#the only thing stopping me is if it takes 2 hours

[eu-nicola]

not yours part 2

summary: Rafe Cameron is the perfect boyfriend… but not yours, but Sofia’s. However, fate plays against you when you become the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments. What begins as a dangerous friendship soon becomes an attraction impossible to deny.

warnings: nothing i think

word counter: 9057

author’s note: english is not my first language and how I love to use movie quotes, please please tell me if you want to be on my taglist as I'm going to make a new one

tags: @immyowndefender @xcinnamonmalfoyx @wtfdudesblog

The night had started off quiet, too quiet for your liking. You had met up with some friends at the usual club, but soon everything became monotonous. Loud music, laughter, a few interested glances from boys you didn't care about... Nothing new. You were used to standing out, to getting attention, and today you felt a latent need for something different, something that would get you out of that routine. What you didn't expect was that the night would take an unexpected turn and that you would end up running next to Rafe Cameron, with your heart beating a thousand miles an hour.

It all started with a simple misunderstanding. A group of unknown boys approached you at the bar, insisting on drinks and comments that went from flattering to annoying in a matter of minutes. At first, you tried to ignore them, but one of them didn't get the message. His hand rested on your arm with too much confidence, pulling you as if he had the right to do so.

"Let me go," you said firmly, looking him straight in the eyes.

The boy laughed, as if your words had no weight, and continued to insist. You didn't like being treated like that, as if you were just another one they could manipulate at will. You were about to let go when Rafe appeared out of nowhere, as if he had been observing the situation from afar. His mere presence changed the dynamic in an instant.

"Do you have a problem?" Rafe asked, his tone calm but full of tension, as if he was already ready for anything.

The boys looked at him, assessing him. Rafe didn't need to say much to command respect; he was the kind of person who could make someone doubt with just his gaze. But this time, the boys decided not to back down.

"It's none of your business, buddy," one of them replied, defying the calm that still remained in the atmosphere.

And then, everything exploded.

What followed was a succession of quick movements, blows and pushes. Rafe was the first to attack, with a precision that made it clear that it was not his first fight. You, though surprised, weren't far behind. You'd always had that explosive side, that energy that made you face things without thinking twice. One of the boys got too close and without hesitation, you pushed him back with more force than he expected.

Chaos broke out. The music was still playing in the background, mixing with the screams and the sound of glasses falling to the floor. Adrenaline was running through your veins. You weren't scared; you were alive, more alive than you had felt in days.

In a matter of minutes, it was all over. The boys were either on the ground or far enough away that you wouldn't try again. You and Rafe barely looked at each other, there was just an exchange of quick glances and the urgent need to disappear.

"Let's go," he said, taking your hand without waiting for an answer.

And you ran with him, leaving the club as if you were escaping a fire. Laughter began to bubble in your chest as they ran through the dark streets, away from the chaos they had left behind. Rafe, always so serious and controlled, was laughing too, that sincere laugh he rarely showed. It was contagious, and before you knew it, you were both cracking up.

“What the hell was that?” you asked between laughs, finally stopping in a dark alley where no one could see you.

Rafe leaned against the wall, still breathing heavily. His face was illuminated by the distant lights, and for a second you realized how rare it was to see him like this, so relaxed, so… human.

“What we do best, I guess,” he replied, running a hand through his messy hair. There was a spark in his eyes, an emotion that mirrored yours.

You leaned against him, breathing deeply as you tried to calm yourself. The silence between the two of you was comfortable, a pause amidst all the adrenaline.

“You know?” you finally said, turning your head to look at him. “It was fun.”

Rafe let out a soft laugh, tilting his head at you.

“Do you like getting into trouble?” he asked you with a lopsided grin.

“No more than you do,” you replied with a wink.

After a few more minutes, Rafe straightened up.

“We better get moving before someone finds us,” he said, holding out his hand to you.

You took it without hesitation, letting him lead you back to his car. The engine roared as they drove away from the place, and you, with the window open and the wind hitting your face.

A few minutes later Rafe’s car stopped in front of your house after a ride in which both of you had remained silent. But it wasn’t awkward.

“Well, here we are, princess pogue,” Rafe said with a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of your eye as he turned off the engine.

You laughed softly and turned to him, leaning your elbow on the car door. That nickname had something of a mockery to it, but it didn’t bother you. If there was one thing you had learned in all this time with him, it was that this mix of sarcasm and humor was part of his charm.

“I know. So exotic, so out of your perfect world, right?” you joked, faking an arrogant expression while you looked at your nails, as if you were the queen of the entire Outer Banks.

Rafe let out a laugh, one you had rarely heard from him, deep and sincere.

“I almost feel like I should ask you for an autograph before you enter your mansion.”

“Sure. But I would charge you… and I don’t think I would be able to afford it, Cameron.” You joked back, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Rafe shook his head. There was something about you that threw him off, took him out of that character he always wore.

“Don’t underestimate me. Maybe I’ll surprise myself and have enough to pay for your expensive autographs.” He replied with a mocking smile.

You laughed again, enjoying that lightness that was rare when you were around him. Rafe had a reputation, and you knew it better than anyone. But at times like this, he felt different, more human, closer.

“Well, we’ll see if you get lucky next time.”

You opened the car door and climbed out, the cool night air hitting your face. From the open door, you leaned into him once more.

“Thanks for saving me from those idiots. I think I could handle it though…” you said with a playful smile.

Rafe looked at you with a mix of amusement and something else, something you couldn’t quite figure out.

“Sure, but… it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back, right?” He winked at you.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” you admitted quietly.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment longer, a moment suspended in the air before he looked away and started the car again.

“See you soon.” He said before speeding off and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

You stood on the sidewalk for a second, watching the taillights of Rafe’s car fade into the distance. There was something about him, that mix of danger and calm, that made you feel alive. Something that drew you in, even when you knew you shouldn't.

With a sigh, you turned and entered your house. 

The next day, sunlight filtered timidly through the curtains of your room. You woke up early, as always. You could still feel the echo of the laughter shared with Rafe on your skin and how the emotion of the moment had left you in an almost euphoric state. But today, that emotion had to take a backseat. It was Sofia’s birthday. And that meant that your best friend needed you. 

Still between the sheets, you grabbed your phone and sent her a message:

“Happy birthday, Sof 🎉! I hope you’re ready to be the center of attention today… Although that’s not much different than any other day, right?”

Sofia’s response came almost immediately. 

“Thank you!! ❤️ I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. I don’t want anything to go wrong tonight.”

You laughed softly, imagining the mix of excitement and anxiety that was probably shining in her eyes at that moment. Sofia had always been like that, wanting everything to be perfect.

You quickly wrote a reply:

“Relax, everything will be fine. I'll come early to help you with whatever you need. You're not going to do this alone.”

“You're the best. Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you. See you in a bit! 😊”

You got out of bed, already with a clear idea in mind. The night was going to be important for Sofia, and you were going to make sure it was perfect. After all, she was your best friend, and her happiness had always been on your priority list.

You went to the bathroom, took a shower, and got ready with the same dedication as always. You liked to be impeccable, and today would be no exception. You opted for a casual but elegant look: light shorts and a tank top in a neutral tone that highlighted your tan. Your hair was loose, with soft natural waves, and a touch of makeup that highlighted your eyes.

Before you left, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything was in its place.

You grabbed your bag and walked out, walking towards the Cameron house.

When you reached the door, you couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill. There was always something about that house that gave you a mix of nerves and anticipation. You knocked softly, and before you could wait too long, the door swung open. Sofia was there, beaming, with a wide smile and an energy that seemed contagious.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, hugging you tightly. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know where to start… there are so many things to do.”

“That’s what I’m here to do, calm you down and help you organize everything.” You hugged her back just as intensely, smiling. “First, breathe. Everything’s going to be okay. Today is your day, and you have to enjoy it.”

“I’ll try,” Sofia replied, giggling nervously as she led you inside. “But you know how I am.” If something goes wrong…

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” you interrupted her firmly. “Trust me. Now tell me, where do we start?”

Sofia led you to the kitchen, where there was an endless list of things to do: decorations, food, everything needed for a party that promised to be the event of the month.

When they finally finished, the sun was beginning to set behind the horizon. The house was impeccable and elegantly decorated. Sofia had taken care of every detail: lights were strategically hung to create a warm and luxurious atmosphere, while gold and silver tones dominated the place, reflecting the theme of the night. The atmosphere promised to be spectacular.

Sofia and you went up to her room together to get ready.

“I can’t believe everything is ready,” Sofia said as she opened the door to her closet. “I thought we would never make it.”

“See? I told you everything would turn out well,” you replied with a smile. “Now comes the best part: getting amazing.”

Sofia pulled out a long, silver-colored dress, fitted to her figure, with rhinestone details that captured the light in a mesmerizing way. While she changed, you approached your own selection of clothes that you had brought with you.

You chose a simple but elegant gold dress with thin straps that left your shoulders and back bare. It wasn’t the most impressive dress you’d ever worn, but for the occasion it was more than enough. You slid it smoothly down your body, adjusting it in place, and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think?” you asked, turning slightly to see your reflection.

Sofia, now in her silver dress, looked at you with a smile.

“You look beautiful, as always. That gold is perfect for you.”

You smiled, accepting the compliment, although deep down you still thought you could have chosen something more dazzling.

You sat in front of the mirror to fix your hair. You opted for soft, natural waves, which fell gracefully over your shoulders. You didn’t want anything too elaborate; just something that would complement the dress and enhance your face.

The makeup was simple but effective: a subtle eyeliner that highlighted your eyes, a touch of gold shadow to highlight the theme of the night, and lips in a nude tone that kept the look elegant but discreet. You made sure every detail was in place before standing up and putting the finishing touches on a pair of small, delicate earrings.

“Ready,” you said, turning to Sofia.

She looked at you with pride and excitement.

“We look amazing. Tonight is going to be perfect, I’m sorry.”

“Of course it will be,” you assured her as you both walked down the stairs. “Everything is ready, and you look spectacular. This is your night, Sof.”

The house was already beginning to fill with guests arriving one after another, dressed in matching gold and silver tones. Music floated through the air, and the lights danced softly, reflecting the luxury and exclusivity Sofia had wanted for her birthday.

As you watched everything unfold, a part of you felt calm. They had worked hard, and now it was time to enjoy.

The party was going on with a calm and elegant atmosphere. Guests moved between the decorated rooms, chatting, laughing, toasting Sofia. There was an enveloping calm that you liked; you felt comfortable, but there was also something in the air, a feeling that something could change at any moment.

You decided to take a walk around the mansion, observing the people, their gestures, their glances. You moved gracefully, with a drink in your hand, enjoying the atmosphere and that subtle feeling of being part of something special.

That was when you saw it.

Rafe was leaning against one of the walls, observing the crowd with an indecipherable expression. He didn't seem lost or bored, just... attentive. As if every movement around him had a meaning that only he could decipher.

You slowly approached him, until you were next to him.

"How was the party?" you asked him with a smile, breaking the silence between you.

Rafe turned his face slightly towards you. His blue eyes met yours for a moment, intense but calm.

"I'm enjoying myself," he replied, with that calm and confident tone, as if nothing in the world could alter it.

You nodded, and the smile remained on your face.

"Me too," you said. Silence settled between you two again, but it wasn't uncomfortable, it was as if words weren't necessary for a moment. It was just the two of you, amidst the distant murmur of the party.

Suddenly, you felt his gaze.

It wasn't a casual look. It was a lingering look, as if every detail of your face captured his attention. His eyes scanned every line, every shadow, every expression. It was an intense look, but not uncomfortable, almost as if he were in a daze, lost in that moment. There was no judgment or coldness, just something you couldn't quite define.

You noticed it. You felt it. But, to your surprise, it didn't make you nervous.

You didn't know how to feel about it. There was something intriguing about being watched like that, something that made you wonder what exactly he saw. So, almost without thinking, you looked at him too.

Your eyes searched for his. And for an instant that seemed eternal, they met. Two gazes that held each other, that understood each other without words, that explored something beyond the obvious. There was no noise around them. There was no one else at that moment.

Finally, they both separated their gazes, as if something invisible had reminded them that the world kept turning.

“Behind every beautiful thing, there is some kind of pain,” you said quietly, almost like a thought out loud.

Rafe looked at you again, this time with a slight glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He nodded slowly, as if those words resonated with something he himself understood, something he carried within.

There was nothing else to say at that moment. You gently stepped away, leaving the glass on a nearby table.

“I’m going to walk a little,” you told him, and he simply watched you as you walked away.

The fresh air greeted you as you stepped out into the garden. Each step took you away from the hustle and bustle of the party, but not from the feeling Rafe had left in you.

You walked slowly along the well-kept paths, surrounded by soft lights hanging from the trees, illuminating the path with a calm warmth. The sky was clear, and the stars twinkled softly, as if they were watching you too. You felt good, at peace, enjoying that moment of solitude, getting away from everything for a moment.

But you weren't alone for long.

You heard footsteps behind you, soft but firm. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. There was something unmistakable about Rafe's presence. A confident, calm air, but charged with something more, something that always seemed to throb beneath the surface.

He stood beside you without saying a word. There was no need to explain why he was there, or to ask him why he had decided to accompany you. He just did it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

They walked together, in silence. Neither of them felt the urge to fill the space with words. The night was enough. The soft sounds of the wind through the leaves, the crunch of gravel under their feet, and the occasional whisper of the breeze were enough company.

Rafe had his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but his eyes observed everything around him with that characteristic attention, as if every detail was important. Every now and then, his eyes would drift to you, though he didn't say anything.

There was something surprisingly comfortable about that shared silence. You didn't feel compelled to speak, to explain anything, to pretend anything. Rafe seemed to understand that, and you understood it too.

They walked along a path that bordered the garden, passing by a small pond where the reflection of the golden lights from the party sparkled in the water. You stopped for a moment, watching as the soft waves distorted the lights, creating dancing patterns. Rafe stopped beside you, watching the same thing.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you finally commented, breaking the silence, but with a soft voice, as if you didn’t want to disturb the calm of that moment.

Rafe nodded, a smile almost imperceptible on his face.

“Yes, it is.”

The silence returned, but this time it was different. It was a silence filled with understanding, with something that didn’t need to be said out loud. Both of you continued walking, slowly advancing through the garden.

At some point, his steps aligned perfectly with yours, as if walking together was something you had always done. There was no rush. You were just there, enjoying the night, the calm.

The silence continued between you, but at that moment, you felt it was time to go back, to get back to reality. You looked at Rafe, who was still walking beside you, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

“I think I should head back to the party,” you said, keeping your voice light, but with a small smile, “They’re going to miss you. I’ll come back later.”

Rafe looked at you then, a glint of understanding in his eyes. He didn’t seem upset, rather, it seemed like he had been waiting for you to say it. He nodded slightly and, without losing his calm, glanced up at the starry sky.

“You’re right.” His tone was relaxed, but there was a spark in his eyes that made it clear that you didn’t care much about the party or the others.

You both stopped in front of the garden entrance, as if you somehow knew that the walk had come to an end. The party continued in the distance, laughter and conversations floating in the air.

“I’ll see you later then,” Rafe said with a slight smile.

He took a step back, giving you room to turn around and head back into the hustle and bustle of the party.

With a small wave of his hand, you began to walk back.

“See you later,” you said as you walked away, still staring at him for a moment, knowing that even though you were physically walking away, somehow, the words that weren’t said between you would still be floating in the air. 

Rafe stood there, watching you go, before turning around again and heading back to the party. 

After you both returned to the party, the atmosphere had changed slightly. The music was still playing, but something in the air seemed lighter. People were gathered around the center table, where Sofia was at the front, surrounded by her friends, family, and loved ones. They were all waiting for the moment when she would blow out the candles, the perfect ending to their celebration. 

The table was adorned with gold and silver details, like the theme of the party, and in the center, a large three-tiered cake dominated the stage. The candles glowed softly, with the light dancing over the smiling faces of everyone present. Sofia looked radiant, her dress shining under the lights of the room, and her eyes reflected a mix of excitement and gratitude.

Rafe approached you, a glass in his hand, and offered it to you with a discreet smile. It was clear that the tension between the two of you had not completely dissipated, but at that moment, everything seemed simpler, lighter. He raised his glass in your direction, waiting for you to toast with it.

“To Sofia,” he said in a soft tone, looking towards the table, where Sofia was already ready to blow out the candles.

You raised your glass as well, nodding with a smile. “To Sofia,” you repeated, feeling that the night, despite everything, had something special, something you couldn’t describe, but you knew deep down. You both toasted, clinking glasses with a small sound that resonated in the air.

Sofia, with her gaze full of hope, closed her eyes and blew out the candles. At that moment, everyone present kept a brief silence, waiting for her to make her wish. The bated breath in the room felt like a bubble about to burst, and then, as if everything had been calculated, Sofia opened her eyes and smiled.

“Thank you all for being here,” she said, her voice warm and full of emotion, looking at everyone present. “Thank you for this very special day.”

Applause filled the room, and the music took control of the night again, as people began to laugh and enjoy themselves again. Rafe, for his part, gave you one last look before diverting his attention to his group of friends.

The night continued, filled with laughter and toasts.

The next day, the sun shone brightly on the mansion and the atmosphere remained relaxed, almost as if the party the day before had been just a distant dream. The pool sparkled invitingly under the midday heat, the clear water reflecting the clear sky. You had already begun to enjoy the day, swimming and letting yourself be carried away by the calm of the place. The water surrounded you, cool and refreshing, as you swam back and forth, enjoying the peace of those solitary moments.

Rafe and Sofia were in the lounger area, almost ignoring you in their own world.

After a while, you decided to get out of the water. You laid down on one of the lounge chairs, feeling the sun on your skin. But soon, bored of just sitting there doing nothing, you got up and headed over to the pool table. You grabbed a cue and, in order to distract yourself, decided to play a little, not really interested in winning, just to pass the time.

It wasn't long before Rafe approached you, watching with a slight smile on his face.

"Do you dare to play a game?" he asked, also taking a cue and adjusting his shirt a little.

Sofia, from her spot by the pool, watched the two of you, somewhat distant, but not enough to not notice how you interacted. It could have been her curious look, or perhaps the way her body was slightly tense, but at that moment, something seemed different.

The game started with laughter and small jokes between you and Rafe. He, always a bit of a tease, would try to tease you with some comment or make you lose focus, but all in good spirits. You realized that, at that moment, there was no pressure. There was no tension, just the sound of the cue hitting the balls, the laughter and the words that intertwined naturally.

Meanwhile, Sofia stood there, watching in silence.

Rafe, more focused on the game than anything else, made a couple of jokes to you while he won it, but you weren't intimidated. You laughed, both at his attitude and at the little tricks he tried, although without being really competitive, which kept the atmosphere light.

At one point, your cue missed on a crucial shot and Rafe couldn't help but laugh.

"That's the best you've got?" he said, taking his turn to give it the final blow.

Finally, after a few rounds, the match ended and Rafe emerged victorious, albeit with a slight hint of irony, as he knew you had let him win a couple of times just to not make the moment too tense.

Sofia approached, as if she had been waiting for them to finish so she could resume the chat between the three of you.

The day progressed slowly, the sun shining brightly on the pool and the gardens of the mansion. The air was getting warmer and warmer, the atmosphere relaxed with soft music in the background. Sofia and you had laughed together, enjoying the little jokes.

As the sun began to set, dyeing the sky orange and pink hues, Sofia received a call. Her face changed slightly as she looked at her phone, and after a few seconds of conversation, she told you that she had to leave, that her family needed her.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked, without thinking too much about what you were saying. An impulse, a need to not let her go alone.

But Sofia looked at you with a smile, her voice soft but firm.

“It’s not necessary. Stay here, enjoy the day,” she replied with a calm that almost surprised you.

So, without being able to do much else, you watched her leave, watching her walk away down the path that led to the entrance of the mansion. You stood there, watching the sunset for a long moment. Something in the air, in the stillness of the place, made you feel uncomfortable, as if everything was about to change. The house suddenly seemed empty, and the sound of your own footsteps echoed in the silence that settled around it.

With the intention of not staying there thinking about what you didn’t want to think about, you decided to go out to the backyard, looking for a distraction. Maybe just a little fresh air would help you calm the anxiety that was beginning to grow inside you.

The patio was quiet, with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze and the soft murmur of the pool water, but the quiet only served to make you feel even more nervous. You walked a little further, approaching the trees and shadows of the garden, trying to escape a situation that made you feel uncomfortable.

It was then that you heard his footsteps. Rafe, who had not left you alone all day, appeared behind you, his elongated figure projecting over the grass. At first you didn't say anything, as if the silence between the two of you was some kind of invisible wall that you didn't even want to touch.

"Are you going to stay here alone?" Rafe asked, his voice soft, but with something in it that made you turn to look at him. He didn't seem to notice the tension in the air, or maybe he felt it too, but didn't know how to handle it.

And it was at that moment, when his eyes met yours, that everything became more intense. A simple exchange of glances turned into something deeper, something that both of you seemed to understand without the need for words. He was close, close enough for you to feel his presence. His gaze, once calm, now seemed charged with something else. You couldn't say exactly what it was, but it was there, like an invisible current that silently united you.

You both stood there, as if suspended in time, not knowing whether to move forward or back. You wanted to break that silence, but the truth was that you didn't know how. The fact that he was so close, his soft breathing, his gaze fixed on you, made everything much more complicated.

Rafe took a step towards you, without saying a word, as if he was looking for something in your expression, something that would make you give in. Your body reacted before your mind could process it, taking a step back, but not really moving away from him. It was as if gravity had brought them together in that instant, an invisible force pulling them both to the same place. The tension was palpable, like a thin thread that tightened with every millimeter of space they shared. 

You felt trapped in the moment, as if your thoughts were caught between the need to flee and the need to stay there. And although you didn't want to admit it, you were attracted to him, and that terrified you. Something about his closeness, his presence, made you feel vulnerable, but at the same time, something in you wanted him not to move away. 

Rafe, it seemed, felt it too. He stared at you a little longer, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move, or as if he was undecided between saying something or simply remaining suspended in the air in that moment. Finally, it was he who broke the silence with a slight smile, a smile that, although it seemed relaxed, hid something deeper, something you knew you couldn't decipher. 

“I don't know what we're doing here.” he said quietly, as if he didn't want to break the spell that had fallen between the two of you.

You looked at each other, unable to formulate a response, and in that instant, the gap between the two of you closed. Without saying another word, you turned around and began to walk, breaking that moment of tension, knowing that what you felt was not something you could control or explain. But, at the same time, you couldn't deny that a part of you didn't want that moment to end.

The courtyard no longer seemed so welcoming, and you no longer knew whether to leave, stay, or face it. But something told you that tonight, things would not be the same as before.

The night was passing slowly, silence enveloping the atmosphere. Sofia had not yet returned, and although you had tried not to think about it, there was something in you that already predicted that things would change. You did not know exactly how or why, but you felt a pressure in the air.

Hours passed while you waited for her return, but when you finally received her message, you knew that everything had fallen apart. “I will not return tonight. I have things to resolve.” The words floated before your eyes, and something inside you tightened. You knew that the situation was becoming more complicated, and at the same time, you felt a strange mix of relief and nervousness. You were left alone, not knowing what to do, with that feeling that everything you had been avoiding was finally going to happen.

You looked at Rafe, who had been silent in some corner of the house. He seemed so oblivious to what was going through your mind, but there was also something in his presence that attracted you, something you could no longer ignore.

“Sofia won’t be back tonight,” you said, trying to sound calm, but your voice was shaking a little. “I think I’ll go.”

Rafe looked at you with a slightly crooked smile, as if he had been waiting for that answer. The sparkle in his eyes, the slight glint of amusement in his expression, made you hesitate for a moment.

“Don’t you want to go out for a while?”

His invitation was like a temptation, a soft voice that made you reconsider. It was hard to resist the idea of ​​escaping from everything, of leaving behind the tension that was building in the air, of feeling a small spark of freedom, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

You, knowing it wasn’t the right thing to do, hesitated for a moment. How wrong could it be? After all, you weren’t doing anything “serious,” you were just a couple of friends, right? The answer seemed more like an excuse than a justification, but still, something inside you pushed you to say:

“That doesn’t sound bad.”

Rafe smiled immediately, and the way his eyes sparkled made your heart beat a little faster, but you forced yourself to calm down. You didn't know if you were fooling yourself, but the night was young, and the world seemed more accessible at the moment.

The two of you walked outside, the city streets deserted and quiet under the starry sky. The moonlight illuminated everything softly, and for some reason, that silence was comforting. The escape you were looking for surrounded you, and with each step, the tension in the air faded, although you knew that, deep down, there was no escape from what was really happening between the two of you.

You didn't talk much as you walked, but the company was enough. The sound of your footsteps and their calm breathing were the only things you could hear, and yet, there was a silent burden, something you both tried to ignore, but it was there, palpable in the air. Something in their gazes, something in their closeness.

As time went on, aimlessly, they began to laugh, to chat about trivial things, as if trying not to think about the obvious would help them relax. You realized that, for a moment, everything seemed easier.

It was when the first lights of dawn began to touch the horizon, that something in the atmosphere became almost palpable, a touch, a spark. They both found themselves standing close, too close to each other, as if an invisible force attracted them in a way that neither could deny.

You could hear their breathing, ragged, almost synchronized, as if at that moment nothing else existed in the world but the two of them. They were so close that you could feel their warmth, their presence, and that small line between what was right and what was not blurred.

You felt unable to move, as if everything you had been thinking about, everything you had wanted to avoid, was about to break. The urge to reach out to him, to follow the desire that was growing between you two, was stronger than ever. But something inside you made you stop. A clear thought, a reminder of what really mattered to you.

“This is wrong, Rafe,” you said in a shaky but firm voice as you took a step back, looking out at the horizon. “We should stay friends. I don’t want to complicate things. It’s not what we need.”

Silence settled between the two of you, and he stared at you. His eyes, which had previously been bright with amusement, now held something else, something like a mix of understanding and perhaps a bit of disappointment.

“Are we friends?” he asked, almost with a sad smile, as if he wasn’t sure of the answer.

You stayed silent for a moment, searching for the answer in your own feelings. Finally, you decided to give the answer that, at that moment, seemed the most sensible.

“I guess so,” you said, a sigh escaping your lips.

Rafe nodded slowly, as if he finally understood something he had been searching for in you.

“That’s good to know,” he murmured, and for a moment, everything between you seemed to calm down.

But, you knew everything had changed. You couldn’t just go back to how things were before. Without another word, you turned around, feeling the weight of the goodbye, but unable to help it.

“I’m leaving alone,” you said, without looking back.

Rafe didn’t say anything, although hesitation could be seen in his eyes. He didn’t want to let you go, but deep down he knew he couldn’t keep insisting. For some reason, in the end, he didn't say anything, he just watched as you walked away. 

You returned to your house, the cold morning air caressing your skin, and although you felt like something had changed between you and him, you also knew that, somehow, you had made the right decision. Although, deep down, you wondered if it really was. 

After what happened that night with Rafe, something inside you changed. An invisible barrier rose, separating you from him and, consequently, from Sofia as well. The awkwardness that was once just a spark had now become a smoldering fire, burning inside you every time you thought about him, about how close you were, about how you almost crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed. 

You decided that the best thing to do was to walk away. Guilt weighed on you like a burden you couldn't let go of, and although you wanted to pretend that everything was okay, your conscience wouldn't let you rest. You made up excuses not to see them. When Sofia invited you out, to the beach, the pool, or any other gathering, you always had something else to do.

—Sorry, I have to study.

—I can't, I feel a little bad today.

—I have to help my mom with something.

The excuses piled up, one after another, until Sofia started to notice. At first, she believed you. She was your friend, she trusted you. But after several weeks of evasions, her messages started to sound different, more insistent, almost worried.

—Are you okay? We haven't seen you lately.

—Strange that you don't want to come... we miss you.

—Are you avoiding something?

You responded evasively, trying not to raise suspicions, but you knew that Sofia wasn't stupid. However, you preferred to deal with her concern rather than face what was really tormenting you: Rafe.

He, on the other hand, seemed unchanging. There was no change in his behavior, at least not visible. He didn't seem to feel the same discomfort or guilt that haunted you. He would send you messages from time to time, casual, as if nothing had happened between you.

—Are you going to the party tonight?

—Are you okay? I haven't seen you lately.

—Sofia asked about you, I told her you're probably busy.

Sometimes you read his messages and ignored them. You didn't want to fall into that dynamic of responding, of pretending everything was normal. But other times, the temptation was stronger, and you responded, although coldly, without giving rise to anything else.

—I'm fine.

—I don't think I'm going.

—Thanks for letting me know.

Each word of yours was measured, each message carefully worded to not lead to a deeper conversation. But Rafe didn't seem affected. He didn't chase you, he didn't insist, and that made you even angrier.

How could he be so calm after all? How could he act like nothing had happened while you were drowning in guilt? What hurt you most was that, deep down, you knew that was his nature. Rafe Cameron didn't feel remorse. He never had. He was always like that: cold, calculating, and seemingly incapable of feeling guilt.

And that made you even angrier. Because how could you be angry at him for being exactly the way he always was? There was a reason he always looked down on you, there was a reason he always looked at you with that mix of arrogance and disdain. Because to him, nothing really mattered. He wasn't afraid to cross boundaries, because to Rafe, boundaries were just an abstract concept that he could ignore when it suited him. 

You felt caught in a contradiction. You hated him for not feeling anything, but at the same time, a part of you envied that indifference. Because while you carried the weight of what could have happened, he kept going, as if you were just another person in his life. 

There were days when you wanted to confront him, ask him directly why he didn't feel the same as you, why he didn't seem affected. But the fear of facing his indifference stopped you. Because you knew that if you did, his answer would be cold, sharp, and maybe make you feel worse. 

And so, the weeks kept passing. You avoided any place where you might run into him. If you knew Sofia and Rafe were going to be at a party, you just didn’t go. If you heard his name in conversation, you walked away before they could talk about him anymore. Even on social media, you avoided looking at anything that might remind you of that night, that closeness, that moment you almost crossed paths.

But despite all your efforts, Rafe was still there, in the back of your mind. He was like a shadow you couldn’t erase, a presence that followed you, even when he wasn’t around.

One afternoon, as you were checking your phone, a new message from him popped up on your screen. You stared at it for a moment, hesitating to open it. Just seeing it made your heart beat faster, a mix of anxiety and something you didn’t want to admit.

—You’re really quiet lately. Everything okay?

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to decide whether to respond or not. You knew a part of you wanted to, wanted to keep that connection, even if it was minimal. But you also knew that every message, every interaction, only made things more complicated.

Finally, you left the message unanswered, turned off your phone, and sighed. The conflict was still there, inside you, a battle between desire and reason, between what you felt for Rafe and what you knew was right. And all the while, he was still Rafe: untouchable, indifferent, and always one step ahead.

You had built up a routine of avoidance: excuses for not going out, cold and calculated messages, avoiding meetings where you knew he would be. You had decided that the best thing for you was to keep your distance and protect both your heart and your friendship with Sofia. You didn't want to be "the other." You didn't want to be the reason everything fell apart.

But Rafe seemed to have other plans.

He kept looking for you. His messages became more frequent, his gazes more intense every time you met by chance. And when you avoided him, he found a way to close the distance, to make you feel his presence, as if he knew exactly which buttons to push to make you doubt your decisions.

One afternoon, while you were at a local café, enjoying a moment alone, you saw his figure approaching. Tall, self-assured, with that look that always seemed to carry a dangerous mix of arrogance and attraction. There was no escape this time.

“Can I sit down?” Rafe asked, even though he was already dragging the chair in front of you.

You sighed, trying to keep your composure.

“Sure, but I don’t stay long,” you replied nonchalantly.

He smiled, as if he perfectly understood the game you were playing. He knew you were trying to keep him at bay, and it seemed to amuse him more than it put him off.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table and staring at you.

“No. Why would I?” you replied, avoiding his eyes as you stirred your coffee.

His gaze burned into you. It was as if he could see right through you, piercing through every one of your carefully raised defenses. You knew you shouldn’t fall for his game, but with every passing second you felt your self-control slowly crumble.

“I don’t know… I barely see you lately. Sofia notices it too.” His tone was casual, but there was something else there, a hidden insinuation.

“I’ve been busy,” you said, shrugging.

The silence stretched on, and when you finally looked up, you found him watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was something in his eyes, a mix of desire, frustration, and… defiance. Like he was waiting for you to be the one to break that barrier.

“You should focus on Sofia,” you murmured, diverting the conversation back to where you wanted to take it. “She’s the one who matters.”

Rafe leaned a little closer to you, closing the distance.

“What if it’s not just Sofia?” he whispered.

Your hands tightened around the cup. That line, that edge you’d both been skirting since that night, was dangerously close again. And the worst part of it all was that, even though you knew you should walk away, part of you wanted to know what would happen if you didn’t.

“We can’t, Rafe. I don’t want to be “the other.” I’m not going to ruin what I have with Sofia for… this. “Your voice was firm, but there was a barely perceptible tremor in your words.

He was silent for a moment, studying every expression on your face. He didn’t seem upset or disappointed. On the contrary, he seemed intrigued, as if your words were a challenge rather than a refusal.

“For this?” he repeated with a half smile.

“For whatever this is,” you clarified, trying to sound confident.

Rafe sighed, but didn’t move away. On the contrary, he rested a hand on the table, almost brushing yours, so close that you could feel the warmth of his skin.

“What if it’s not what you think?” he asked quietly. “What if we can handle it without ruining anything?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overflow. You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he could control himself, that you could keep everything in order, but you knew that things were never that simple.

“I can’t risk it,” you said at last, pulling your hand away and breaking contact. “I don’t want to lose her. Or myself.”

Rafe nodded slowly, but his eyes were still fixed on you. There was something in his gaze that wouldn’t go away: desire mixed with stubbornness. Like this was just a chapter in a story he was determined to continue.

“Okay,” he murmured, getting up from his chair. “But you can’t walk away forever.”

You stayed silent as he left, leaving an air heavy with tension and a racing heartbeat in your chest. You knew he was right. You couldn’t walk away forever. But for now, you promised yourself that you would keep trying, because if you got close again, you knew that this time you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

That same day, you returned home with your heart tangled in a tangle of emotions. The tension you had been avoiding was no longer something you could ignore. You felt the need to talk to someone, to find clarity in the midst of the chaos that had broken out in your mind. However, you chose to lock yourself in your room, hoping that the silence of the night would give you the answers you were looking for.

But your mother didn't let you isolate yourself for long.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly from the door, peeking in with a curious, motherly look. She had noticed your behavior in the last few days. The constant excuses, the long sighs, the nights when you seemed to be in another world.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m just tired,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you settled into bed.

She wasn’t fooled. She walked into your room, closed the door behind her, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes, full of wisdom and tenderness, looked at you with that mix of understanding and concern that only a mother could have.

“Honey, I know you too well. Something’s going on. Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed. You knew she wasn’t going to give up, and somehow that comforted you. You took a moment before answering.

“It’s complicated, Mom. I don’t know how to explain it without it sounding… bad.” You looked down, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

She waited patiently, giving you the time you needed. When you finally raised your head, you found in her gaze an invitation to vent.

“There’s someone…” you began, choosing your words carefully. “Someone I shouldn’t be with. He’s a friend’s boyfriend, and… I don’t know how it happened, but everything is a mess now. I try to get away, but it seems like the more I try, the harder it gets. It’s like he doesn’t want to let me go.”

Your mother nodded slowly, processing each word. She didn’t interrupt you, she just let you talk.

“I know it’s wrong, and I feel guilty, but at the same time… there’s something about him that I can’t ignore. It’s like there’s something between us that shouldn’t be there, but I can’t help it either.”

Your mother looked at you with an expression that was a mix of empathy and nostalgia. “I understand more than you think,” she said with a soft smile. “I went through something similar when I was young.”

You were shocked. “You? Really?” you asked, incredulous. You had never imagined your mother in a similar situation.

She nodded, settling herself better on the bed. There was a sparkle in her eyes, as if she was remembering a fragment of her own youth.

“Yes, before I met your father, there was someone… someone who made me feel alive, who shook my world in ways I had never experienced. He was charming, ambitious, and yes, he had a lot of money.” She laughed softly. “But he wasn’t the person I was supposed to be with. It was all intense, but not always intense is the best for you.”

You looked at her curiously, as if you were seeing a side of her you had never known.

“And what happened?” you asked, intrigued.

She sighed, as if the memory took her back to those days. “In the end, I realized I couldn’t live in that whirlwind. There was a lot of fire, but not enough to build something lasting. And then your father came along. He was different. Calmer, more stable… but real. And I realized that was what I needed.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “So you had a rich boyfriend too, that you left for love?.” you joked, trying to lighten the conversation.

Your mother laughed, the warm sound filling the room. “It seems like it’s a tradition, doesn’t it?” she replied humorously. “But money isn’t everything, honey. Love is a crazy thing. Sometimes it takes you down paths you don’t expect, and other times it makes you see that what you really need is right in front of you, even if it’s not what you had imagined.”

You stayed silent, reflecting on her words. It was strange to think of your mother going through something similar, but it also made you feel less alone. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had felt that confusion, that forbidden attraction that seemed to have no way out.

“So what do I do?” you finally asked, seeking advice.

She looked at you tenderly and stroked your hair. “Do what you feel is right for you. Don’t punish yourself for feeling, but don’t lose yourself in something that could hurt you either. Sometimes walking away is the hardest thing, but also the most necessary thing.

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight on your chest lighten for a moment at least. Maybe, given time, you could find your own path, one that didn’t leave you trapped between what you wanted and what was right.

[littlelamy]

Rafe taking care of Reader who goes through a depressive episode. She’s feeling like she is a burden and feels like everyone would be happier with her gone. Maybe things are pretty new between them, only gone on a few dates so she obviously (like most) isn’t going to tell him anything and doesn’t think she matters to a guy she has gone on a few dates with anyway, so she just stops responding to his texts

a/n: thank you for requesting!⭐️ i hope i wrote it appropriately to what you requested 🙂💗part 2 is up!

the first time rafe noticed something was off, it was subtle—just a missed text here and there. maybe a delayed reply. nothing unusual at first. he probably told himself you were busy. everyone has those days where life gets hectic.

but when hours stretched into days and your replies went from short to nonexistent, he started to feel that quiet pull of worry.

“hey, you okay?” he texted the day before, after his third unanswered message.

you saw it pop up on your screen. his name glowed against the darkness of your room, and for a moment, your heart ached with the idea of answering. but then the thought crept in.

he’s just being polite. he barely knows you. he’s probably relieved you stopped answering anyway.

so you let the screen go dark.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. it wasn’t like you two were serious. you’d only gone on a handful of dates, and even though every moment with rafe had been sweet and effortless, there was no way someone like him could actually care.

you’d been wrong about people before.

the weight in your chest had only grown heavier over the past few weeks. even getting out of bed felt impossible some days, let alone pretending to be okay for someone like rafe cameron. so, you didn’t bother. you shut your phone off, buried it under a pillow, and let the world fade into static.

the knock at your door startled you.

at first, you thought it might’ve been a neighbor or a delivery driver, someone just passing through. but then it came again, louder this time, more deliberate.

“y/n?”

you froze, your breath catching as his voice carried through the door.

“it’s rafe.”

you stared at the door like it might open on its own. the last thing you wanted was to face him, especially like this. but hearing his voice made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“i, uh…” he hesitated, the sound of him shifting his weight audible through the thin walls. “i just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

you stayed silent, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. but deep down, you knew rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to just walk away.

“you don’t have to let me in,” he added, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “just… let me know you’re alright.”

you clenched your fists, trying to will the lump in your throat away. how were you supposed to explain that you weren’t alright? that you hadn’t been alright in weeks?

the knock came again, gentler this time.

“i’m not leaving until i know you’re okay,” he said firmly, though there was no anger in his voice. only concern.

you sat frozen for what felt like forever, listening to the silence on the other side of the door. maybe he’d given up. maybe he was walking away right now, realizing this wasn’t worth his time.

but then your phone buzzed from where it lay buried under the pillow.

you hesitated before reaching for it, your hands trembling as you unlocked the screen.

rafe <3: hey, i’m outside your place. not trying to bother you, i just wanted to check in. if you need space, i get it. just let me know you’re alright, okay?

your chest ached as you read the words. there was nothing demanding about them, nothing that made you feel guilty or trapped. he wasn’t asking for anything except to know you were safe.

and that made it worse somehow.

because you weren’t.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[al-norton]

Yesterday I was hanging out with a couple of friends on discord - one of them from my city, one of them from a little village in the north of Ukraine. We're talking about dnd, because meeting for a game 3 times a week is not enough for us, apparently. At some point one of my friends interrupts the conversation with a little remark - "damn, the shooting is louder then usual today'. I suggest "cellar time" for his safety. We laugh. All 3 of us joke about how none of us have appropriate shelter nearby and how annoying it is when the sirens start blasting as you're walking your dog. Conversation moves on.

Some 10 minutes later the same friend interrupts the conversation again, audibly startled. "Fuck, guys, I gotta go" - and mutes himself.

That is harder to ignore. We stay silent for a minute.

Still, he is muted and not out - so his house probably isn't blown up. He took the time to warn us, so he personally is probably fine. And we know that discord does pick up the sound of explosion if it's happening close enough, and we haven't heard anything, so his immediate family is probably safe.

Further than that, there's no use to speculate. We won't know until - if - he comes back.

Slowly, we pick the conversation back up.

He comes back some 15 minutes later: "Guys, our hayloft is on fire". "How on fire?" - I ask. "Fully on fire". The cracking of the wood was loud enough to mistake it for the shooting, so it took awhile to notice anything out of the ordinary.

It's no big deal, apparently - no one was in the hayloft, not even the cat that likes to sleep there. The firefighters arrived 20 minutes later and even managed to save some of the hay. We chatted about dnd and the first season of arcane for 2 more hours.

It's a fun story, a cute one, even. But it takes it's place among others: the fact that every time I go to a bus stop I have to walk by my school currently constructing an underground facility so children don't have to stop classes with every air raid alarm that goes off. The fact that I celebrated my joint birthday with my uncle in candle light because of another attack on our power system. The fact that every explosion that i can faintly hear on discord as I talk to my friends, or that shakes the ground as I do groceries, or wakes me up at 2 am - carries real people with it being killed and injured. The fact that hearing the sound of shooting is enough for us to assume that "things are normal".

The normalcy of war is a terrifying and infectious thing - even for us, people living under under occupation and constant attacks. I can imagine it only gets worse as you get farther from the action. As we slowly approach the end of the 3rd year of this war going on, please, don't let yourself believe this is okay.

If you're able to, advocate with your officials for more help being sent to Ukraine. Donate to Come Back Alive, if you're able to. If you're able to, enjoy the peace.

[revelboo]

RAHHHHH the rammatra fic outta nowhere had me going ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

(Tbh I think he and genji were my gateway drug to robots)

Absolutely scrumptious as always

Anti-Gravity Pt 2

Ramattra x Reader

• Ankle screaming when you put weight on it, you use the length of rebar like a cane to pick your way closer to the pinned Omnic. He still has one good arm, so you’ll need to be quick. Drive that rebar deep as you can, through that baleful optic and out the other side. Omnic aren’t people, they’re not alive, just a clever impersonation of it. Except. You remember months ago, getting caught on the outskirts of a mob running down a lone Omnic. Watching them pull it to the ground, but doing nothing to stop them. It wasn’t your problem, you just wanted to go home. But it hadn’t begged or pleaded with its attackers. All it had said while it still could speak was that it was ‘seen in the light of the Iris.’ Like it believed it was more than just a machine. Raising the rebar, you stare down at it. Him, Ramattra. A machine. Just a machine.

• Servos curling in a fist, he tiredly watches the human poised to attack him. One side of your face smeared with blood from a sluggishly bleeding wound at your temple. Baring your teeth at him, rocking forward, but faltering. And your hands are shaking as you make to lunge and then stop yourself again. Finally meeting his optics. “You’re a monster,”you tell him, voice tired as you slump down on a pile of rubble nearby. Above the two of you something shifts and dirt patters down. He understands that hate in your eyes, but your mercy takes him by surprise. “You deserve to die,” you add, voice angry now. At him or yourself?

• “If I’m a monster, it’s because your kind gave me no choice,” that low, digitized voice growls as he tries to drag himself more upright before giving up. Head tipping back to stare at the rubble above them and you follow his stare even as his words whisper through you. Make you think of that Omnic dying for no reason at all, torn apart by that mob. What had it even done? Just been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Dared to exist?

• Growling softly, he knows that if they start messing with the debris above, it’s likely to come down and your mercy will mean very little when you’re both crushed. “There’s always a choice,” you counter, rolling up your pant leg to gingerly prod at your ankle and he watches your little shoulders hunch. From above, there’s another shower of dirt and rocks, the drip of water becoming a steady stream from a busted pipe.

• You’re afraid to take off your sneaker and see how bad it really is. Afraid you won’t be able to get the show back on if you do. The only thing you’re certain of it’s that you can’t stay here. You’re not sure if you’re in the sewer or in some kind of maintenance tunnel, but you don’t want it to become your tomb.

• “Your naïveté will get you killed,” he growls, watching you turn your attention back to him. To his trapped leg. While you can still walk, he can’t. Not alone. Doesn’t have the energy to swap back to nemesis form to try and free himself, too damaged to risk it. Ignoring you since you’re apparently not going to try and end him right this moment, he tries to free his pinned lower leg. Tensing when you limp over and drive that rebar under the broken wall crushing him and pushing down on it like a fulcrum. Too small to budge it at all, but still trying. Above them something creaks and scrapes. How long? Minutes or hours? And he follows your attention when it drifts toward the dark tunnel. “You can’t see in the dark, but I can. Find something sharp. Metal.”

• You stare at him, attention drifting back to his lower leg. Knowing you’re not going to get him free in time, but he’s right. It’s pitch deeper in and the only light is coming through the shifting rubble. You’ll never find a way out without him. Limping sends jagged shards of pain through your leg and knee, but you find something useable and carry it over. Feeling oddly squeamish as he positions it against the joint of his knee and you realize what he wants. Just a machine, you remind yourself as he tries to saw at the joint, making a low, snarling sound of very real pain. And you grab the sides of the metal fragment and drive it down. Again and again, feeling the edges biting into your palm. It takes both of you to sever the lower half of his leg and your palms are cut up and sticky with blood as you offer him a hand. “You’re still a monster,” you tell him as he lurches unsteadily upright with only one leg and one arm. Skin crawling as he leans on you and nearly knocks you both down with his weight. He’s silent as you grit your teeth and start moving, letting him use you for balance. Because even if he’s a monster, he doesn’t deserve to die like this. No one does.

Previous

[gem-de-lune]

Adressing some things

1: Idk why some of yall are freaking out abt Taro saying an album is coming soon....they have a cb due around March-July, which we already know.....in music terms that is indeed soon. What is the issue? I am confused. This is why yall need to stop analyzing i fear

2: MULTIPLE people asked smthing along the lines if SM is "getting" to some members bc they've been quiet abt things (particularly Shotaro and Sungchan)....they have been quiet since day 1....nothing has changed. Those two have the best poker faces known to man, and we have already discussed that none of the members aside from Wonbin and Anton really have any animosity towards OT6. idk what yall are on abt 😭

3. I need thinking caps on...pronto. stop being weird bc every member is not blatantly showing they are OT7 at every public appearance, bc that was never gonna happen. It is not only unplanned opportunity that members sometimes slip it through on purpose, but it's literally something they get scolded for doing. The ones who choose to do so very often like Anton and Wonbin are regarded as less tolerable to management who is making these decisions. Let Sungchan and Shotaro do what they need to do away from cameras. There is no change in their mindset just bc they are not in your face or on weverse doing what you want them to do.

I want to believe this is pure anxiety. But for SOME of you, this is abt finding a way out and finding a reason to stop. If you are thinking abt stopping, and you really want to stop, accept the fact that you are not doing right by them and that you are allowing bullies and nasty people to win instead of coming in my asks so you can seek validation and comfort for your shitty choices.

This is not For EVERYONE who sent asks asking abt the member's intentions, there are a LOT of you who send the same general question and some of you just wanna ask ur question and go- and are NOT seeking validation but clarity.

And OTHERS of yall add-on that you want to be done and want to quit, or very obviously word your question that way. so if it does not apply, let it fly. This is for the quitters who don't wanna feel guilty for quitting.

This is why I had closed my asks for a time bc a lot of quitters were in there.

And Ik these quitters are people who do not be reading my daily reads at all bc they are repeatedly asking me things I have already stated in like...the most recent reading so I'm just confused on how you are going to come into the blog- not read ANY posts, and then ask your question to seek validation..... If I continue to get those asks seeking validation to quit, I will turn off Anon....

I love and appreciate you all SO SO SO MUCH 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

I just need SOME of yall to lock in fr bc it is stressing me out and YOU out for absolutely no mf reason.

I may have to take a longer break and focus just on efforts. I will update on that decision within an hour or so.

[serialkilluh1996]

MY ☆𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆☆ HEADCANONS

SFW; no ratings or warnings, not proofread

SWEETHEART, NO HEART OR MIDDLE?

Is König the emotional type?

In my opinion? He's not a bubbly sweetheart, but he is FAR from a no heart.

He's not all lovey dovey on the surface. He doesn't like small talk. He doesn't like seeing people he recognizes in public, and he doesn't like confrontation.

König doesn't have the "uwu im so shy" social anxiety. He has the "it physically pains me when I have to speak someone and it causes violent intrusive thoughts" social anxiety. He never acts on it, of course, but social interaction makes him sick. There's a select few people he actually enjoys speaking with, and you are number one on that roster.

You'll start to notice he gets more talkative after a few weeks of knowing you, and he's more open to meaningless conversations because no conversation with you is meaningless to him. He actually enjoys when you ask him stupid questions.

CLASSY OR MESSY?

Is this guy willing to get his hands dirty?

He's naturally classy. He won't go out of his way to be messy, but he's no pretty boy either. He doesn't like mud on his boots or dirt under his fingernails. He's a very precise man. But he can get behind it every now and then.

I think he'd enjoy going on long walks in the woods to give his legs a good stretch. I don't think he'd mind spending a few hours disconnected from the rest of the world, somewhere out near the mountains. But anything further, such as hunting, you'd have to convince him to do, which doesn't take much work either. And he loves rough housing with you.

König likes tussling and tumbling in the bed like puppies til one of you eventually gets tired. You usually give in first, as he has seemingly endless stamina, but God, does it take long. He loves how long it takes for you to give up. Resistance means he's got a challenge, and you're the only one who brings out his competitive side. He's only pushy with those he's close with, so it takes a lot for people to convince him to go out for bowling or something like that.

WHAT'S HIS FAVORITE DRINK?

What does König like to drink?

He's a pretty thirsty guy, so anything that can properly hydrate him is a go-to. You'll notice when he takes you on rides that he keeps 2 liter water bottles in his backseat for emergency purposes.

It's why he wears his cargo pants outside of work. He's got pockets big enough to carry drinks all over.

Water is his favorite. He's the #1 water apologist. He's so crazy about it that he has a favorite kind of ice. Not the regular cubes, but the hollow nugget kind. He silently rejoices when restaurants and bars put it in his drinks.

And don't even get him started on juice. Orange juice, apple juice, grape juice, lemonade, the list goes on. He keeps the fridge filled with it. He'll typically drink it as a reward after a long day or in the morning once he's eaten something. It's like a little treat. König loves fruity shit. Smoothies, milkshakes, cocktails, all of it. It's why he just HAS to keep so much water on him, or he'll dehydrate.

PHYSICAL TOUCH?

What's his stance on physical touch?

It gives him the same feelings as conversations. It feels like hell. He's not a touchy-feely man. Handshakes, shoulder punches, getting pat on the back. He goes through it pretty often, and it makes him unbelievably uncomfortable when his coworkers do it. He doesn't want to seem rude, as he's already a scary guy, so he never fully expresses his issue, but anyone who can read eyes knows that bothered look. When he scrunches his nose and he winces with unease.

As he gets closer to you, he gets less tense about it. He's more likely to make the first moves and actually start giving hugs without being asked. He'll be all in your head, only stopping after you scold him for messing with it. He likes it when things are too high for you. Instead of grabbing it himself, König will pick you up, lifting you high enough to get it yourself just for a reason to hold your waist. He's pretty huge, so under regular circumstances, he's too tall to reach anything past your breast without bending over.

FRESH OR FUNKY?

What does he smell like?

Fresh. As hell. Man spends at least an hour and a half in the shower. The way it feels against his skin is just so mesmerizing. He loves hot baths and soaking in bubbles. On some days off, he'll go to the sauna with Horangi, but that's only after he's been begged and nagged into compliance.

König has a specific apple-scented soap he uses at night and a cinnamon wood soap for the day. He's likes to keep a different smell throughout the day to set his mood. Call him a pretty boy, but he just likes self care to a certain extent, and smelling good boosts his confidence.

NICKNAMES

Does he like nicknames?

He's neutral about them. Of course, he prefers calling people by their proper names. He's not against it. He's used to being firm and strict because of what he does, so he does his best to come off as sweet with what he calls you.

He puts his on swing on them. He likes teasing you for how much shorter you are than him. Yeah, everyone is shorter than König, but that makes it even funnier to him.

Kleine Frau is his go-to because he knows how much it annoys you to be referred to as a little woman. Other times, he'll just refer to you as some small animal or creature.

Things such as Maus, Haschen, and Schlumpf (Mouse, Bunny, and Smurf) are usually terms he saves for when he's trying to flirt with you, but in the end, they only piss you off, earning you some pathetic little apology where he actually refers to you as Schatze, liebling, or meine liebe; the usual terms of endearment.

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself. If you liked this, I recommend checking HERE for more König content <3

[victoriangold]

Loustat Fic Rec MASTERPOST

This is my Masterpost for all the Loustat fics I've read and enjoyed the most. There are about 150 fics ranked by word count. You can mostly find the tags #AU, #PostS2, #S1, plus a few rarer ones.

Updates will be collected and added in the reblogs.

THANK YOU to all the authors putting so much effort into creating these beautiful works that i've spent hours reading!! I owe you the world.

1k - 4k

through all the days out wandering by concertoforgashedneck (1,3k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) A (not-so) brief moment in a certain vampire rockstar's dressing room before the show.

j’veux pas mourir toute seule by WeeBeastie (1,4k, Rated M, #PostS2) alone in New Orleans, Lestat waits - and waits - for Louis to come back to him The Music Man by Gigi_Sinclair (1,5k, Rated E, #PostS2) Louis can't kick down the door to the luxury suite at the Royal Lancaster hotel. Well, he could, but getting arrested by the London police is not going to improve his mood at all. Instead, he knocks with a fist clenched so tightly, he draws blood from his own hand.

mosaic.  by pocketsun (1,6k, Rated E, #PostS2) Months after their intense and stormy reunion, Louis and Lestat finally find themselves coming together once more in the place where they feel most connected to each other– in the intimacy of the bedroom.

That Sound Is Loud Inside Us by thetickingsclock (2,1k, Rated M, #DMCentric) Daniel's turning and the immediate aftermath The End Of All Things by lesfleursrouges (2,1k, Rated E, #S1 ) Louis tries to accept the fact that Lestat will be dead tomorrow and that this is the end of all things.

pour by baberainbow (2,3k, Rated E, #S1 ) Too caught up in the turmoil of not getting his way in this hypothetical scenario, Lestat huffs all put-upon.Because he can't take a hint. Because he's a fucking idiot. Louis wants him carnally. say that you'll hold me forever  by femininomena (2,5k, Rated Teen, #PostS2 ) You got me a room?” Lestat asks as soon as they enter the elevator. “Presumptuous.” Louis chuckles, smiling widely at the half-hearted retort. “Hopeful.” show me the only way (you know how to love) by peacefrog (2,5k, Rated E, #S2E3) After the incident in the park, Lestat comes to Louis again. All I Have to Do is Dream by Anonymous (3,2k, Rated M, #S2) DreamLouis has thoughts. A lot of them. do wrong right by sightetsound (3,4k, Rated E, #S1 ) during episode four, Lestat and Louis experience a dry spell as a result of Claudia sleeping in their room, and then they don't. got it bad for you by ad_castra (3,4k, Rated E, #S1/2) Lestat runs hot when he kills, cheeks flushed red and fresh blood staining his teeth, all amped up and wild with the bloodlust. Louis’s favourite time to kiss him is then, licking it all up and savouring the aftermath.  ain't no mountain by wordsphoenix (3,5k, Rated -, #PostS2 ) Louis is on his way to visit a friend when he hears a familiar voice on the radio. fruit basket by peacefrog (3,5k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) Lestat’s whole body swayed as he walked. Pants sitting low on his hips. Hips like weapons, swell of his ass like a homing beacon. And Louis almost forced himself to look away when Lestat stopped, and turned back.

Into the Woods by Gigi_Sinclair (3,6k, Rated Teen, #PostS2 ) Lestat always had a lot of friends; he’s got more now he’s famous. Louis is okay with that. It would be insane not to be. He’s okay when, under the instruction of the director, the man touches Lestat, putting his big hands on Lestat’s waist and yanking their bodies together. It’s all part of the show, he reminds himself. Then, Lestat and the man kiss. And kiss, and kiss, take after take after take. True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me by pocketsun (3,6k, Rated E, #S1 ) Louis, avoiding Lestat after their night together, finds peace in a bookshop, but that peace is fleeting when it comes to a certain vampire stalking about. A Point of View by Gigi_Sinclair (3,6k, Rated M, #PostS2) An interview with another vampire. Which he sees as more like the game "Two Truths and a Lie." Threads by lesfleursrouges (3,6k, Rated E, #PostS2) Louis and Lestat find their way back to each other. Slowly. With care. you send me by vulcanscully (3,7k, Rated M, #PostS2 ) Close to a century after their Mardi Gras duet, Louis asks Lestat for a dance.

The Things We Did and Didn’t Do by marbleflan (3,7k, Rated M, #PostS2) You are thinking of him, maybe.” Louis looks up. “What?” Then it clicks. “Armand. You are touching me. In bed,” Lestat says, casual. Maybe too casual. “But you are thinking of him.” Louis doesn’t say anything. There’s not really anything he can say. It’s true, in a way. Not that he’s literally thinking about Armand. Not consciously. But he’s assuming Armand: Armand’s desires, Armand’s preferences, Armand’s reactions. He’s holding Lestat, he’s thinking of Lestat, he’s hard for Lestat. But he’s treating him like Armand. You don't know how to love me good by carmillas_wife_aurora (3,9k, Rated Gen, #PostS2) A song from Lestat causes a fight, a confession, a make out session in a dirty bar bathroom and a reunion. In that exact order.

4k - 5k

all I wanna, ain't no other by femininomena (4k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) GL tonight and ty for the tickets. Daniel said his daughters loved em. It takes every single inch of the self control that Lestat painstakingly curated for over seventy years of isolation for him not to chuck the phone at the wall.

The New Age by Gigi_Sinclair (4k, Rated M, #PostS2) "There was so rarely any restraint between the two of them. Everything was zero to a hundred faster than the cars Armand sometimes liked to show off to his snacks, and fuck whoever got in the way. Louis was fine with that. He got off on it. Now he's in his 140s, he thinks maybe it's time to grow up a little." all i want is to be home by deadratz (4,2k, Rated Teen, #PostS2) It’s strange to see Lestat around such modernity. To see the ways he has moved forward with the passing years, to embrace a new era — growing, even if he hasn’t grown old. The passing of time is still documented in the new way Lestat carries himself, in the way he fits into the present. No longer does Lestat only exist in memories and dreams. He’s no longer as he was the last night Louis saw him, no longer a twentieth century ghost out of place amongst modern walls and furniture. He's here, and he's different, but so much is still the same. Different, but still Lestat. Still beautiful.

in full transparency by ColorMeParanoid (4,3k, Rated T, #PostS2 ) the one in which Lestat can (allegedly) turn into a bat and Bram Stoker is (allegedly) a big fat petty liar Nearer, My Heart, To Thee by JustCallMeWinchester (4,3k, Rated E, #S2E4) Louis knew about his initials in Lestat's coat, after all, the Lestat of his hallucinations could only know what he knew, right? He'd found out the secret one very ordinary night, and now he carried his own secret, from NOLA to Europe, Dubai and back.

longing by baberainbow (4,3k, Rated E, #PostS2) The last night Louis spends with Lestat in the twentieth century; the first night Louis shares with Lestat in the twenty-first. forever's gonna start tonight by trinityofone (4,4k, Rated E, #DMCentric) Is It Vampire Pon Farr or Are We Fucking Soulmates?: The Daniel and Armand Story. If there were scarlet flags, they washed out in the mind of me. by pocketsun (4,5k, Rated E, #PreS2) Louis, as a human and as a vampire, working through his desire for Lestat. Or, four times Louis pleasures himself and the one time Lestat walks in and joins him.

on your side by fakehaunting (4,5k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) “My love,” Lestat murmurs. “I lay flowers for you at your grave and then you come to me. Is that what it really takes?”  Anchor up to me, love. by pocketsun (4,6k, Rated E, #PostS2) In the present day, Lestat finds out about the way in which Louis grieved for him. "You missed me so terribly," Lestat answers, finally appearing in the empty doorway as if Louis had summoned him right from his subconscious. "So terribly, you created a dream version of me. Is this true, mon cher? That you did this?"

Happy 160th! by Angstosaur (4,6k, Rated M, #S1 ) After Claudia's 17th birthday party, Louis senses something is troubling Lestat and eventually finds out that he has never celebrated his birthday. Louis decides to give him something good to remember when he thinks of November 7th in the future.

a singular soul by mllelerockstar (Deluxing) (4,7k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) “Tell me what you need baby.” Lestat shuddered and clutched him closer again. His lips were pressed to Louis’ ear, and he said in a devastated tone, “Say you love me mon cher. Just once, I promise I won’t ask again.” let's just blame it on london by cherhorowitz8 (4,9k, Rated M, #AU) Louis and Lestat try desperately to find a place where they can have sex. Also, Daniel’s wedding is a disaster.An AU one-shot inspired by an episode of Friends.

Bury Me Deep Inside Your Heart by prouvaireafterdark (5,1k, Rated E, #S1 ) AKA the very explicit coffin sex AMC never gave us in 1x04 stereoscopic by chinxe (5,2k, Rated M, #PostS2 ) Daniel just wants to get through The Vampire Lestat's documentary in one piece. The Vampires Lestat, Louis and Armand aren't making it any easier for him. don't have to guess by lestatslouis (ad_castra) (5,3k, Rated E, #PostS2) When Louis realises one of his biggest grievances with vampirism is the inability to communicate telepathically with Lestat, he keeps quiet for the sole reason that his sudden inclination to kill should definitely trump weird, psychic sex with his boyfriend. It’s kind of concerning that he considers them both an even playing field. love you loudly by vulcanscully (5,3k, Rated M, #PostS2) three times Lestat reels over Louis touching him in public, and one time they talk about it you cast the dust into nothing by skvadern (5,4k, Rated E, #S1 ) "When you're moving in me, I feel whole, Louis, as I haven't in so long. Entirely whole and adored." Lestat draws Louis over another line in the sand.

shadows in parallel planes by mllelerockstar (Deluxing) (5,4k, Rated Teen, #PostS2 ) it's been three years, one real estate empire and one platinum record since louis and lestat have last seen each other in person

i was on fire for you (but you brought in the cold) by cryptidink (5,4k, Rated E, #S1 ) It’s July in New Orleans and Lestat and Louis are feeling the heat. scarcely can speak for my thinking by cloudings (5,6k, Rated E, #PostS2) It’s been a good while now since they reunited in the rush of the hurricane, the discovery of the truth and treachery hot on their minds. On a warm Summer’s night, Louis and Lestat re-establish what they mean to each other, and re-visit the heat of the nights they used to share. held by vulcanscully (5,7k, Rated M, #PostS2) Louis learns to hold memory in his arms, and to let himself be held.

Tell Me One Thing Right by pomelos (5,7k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) Louis rediscovers his eye for photography, and somewhere along the way, finds a way to express his love to Lestat. no one else will have me like you do by peacefrog (5,8k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) The groupies line up by the dozen to get on their knees for Lestat. Lestat only gets on his knees for Louis. Sum of Our Worst Moments by moderndaylestat (5,8k, Rated E, #S1 ) Expansion of the scene from episode 1x06 where Louis swims the Mississippi to kick Lestat’s ass.

The French Quarter Phantoms by cococris, pocketsun, StarskyGirl  (5,9k, Rated Teen, #S1 ) Lestat flies Louis to New Orleans for a romantic date night that he definitely has planned and isn't at all a spur of the moment thing once they arrive. Definitely not. Only, while on this date, ghosts of their previous life begin to haunt them. The question is, how accurate are these ghost stories? And who knows them better than the two vampires who have lived to tell the tales?

autocorrelation by chinxe (5,9k, Rated E, #PostS2) Lestat wears a ring. Louis doesn't. Daniel pries, and gets a bit more than he bargained for.

6k - 7k

Reach For It by Alethia (6,1k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) "Louis, what is a 'Swiftie?'" "Oh, no," Louis said into the phone, dread gathering. "Did you say something smug and superior?" "I am Lestat. By definition I am superior, so smugness would naturally follow."

you and I both know by lamphouse (6,1k, Rated M, #PostS2) But even when one is dead and gone / It still takes two to make a house a home. Five minutes actually standing in the house with Lestat is all it takes. He thought he knew. He knew, but he wasn't ready for this. We only become more fully what we are by deadpooled (6,2k, Rated Gen, #PostS2) Louis is too shocked to respond immediately. The voice is faint, but it’s not hard to extrapolate when he’d been listening to it dissect his entire undeath for the more tumultuous part of the past month. All he can blurt, both out loud and through the connection, is, “Daniel?”.

personne d'autre by laundry (lovesjar) (6,2k, Rated E, #PostS2) Fuck the handcuffs, Louis thinks, screw the trinkets.

Of Mercy, With Choice by shavir_light (6,2k, Rated E, #PostS2) “I always thought that your victims were truly fortunate, to be gifted with such an exhilarating death,” Lestat says, tangled in the messy sheets. “What bliss it must have been, to be killed by one so beautiful.” Louis and Lestat play at a fantasy. It gets a bit out of hand. not for anything but warmth by wordsphoenix (6,3k, Rated - , #PostS2 ) There's no world in which Louis just leaves him there.

birds of a feather by andrealyn (6,6k, Rated M, #AU) Every few months, Louis dives passionately into a new hobby and drags Daniel along for the ride. Somehow, Louis didn't expect that birding would end up being so fascinating, but both he and Daniel manage to find something worth returning for in the woods. Except maybe Louis is the only one there for birding and not something else. Imperfect for you by Kaylin_KC (6,6k, Rated E, #PostS2) Louis and Lestat talk drag, an unexpected realisation, a love confession and then they fuck about it. And the Knowing Is Sweet, Too by shavir_light (6,6k, Rated E, #PostS2) For his own peace of mind, Louis had to get Lestat out of that miserable shack. He rented him a fully furnished apartment not too far from Rue Royale, then purchased a new, elegant coffin for him to sleep in. Next, a modern wardrobe to help him blend in with the mortals. And finally, he bought him a piano—a nice one, too. He assured Lestat that it was all a loan, just until he got his finances in order. The piano, though, was a gift. And now it was time for Louis to go home. Dry Spell by TorturedTadpoles (6,6k, Rated E, #WrittenPreS2 ) Louis and Lestat have reunited again in 2022 and everything is going well for the couple. Everything except for the fact that they haven't had sex yet. Louis sets out to change that - little did he realise it would bring up some unresolved issues from the past. the landscape after cruelty by kurtstiel (6,7k, Rated E, #PostS2) In the aftermath of the reunion, Louis takes Lestat back to his hotel.

shot at the night by verlec (7,2k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) Louis takes up photography again. Lestat offers to model for him. And what I thought was gone by Nalyra (7,4k, Rated E, #WrittenPreS2) Lestat smiles at him, seductively, blood sweat dripping into his eyes, the blond hair matted by sweat and falling into his face, blue eyes twinkling. Golden skin, shifting under the lights. Displayed. And then he turns to sing into the microphone, silently, fangs bared. The image on the screen flickers, changes, shows the guitarist. Back on Lestat, dancing along a stage, wearing… next to nothing. Or so Louis’ bodily reaction suggests. Memories rise, suddenly and impossible to process. drink up one more time (and i'll make you mine) by peacefrog (7,5k, Rated E, #S1 ) Desire thumped in Lestat like pure, unfiltered animal instinct. Like the want of the kill, the thrill of the hunt. Something up on its hind legs howling for the moon. “The night is young, my sweet. Give me just an hour? S'il te plaît, Louis. If I must, I will beg you.”

I try to be the chill girl, but honestly, I'm not. by pocketsun (7,6k, Rated E, #WrittenPreS2 ) “Let’s keep it casual.” Lestat is unsure if he hears it correctly. He is quite unsure about it as he lies there, panting from the comedown. Don't Poke the Hornet's Nest by TardisRos (7,7k, Rated M, #PostS2 ) Two interviews and three vampires later, Daniel still hasn't learned that prying is not always the wise thing to do.

8 - 9k

there's a religion in our love by ad_castra (8,5k, Rated E, #S1 ) Five times they sleep in Louis' coffin, one time they don't before i gaze at you again by tazatouille (8,6k, Rated Teen, #PostS2 ) Louis tries to figure out what to hold onto and what to let go. With Open Arms by magicbubblepipe (8,6k, Rated E, #PostS2) After reuniting with Lestat in New Orleans, Louis takes him back to his hotel to wait out the hurricane. Filled with a strong sense of protectiveness and a need to express a love too long denied, he also takes the opportunity to give his maker the tender care and affection he deserves. Whip In My Valise by magicbubblepipe (9k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) OR: Lestat sees the kink gear in Louis's Dubai bedroom and reaches some conclusions that may or not be true

hire a gardener for my grave by elke (weidli) (9k, Rated E, #PostS2 ) The first surprise (besides seeing a fledgling vampire gathering rats on Rue Royale, besides feeling Lestat’s presence like an electric-shock hum beneath his skin as he followed that same fledgling into grimier, rundown corners of the city that was his, once, besides seeing Lestat miserable and quiet and clutching at his wooden mockery of a piano) is that it’s Lestat who pulls away first. The second surprise is the reason why. gimme some face, a souvenir by atthebarricade (9k, Rated E, #PostS2) The Vampire Lestat is spiraling out of control. Daniel Molloy calls in backup.

Get him back  by Tumbledrylow (9,1k, Rated E, #WrittenPreS2 #RockstarLestat) Louis knew he had no right to be jealous, he had said he wanted just to be friends for a while, he’d just gotten out of a relationship, a long one, and Daniel had made a good point to him; Louis had no idea who he was outside of his companions.(Aka, Loustat friends to lovers again, feat. Jealous Louis suddenly understanding Lestat's crisis over Jonah, Pretty much 5+1 Louis observing Lestat and partners and then they finally talk.

And I can’t sleep, ‘cause thoughts devour, thoughts of you consume. by pocketsun (9,1k, Rated E, #S1 ) Louis’ very loud and very clear desires are broadcast to Lestat during their entire courtship. It’s impressive that Louis can keep a straight face while daydreaming about Lestat so passionately. inertia by chinxe (9,2k, Rated E, #PostS2) Lestat plays hard to get. Louis plays along. hyperspectral by chinxe (9,2k, Rated E, #Posts2) Lestat discovers the wonders of the internet. Louis discovers that, eighty years later, he's still just as normal about Lestat as he has ever been. Lilac Wine is Sweet and Heady by Craftnarok (9,2k, Rated E, #PostS2) With the hurricane about to cave Lestat's shack in on top of them, Louis invites him back to his hotel to keep talking. It's an impulse, not a plan, led by damage and desire, and Louis is more than willing to let it play out and figure out the consequences when the storm's blown over.

Anecdotes by magicbubblepipe (9,3k, Rated E, #S1 ) Set in the first episode, early in their courtship. Louis comes home horny from helping his friend Lestat update his wardrobe and has to take matters into his own hands. Lestat hears his beloved Louis calling his name and sneaks a peek.

i will give you all of me by peacefrog (9,5k, Rated E, #S1 ) Lestat buys Louis the Fairplay Saloon. After, he wants to give him so much more.

[silverirony]

hi can i be insane for a sec

sorry to be an archaeologist (archaeo student, but still), but I can't stop thinking about this. i know nobody else cares about this the thing is I don't think you understand just how right gordon is here. I don't think even gordon understands. the foundation of (we live in a) society really is all about the ability to store surplus of food.

that's the difference between hunter-gatherers and farmers, between nomadic and sedentary lifestyles, this is the neolithic revolution. Storing the food we don't eat immediately allowed us more freedom to focus on technology, art, and architecture. this is the reason we only see monumental structures being built after we settled down and started pretty much hoarding as many resources as we could. this is the foundation of society, of social hierarchy, of religion, you name it.

the world that exists now exists because of salt, honey, vinegar and ice. I appreciate this perspective so much because we rarely take a culinary approach to the changes and revolutions in pre- and ancient history. we tend to focus on the emerging power structures and elites, the conflicts and warriors, the cities and empires - pretty much all the things that divide people. so, looking at this from the perspective of food, specifically food preservation, is actually so nice and refreshing and I want to know what article Jon read for this (give me that jstor link)

SECond of all. the history of mummification make me unwell. theres So much that I think people miss about it bc it's always like mummies > ancient egypt > pyramids > aliens (I'll kill you im so fucking tired). I could go on and on about how burial rites are the purest expression of love and care that humans have ever developed but the mention of chinchorro culture actually took me out.

I need everyone to understand that the chinchorro mummies are the oldest mummies we've discovered. because I will never forget when my south american archaeology prof spent like half an hour explaining to us that the oldest mummies in the world are children because child mortality rate was so high that losing so many children became so overwhelming they did the only thing they could to keep them alive - they removed soft tissues and covered them in clay, sculpted the features of each one of them and mourned. there's evidence that they displayed those mummies in public spaces - not cemeteries but main squares of settlements or built special structures to house all of their dead. this makes me insane bc 1. the idea that in antiquity and middle ages ppl would lose so many children they became desensitized to it is wrong - they literally could not get over it so much they invented a completely new way to bury somebody (or really, keep the alive) and 2. the desire to keep our dead with us forever, in any way we can, for as long as we can, is literally over 7 thousand years old. it's older than bronze metallurgy, it's older than any empire, any country, it's older than domesticated horses and bees. insaneeee.

and I think this is an interesting contrast to how human preservation is portrayed throughout most of red valley, which is - rich people trying to avoid the consequences of their own actions while damning everyone else, or as a punishment, a new type of prison. the chinchorro mummies are literally the difference between all of that and gordon and warren being frozen for 44 years to give them a better chance, a new life. it's the preservation of someone you care about born from the refusal to let them go, the inability to face reality, the complete defiance of the natural order of things. Aubrey freezing them - and thus not letting them die - is literally no different from the chinchorro mummies, and egyptian mummies, and bog bodies, and scythian kurgans, and roman hypogea, and every great monument. archaeology is a study of everything we had and how we lost it and how we grieved it. someone hold my hand.

[fruvittea]

whispers in the rain ✧˚ · . part two

— ✺ pairing: jay x reader x jake

— ✺ genre: slice of life, angst, suggestive, fluff, childhood best friend, love triangle, college au, slow burn

—✺ synopsis: jay is your childhood best friend. that’s all he will ever be. a summer with jay and his friends changes how you feel for him when jake comes into your life. and jay begins to think that was a mistake.

—✺ warnings: for this part none so far

—✺ word count: 1.6k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | ...

The plane ride had been a blur of polite conversation with Jake, laughter over silly anecdotes, and the occasional glance toward Jay, who sat a row ahead. You could only see the back of his head, but it was enough to notice how often he turned slightly, as if trying to eavesdrop.

Jake was sweet—charming, even—but the more he spoke, the more you found yourself thinking about Jay.

Jake had been telling a story about how he and Jay first met when you caught Jay’s gaze over the seat. He quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in a book. Something about the brief exchange left a sour taste in your mouth. You didn’t know why.

The beach house came into view hours later, and your jaw dropped. It wasn’t just a house—it was a sprawling, modern home perched on a cliff with a view of the ocean that stretched endlessly.

“Wow,” you whispered, stepping out of the car.

“First time seeing it?” Jake asked, grabbing your bag.

“Yeah. Jay never invited me before.”

Jake chuckled. “Guess he wanted to keep it special this time.”

His words were lighthearted, but they made you pause. Special? Was this trip supposed to mean something more?

The first few days at the house were blissful. Mornings started with lazy breakfasts on the terrace, afternoons spent on the beach, and evenings around the fire pit, sharing stories and laughter. One afternoon, Jake suggested heading into town with Sunoo and Heesung to explore the area, and you eagerly agreed.

The group wandered through cobblestone streets lined with charming shops and cafés. Jake stayed close by your side, pointing out little things he thought you’d like—a quirky handmade bracelet, a café with colorful umbrellas strung overhead, a tiny bookstore tucked between larger buildings.

“Hey, let’s go in here,” Jake suggested, nodding toward the bookstore. “I bet they have something you’d like.”

Inside, the air smelled faintly of old pages and fresh coffee. You wandered between the shelves, running your fingers along the spines of the books. Jake hovered nearby, occasionally picking up a title and showing it to you with a grin.

“You really know how to pick them,” you teased, taking the book from his hands to examine it.

“What can I say? I’ve got great instincts.”

You laughed, but the warmth in his gaze made you look away. Jake was undeniably charming, and his attention was flattering. Still, as much as you tried to focus on him, your thoughts kept drifting back to Jay.

After the bookstore, the group stopped at a small café. Jake insisted on paying for your drink, ignoring your protests.

“Consider it a welcome-to-town gift,” he said with a wink.

Sunoo and Heesung teased him mercilessly for it, but Jake only grinned, his confidence unwavering.

As the day went on, you felt yourself relaxing more. Jake was easy to talk to, and the dynamic between the group made everything feel lighthearted and fun. By the time you returned to the beach house, your cheeks ached from smiling so much.

Meanwhile, back at the house, Jay stretched out on the couch, his arms draped across the backrest as he watched Jungwon flip through the options on the massive TV. Niki and Sunghoon were sprawled on the floor, their heads nearly touching as they argued over which game to play later.

“Sheesh, it’s so weird not having Jake here yelling about everything,” Sunghoon muttered, glancing up from his phone.

“It’s only been a few hours,” Niki said, rolling his eyes. “They’re probably just wandering around town, eating snacks and taking tourist pictures.”

Jay chuckled, imagining you and Jake laughing at some inside joke or Jake convincing you to do something ridiculous, like try matching sunglasses from a street vendor. The thought brought him an unexpected sense of peace.

“What are you grinning about?” Jungwon asked, looking over his shoulder.

Jay shrugged. “Nothing. Just happy they’re having fun.”

Jungwon frowned slightly, exchanging a glance with Sunghoon. “You’re… happy about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jay replied, sitting up straighter. “It’s great that she’s getting close to someone new. She deserves that.”

“You’re way too chill about this,” Niki said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Most people wouldn’t be so calm about their best friend hanging out with someone else all the time.

Jay waved him off. “That’s the whole point, though. I’ve always wanted her to branch out more, meet people outside of me. She’s been stuck with me for years. It’s nice to see her connect with someone else.”

The room went quiet for a moment. Jay didn’t notice the looks being exchanged between the others, or the way Sunghoon raised an eyebrow and mouthed, does he not see it?

“Hmm,” Jungwon finally said, his tone loaded with meaning.

“What?” Jay asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” Jungwon said quickly, turning back to the TV. “Anyway, we should go out too. Can’t let Jake and her have all the fun.”

The four of them piled into a car and headed into town. The streets were alive with activity, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Jay found himself oddly relaxed, even as his friends took every opportunity to tease him.

At a small café, Niki pointed to a couple sharing a milkshake at a table by the window. “Hey, Jay, that could be Jake and her right now. Cute, huh?”

Jay laughed, brushing it off. “Yeah, maybe. They’d make a good pair.”

Sunghoon choked on his drink. “You’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

Jay blinked. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Bro.” Sunghoon leaned forward, his tone exasperated. “You’ve been best friends with her forever, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re fine with her and Jake getting all… close?”

“Yeah,” Jay said again, though he could hear the slight edge in Sunghoon’s voice.

“You’re unbelievable,” Niki muttered under his breath.

They wandered through the streets, stopping at shops and street performers along the way. Jay found himself smiling more than usual, his mood unusually light.

“Look at him,” Jungwon said, nudging Niki. “He’s practically glowing.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “You guys are being weird.”

“No, you’re being weird,” Niki shot back. “How are you this okay with everything? Like, no jealousy? No weird feelings?”

Jay shrugged, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Why would I feel weird? She’s my best friend. I just want her to be happy.”

“That’s what people say when they’re in denial,” Sunghoon muttered, earning a laugh from Jungwon and Niki.

Jay furrowed his brows, genuinely confused. “Denial about what?”

Jungwon smirked. “Oh, nothing. You’ll figure it out.”

Later that night, back at the house, Jay stood out on the deck, staring at the ocean. The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, the sound soothing but leaving him oddly restless.

He thought about the way your eyes lit up when you laughed, the way Jake always managed to make you smile. The image didn’t bother him—it shouldn’t bother him.

And yet… something felt off.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Jungwon said, stepping onto the deck with a knowing grin.

Jay glanced at him, frowning. “Am I?”

“Yup. Just admit it already.”

“Admit what?”

Jungwon shrugged, leaning against the railing beside him. “That maybe you’re not as cool with all this as you think.”

Jay opened his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he turned back to the ocean, the crashing waves mirroring the unease building in his chest.

[porkcutletbowl44]

The Man You Need

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: 🔞NSFW. MDNI. unprotected p in v sex(wrap it in foil before you check her oil), dirty talk, creampie, PWP, Insomnia!reader, brief mention of misogyny, semi-public sex, shower sex, reader is also kinda bratty

(Ik y'all are only here for the porn that's why the plot dies quick lmao)

A big thank you to the 200 followers and counting 🫶🏻🩷

• · ────── ·🔞🖤🔞· ────── · •

"Y'look knackered, 'aven't been sleepin' enough?"

Simon's voice forces you to stop staring at the stale scones under the heat lamp, yanking you out of that day dream of falling face first into the breakfast line to get real sleep.

"Just the usual insomnia," you reminded. "What plans do you have today?" You asked, gatherthering the last of your breakfast.

His long strides effortlessly keeping up with your shorter ones. He towers over you as you both approach the table where you both sat normally.

"Just the usual, trainin' new recruits." He answers in the same manner as you, he sits down opposite you. He stretches his long legs out under the table, his calves brushing yours.

His eyes fixed on you like little bugs on your skin, taking in every detail of your face.

"'ow long has it been since y'last slept through a night?" He asks gruffly.

"Saturday." You answered.

His jaw clenches momentarily behind the thin fabric of his balaclava, and his shoulders stiffen.

"Y'mean to tell me its been three days an' you're still functioning?" He retorts, skepticism written on his face. He knows you, and he knows how bad your insomnia gets.

"Yeah. Doesn't help when we have to wake up early."

Ghost lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand over his face.

"You can't survive on 2 or 3 hours o' sleep a day. Y'know you're pushin' it too far. You're going to collapse soon if y'don't get your sleep under control."

He's always stern when he speaks, but with you it's like he's scolding you like a child who doesn't know any better.

You do know better; you've busted your ass to get where you are. You've had to deal with everything in the book to fight to where you are now in the military, and he knows that, he's been there the majority of the time and yet he nags you everyday about something.

"Well I'm trying, Si. Melatonin doesn't work and it gives me bad headaches." You mumbled irritably.

"Doesn't work, eh? An' I can see those bags under your eyes. Headaches too..." He rubs his chin as he looks at you, his eyes calculating. "What 'ave you tried so far, love? I've told you to keep me updated."

"The sleepy tea worked for a little bit, and then it didn't. I tried running before bed, no screen time, benadryl..."

Simon grunts and leans back in his chair, listening to you list all the things you've already tried and don't work, his frustration only seems to grow with this situation— or you?

"Bloody hell. You've tried everythin', 'aven't you? Nothin' seems to work, it's as if your body just won't shut down."

Sometimes this leads to the same thing over and over again, the 'you have to sleep' or, 'why do you do this to yourself?'. You just smile and nod, because yes, you can 100% control this.

"Well, sometimes another thing works, but it's just too much of a hassle." You shrugged, sipping some vitamin water.

Simon's brows furrow as he hears your muttered words. He leans forward, his gaze intense.

"What 'other things?'"

You sometimes keep things from him, and he won't let you get away with it this time. Or, there's the other times you are blunt, disgustingly blunt. You live with a bunch of men, who do not have a filter, that alone has killed yours out of existence.

You blink, fidgeting in place. "Ahem. Me time?"

He's not dense, he knows exactly what you mean and he's not one to back down from anything that usually makes normal people squeamish or "grossed out".

"An" 'ow is it 'too much o' a hassle exactly?" He asks, a slight raise in an eyebrow.

"My hand cramps." You rolled your eyes, it was obvious, who doesn't have that problem sometimes?

He crosses his arms over his broad chest with a humored look, your honesty can be either amusing or completely looked over.

"Your hand cramps, you say? Thas a hell o' a reason."

He chuckles softly, his eyes raking over you, taking in the sight before him. His gaze is heated. Your face can feel it, it's warm, it's like he's putting your face close to a bonfire with that look. For months you two do this... This thing that borders flirty and suggestive but at the same time it doesn't quite feel like either.

"Yeah. Thinking about going down to the store."

His eyes snap up, crossed arms going lose from his chest. He's not stupid; he knows what "going down to the store" means.

"You're talkin' about goin' to get one o' those things." His voice is low, but not quite harsh. He's almost hesitant to say it out loud, but he says it with so much disdain.

You deadpan. "A vibrator, Simon. A vibrator."

The tops of his cheeks flush red beneath his balaclava at your blunt response. You giggle a little, not expecting such a reaction from Lieutenant Ghost. What's the big deal? Did guys not talk about fleshlights? Brand recommendations?

He clears his throat before speaking, a little husky and quiet. No way, are you embarrassing him with girl stuff?

"Y-yeah. One o' those." He stutters, his usual confidence wavering. "Yes, thank you, love. I realize that. I just..." He trailed off, blinking a few times.

"Y'can't be serious. You're goin' to use a toy instead o' asking for help?"

It's like he can't believe you just said that out loud, in a busy mess hall no less. This is what it took? Talking about sex toys to make him awkward?

"Uhm...yeah? I less you have a boyfriend in your pocket waiting for me." you retort.

And yikes, he didn't seem to like that. His eyes squint, probably crinkle in his nose. He paused, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes studying your face closely.

"You don't seriously think y'need a toy instead o' just asking me, do you?"

Why does he sound hurt??

Your stomach does a backflip off your intestines and into a hot tub of oil. He did not just say that. You must be asleep, yes, you must be dreaming.

You giggled, "Good one."

Simon gives a low grumble, his jaw flexing and grinding. This apparently wasn't a laughing matter to him. Is he serious? Your tongue works over your teeth, trying your absolute hardest to be so cool, nonchalant, you don't care you don't care—

"'M not jokin', love. You don't honestly think that a toy would be better than the real thing, do you?"

Of course it's not fucking better. But what choices did you have? Sleep with one of your teammates and then get a dishonorable discharge? Make things awkward in your team?

"Oh... Considering it's illegal to have relationships, yes. A vibrator won't leave me, cheat on me, break my heart... It's perfect." You shrugged— it was for the best anyways.

He knew the rules just as much as you did. And he followed them religiously. What the hell is going on? Why would he just suggest that out of the blue?

"Y'think you'd be better off with a piece o' silicone than takin' the chance on me?"

You pinch your thigh under the table. Nope. You're still here in mess hall, in front of your now cold breakfast, and Simon is still trying to convince you to fuck him.

"Y'wouldn't be satisfied with that thing. You'd get bored, love..." He sounds so sure, and jealous when he speaks of the horrible, terrible, vibrator.

"How would you know?" You quired quickly.

Just to double check. Maybe the sleep deprivation was catching up.

"I know 'cause I know you. You'd get tired o' that thing eventually, you'd want somethin' real."

He paused for a moment, his eyes lidding, darkening, consuming.

"You'd want someone to touch you, love. Not some piece o' plastic an' silicone."

"Yeah, like I'd ever get that," you barked out a laugh out of sheer nerves.

He didn't like that anymore than your last dismissive reply, you may just be convinced about now. So, cue to you squeezing your thighs together in your seat. Acting completely normal. Because everything about this is so normal; your coworker just telling you to come to him for a good fuck to be able to sleep.

"What do y'mean by that? 'ow can you say that with a straight face? Y'don't think anyone would want to touch you? Let y'know 'ow loved you are?" He grumbled, his hands clenching on top of the table.

"Y'think you're so undesirable that nobody would want you? Bloody hell..." He shakes his head.

"Simon, take a look at me." You licked your lips to prevent a shout of frustration, yikes, you do need sleep.

Simon's eyes fly over your form, from head to toe. He took his time studying you, his eyes lingering over the curves of your body, the way your hair fell over your face. There isn't a damn thing wrong with the way you look.

"'M lookin' at ya, love. An' what I see is perfection. So tell me again... what's your damn point?"

Oh, good God. It's real. But this is better than you imagined; you want to make him work for it. All because it's hotter to get a man to work for something, get all riled up.

"What do you see? A cutesy little girly girl? A nice little housewife for a big strong man?" You asked sarcastically.

"I see a woman who's strong, capable, an' bloody beautiful." He glares, offended you'd even think about saying that, "You're not some dainty damsel in distress, you're a force to be reckoned with..."

"My point exactly. Men don't want a chick that's more man than them." You rolled your eyes at just mentioning the delicacy of fragile masculinity these days.

Simon grunted and rolled his eyes, his irritation building into something you might not want to poke at.

"Thas where you're wrong, love." He points his spoon at you. "Not all men are as narrow-minded as y'think. I know damn well I want a woman like you. Strong, feisty, sexy."

"My point, Simon! I don't want some fucking pussy, I want someone whose more man than me." You huff.

You're not entirely implying this trait about him... You just wanna see him work for it.

"You're not goin' to find that in a bloody toy, love. You're lookin' in the wrong place if y'think some plastic will make y'feel better. Y'want a man? You already 'ave a man."

He was right there, willing to give you what you needed. But how far will he go?

"Yeah but... I want something real, too." You tried to explain.

This flirting back and forth was something you enjoyed; but what would it mean in the long run?

"Exactly." He huffed a bit exasperated. "Y'want somethin' real. Somethin' I can give you."

He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to you, his eyes deep and intense.

"Y'don't need a toy, love. You 'ave me. 'M real, an' I want you. Don't settle for some piece o' plastic when y'know damn well what you really want."

Okay then, schizophrenic, game on.

"I want someone stronger than me, someone to give me a reason to act like a woman," You snorted.

You were infuriating at times.

"An' y'think I can't give ya that? Y'think I can't make y'feel like a woman? Like a fuckin' queen?" That retort comes out low, accusing. "I can definitely make y'feel like a woman. Y'don't need someone stronger than you, love. Y'just need me."

Nail on the head with that one; yet how far can you take it? You lean between your elbows, squeezing your tits together to make you look as enticing as possible.

"Do I?" You purr.

Simon freezes in time, his plastic spoon almost falling away from his thick fingers. His hand does scramble for it to his credit but he almost dumps his bowl in the process. You hear him clear his throat roughly, Adams apple bobbing at the hem of his mask before it disappears. You bite your lip with a challenging gaze, would he take it?

"Yes," He replied firmly to cover up his hesitation, "Y'need me, love. Y'just don't know it yet. I can make y'feel things no toy ever could. Think y'need a man t'make you feel like a woman? I can do that, an' I will happily."

You smirk, "You're gonna have to try harder than that,"

"Oh, I will, love. You're just askin' for a challenge, aren't you?"

"You afraid to take it?" You shot back slyly.

He was anything but afraid with that look. He was up for the challenge, and you know he's gonna prove it.

"Baby, 'm not afraid o' anythin' when it comes to you," he replied, his voice low and husky. "As long as you can take what I can give you."

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes searing into yours. There was danger in his gaze, it only made it all the more delicious.

"Y'think you can 'andle me, love? Y'think you're ready for what I can do t'you?"

"Only if you can prove it." You grin.

Ghost let out a low growl, his eyes darkening at your challenging tone. He thrived on it, it only fueling his drive to prove himself to you.

"Oh, I'll prove it, love. I'll prove it again an' again until y'can't even think straight."

"No, no, prove you're more man than me." You corrected easily.

"Y'want to know why 'm more o' a man than you? I can make y'feel things you 'aven't even imagined before. I'll 'ave you beggin' f'me, addicted t'me."

"I'll be waiting, then." You set the challenge in stone. This was it.

The bear has been poked enough. He was on a mission now.

"You'll be beggin' f'me before the night's over." He boasts smoothly, a promise and a warning all in one.

"If I get a good night's sleep I'll consider keeping you,"

You were maddening, and he both loved and hated the way you pushed his buttons. It was all in good heart; for the most part.

"You're already keepin' me, love. Y'just don't know it yet."

You bite your lip, taking a quick survey of the area before replying. This was getting too good to be true.

"Don't disappoint then, we have..." You glance at your watch, humming, "six hours until lights out."

"Thas more than enough time." He grunts, all smug and cocky behind his mask.

Step one, getting recruit work out of the way. It's boring as fuck, mostly watching the Lieutenant scare the absolute piss out of the fresh meat.

Simon was barking orders left and right, ruthless to the soldiers in training. Almost as ruthless as the sun beating down on them.

You abandoned your spot in the shade, clip board in hand. You balance two water bottles on the wooden board as you approach to offer a beverage.

"Thanks," he grumbles, his eyes darting around to ensure no one witnessed the small gesture just like you.

He took the offered water, downing half the bottle in one go and adjusting his mask back in place. You drag your pin down the clip board to check off what's already done.

"Forty laps?"

"Forty laps."

Simon confirmed with a gruff nod, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before turning back to the recruits. Despite the challenging heat, he refused to end the training drills early no matter how much you teased him about buying him a little extra on your toy run— Viagra.

You thought it was hilarious, him? Not so much.

"An' they better pick up the pace!" He barked, the deep baritone easily reaching the pirvates' ears.

You circle that box, "And the sixty pull ups?" You breathed a bored sigh.

Simon grunted in annoyance.

"Done."

He informed in a low grumble, his jaw working under the balaclava. It was an excessive amount, but many of the recruits wouldn't even make it halfway through. But he didn't care, he was in a mood. A horny one. When was the last time this guy got laid?

"Wasn't accepting any half-assed attempts, either."

"The rope climbing?" You tap your pen at the box.

Simon glances down at the list, eyeing the scribbles and doodles next to the ticked boxes.

"Done." He replies simply.

You could faintly hear the sound of the recruits groaning and grumbling in pain and exhaustion, you almost felt bad. It was minor flashbacks to your recruitment days, yet Simon didn't seem to have that same sympathy judging by the satisfaction in his eyes.

"Aaannnd... Combat." You hum, one last task left for training.

This was where things get interesting.

"Its last. Need to let 'em rest a bit first. Suppose they earned it."

"Generous," you comment blandly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep checkin' off the list. I wanna get these fuckin' recruits dismissed soon. 'M sick o' the heat."

The day dragged on painfully slowly. The heat was relentless until the rain would show up any minute, and he was more irritable than usual. Even the recruits seemed to notice his foul mood, giving him a wide berth whenever he was in their vicinity. You were starting to grow bored of his usual job of scaring the hell out of the recruits, (not so bored when sweat rolls down the thickness of his biceps and the bounce of his tits when he jogs up to the trainees to yell at them) and overall wondering when and how the fuck you're supposed to get laid at this point.

Finally, the training was over. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the compound. The recruits limped and hobbled their way to their assigned lodgings, exhausted and sore.

Simon, on the other hand, seemed like he had even more energy than usual. Despite the long, grueling day, he was somehow wired and restless. You should ask what energy drink he uses after you wrap this up. (Hint: it's the male drive to get some pussy).

As the recruits dispersed, one in particular caught your eye. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious of the bunch, strutting around like he owned the place. You and Simon had seen it countless times before, it got old fast.

"Arrogant little prick," Simon muttered irritably.

You tongue your cheek, "What? Threatened by him?"

It's a pointless taunt— Simon? Threatened? Gosh, it's so fun to get men worked up. Simon's eyes narrow at your comment, a grunt bursting out from him.

"Threatened? Me? Fuckin' hell, no." He grumbles offendedly. "I could take 'im apart within a minute. Can't stand the ones caught up in their own 'ead,"

You hum in agreement. You know for a fact you'd pay to see that one day, and Soap would be right behind you.

"You're lucky you're the most tolerable person 'ere," he adds goodnaturedly.

You backhand his shoulder lightly, "Oh, look, your best friend is coming over!"

And speak of the devil, the recruit struts over with that piece of shit arrogant smirk. Simon rolls his eyes in annoyance as he turns to face the strutting recruit.

"Great. Just what I need," The sarcasm is laid on thicker than the suspicious gravy served this morning at breakfast.

The recruit saunters over, his obnoxious confidence on full display. Simon clenches his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Sir... Do we have more extensive training available?" He asks slowly, his own ego taking a hold of his tongue.

Simon's eye twitches at the recruit's pompous tone. Extensive training, more like a request for special treatment to feed that ego.

"Extensive training?" He echos roughly, "F'you? Why?"

The recruit shrugs boredly, "I think your ways are a bit old fashioned, too easy,"

Easy, old fashioned? This cocky little bastard doesn't know the first thing about hard work. And he's about to serve himself his very own buffet of living hell from Simon. You distract yourself with the grass below your feet, taking everything you have to not laugh.

"Y'think we make things easy on you?" He sneers, taking a step closer to the recruit. "Y'think you're hot stuff, eh? Well, you're in for a rude awakening, rookie."

Your lips purse, frowning deeply to stop the smile.

"What makes y'think you deserve anythin' beyond the standard training regime, hmm? You 'aven't earned a fuckin' thing yet." He glares at the recruit, his eyes dark and intense behind his mask. "Y'get your fuckin' arse to the barracks. Your extensive training for the next month? You'll be cleanin' the bathrooms before lights out."

The recruit's smirk falters at Simon's orders. He's not used to being talked back to, much less being told what to do. But he tries to maintain his cocky attitude, not wanting to back down in front of you, maybe. Ugh, men.

"Bathroom duty? That's... a little degrading, isn't it?"

Simon chuckles darkly, his eyes dancing with amusement. This cocky bastard was really pushing his luck more than you were. You almost feel bad if it weren't so funny.

"Degrading?" he sneers. "Welcome to the military, rookie. It's not a goddamn country club. Y'think you can come 'ere, demand extra training, an' expect special treatment? This ain't a playground. You're 'ere to learn discipline, not stroke your ego."

You stifle a laugh behind your clipboard. This was too good, and all the more hot to see Simon angry.

Simon shoots a sidelong glance at you, even though he's supposed to be acting tough and intimidating, he seems to let himself crack through the lieutenant role around you.

The recruit, on the other hand, doesn't notice your amusement. He just looks sulkily at Simon, clearly not pleased with the prospect of bathroom duty.

Simon grabs the recruit roughly by the collar, the display of power and dominance making you jump in place. Simon's firm grip on the recruit's collar startles the cocky little punk, his eyes wide in surprise.

"See, this is your problem," Simon grits lowly. "Y'think you're untouchable. Y'think you're better than everyone else. But lemme tell you somethin', wanker... you're not."

The recruit stammers, eyes frozen with fear.

"Disobey your superior officer again an' I'll make sure your walls are covered in you."

He gives the recruit a rough shove, releasing his collar. The recruit stumbles back, shocked out of words.

"Consider that your final warning," Simon growls. "Now get your arse to the fuckin' barracks, rookie."

The recruit seems to shrink under Simon's intimidating aura, his cocky demeanor shattered and squashed to dust. He mumbles a half-hearted, "Yes, sir," before hurrying away.

You check your watch, "Well, today has been fun. It's too bad you only have three hours left."

Three hours left, you say? He hadn't even started yet. Because of training, of course.

"Three hours, huh?" He grumbles, eyes setting in determination. "Don't count me out yet, love. I can do a lot in three hours."

"Hurry it up, or in three hours I'll have a brand new shiny vibrator." You grin cheekily.

"You won't be needin' any damn vibrator if I 'ave anythin' to say 'bout it," he hisses. "I don't need any bloody gadgets to 'elp out."

He starts to stalk towards you, his eyes intense and focused. Your thighs squeeze together, pleased with your outcome.

"Three hours is more than enough time f'me to prove myself, love. An' you'll be beggin' before the clock strikes, guarantee ya that."

"Right," you drawl with a roll of your eyes.

He reaches up with a rough hand, grabbing your chin and lifting it so your eyes meet his.

"Y'think I can't prove myself in three hours, huh? That I need some bloody toy to 'elp me out? I promise you, love, you'll be singin' a different tune."

You giggle teasingly, biting your tongue through your smile.

"Tick tock, Simon." You singsong.

You were mocking him, challenging him, all for this purpose.

"You're playin' a dangerous game, love," he growls down at you, "Y'think you can tease an' walk away with that pretty lil smile on your face. But you're gonna find out real quick that I won't back down, even when you're being a cheeky lil minx."

You smirk dreamily, staring up at him with raw want. You kinda want him to do something extravagant, proving himself just because. When was the last time you had fun like this?

"You're pushing your luck, love," he grunts, his voice gruff with barely concealed desire. "If you keep lookin' at me like that, there ain't gonna be enough time to do everythin' I wanna do to you."

You pull from his hand, turning on your heel as you call over your shoulder,

"I'll be waiting, Si,"

You were taunting him, teasing him, with that sultry little comment and casual tone. You feel his eyes on your ass with each sway of your hips, that naked feeling let's you know he's undressing you with his eyes.

You whip out your phone to look at the time, alas, there's just no way what you want can happen. The rules, regulations, and the severe lack in privacy.

Shooting Captain a quick text for permission to leave base for an hour you head into the higher up showers for some much needed washing of the sweat collected on your body.

As you toss your towel on the bend, your phone buzzes.

'Permission granted. I'll let the team know you'll be out.'

Your heart drops to your ass as you frantically text back—

'Wait no that's not necessary!!!!!'

And then, to your horror, you get a ping in the group text.

Shit.

The team knows youre just going out, but Simon knows. Simon knows you're chickening out from the challenge.

"Fuck!" You hiss, frantically looking around the showers as if there were anything that could help you.

There's nothing. Not the gathered pubes in the moldy shower drain nobody uses, not the faded rusting lockers, not the dirty windows that nobody will ever be able to see out of no matter how much scrubbing

You're fucked.

But how fucked, do we wager? Does this mean Simon will get in his feelings and never talk to you again? Will he out you? (No, it wouldn't ever—) What if he gets revenge?... What kind of revenge?

As you stand there, panic setting in, a voice rings out from the entrance of the shower area.

"What 'appened to three hours?"

You squeak as the door slams, the deadbolt echoing through the room.

You are locked in the showers with Simon.

"What's with the sudden cold feet?" Simon grunts as he rounds the corner, closing the distance between you in slow, measured strides.

"I-I can explain—" you stammer, phone dropping on the bench next to your towel.

He stalks towards you, his steps slow and deliberate. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze that makes your heart beat even faster in your chest.

You're trapped, unable to back away, and he looms over you like a caged beast.

"Explain why you're runnin' away from the challenge you issued, love?" he drawls, stopping just a few feet away from you. "This I 'ave to 'ear."

He crosses his arms as he stands there, his eyes never leaving your face. You're in for it now, his expression seems to say.

You chuckle nervously, gesturing between the two of you, "I mean, realistically it can't ever happen—"

"Who says it can't?" He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, rough growl. "I don't care 'bout the damn regulations, love. That's not gonna stop me from 'aving you."

"Y-You are all about the rules, Si. You follow them to a T— You wouldnt—" you swallow thickly. What have you done to yourself this time.

"I usually follow the rules, yes," he concedes tauntingly, "An' right now, those rules are fuck all to me anymore."

Your tongue suddenly feels heavy in your mouth, "W-What about—"

Simon leans a forearm over your head and slouches down, his eyes darkened by lust and determination.

"What 'bout...?" he mocks, "Y'think I give a damn 'bout those old geezers with their rules right now? All I care 'bout is 'aving you, 'ere an' now."

Simon's free hand reaches up, his fingers lightly tracing your jawline. "I'll show you 'm fuckin' man enough to 'ave you."

While you are speechless, he adds for you to better understand. "It's just you an' me in 'ere."

"But—" you squeak.

Simon's hand moves quick to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"No," he growls, "We don't need to follow the rules in 'ere. We don't need anyone's permission. We could be loud, we could be rough. No one would ever know."

No one... Would know.

He leans in, his lips hovering just centimeters from your ear. "Just us in 'ere. You tellin' me you'd rather 'ave some stupid fuckin' toy over a man that can fill you up all night long?" His hand slides down to your throat, holding you tenderly but firmly, "Just say yes, love."

You whimper in delight, his eyes flickering down to your shifting thighs.

"Yeah," he purrs, his hand angling your head up against the wall. "Y'know you want it. Y'want me."

You want him more than sleep. You want him more than some real fucking food.

"Y'know you don't need anythin' else but me t' fuck you stupid."

"Yes," you moan.

Simon's eyes gleam with approval, his grip on your chin tightens slightly.

"That's good fuckin' girl," he growls.

He licks your neck through the mask, chest expanding with a deep inhale that crushes you to the wall.

"Say y'want me," he demands in a gravelly whisper.

What is thinking? Why would you have to think?

"Want you s'bad," you whine.

"Fuckin' right you do," he mutters.

His other hand drifts down, slowly tracing down your body until it lands on your waist, shoving you into the shower stall. For a moment, you thought you were going to get a little groping, made a knead here and there. But no, you're just standing like a dumbass in the empty shower stall.

"Strip." He growls.

Your skin erupts with gooseflesh in the bare shower shall, his gaze unwavering as he waits for his private show. He steps closer, his own clothes still on, thick arms folding over his chest.

"Slowly," he commands, "Show me what's gonna be mine."

You pinch the hem of your cargos, and then switch to your shirt.

What the hell do you even start with?

"Trousers first," Simon instructs roughly.

He stands there, still dressed, but his eyes devouring every inch of you as you slowly pop the button.

You slowly shimmy the waist band over the swell of each hip, pushing down to your ankles. Simon's breaths grow heavier as you flick the material off your feet his eyes transfixed on the movement.

"Thas it. Bra next," he commands, velvety smooth, "Nice n' slow. I want t'see all o' you."

Bra? Bra next? Why not your shirt?

You kick the cargos away, your shirt barely covering over your panties as you unclasp the bra through your shirt and maneuver it out from one of the sleeves to hold it in the tip of your finger.

Simon's eyes zero in on your pebbled nipples and pretty panties, the thin fabric doing little to hide your curves.

"Good girl," he purrs, "Now come 'ere."

You're... You're not even done. He motions with his fingers for you to approach him, his eyes dark with need.

"Do the thing," you manage out.

"The thing?" he grunts in an enticing voice, taking a step forward as you gesture to your mouth and nose.

He reaches up and pulls the mask to his nose, revealing his lips.

"Is this what y'want, love?" he asks, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you breathe as you wet your lips.

Those would taste so good. You just know it.

"Y'want to see m' mouth, huh?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corners of those now revealed lips that show his canines, a chipped tooth, his lower face in general in its scarred glory, "Y'want to see what I can do, love?"

He closes the remaining space between you in a single stride, grabbing you by the back of the neck and yanking you forward.

His free hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with dark hunger that makes your pussy pulse.

His mouth descends on yours, his lips claiming yours in a fiercely possessive kiss. You moan lowly, one of your arms circling his thick waist. He's burning up, hot and sweaty under his clothes that reek of his natural musk.

One of your curious hands ventures down, squeezing at his ass. He breaks the kiss with a surprised grunt, a coy smirk.

"Naughty, that," he huffs, "But I like it. My turn,"

The world before you lunges back, his mouth descending on your neck. He sucks and bites at the sensitive skin, his teeth leaving red marks in their wake.

His hands have a rough exploration, sliding down your skin, pausing just above the waistband of your panties to slide in to the globes of your ass. You stand in your tip toes to lean into him, whimpering at his rough gropes and kneading.

His mouth continues it's path down your neck, his teeth grazing the tops of your covered tits as his hands roughly squeeze and massage your perfect ass.

"Look at you," he growls, "Squirmin' an' I haven't even started."

He pushes your ass up, looking over your shoulder to watch it bounce. His hands slide lower, pulling the elastic of your panties down slightly, "Look at this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're fuckin' soaked through."

And he's right.

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid that sticky mess thats unbearably uncomfortable. He tuts, delivering a slap to your ass.

"Tryin' to get yourself off, love?" he purrs, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties.

You can't tell the difference between the onyx color from his pupils, you can hardly look at his eyes when his mouth is right there and his own tits are in your face. God, you want to nibble on those chapped lips, feel those fat biceps squeeze you as his hips snap on the backs of your thighs—

He backs you up, his hard cock pressing against you through his jeans, "Y'want it?"

"Yes!" You mewl.

"Thas what I like to 'ear, love," he husks, his fingers playing with the crotch of your panties. "Get that shirt off, wanna see those pretty tits finally."

You squirm, pulling your shirt up and off and throwing it somewhere that doesn't matter right now.

"Perfect," he rasps, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, "These are fuckin' nice,"

You arch, eyes rolling at the nice kneading to your sore flesh of being stuck in a bra all day. To your displeasure, freezing water sprays down your body and your uncomfortable groan bounces off the walls until the water warms up.

He's still fully dressed though, his clothes sticking to his muscular frame, accentuating every hard muscle and scar.

"Shower's a bit shitty," he says, his eyes raking your body. "But we don't 'ave to wait for that to get goin'."

Your panties have disappeared into his pocket, you follow the way his fingers shove it in— Your eyes divert to that large bulge behind the zipper.

"I know what y'want," he grunts, his hand moving to the belt and zipper.

Simon pulls down his zipper, the metal teeth parting revealing a black pair of boxers, which does little to hide the already impressive outline of his hard cock nudging up against the waist band.

He pushes his jeans down his thick thighs, his body still clothed in a tight black shirt and underwear drenched in water.

Your saliva glands burn at the sight of his happy trail plunging past the waist band, eyeing that nice size you only got a little feel of on your leg—

"Want a closer look?" he purrs, his hand slowly palming the base of his covered cock, precum bleeding out from the thin fabric on his thigh.

You make a face at him, your face burning with embarrassment

"What's the matter, love? You shy now?" he says with a smirk, his hand continuing to slowly palm and squeeze, "Y'were all full o' attitude today."

His head tilts mockingly, stroking himself for you, enticing you. Pinch yourself again, this might actually be a dream—

"Go on," he rasps, "Feel me."

You follow a trail of water down to his shirt clinging to his body, his drenched happy trail, and then the outline of his cock.

With one hand, you tug the waist band forward, clenching as he sucks in a breath that makes his abs tense.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear, "Go on," he husks, "Take it out, love."

He leans back, watching you intently, waiting for you to do as told. Maybe you do like to be told what to do in this context. With your other, you pull him free with your eager hand.

He moans, he fucking moans.

"Thas it, love," he husks out, his voice a little strangled. "Feel me up."

His hands rest on the wall behind you, caging you in. He hips rock into your hand, each stroke of your fist pulling the foreskin back.

"You're so big," you whimper.

Simon lets out a deep, gravelly groan as you speak. It just might be the hottest sound you've ever heard. Right next to the time he was lifting heavy dumbbells, letting all those grunts and growls loose.

He looks down at you, his gaze burning with lust and need, "You want it, baby?" he asks, his hips grinding against your hand harder, "Want this big dick?"

"Want it so bad, Si," you mumbled against his lips, your tongue darting out to lick his teeth.

his mouth claiming yours in a rough, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately tangles with yours, his teeth biting and tugging at your lower lip.

"I know you do," he grunts, his tongue slipping past your lips to slide against yours before speaking again, "You've been eye-fucking me all afternoon, love."

His hands start to wander along your body, mapping your curves with rough caresses,

"You're gonna get it," he husks.

One of his hands moves down to your hip as he moves lower, his mouth following the curve of your throat, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses and bites.

"Want m'cock in that pretty pussy? Or your mouth?"

Where do you fucking think, smart guy?

"In me, inside me, please," you mewl.

His massive paws squeeze your hips to spin you around, planting your hands against the wall.

"Bend over," he growls, his eyes roaming over your body, "'M gonna give you what y'want."

His hands on your hips start to maneuver your body, making you arch your back and hips out.

He runs a hand up your spine, "So pretty," he murmurs as he takes in the sight of your body bent and on display for him.

He steps up behind you, his body flush against your back, his clothes still fucking on and wet and sticking to your body.

"Gonna fill ya up nice n' good," he sucks on his teeth with a low growl, "Been thinkin' o' me all day 'aven't you?"

His hips rock against your ass slowly, his bare cock rubbing on your supple skin.

His hands massage your ass, kneading and squeezing the flesh as you lean on your forearms, moaning as the blunt head notches to your dripping slit.

"Want m'hands all over you," Simon growls against your flesh, his rough palms skimming over your curves, "Mm, relax, yeah? Nice n' easy— Yeah, thas a good girl,"

His hips do a slow, deliberate grind, rocking into you to make room for him as he moves his lips along the curve of your shoulder.

There's slow shallow thrusts, working you open until he takes a deep stroke down to the base. Fuck, he's thick all over, heavy even inside your walls. If you had the brain power, you'd reach below and hold his balls.

"You're so damn gorgeous," he husks darkly, his breath hot against your skin, "I wanted this since I first saw you."

He's so intense he's burning a hole through you with his gaze, his hands still exploring your body, worshiping every curve, every dip, every inch of you.

His hands slide down to the front of your thighs, coaxing your legs further apart, opening you up for him.

"I knew I wanted you the moment you walked in," he breathes, "I knew you'd feel amazing under my hands."

Your cheek presses into the shower wall with a strangled moan,

"S'deep,"

Simon growls at your moan and pushes into you with more force, his hands squeezing your ass to yank you back, spearing you over and over on his cock.

"Fuckin' knew you'd feel s'tight an' good,"

His hand presses on your lower tummy, mouth hot and panting against your shoulder blade. He grabs the back of your hand, his fingers threading through yours and pressing it against the wall.

"Take it, take—this—cock,"

You choke out a moan, slumping against the wall, "please, so close, so close—"

"You gonna come f'me, huh?" he asks, his voice raw and breathless.

It's a lovely sound on him.

"Yes, please, wanna come, haven't came this fast before—" you beg.

He lets out a ragged, possessive growl at your words, his hips piston roughly against your ass, full balls swinging on your clit over and over.

"Come on, pet," he snarls, deft fingers twirling tight circles around your clit.

You whimper loudly, hands sliding down the slick shower walls, hips straining for him as you come hard with a broken mewl.

"That's it, fuck—"

He breaks off in a gutteral moan, hips stilling as he spills inside you. Simon catches you as your legs buckle out from under you, scooping you up against his chest to lean you back against the wall.

You don't even know what just happened in the span of 5 minutes. He's panting hard, his heart pounding against your back.

"Fuck," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Fuckin' perfect, love,"

You smile lazily back at him, pawing at his shoulders to pull him in a soft languid kiss, his lips claiming yours in soft, sweet caresses. He melts against your touch, the fierce need from earlier receding now that you're sated. He returns your lazy kiss, his hands gently roaming up and down your back.

"Bloody hell," he mutters against your lips, "Fuckin' perfect, woman." He nips at your neck, "'M not done yet."

Looks like he is the cure to your sleeping problem.

[ledesaid]

Seeking a Father for Saturday ►○◙◄ #2

“Are you sure this is necessary?”

“Absolutely!”

“But I don’t recognize myself in the mirror... I feel like one of the kids who used to tease me in school...”

“Wrong, if you dress with style, nobody is going to bother you.”

Billy tried to undo his styled hair back to its classic natural fall, but Guy stopped him and added even more gel.

Billy just sighed. Defeated, what he did for a double gift and a mountain of sweets...

In addition to his hair, he now had an American football jacket that fit him, luckily in a yellow tone... A Green Lantern t-shirt and some bulky sneakers. Oh, and some red glasses to complete the "style."

It was almost time, and Billy had butterflies in his stomach. He was so nervous that he didn’t want anyone to discover him, but he wanted to go!

“Courage and willpower, Cheeky!”

“Billy.”

“Is that your name, kid?”

“Something like that.”

“Great, because it sounds just like what I’d call my fake son. You can call me whatever you want, kid, just remember it will haunt you forever.”

“I don’t understand...”

“Remember” —Guy placed his fingers behind his ears and a pair of black pointy protrusions came to mind. Right, Batman.

“No fear of success, Cheeky. Remember, stand straight, puff out your chest, and laugh loudly. You’re a Gardner for the next eight hours!”

“I’m Billy...”

“Gardner! Cheeky! Visualize it and go for it!”

“Eat me, mother earth,” his magic common sense was telling him.

The welcome committee was headed by Superman and Wonder Woman, the dream of every kid if you were going to meet your superheroes...

Well, Billy wasn’t going to admit that seeing his companions in his kid form, without the height and confidence of Captain Marvel, made him feel like a fan boy. And no, he wasn’t jumping for joy as he approached the other heroes... Well, maybe he was...

“H-hi!”

Billy awkwardly extended a hand to Superman.

It was exhilarating. This meet and greet was the best thing in his life as Billy!

“Hello, little one. Guy surprised us a lot when he told us you were coming. What’s your name?”

“Billy, sir Superman, sir!” He spoke loudly, not on purpose or because of Guy’s advice, but... he was shaking Superman’s hand as Billy Batson!

No, wait, wait, Billy Gardner, yes, yes, remember to stay in character.

“He’s quite the fan,” Guy started laughing openly, but Billy didn’t blame him...

“I am, sir!”

Superman, cheerful as he was, sat him on his shoulder and carried him to the cafeteria.

“Are you also a fan of Wonder Woman, Billy?”

Diana accompanied them, walking behind along with Guy.

“Of course, Miss Wonder Woman, you are very amazing and powerful!”

The walk to the cafeteria felt so short when Superman put him down. Billy was going to remember this, it was the dream of his life! Billy with the League without repercussions of being handed over to social services!

“Go ahead, Billy, the program will start shortly, you can take whatever you want from the dessert bar.” This time Wonder Woman tried to ruffle his hair, but the gel made it impossible.

“Behave badly, Cheeky!”

Billy didn’t see the disapproving looks they gave Guy, because hearing that he had free pass was the only thing that mattered as he darted towards the goodies. Finally, he could have the feast he had dreamed of. His champion form couldn’t taste, and taking food to his hideout made him feel uncomfortable.

Everything tasted so delicious!

He didn’t stop until the second cake and the third slice of pizza when he noticed sharp eyes on his back. There were only children aged four to ten who were studying him... He supposed it was part of being one of the older ones in the room and, yes, maybe the floating plates around him.

“Are you magical?”

And Billy coughed his spirit out.

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t expect to be confronted so soon by this blond kid...

“N-no... Not that...”

Billy darted towards the door in a desperate attempt to avoid more questions he wasn’t going to answer. He didn’t expect someone with such sharp eyes; a bit of air would give him more ideas... As he supposed, the door wouldn’t open and in his five-minute crisis he practically fried the circuits of the entrance console. It was an accident, his magic occasionally played tricks on him...

But everything went out of control when two blurs shot out of the cafeteria followed by a small legion of superpowered kids...

Did it count as a breakout? Did Billy just cause a breakout?

The sound of Black Canary’s screams in the distance said yes.

And the small champion of magic hoped to grab a juice and sit to wait for his scolding, but two arms grabbed him by surprise...

Was it the blond kid? Were those gelatinous magic arms?!

“Super Sons, attack!”

Someone shouted, and yes, Billy was dragged as the ringleader of the breakout and he wasn’t laughing, just awkwardly enjoying... Well, he was laughing; he had just seen Hawkman unconscious on the ground and Elastic Man tied in a knot. The chaos was unbelievable, yet Billy couldn’t help but find the situation both hilarious and surreal.

Was that Black Canary stuck to the ceiling?

Oh, holy moly! He’s in big trouble...

How much damage could a group of excited and unsupervised kids do?

“So, you are magical?”

“Yes, something like that...”

“Arthur Curry Junior, nice to meet you.”

“Billy B-Gardner, nice to meet you too, Arthur.”

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

Parte 1

[lucycore]

Joker vs Batman

How it would be dating one of them, kinda a comparison. I won't specify on 1 Batman and Joker, just in general as a character from the universe.

☁️Fluffy fluff fluff ☁️ (If u want a smut version let me know! (I will do it anyway, u guys know me))

_

First the Joker: 🃏

How u met: Well...Not like you'd imagine..You randomly crossed paths, frightened by seeing him cuz you hated him and didn't feel safe at all in your own city. You caught his attention with your eyes full of fear, he thought you're easy to manipulate and fear would benefit him. So he kidnapped you, held you captivity to turn you into his puppet that he could use for his plans, wishes, missions and such.

Later in time you developed the Stockholm syndrome and kinda fell attached to him. When that happened he freed you from captivity cuz he knew you wouldn't try to escape anymore.

Lets see..Toxic asf

Manipulative

Allows you to cuddle him but tries to quickly push you off

What he does tho is give you love if he needs something.

Very narcissist (I know what I'm talking about I have a dad like that)

Let me explain: He cuddles, kisses you, a lot of gifts, words of affection and such only if he needs you for something.

Which is a popular way narcissists use to manipulate and get you to do whatever they want.

Kinda abusive at time, especially if things don't go as planned for him or if you talk back

Shit I don't envy you at all being with him

Tho later in time he develops kind of an attachment

He never felt that before, he would try to drink it away, talk it away, ignore it or even curse at it but nothing helps

He falls in love on his own psychopathic way but hey, at least he won't treat you like his puppet anymore.

He lets you cuddle and kiss him and doesn't rush to push you off. He somewhere enjoys it

He for the first time feels something. Like warmness whenever you're with him.

He puts you second, even before batman. Obviously for the Joker he is his own number 1 but after that you.

And who knows, maybe he will change his mind and put you first. Let's wait and see.

Batman to Joker: "Let her go, stop using her as a puppet and take me. I'm right here."

Joker: *laughs at him* "Oh but she doesn't want to go. She chose her side."

Batman to you: "So he manipulated you to believe he really loves you, huh? He doesn't. He is just using you for his personal gain."

Joker: "Wrong. I would burn the world for one of her tears"

Now the Batman 🦇:

How you met: I'll give you 2 options. First one being: You were invented to one of his parties and when he saw you he couldn't take his eyes off of you and just had to hit you up, or else he wouldn't forgive himself for missing such an opportunity. Your outfit, hair, make up and body did it to him pretty hard.

Second option: Joker and the bat had a fight again and while you were trying to run home, he hit you with a hard object which was meant to fly in Jokers direction but that maniac used you as a shield, not caring for your innocence in that fight or that it might have killed you. The bat quickly rushed to you not caring about the Joker escaping. He would usually just call an ambulance or so and continue his fight but he couldn't let you be like that. Something about you warmed his heart. He picked you up, brought you to his apartment and waited for the ambulance. Poor guy felt so bad.

Okay so now that we have this settled let's continue with the headcanons.

Shit that guy is romantic asf

Charming, warm hearted and carrying

Would buy you everything you want no matter how expensive

You're his top 1 priority

Would do everything to keep you save

Tho one day the Joker kidnapped you to use you for his plans and against the bat to blackmail him or so.

That was like a death wish from that clown

Batman couldn't handle his anger and did everything to save you and keep you save

He swore to never let it happen again to you

He loves your cuddles and kisses and does it for hours in bed

He would love you as his housewife, cooking for him, taking care of him, stitching him up when needed and just do everything to make him relax after his batman things.

You to the bat: "How much do I mean to you, Bruce?"

Bat: "A lot but you already know."

You: "Define "a lot". "

Bat: "I would give you the whole world"

—

Yes this one didn't save..I was fr sitting there like: *the image of joker*

[avoicebehindthestars]

Why 90 minutes are not enough

As a hyperfixated fan, I will never believe 90 minutes will do Good Omens 3 justice.

The Second Coming storyline was intended as something of similar complexity to the Armageddon - and that took 5 hour-long episodes to tell. People who claim that many good films only take 90 minutes should consider that those production were always intended to last 90 minutes - that's the way they were plotted. Frankly, I can't think of a single satisfactory book-to-screen adaptation that would fit into this time restriction. Other STP books adaptations (Colour of Magic, Hogfather, Going Postal) are over 3hr long each. Stardust is over 2hr, and has a much simpler plot.

Added to that is the entire Aziracrow storyline that - let's be fair - is the main thing we all want to see done well. I'm afraid I'm not in the "just kiss and fuck off to South Downs" camp. That ending never held much meaning for me, because we all know how it ends. What I cared for was the path there - healing the heartbreak, becoming an "us". A simple apology dance, or "whatever let's just stop the world from ending" won't cut it. They're lovestory has so far been told through the fluffy, casual, seemingly unimportant details. The kiss isn't evidence of their love. It's the "don't go unscrewing the cap", "three tones of voice", "our car/our bookshop", it's the way Aziraphale's hand remains upright when Crowley's almost wraps over it, or how Crowley gives up the whole argument the moment he learns Aziraphale might be in danger. And through the flashbacks and minisodes now almost certainly lost.

And then there's the whole intellectual side of Good Omens. The show is often praised for being a wonderful queer representation, but not enough is said about it being autistic representation. Most ethereal and occult characters on GO are autistic-coded, but contrary to such productions as House MD, Sherlock, or Atypical, the plot doesn't revolve around them being ND. Instead, we, the neurodivergent recognise ourselves in tiny details - when Shax suddenly asks about hot water, when Muriel doesn't realise the Metatron has just offended them. But that isn't all. We, the ND people are drawn to the whole meta side of the show. The tarot card parallels, the mirror structure, the bloody camera filters! We are treated while being represented - this show is about us and for us. Have you read any of the mindblowing metas on tumblr…? Many people say that Good Omens is full of fillers that are easily omitted, but those parts are simply the ones whose significance the less invested audience didn't recognise.

Nothing of that will be left in 90 minutes. It can be a pleasant experience, an entertaining narrative of stopping the end of the world with, hopefully, a few sweet moments stolen away by Aziraphale and Crowley. And that's all. No nuance or riddles to be tracked over the next years, no grandeur of an epic story told with patience and no compromise. No narrative legacy to leave a mark in contemporary storytelling, the way season 1 did. No satisfying return on everything season 2 discreetly hinted (and how ridiculous that what was basically a backdoor prologue to the final arc will now be 3 times longer than the story itself!). And, above all, no carefully planned and slowly delivered healing.

Just. A 1.5h fantasy comedy to consume on a winter evening before moving on when they're gone forever.

[ahalal-uralma]

Technically they're not headaches though. This is the problem and where the misconceptions are laregly coming from. Headaches are only a symptom of Migraines and even then, they are not the same kind of headaches that a non-migraine sufferer deals with; besides that, they are not the only symptom of migraines experience either.

For one thing, a non-migraine sufferer who gets the occasional headache gets the relief of knowing they can consume a dosage of Tylenol/Ibuprofen/Aspirin and feel better in an hour or so and their symptoms seize and desist. Migraine sufferers often can't depend on these medications to help with pain and other symptoms and even once taking their proper medications those symptoms do not readily clear out as they can take a whole day or even days to do so.

Migraines are a neurological disorder that affects the nervous system. Migraines end up effecting a lot more than just the brain with discomfort/pain. They can impact eyesight, hearing, cognitive abilities, mobility, memory/focus, moods and digestive system functions. When I get migraines there's also after-math symptoms for when I'm recovering which varies. For instance, on a non-attack day I can eat a meal at a reg. portion and pace but on a migraine attack day I can take hours to finish a smaller meal as my motor skills slow down to that of snail. And don't get me started on yawning attacks.

Actually, I will as I'm already committed to ranting hoping it helps someone else out. My ability to absorb oxygen and regulate body temperature can get disrupted all day and there can be all sorts of symptoms that accompany this fact. Everything from hot flashes to yawning attacks. I call it yawning attacks because I yawn non-stop till my jaw hurts. And I'm not just talking for 3 minutes here. It's gone as long as 30 minutes before.

Aside from all of that, my migraines specifically come with auras (you can look it up what those are) and they tie hand-in-unloving-hand with my other mental health conditions like Complex PTSD for me. Without going into all of that excessively I have to seek additional treatment for Psychogenic Non-epileptic seizures. These are seizures that do not relate to Epilepsy although I was almost mistakenly believing I had this diagnosis due to confusion from a doctor. Before someone yells "malpractice" please keep it in mind they still had me referred to an Epilepsy Specialist to further evaluate me.

Also, many medical professionals are still poorly trained (or not at all) with regards to psychogenic seizures as I've run into medics before who had no idea what was even wrong with me as my seizures didn't present the absence symptoms they were taught to look for in epileptic patients. They were punching me in the chest not entirely sure if it would help and were taking a huge health risk. Basically, I get these seizures for two reasons 1) they're my mind's defense mechanism against severe anxiety and stress and 2) it's also my minds defense mechanism response to pain.

Complex PTSD is typically the root cause for this condition; however, my migraine attacks can trigger one of these seizures to happen as well. I have to be simultaneously on medication that treats mental health and migraines alike which is why simple pain killers would never suffice.

When a migraine sufferer say's "I have a migraine" what we really mean and should be saying is "I am having a migraine attack." Doing otherwise continues to enforce and enable ignorance around the condition which comes back negatively onto people needing treatment and accommodations for this condition.

And while I'm on that, if you suspect you are experiencing this condition then you need to be asking your primary care physician for a referral to a Neurologist who specializes with them (if you have not done so already and I'm saying 'you' as a neutral to anyone that is reading that could be impacted by this info.

You stand a high risk of having misinformation regurgitated by a medical professional who isn't fully trained to treat migraines. At best, they will prescribe something low-dosage and deemed safe universally as that's all they're permitted to do without ability to observe your neurological activity through xrays/cat scans/mris.

As a result, you could end up with a number of problems whether that's getting too weak a dosage or the entirely wrong medication. Without going into semantics about all the varieties of migraines and cutting it down to two of the simplest categories--a person that has migraines w/ auras will be less likely to benefit from a medication that helps a person that does not experience auras.

So, yea I'm used to people still calling them headaches and fighting frustration that goes along with their misconceptions.

(This question is for people diagnosed with migraines but they MUST have a diagnosis from a doctor.)

Does it bother you when people refer to your migraines as “headaches” even after you have stated it is a migraine?

Yes

No

Not applicable/See results

[two-person-job]

Alexis I've decided that I'm going to finish the pokemon ask you sent me tonight

[kyofsonder]

Brain in Daylight Hours: There is no mental or emotional space for writing. There are no new ideas, and no structure for old ideas.

Brain after Dark: Here's 38 new ideas, 3/4 of a structure, official permission to write, and -- oh. The only place to write in the dark is your phone? ... Never mind.