supernatural objects who mirrors Dean’s cracking tough guy persona, due to her abuse and the resulting trauma she refuses to open up and rely on anyone out of principle, or be indebted to them. Her pride makes her clinically unable to ask for help until it’s too late, and even forego mentioning personal history when it’d actively benefit her by softening the horrible impression others have of her. Switching between being an antagonist and the duo’s reluctant ally, she manages to outwit them roughly 90% of time. The fact that she has sexual tension with Dean while Sam lusts after her to the point of literal drooling sends fans apoplectic.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: A complex character brought down by her own flaws.

Casey

A demon, she’s torn between wanting to enact the Apocalypse and just chilling with her soulmate. Definitely a fanfic reader because her idea of dealing with danger is to shut herself with her enemy in a room and have a lengthy theological debate. Very outspoken about humanity’s propensity for evil. Outcomplexes Lilith and to a lesser extent Ruby as she’s allowed to openly address her life philosophy. While the dialogue format of her scenes is designed to give Dean space to talk about his feelings regarding his impending demise, it’s more or less an equal push-pull exchange. She’s smart, captivating, capable, and in love, i.e. things SPN just isn’t interested in keeping around.

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor in the overall narrative, major in the episode and Dean’s development

On her own: Could have been so good if allowed to stick around

Gertrude Case

A rich elderly creep whose gropy ways are played for laughs because she’s a woman I guess. Either can’t read social cues or doesn’t give a fuck about people’s obvious discomfort. But don’t worry, it’s hilarious. She’s a woman, you see. What harm have those ever done.

Status: I’m going to assume dead by now, otherwise alive as of s5

Importance: A major figure in Sam’s life since she sexually assaulted him. Otherwise minor.

On her own: Sexual harassment is fun, kids

Lucy

Take Molly McNamara, strip her of any pretence at thematic relevance, minimize her importance while playing up her suffering, and then remove her like a broken Christmas decoration while making sassy remarks—voilà, you’ve ended up with the exact simplistic image that pops into one’s head when the words Supernatural and women are mentioned in a sentence.

Status: Dead

Importance: Non-existent

On her own: Just… why

Astaroth

Approaches awesomehood as her demonic business operation is built around preying on bored suburban hausfraus and taking their souls in exchange for magical powers, which they then use to secure benign materialistic keeping-up-with-the-joneses crap and devour one another like a bunch of assholes whose death you can’t help but eagerly anticipate. Srsly, eff those ladies. Stands out as the only (implied) lesbian in the Kripke arc.

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor, not even the real monster of the week when compared to the coven

On her own: There’s probably another discussion about Doylist sexism hidden around somewhere that I’m not really interested in having. Go Astaroth.

Nancy Fitzgerald

Sugar and spice and every other cliché about kindness combined in a pretty sweet package. Plot demands her to be a virgin for some reason, even though this aspect of her character doesn’t amount to anything in the story and only serves to contrast Nancy’s… purity with Ruby who we’re being constantly told is a “slut” and a “whore” and I have no idea how that’s supposed to work. Then again, Nancy’s virginity is framed as a valid personal choice in a rather empowering moment so that’s good. Has standards because even after deciding to let go of her chastity vow, she won’t settle for just any loser who happens to stand around converting oxygen into CO2. Her “cause manpain out of nowhere”-type death is one of the few of this category in the show which actually work because the cruel pointless nature of it is precisely the point (and at least she’s not the only one who doesn’t survive, please ignore how the episode literally says her demise is the most tragic because she never got laid, barfs).

Status: Dead

Importance: Minor

On their own: A textbook definition of a cinnamon

Lilith

An overarching menace that doesn’t spend too much time on screen, she’s a prop rather than her own person. This gets highlighted the moment the show stops casting her as a clichéd creepy child who likes to larp as that Twilight Zone kid, and turns her into the standard hawt chick in a will-they-won’t-they episode. No interiority as she goes along with a plan which requires her obliteration, without at least allowing her to explore her religious motivation. Ruby does all the heavy lifting in this partnership.

Status: Dead

Importance: Major

On her own: For the life of me I can’t make sense of her actions in s4. But the clichéd creepy kid is adorbs so points for memorability.

Maggie Zeddmore

The straight man to the Ghostfacers’ utterly delightful douchefacery. Manages to keep up with Harry and Ed in terms of hilarity because not only is she exactly as out of place as them, she decides to role-play her childhood-friends-to-lovers fanfic in the middle of a haunted house as the best sister that she is.

Status: Alive as of s5

Importance: Minor

On her own: Love at first geek

Next, season 4 and 5 before I try to figure out what this all adds up to.