#you hang out with assholes but are ''better'' than them like no you're the company you keep sometimes girly

[helpimstuckinafandom]

So I decided to read Cruel Prince because one of these popular book series has to be good and Holly Black wrote Spiderwick so I trust her more than other authors and I'm 100 pages in and so far I like the protagonist her and her sisters are all valid for the way they feel in this situation and I'm mad curious to find out why Cardan is so cruel and all that I guess

[for-a-longlongtime]

Guilty Pleasure (1/7) - dbf!Joel x reader

You're home from college for the summer, staying with your parents in Austin, TX. So is your dad's best friend, Joel Miller. Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 42), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 2.3K A/N: If you know/follow me, you're probably just as shocked as I am to see a dbf!Joel fic by my hand. Totally get it if it's not your thing, please feel free to move on and skip this one. However - if you've read and enjoyed other fics by me, you may wanna give it a try! Submitting this also to @hellishjoel who is organizing the #hotdilfsummerchallenge (go check out all the other fics on her page!) 💜

series masterlist | main masterlist next chapter >

You don’t hate him. Not exactly. 

But he doesn’t need to know that. 

“I’m just so damn sick of him, you know? He thinks he’s so important and hot shit. People are fawning about him all the damn time, but he’s just my dad and an asshole,” you sigh to your best friend on the other end of the Facetime call. You’re in an Uber headed to your parents’ house, desperate for time away from school and your cheating ex. Your mom had been excited that you would be spending the summer break with them in Austin, and assured you that your father would be too. As IF. 

“I thought that maybe I could just relax, but no. Everything is about my dad again. He started this big... I don’t even know what. Project. Venture. Mission. Did you see it on tv? He’s on the news all the damn time.” Just the thought alone already makes you cringe, and you’re glad to see your friend nod at you, requiring no further explanation - she knows all about your father. “So I figured he won’t be in my way when I’m home. But now his friend Joel is staying at the house, too. The entire fucking summer. Who even does that?”

Your father and Joel had been friends for a long time, even before you were born, but you struggled to remember anything about him. He was a contractor, running his own company for quite a while now, and he had a brother named Tommy. ���They’re working on renovating his house, so he needed a place to stay. It’s not like he’ll be in your way, sweetheart. Most of the time he’s out working for clients,” your mom had assured you, reminding you there were more than just a few spare bedrooms at the house. But to you, it didn’t matter; he would be in the way. You just knew it. Ruining your summer. The last thing you needed was a constant reminder of your dad shaped as Joel, hanging around the house.

“No, I don’t know much about him - it’s been years since I saw him.” You wince as you see your parents’ house down the street, and for a moment you’re tempted to ask the Uber driver to circle around the block one more time. “Look, I’m here - I have to go. Wish me luck, call me later,” you plead with your friend as the car pulls up to the oversized driveway. It takes a moment to get all your suitcases out of the car, since the driver merely watches you with an impatient frown on his face, but then you’re finally stumbling towards the front door. 

It’s good to be in Austin again, but you haven’t missed the Texas heat - and humidity - for one bit. All you want right now is a pizza and a very, very strong drink to forget about the shitty trip you just had. But it seems not even that is in the cards for you right now, as nobody bothers to come to the door after you’ve loudly rang the doorbell. Not even on the third try. Just when you’re about to start screaming in frustration, you finally hear footsteps rushing down the hallway. 

“Mom, why did you not–,” you start when the door swings open, but the words immediately stick in your throat as you stare at the man in front of you. Tall, strong, and handsome, looking much better than he had any right to while being dressed in old jeans and a t-shirt - courtesy of those arms in particular, and a mouth that immediately gave you ideas about where he should put it. Jesus Christ. 

“Joel…?”, you finally manage when your brain seems to catch up with the low throb you’re feeling in your pussy. You do not remember your dad’s best friend looking this hot, or smelling so good - the sandalwood in his cologne reminds you of more than just a couple of debauched nights on campus that you’d had in the past year. But this was clearly not one of the frat boys that surrounded you during your classes or evenings out. This was a whole ass DILF, somewhere in his early forties like your parents, and it takes you effort to not whimper as you take him in.

Your core aches just from looking at him, a painful reminder of how many weeks it has been since you’d last had an orgasm that didn’t come from your own hand or a toy. Finding out that your piece of shit ex-boyfriend had been running around with several other girls had been a harsh way to end the semester, but at least it made you decide to spend the summer here in Texas. And that decision suddenly seems like a very, very good idea in retrospect.

It’s only when Joel says your name, an amused smirk playing over his face, that you realize you’ve definitely been staring at him. “Hey, kiddo. Been a while. D’you need a hand with that?”, he asks, and as you hear his drawl, you’re pretty damn sure that you’ve never heard that man sound anything like this. Goddamn. Hot in every way, it seems, it seems - you may have never before appreciated a Texas accent as much as you like his.

He doesn’t wait for your response, but simply takes over two of your suitcases and a duffle bag like they weigh nothing. “Nicole- I mean, your mom asked me to help you get you settled, she’s gonna be back in a few hours,” he says, keeping the front door open with one strong shoulder so you can get into the house. 

“Thanks, that’s so nice of you,” you manage to say as you follow him through the house, to your bedroom on the second floor. Walking behind him is the perfect excuse to take in his physique, and you freely let your eyes roam over his strong shoulders and broad back, and you can tell you’re getting wet just by looking at him. God, he’s fit. Especially for a guy who is probably twenty years older than you are. Those arms… Was he single? And - did that even matter, really? 

You realize that you must’ve zoned out and missed something he’s said to you, because he gives you a questioning look when you’re both standing in your childhood bedroom. The decoration, colors and posters are still familiar to you, but in a detached way, like you’re looking at them in a photo album of someone you used to be, in sharp contrast to who you are now and the man in front of you.

“I said that I hope I won’t be in your way this summer. Your parents are happy you’re staying here with them,” he says, then surprises you by giving you a friendly, brief hug. “It’s good to see you again, kid.” You gladly accept the hug, and you can’t help but bury your face against his shoulder for just a moment, inhaling his cologne and the underlying subtle tone of his natural scent. That’s when you internally make up your mind, right there on the spot.

You want him.

Now, and for the rest of the summer. 

And if that pissed off your father? All the better.

Once you’re sure he’s left the hallway outside of your room, you grab your phone and immediately google his name, checking through his online profiles. No mention of any wife or girlfriend. Perfect. When you find his Instagram, your jaw drops at the photos you see of Joel clearly working hard and dripping sweat. Almost pornographic, really.

With a few taps you send the pictures to your best friend, quickly adding the caption ‘sooo i decided I’m gonna be his inappropriately young gf for the summer’. Her response pings almost instantly, as you expected, a barrage of emojis and ‘OMG GIRL YESSSS GET THAT DILF’. You can’t help but chuckle as you send a quick message back to her, ‘more later xxx’, then turn off the sound on your phone.

For a moment you consider unpacking all of your luggage, which would definitely be the more practical thing to do. On the other hand, your parents are not gonna be home in the next few hours, and since Joel’s room didn’t seem too close to yours to overhear anything…

You sigh in relief when you find the silky bag in your luggage that stores your sex toys, and pull out your favorite clit sucker without a moment of hesitation. Quick and dirty, that’s what you need right now, you decide as you get onto the bed. After a moment of hesitation, you re-open Instagram and scroll back to Joel’s page, while you reach for your AirPods in the hidden pocket of your dress. 

His profile is clearly promotional for his company - Miller & Co -, and you vaguely recognize his brother Tommy in some shots, but fortunately the focus is mostly on him. When you click on Reels and see several videos of him at work, your heart starts racing, your mouth going dry while you feel the exact opposite happening in your panties. Fuck, he is so hot. If you thought the view you had while walking behind him was good, it sure is nothing compared to seeing him work on construction projects that show him flexing those muscles, jeans clinging desperately onto his thighs the way you would like your hands to do.

You’re stroking yourself already after the second video, and by the time you’re treated to the sight and sound of him lifting lumber with a grunt, you’ve got two fingers deep inside of your pussy. You whimper as you imagine he’s in your room watching you with those dark eyes. Your breathing grows heavy as you picture him getting on the bed, giving you that sexy smirk as he puts his head between your thighs so he can lick at your wetness. His bottom lip had tempted you from the start, and you just know it would feel so good as he’d circle your clit with his tongue. 

You can barely suppress a moan as your hips buck up hard, and you press the toy closer against yourself, thrusting your slick fingers faster as you chase the release that’s close - so so very close already. What if he buried that stubble against your thighs, urging your fingers out of yourself so he could lick them clean, his lips closing around your digits as he’d suck on you. Brown eyes filled with desire, reflecting how much you want him too, and then the push of his tongue inside your cunt as he starts to eat you out. 

You whisper his name quietly as your body starts to shake, hearing him moan contently as he works you up some more, then comes up for air, slipping two - no, three of his thick fingers roughly inside of you, just as demanding as his mouth is. “Good girl. Now come f’me.”

You gasp as the orgasm ripples through you, much faster than you expected, and you bury your face into your pillow so you won’t cry his name out loud. Before the waves of your orgasm have subsided, you flip yourself to your stomach as you keep the buzzing toy in place, grinding down harder on your fingers as you shudder from the overstimulation. Still you keep going, because it’s what Joel would do - you know it’s what he would want, tease you and push you to make you come again and again. 

He’d make you cry his name out loudly, until you’re writhing against him like a feral cat in heat, desperate as you’re begging him for his cock so he can fuck you into the mattress, claiming you and demanding to own every part of you. His sweaty heavy body covering yours, lips and teeth drawing more gasps from you, until your head becomes completely devoid of any thoughts, only able to focus on how good he’s making you feel - how his thickness is throbbing inside of you, going deeper than anyone has been before, and you know that he’s about to ruin you for any other men, because it’s never going to be better than it is with him.

As your body convulses and you’re about to come again, you suddenly hear your name being called loudly from downstairs - not by Joel, but the shriller sound of your mom’s voice as she’s looking for you. It takes everything you have to restrain yourself from yelling angrily at the interruption, your mind and body at war with each other for a second, and you bite your lip hard as you mentally grab onto the fantasy of Joel, unwilling to let go of it - of him. 

“Coming!,” you snap loudly, hoping that she won’t be able to hear the panting in your voice, or the buzzing toy in your hand. “Be right there!”

‘Good fucking girl. Such a dirty little slut for me,’ imaginary-Joel whispers at you, pounding into you, and you know he’s about to come too. “Give it to me again. Wanna feel you soak my cock,” the whisper changing into a low hiss that sends shivers down your spine. You bury your face even further into the pillow as you whine his name, begging him for more, to pump his seed into you and fill you up. He laughs, the sound hoarse and taunting, and then his hand grabs a hold of your hair and tugs your head back up. “No hiding. You scream my name when I make you come, you hear me?”, he grunts at you - and you bite your lip as you come hard again, soaking your fingers for a second time as the orgasm rocks you so much harder than the first one did.

Fuck. FUCK. You need him, every part of him, so goddamn bad. 

next: part 2 >

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates for updates when new chapters drop!

A/N II: Thank you @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @lotusbxtch @sin-djarin @mountainsandmayhem

@qveerthe0ry @perotovar for encouraging me to write a wild idea that suddenly came to mind. This came together shockingly fast with ideas and feedback from all of them, so thank you babes for supporting and enabling me! Fic title is obviously snagged from Chappell Roan's 'Guilty Pleasure'!

[sunkeji]

Finding out you're a girl

Savanaclaw Octavinelle

a/n: This is my first post about Twst so I hope I didn't make them too ooc. Lmk if I should change anything. I'll link the other fics when they're done too.

Leona

Leona probably knows it instinctively. But with the knowing looks he gives you, he definitely knows. He doesn't say anything about it but becomes slightly flirtier with you the longer you're acquainted. He treats you way better than he does the guys. Him being an asshole decreases significantly when you're around (maybe to get in your good graces) and becomes a little bit protective of you.

 

Ruggie

I feel like everyone in Savanaclaw kind of knows that you're a girl. Like with their animal senses or whatnot, they should be able to figure it out. He offers you his food and sticks around more often because he likes your company. He loves hanging out with you because it gives him a good reason to escape from Leona and spend time with you.

 

Jack

Jack is no exception; he caught on pretty early. Another one that becomes more protective of you because he knows what can go through a harmonal boy's head. He becomes softer and less gruff when you're around. Sticks around you more just in case you need help if you get in a tight spot. He admires how strong your character is despite being magicless and in a different world.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Sleeping with Spiders

Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss

"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed. 

There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway. 

“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy. 

Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.

Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room. 

"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”

"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”

“Steve,” Steve offers.

“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”

They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.

Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.

Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.

They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend. 

“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”

Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?” 

“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine." 

And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.

Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open. 

Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with. 

"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."

Steve nods, "That's cool."

"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds. 

Steve points to himself, "Business." 

"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous." 

Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."

That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake. 

"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday. 

"I'm coming up!" Eddie says. 

"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back. 

"It's my bed!" 

"I think not!" 

"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!" 

This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.

But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.

 

Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.

Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.

Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses. 

“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.

Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”

Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here. 

What else is new? 

Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely. 

Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face. 

"This okay?" Steve asks. 

Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this. 

Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care. 

He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now. 

Eddie rolls on top of him. 

Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?" 

Eddie cackles, "No." 

Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"

"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning. 

Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[kimingyuslover]

The call

synopsis : you never thought that one call could leave you in a tearful night.

word count : 759

pairing : lee seokmin x afab!reader

warnings : reader is mentioned wearing a dress, angst (sorry not sorry), tears.

a.n : i feel like i need more angst in my life & i want to create a oneshot that will have the readers bawling their eyes out. idk to you guys, but i cried a little while writing this.

the white mini dress you wore is adoring to everyone's eyes. you decided that it was time for you to have a date again, after your last one, which is 3 weeks ago.

the night ends so quickly, the date went absolutely wonderful, you have to thank Mingyu– who arranged this date, with lots of food.

"yeah, the date went so excellent! i think we'd have another date next week" you say as you start to open your laptop to finish the proposal you've been writing for ages.

"should i expect a barbecue dinner next month? you probably ended with this guy" Mingyu said on the other side, making you let out a giggle.

"i don't know, but maybe—

you can't figure the name of the contacts on your phone, and you can't remember whose this number belongs to, but you answer it because you think it's maybe something important?

you got cut off by the ringtone from your phone, someone calls you, "wait a sec gyu, i need to pick up another call" which Mingyu answered with, "yeah sure, call me again right after that"

"hello?" you let out.

"y/n," the other person replied. you know who this is, and you're planning to hang up the call, but before you can do it, he speaks again.

"i'm sorry! please don't hang up, i need to let this out, my hearts feels heavy if i have to carry this every day." he said, you replied nothing, and he take that as a yes, he can speak to you.

"i want you to know that, i still love you. i messed up a big time while we're still in a relationship, i'm sorry that i don't take the blame even though it's my fault, i'm sorry i neglected you, neglected our relationship. i need you to know that my heart still belongs to you. i tried, i really tried to leave you alone because that's what a good ex should do, right? but when i heard you already go on dates, my heart started to aches so much that it really brought tears to my eyes. that night, i had a few drinks because of the pressure my company put me in, i shouldn't lashed it out on you that night. i'm not in my right state of mind. my mind wanders around when you leave me, i feel miserable, i feels like shit, an asshole, a prick, bastard, and other terms that i used to believe i'm not one of them. i promise your mom to always protect you, but in the end, i was the one who hurt you," you heard him letting out a silent sobs. you don't want to cut him. you feel your own tears start to huddle in your eyes.

"i never made any attempt to make time for you because i think, i need space where i'm alone, far from you, and of course, i was wrong. i never want you to be far from me, i want you to hold me close every time I had a shitty day like you used to before my work schedule demanding every time i have and i start to distancing myself from you. i regret every single second when i'm thinking about what i did to you, i never deserved you, and you deserve so much more than me," now, it's your time to let out your silent sobs.

"Everyday, every night when i see my apartment, all i see is you. every corner of this building held it memory of you, i missed you, i missed us before everything happens" notices your sobs, he pauses for awhile.

"you don't need to answer me, i just want to let you know that every inch of me loves you until now. you deserve a man who can make his time for you, who can control his emotion better than me," he stop for a second, "who can love you better than i do"

that's your breaking down point. you try to speak, "seokmin, i'm sorry"

"it's not your fault. it's mine, it's never yours, i made us this way, so i have to accept it. " he chuckles dryly, and not long after that, he hangs up the call.

minutes later, you received a text from the same number

i'm not drunk or tipsy. everything that comes out of my mouth is proof that i, in fact, is still mourning for our relationship.

i hope you'll have a good life, away from me, goodbye, my love.

[johnwickb1tsch]

THE DEVILS' TRIANGLE

A Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (& now John Constantine) Imagine Part 8 by:

@treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @johnwickb1tsch and @tammykelly (with honorary dream weavers / shit stirrers @lilspookymeh & @kurai-hono-blog 😘)

Warnings: So many dead doves! Do not eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. You're in good company here. 😘 Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, dubcon, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

ALL CHAPTERS

PART 8

Johnwickb1tsch:

"Come on, we've got to get you somewhere safe," says John Wick, trying to hustle you down the street.

"No," you protest, resisting. "We have to find John and Tex. They might need us."

You were skeptical about demons and the occult, God and the Devil and everything in between, at first. But after hanging out with Constantine, you'd seen a few things. Just enough that you had sense enough to be scared. You clutch the protection amulet around your neck that John had given you. You'd laughed at him at the time, but now you were glad to have it.

"They're both grown men, honey. I told Tex to leave you alone. This is what he gets."

Suddenly you're angry all over again. "Oh, you told him, huh?" You push John's chest--its like having a disagreement with a brick wall. "Do you have any fucking idea how much I've missed you? How it destroyed me to be thrown away like an old shirt you had no more use for?"

He is still as a mountain as he holds your wrists, preventing you from striking him, but not hurting you. Those dark eyes bore into you, through you. How does he not see you? "Y/n...I did what I thought was best for you."

"But you didn't fucking ask me! Or at least, you didn't listen! But you know what, it doesn't matter right now. John had to put some kind of a curse on Tex in self defense, because Tex is such an asshole, and now they're both in danger!"

"A what?"

You pause to think, and you're pretty sure you know where Constantine would go. There's an old church a few blocks over. Consecrated ground. It's where he's always told you to go if something came after you. It would be a good place to regroup.

"Come on," you say, pulling John in the opposite direction down the street.

For once, he actually listens, a shadow at your back ready to protect you, but he lets you lead the way.

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

The old building looks like it should probably be condemned. It's definitely seen better days, and hasn't seen a congregation in at least a decade. However, the ground is still holy, untouchable for the Unclean, and when you burst through the doors after John has already shot down three demons, you are so relieved to see Constantine and Tex sitting in some of the old pews. They definitely look like they've been through a battle, disheveled and beat up. You wonder how much was demons, and how much they did to each other.

"Thank God!" You run to them, and Tex's expression rises and falls as you go to Constantine, pressing your mouth to his in what you know is a needy kiss, assuring yourself as much as him.

He smirks down at you, well aware of the death- stares he's receiving from both sides. It's possible he makes a show of grabbing your ass, just to rub it in to your two Ghosts.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. You?"

You nod. Then Constantine rolls his eyes upward, over your head to John Wick. He is quietly forbidding in his black suit, standing watch by the door. "That your other Ghost?"

With a tired sigh you nod.

"Ghosts? The fuck is Harry Potter here talkin' about?"

The urge to punch Tex or kiss him is strong as ever.

"The two of you ghosted me, didn't you?"

"Baby girl, I missed you. That's why I came to get you." He shoots a telling glare over at John Wick, who only returns a disinterested look. Maybe the master assassin had been keeping tabs on you, but he hadn't shared everything with Tex, it seems.

Constantine looks between the two assassins, then you, with an infuriating smirk.

"What?" you demand, more than a little exasperated with everthing.

"Nothing. Just seems like you have a type, angel."

You can't even argue.

"Angel?" Tex snorts at your pet name. "Does he even know you?"

"Does he ever shut up?" asks Constantine, raising one dark eyebrow.

"No, never," you sigh.

There is a howl outside that lifts every hair on your body, an unearthly sound that makes your fingers grip in Constantine's suit jacket.

"What are we going to do?"

"Good question." Constantine tugs you over to a different pew, sitting down with his arm draped around your shoulders. His message is obvious, and it's new to you. Constantine rocks your world on the nightly, but he's never been possessive before. It really shouldn't, but it ignites a warmth in your chest that makes you feel ridiculously, stupidly, giddy inside.

"Seems like we're at an impasse, gentlemen."

Tex frowns. John seems less than impressed.

"Sorry, what's stopping us from killing you and taking her?"

You tense, watching the gun John holds loosely at his side. You know Wick can move like lightning, and your heart leaps into your throat. You are ready to fling yourself between them if you have to.

"John..."

"It's ok, sweetheart. He's not going to kill me."

"No offense, but I've heard that before from lots of people who are dead now."

Constantine snorts. "You can't kill me, because I've put a curse on your friend here, and you need me to lift it."

"So lift it."

"Can't. Got a friend who can though. You'll never see him without me."

You know Constantine must be talking about the famed and powerful bokor, Papa Midnite. A chill runs down your spine. You've met him precisely once. He was polite--and hot as fuck, if you're being honest--but you knew he was not to be trifled with.

"So let's go, then," says Tex, his patience lost about three dead demons ago.

"Hold up, Howdy Doody. We got to talk first."

"Bout?"

Constantine nods down at you. "Maybe I don't know all the details, but I've heard enough. And as much as I've enjoyed filling the hole you assholes left--I can't let you hurt her again. I'll let the demons feast on your souls first."

Almost on cue, that demonic howling sounds again outside, and a chorus of hellish hissing rises. It sounds like you are surrounded.

Tex leaps to his feet. "You smug little fucker--"

"Shut up, Tex." It's Wick who shushes his friend. "What do you propose?"

Finally, Constantine looks down at you. "It depends on what she wants."

Your mouth drops open at that. You have to decide that, now? As though he can read your thoughts, and sometimes you're convinced he can, Constantine pays you an infuriating smirk.

"I...don't want them dead. Or...devoured."

"That's a start, I guess. Do you ever want to be with them again?"

Your eyes go wide as saucers. The simple answer, of course, is yes. You love them. You miss them.

However, answers are never so simple, with your Boys involved. Like an idiot, you dare to look at them, taking in Tex's hang-dog puppy-eyed look, and John's quiet but intense yearning. Then, of course, there is the man beside you, who despite his aloofness and his prickly manner, has been nothing but good to you.

You've never said it out loud, but the truth is, you love him too.

"I don't know."

"Yeah. I figured." He smirks at you, inexplicably smug, and you kind of want to smack him too.

Which always leads to interesting things, with John Constantine, your stupid lady parts sing out. Jesus Christ on a cracker, what a fucking mess.

"You got a point, Gandalf?" demands Tex, paying a nervous look to one of the cracked stained glass windows. Ominous dark shapes are flying past outside. This is not good.

"I want you assholes to accept a Spell of Submission to her."

"The fuck does that mean?" demands Tex with a thunderous frown. John remains neutral as he listens.

"It means, if you ever try to make her do something she really doesn't want to do, again, she can say the magic words to fuck up your world. Pardner."

"No fuckin' way," Tex scoffs.

At the same time, John answers, "I'll do it."

Your eyes meet across the aisle of the church. That he would take such a leap of faith-- for you-- drops the floor out from under you.

Tex, of course, interrupts your moment of soul- searching eye contact with John.

"Wait, so we could be havin' an argument and she can drop me dead with the evil eye or somethin'?"

Constantine snorts. "It would probably serve you right, Hee Haw, but no. Cause you extreme pain? Yes. But it comes at a price. All magic does. I know she wouldn't use it lightly."

It would potentially even the playing field quite a bit between you three. The balance of power amongst you had never been fair.

"What's a matter, Tex? You don't trust me?"

"Only as far a I could throw you, darlin'." But his hawk-like look softens for you after a moment, and then surprisingly he grins. "Got me over a barrel now, don't you?"

You shift a little in your seat, so that you're flush against Constantine. The solid line of his lithe warmth beside you is anchoring. You glance up at him, finding he looks arrogantly amused-- and surprisingly, a little sad. If you didn't know him so well you would have missed it, like ripples in a pool.

You turn back to Tex, an uneasy excitement thrumming in your chest.

"If the curse fits?"

The cowboy sighs, frowning at the hellspawn waiting to rend his flesh and eat his soul outside. "Alright, fine. Guess you might as well take it all." He can't look at you while he says it, but you sense his surrender-- or at least, his resignation. It's not exactly a victory, but it's something, and it pulls at your heartstrings.

"Alright, wizard boy. Hoodoo me up."

Constantine snorts, leaping up from the bench. "First we've got to get out of here. You're going to want to cover your eyes." He starts muttering an encantation and walking in a circle, sprinkling a powder on the ground from his pocket. "When this goes off we'll have ten minutes. Either of you assholes have a car nearby?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Hope you like to drive fast."

His chanting gets louder, and you see he's produced a lighter. He never uses it for cigarettes anymore, but portable fire to a magician has its uses. You can tell he's reaching the crescendo of his spell, and you scrunch your eyes closed. Even through your eyelids you see the flash, and the boom of a magical fireball that should have burned you all to dust.

However, only the things outside incinerate, their agonized cries echoing through the cavernous stone building.

"Let's move."

****

As it turns out, John Wick can drive very fast.

You already knew this, of course. Constantine, however, seems to be regretting his life choices as Wick weaves in and out of traffic, trying to find a hand hold as you are whipped around in the cramped back seat of the vintage Chevelle. He clenches his square jaw and glares daggers as Wick makes a quick left juke, the force of it pushing Constantine into the side of the car furthest from you.

You think it's a coincidence, until you meet John Wick's eyes in the rear-view mirror, and you see a glimmer of amusement. On anyone else, it would be all-out gut-busting laughter. You open your mouth to tell him to play nice, but Tex interrupts you—just like old times.

"3 o'clock," barks the cowboy assassin from the shotgun seat. It's fitting, because he quite literally has a sawed-off shotgun in his lap, something from Constantine's cabinet of goodies with arcane symbols scratched into the barrel. Tex and Constantine fought over this seat like it was worth a million dollars, and only the interruption of the literal Hell’s Angels roaring up on you on motorcycles re-focused their attention.

They’ve been trying to run you down for blocks like wolves on a caribou, and with a whip of Wick's wrist on the steering wheel, now you’re being pursued by one less. It over-corrects and crashes into a concrete barrier. Constantine laughs under his breath at the thing’s demise.

However, there are still three more to contend with.

“The club is just ahead,” directs Constantine. “Good luck finding parking.” 

“Hold on.” 

There's nothing to fucking hold on to in the bare bones back seat—except for Constantine, so that's what you do. He holds your hand with a white knuckled grip that betrays his nerves far more than his expression does

John tricks the motorcycle-riding demons by suddenly slowing down, then gunning the engine, running one over with a sudden burst of speed, then smacking the other two like a pinball flipper with a sudden shift and drift turn.

The car is totally fucked, but so are the hellspawn, so it feels like a win. 

When one of them tries to stagger from the wreckage towards you Tex shoots it from out the window. The sound is deafening—and the ball of fire from the barrel of the gun makes you all jump. 

“What the fuck is that, John?” you demand. 

“Dragon's breath,” he answers you with a little smirk. “Nice work, Hee Haw. You should hunt demons instead of people.”

“What's the pay?”

“Absolute shit with possible stock options in Heaven.”

“No thank you then.”

The four of you pile out of the car and hustle towards the doors of Midnite's. 

“This place is supposed to be neutral ground,” says Constantine, “but it's going to be full of demonic half-breeds, so walk fast and stick close.”

Tex turns to you with an incredulous frown. “Baby, I seriously gotta question your taste. Where did you find this wizard boy?”

Constantine looks at you with a smirk, no doubt thinking about your first animalistic tryst in that alleyway by the bar, and how he’d made you cum on his dick with your back chaffed by the hard bricks behind you, your legs wrapped desperately around his slender waist while he pounded inside your needy little cunt.

It had been glorious.

Just the memory of it floods you with a searing heat from your loins to regrettably, your cheeks.

Constantine loves it when he manages to make you blush, and a wicked gleam sparkles in his jetty dark irises.   

“Shall I tell him, dear?”

You can tell that Tex’s head is about to explode.

“Not while he’s holding a fire-breathing shotgun, honey.”

Constantine has never really used lovey pet names with you before. It’s almost the weirdest thing that’s happened today.

As you push through the doors of the club it’s almost like entering another dimension, the red lights and bass thump of hedonistic music beyond, the steps down down down like a descent into a nether realm. The bouncer holds up his tarot card, the entrance exam, that Constantine passes like a breeze. “Rat in a dress.”

Bouncer turns to Wick and Tex with a new card, who look at Constantine with almost comical consternation. “They’re with me.”

“Still gotta pass.”

A beat later Constantine punches the burly bouncer out, shaking the sting off his hand. “Sorry,” he says to the unconscious man on the ground. To the rest of you, “Shit. Move fast.”

He bursts through the doors to the main club, striding with purpose on those beautiful long legs. You always feel too cool for school, when you’re on a magical side-quest with John. His broad shoulders part the crowd around you all, and when you’re with Constantine, everyone is looking at you. Half-breed angels, demons, and who knows what in between. Their eyes glow eerily in the low crimson light of the club.

Neither Wick nor Tex betray any fear or surprise at descending into this eldritch side of the City of Angels, intimidating towers at your back, glowering at anyone who looks your way.

Maybe it’s stupid, but in this moment you feel pretty fucking invincible.  

It’s definitely stupid, because the creatures on Team Lucifer start to take an acute interest in Tex, their eyes glowing. Even you can feel them pressing closer around you. Constantine is standing at the tufted leather wall, what you know is an illusion hiding a door.

A tall, unfairly hot half-breed saunters into Tex’s personal space, reaching up to touch his cheek with a sultry come-hither smile. Succubus, is your guess, though the possibilities are literally endless. For a moment Tex seems utterly entranced, and it’s all you can do not to roll your eyes. “Sorry, he’s taken,” you say, pulling Tex back with your fingers in his tooled belt to sandwich him between you and Constantine.

Are they going to open the door for you or what? Any time now would be excellent…

Suddenly the half-breed seems a foot taller, looming over you with glowing red eyes. With your heart in your throat you hold up your amulet between you, and though she doesn’t exactly flinch and hiss like you’d hoped, you can tell she doesn’t care for it, her fine features twisting in a sneer like she tasted something nasty.

“Fine,” pouts the demoness. “Change your mind, handsome, you know where to find me.” She punctuates the offer with a flash of razor-sharp teeth before she saunters off with extra swing in her hips.

Tex makes a small sound of pain behind you as he watches her go, and you know he can’t help it. Desire is the Succubus’s power, and she was clearly hunting tonight. It doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes though, turning to catch John Wick’s gaze. You can tell he’s keeping watch on the room, but he’s also got his eyes on you; that weighty, yearning look that never fails to tie your heart—and your lady parts—up in knots. A wholly inconvenient throb of lust between your legs makes you shift where you stand; suddenly you are soaked, so aware of the solid warmth of Tex at your back, and John towering before you.

Just like old times.

A part of you wants to reach for him, location be damned, an ingrained urge that would be a terrible idea at this time in this place, because if you touch him you’ll have to kiss him and who knows where that will end.

Jesus, was the succubus’s energy affecting you too? Or is it just…them?

There is a heady weight in the air, like something malevolent is about to descend upon you all. With your heart in your throat you clutch at the talisman around your neck, and though you’re not really sure which deity you’re entreating for salvation, you pray.

At last the door swings open, and Constantine finds your elbow, tugging you none too gently with him inside Papa Midnite’s inner sanctum. Naturally, where you go, the boys follow close behind.

“John Constantine,” says Papa Midnite in his melodic baritone. “Been some time. I see you’ve brought friends.”

  “Wouldn’t go that far,” snarks Constantine with a baleful look at the two assassins at your back. “But I need your help.”

“The Great John Constantine needs my help?” mocks Papa. “Must be sometin’ bad.”

You’re not proud of the panic that rises in your throat at the sound of Midnite’s reluctance to help you. You know that pretty much everyone in the supernatural world has been pissed off at Constantine for some reason or another, but you pray this man can rise above his grudge. If not…Tex is fucked, and maybe it’s stupid after everything he did to you, but just the thought leaves a hollow ringing inside your heart.

You dare to peek around from Constantine’s imposing form. “Please, Papa?” you entreat, your eyes wide. You have met once before, and on that occasion the powerful witch doctor seemed to like you, though he didn’t cease to deride what a girl like you could possibly be doing with the likes of John Constantine. “We really need your help.”

Papa Midnite tilts his fedora-topped head to regard you with curiosity. He is wearing one of his delightfully loud shirts with a fur collared jacket. A gold necklace gleams against the dark skin of his throat. “Who needs my help, little girl? You, or him?” He points at Constantine with the jut of his chin.

“I do,” you both answer at the same time. You realize Constantine doesn’t want you to owe the powerful Bokor a favor—but you’re reading the room, and you’re pretty sure if the magic is for Constantine, Midnite is going to tell you all to pound rocks.

Midnite, understanding all of this, sits back in his throne of a chair with a little chuckle, drumming gold-bedecked fingers on the carved wooden arm.

“What is it you need?”

“A curse lifted,” answers Constantine. “And a spell cast.”

Midnite whistles at hearing that, and only then does his attention turn to the assassin at your back. “I can sense the dark mark from here,” says the witch doctor. “Let me see.”

With a grumble Tex pulls at his collar, pearl snap buttons popping to reveal the blackened circular pentacle, its 8 radii tipped with symbols, embedded beneath his skin. At the sight of it Midnite smirks, his eyebrows lifting high.  

“Set thou a wicked one to be ruler over him, and let Satan stand at his right hand,” cites Midnite. “That a powerful curse t’set on someone, Constantine.”

“It was a heat of the moment thing,” grumbles the demon hunter.

“I can tell. Takes some big feeling, to conjure a curse like dis from thin air.”

That’s when Midnite looks at you, and that stupid blush of heat ambushes you again.

Feelings were not something you and John Constantine talked about. Sure, they were there, but you never really gave voice to them. You demonstrated them, physically, and often. Midnite seems bent on embarrassing both of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” grouses Constantine, only daring to glance in your direction. But in that single moment, the raw look on his face makes you feel like you need to sit down. “So can you lift it or not?”

“Course I can,” says Midnite dismissively. “What you bring me in return?”

“’Fraid I’ll have to owe you.”

“Hmm. I’ve heard that one too many times from the likes of you, Constantine. I’ll need somethin’ up front.”

“Do you like gold?” asks John Wick blandly, producing five glittering yellow coins from his pocket, setting them on the table in front of Papa Midnite in a neat stack one by one. The pretty tink tink tink of metal fills the air, and Midnite nods with his lips pursed, paying Wick an approving look. However, as he examines the death’s head emblazoned token, it is you he speaks to.

“How did a nice girl like you get tangled up wit Underworld boys like dis?”

A shuddering sigh escapes you, as a montage of the absolute fire you walked through to get to this moment flashes in your mind. The murder, the kidnapping, the chaos and corruption. The passion, the pleasure, and the quieter moments that made you think you might be content to stay with your Boys forever—until they forced you to go.

“It’s a long story, Papa,” you answer, barely able to raise your voice over a whisper.

“Some other time, you’ll tell me, then. Step into my office.”     

Midnite leads you to his back room, a cavernous space built in the breathtakingly ornate style of the Moorish palaces of Andalusia. At first you don’t know where to look. The arabesque carved walls, the scalloped arches, the honeycomb vaulted ceilings, or the cacophony of antique relics stacked high on all sides. There are statues and busts and boxes and dolls, this and that and bric-a-brac and every category of precious old junk you can imagine, is here. Your eye is drawn to an old wooden chair against the far wall with leather straps that for some reason gives you chills.

The center of the room is empty, the demarked circle where Midnite performs his workings outlined with bones, half-burnt candles, and rusty lines on the tiles that look like blood.  

“Now then,” says Midnite, taking a sip from a bottle of dark rum before offering it to Tex. “Drink up, man. Dis not gonna feel good.”

***

When all is said and done, the four of you all feel like pieces of chewed up gum. You are utterly wiped, and it’s all you can do not to fall asleep in the back of the car with your head on Constantine’s shoulder. Fingering your new tattoo, a mystical symbol that binds Tex Johnson and John Wick to your will, you think on what Papa Midnite said to you before your departure.

“Hard to live with a heart divided in three pieces, girl. You playin’ a dangerous game.”

“It’s not a game to me, Midnite. It’s just…my life, somehow.”

“Dat fair. So you know, I told that silly boy of yours to put a ring on your finger ‘fore he lost the chance. Never seen him like dis, wit any other.”

You’d paid him a grim smile, amused at the thought of Constantine asking you to be his wife. What a laughable prospect. Sweet, but there was no way he felt that about you. “Are you telling me not to break your friend’s heart, Midnite?”

He’d snorted and taken a drink of rum. “I know better than that. But you might tink about what he’ll turn into, if tings go badly.”

Truth be told, you didn’t want to think on that, because it terrified you. All you wanted right now, was to curl up in the bed you shared with John Constantine, and sleep for about seven years.

Midnight had given you a herbal potion that had to be administered to Tex every six hours for a week, and a magical salve to apply to the burn upon his chest where the symbol had, at one point, burst into white-hot flame. You’d feared he’d been at death’s door, until he took your hand with a smirk and mumbled half to you, half to himself, “The things I do for my little rattlesnake.” It had squeezed your heart with a fist, utterly wrecked you, and you knew you couldn’t kick him to the curb just yet.

You were headed back to Constantine’s house, (which you had helped him get together the down payment for, with no strings attached, so…) and the four of you would have to figure out how to co-exist, at least until Tex was back on his feet.

Then…who the fuck knew what was going to happen.

You’d think about that, tomorrow.

Tammykelly:

- a flashback -

Sleep long forfeited to yet another night full of vigorous dance that is the celebration of passion and ever growing connection and affection between two souls who’d found one another amidst chaos that unfailingly enters one’s life book when it flips through the pages onto the next chapter. Gradually, chaos learns the code of order, tamed by the new rules and beginnings, sought after by you and Constantine in an unhasty pace.

You feel the blossom of his soft lips on yours for a while, before you pull away to take a long look at him, running your fingers along his sweaty forehead and through his slightly damp hair. He feels his chest tighten at the way your gaze moves across his tilted up face and lingers on his eyes, entering beyond the physical and reaching for subliminal.

“Hi”, - Constantine croaks, his arms draped around your waist, steadying you, as your heated bodies stay impossibly close.

“Hey, baby”, - you breathe out, your touch leaves traces on his skin in feather-like movements, making his heart flutter.

“You call me that like it means something”, - he wonders out loud.

It must be true, that the eyes are the windows to the soul, for when he says that, you feel the heat of your body grow stronger when his irises light up with an inexplicably warm spark that transforms into the taste of him on your ever waiting lips, while your hips drag out the sensually slow pace. You try to find the perfect rhythm again, having felt yourself folding under the intensity with which your heart blooms and expands every time his dark eyes capture yours.

“I…uh…I’m….”, - you blurt out, the right words stuck at the edge of the said sacred dilation.

Maybe it is love. Love that sprouts across the silver lining that is the tenuous punchline between sanity and deliberate madness of passion. Constantine’s body reacts to yours before his mind has to think about it, as he gently tugs you closer. He doesn’t let you finish, his lips connecting to yours, catching your love on his tongue in a long deliciously flavorful kiss.

He touches your bullet scar, his jawline playing, his eyes darkening.

“They’re gonna pay for what they did to you”, - he quietly tells you again, voice filled with determination that invites more ephemeral warmth into your chest.

“They already did”, - you reply, reminiscence of their absence dissipating into the background of your subconscious when your tongue slides along Constantine’s jaw, tasting tiny droplets of sweat.

“They gotta pick someone their size, yeah?”

His reply makes you smile: “Please, we’ve talked about this, baby”, you feel goosebumps arise at the back of his neck at the nickname, no matter how nonchalant he wants to appear each time you call him a random pet name.

“You care about them? Even after everything they’ve done to you?” - his raspy voice is low but the tone sets a prelude to a gradually boiling point.

“They’re the best I’ve ever had”, he leans back and quirks his eyebrow at your tease, “after you, of course”, you add, smirking.

He lets out a sigh of frustration: “Jesus, it’s like talking to a fucking brick wall”, you feel his fingers dig deeper into your soft skin. You lean closer, your breath over his mouth.

“Calling God’s name when you’re balls deep in me?” your voice akin to a purr, “what a profanity”, a smirk curls up.

“Mhhmm, funny thing is He made this happen”, Constantine’s tone matches your game.

“And is Jesus present in the room with us?” your head tilts.

“Oh, you think it’s funny?” he bucks his hips up.

“You literally just said it is”, an involuntary moan escapes your mouth, lost in the grunt of the man underneath you, when you match his cheat code with a harsh movement of your own.

“It’s an expression”.

“Okay and?”

“Watch your mouth”, - Constantine’s eyes transform into a pair of two burning coals, sending shivers across your whole body, accompanied by the way his fingertips trace down your spine.

You can barely make a sound due to his manipulations: “Can’t read minds, baby”, making it his turn to shudder.

“What, don’t have any better ideas?” he recuperates, the warmth of his arms leave you, as he places his hands behind him on the bed to support his weight. You don’t wait to connect your mouth to his, your teeth sinking into his lower lip before you lightly tug at it and let go. A cocky grin instantaneously leaves his handsome face when he feels your tongue crash into his mouth, which he reciprocates with twice as much force and eagerness, his arms lock back around your waist, and he notices a triumphant smile display itself on your features.

“An angel risen from ashes picked up by the devil reborn”, you answer his question, teasing the idea of which one’s which when you first met. Him - a cancer free phoenix-like angel of death, or you - a devilishly sweet temptress, who, unbeknownst to herself, exchanged two deadly ghosts for the black cat of a man, stuck in between both realms.

You continue: “He always had a rotten sense of humour. And His punch lines are killers”, Constantine’s gaze darkens at the mention of your ghosts.

“Ha-ha, very funny”, his tone less than amused.

“Oh, you find this funny now?” you bite his neck, which makes a deep husky groan erupt from his throat.

“Don’t tell me you believe this fate bullshit”, you say, as you fight the urge to speed up your pace to chase the way his sultry sounds bounce around your insides.

His low growl nearly shatters your self control when he tells you: “Fate or not, you’re mine now. Mine”, you feel his teeth sink into your skin, “you hear me?”, his gaze when he looks up akin to the explosion of a sleeping volcano underneath an already blazing ocean, edging you onto the border of a slippery slope that is the point of no return once you process the 3 magic words that are glued to your tongue.

Instead two short words roll off, as a soft moan:“Yes, baby”.

“Gonna give you everything you want”, you feel his hands roam all over your body, “all of me”.

You lean back.

“All of you?”- your expression flickers with darkness, showing him your devilish desire, as his silent gaze shaves off the outer layers down to your core.

“You son of a bitch”, you breathe out, smiling, after a brief pause, for your racing heartbeat shifts to a contracting and pulsating firework, overtaking all of your senses. You study his handsome face, drinking in all the details you’ve grown so attached to, florescence of affection tugging your lips upwards in a gentle smile.

Constantine’s eyes set the fire in the pit of your belly ablaze on the scale that you’re sure will be the death of you some day, for being with him is like Heaven on Earth and being apart now seems like a cruel tool of a ghostly destruction.

His playful grin pulls you back in: “Calling me a son of a bitch when I got you on my dick? You’re brave, kitten”.

“That’s exactly why I can call you that. You’re my son of a bitch”, you grab his hair and give it a nice pull before you lean down to lick up his neck, placing a gentle kiss right under his ear, feeling him twitch inside you, “and Devil’s right hand, yeah?”

“More like his puppet”, Constantine grunts, as you look down at him, sensing him barely able to maintain the slow[ish] pace you’ve set, holding onto the last threads of self-restraint.

“So, no rewards for that, I suppose?”, you tease further, testing the limits of the mind games he’s been playing with you all day long.

“Afraid not, angel”.

“Let me be the one to send you to Heaven then”, you whisper right against his ear and kiss his temple.

All the blurry lines of will power come tumbling down, when the sound of him sucking air through his teeth enters your inner space, as Constantine’s hand finds its place between your jawline and neck.

Gradually, you encourage his index and middle fingers between your lips, his irises unable to focus anywhere else but the way you take them in, his whole body akin to a molten liquid metal, his fingers melting on your tongue. You giddily lick them, your tongue swirling around them, playing with his digits like lollipop toys, until you let go and take care of the saliva under Constantine’s furnace of a carnally hungry gaze.

You feel your hips stuttering against the increasing pace, when you hear his raspy voice: “Fuck, kitten, you feel like Heaven”, the energy between your bodies and feverish kisses multiplying in increasingly all consuming vehement abundance that can crack the earth open.

“Touché”.

A half smile coats his lips at your cute quip.

“Watch”, you tell him, his eyes shifting to the mirror somewhere behind you.

The heat of his hips rolling against yours at the speed that finds you both panting and sweaty messes is more than enough for him to tip over the edge but as his eyes take in the scene of your power over him, his body proceeds to come apart under you when your fingers wrap around his throat and apply pressure, slightly tipping his face up.

“Open”, you say, your thumb glazing over his soft lips, and he raises an eyebrow, “don’t you wanna cum, baby?”, you sweetly inquire.

“Fuck”, his voice is barely audible, Constantine’s eyes glimmer under your watchful lust, the darkness in the depth of the bottomless abyss that is him transcending what has become of his power over you. His eyelids flutter slightly, as your spit falls on his tongue.

“Swallow”, you reward him with a particularly harsh snap of your hips, seeing his Adam’s apple bobble.

“You’re gonna pay for that”, he growls.

“You’re a drama queen, you know that?”, you point out, leaving a love-bite mark on his collarbone, knowing damn well at the way he’s twitching inside you, he won’t be lasting long. You smirk, as you slow down the pace to a damn near full stop, eliciting a low and deep whine from him.

What the fuck, his eyes show you, roaming over your face hungrily.

“Tell me how much you want me”, you purr, feeling his fingers next to your scalp, tugging you closer.

“Fuck, angel, wanna feel you so bad”, an angelically evil smile plays on your face at his response, “need you on biblical level”, he finishes, the butterflies inside you catching aflame, their fiery wings spreading across every fibre of your being.

Constantine feels like he might go insane without you, your whole existence being the lone salvation he’s been seeking his entire life. He twitches again.

“Say that again”, your sultry tone pervades his mind, the pace picking up just a tiny bit.

“Need you to move, right now”, he begs.

You look at him expectantly.

“I can’t control myself any longer. Please, fuck me”, he looks up into your eyes that have turned into blazingly bright gates to the oblivion that is his path to purgatory. His gaze diverts back to the mirror and your goddess-like form against his.

“God, you’re sexy when you beg”, you whisper, Constantine can practically hear the cocky smirk in your voice, as a loud moan erupts from his throat, while he watches himself get ruined by everything that is you.

“I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel”, you exhale, listening to the way your name exits his lips akin to a gust of wind, blowing across an infinite ocean.

“Cheeky little girl”, he barely replies between the chain-smoke of moans.

“Fuck you”, you breathe out.

“Say no more”, he chuckles, his lips and teeth leaving bruises all over your sensitive chest, his hips meeting yours at an increasingly high speed.

“Fuck me harder”, he growls, his lips soliciting moans from yours.

“What a good girl”, he purrs and smiles against your neck, feeling your speed folding, as you attempt to gain the upper hand.

“My beautiful angel”, Constantine praises, kissing down the valley of your breasts, enjoying every single breathless moan that you leave for him to treasure, “you’re doing so well”, he continues, “I love it when you fuck me like this”, his lips graze yours before another storm of a kiss unfolds itself.

“Oh, yeah?”

“So good, I need you to fuck me like this every day”, his teeth tug your lower lip and let go, his open-mouth kiss then imprinting a picture of his love for you on your tongue.

“Need this pussy for breakfast, lunch and fucking dinner”, - a husky growl of his makes your insides deliciously twist.

“Say less”, you giggle after the kiss breaks apart, only for a yet another wave of kissing, biting, hair pulling and power play, resembling a balanced match, surpass the two of you.

You feel as if the sun that is the man, obeying your all desires, is scorching you with a strong nurturing vitality, meeting you halfway anytime you slip.

The sun, sometimes deadly, shining its light on you and sharing the experience of birth of the stars with you, until all you and Constantine know is that you can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.

“Cum for me, baby”, you whisper, your eyes hazily gazing into his.

“Fuck”, he moans into your mouth, as you and him become one in an endless explosion of lustful starlight.

You both take a moment to steady your breathing, the pulses of your bodies streaming along the lines of your silhouettes akin to the red string of fate. Suddenly, you feel yourself getting lifted and plopped on the bed, the heavy weight hovers above you.

“My turn”, Constantine growls, worshipping you and your body in a form of myriad of kisses, adoring your skin.

“I’m not finished with you”, you chuckle, pulling his face to yours.

“Wanna ride your pretty face so badly”, you breathe out shakily, watching his pupils dilate, turning his dark chocolate eyes into jet-black colour of the night outside your windows.

He kisses you deeply before teasing: “Should’ve said sooner, princess”, and flips you.

Before you know it, his lips are connected to your nether ones, placing sweet kisses on God’s bewitching and intricate creation.

“Oh, fuck!”, a scream leaves your mouth, as you lose control over your limbs when Constantine demonstrates his vicious payback for all of your previous manipulations, the delirious temptation to play him exiting your body like it was never there.

The way his tongue devours you till the last drop like a man starved, you assume you’re not the only one losing yourself to this trick of devilish pleasure, pulling you deeper into the whirlpool that keeps expanding wave by wave until it comes thundering through your body like a tsunami, then crashing onto a shore over and over, the sound of your screams mixing with the magnitude of Constantine’s sonic savouring of your most precious parts till his immeasurable hunger for all divinity that is you is satiated beyond your limits.

Songs for the delulu meal:

The best I ever had by Limi

Obsessed by Zandros ft. Limi

Dangerous woman Call out my name mix

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You don’t know if it’s some kind of magic, or if you’re just this petty. But, damn, that succubus did piss you off. Even worse than her, with her silky black hair and sweet milk skin and inviting, rosy eyes and cheeks.. You catch yourself mid thought, determined to pluck her from your brain. 

Yes, even worse than that half breed bitch - Jesus, who are you? - was watching Tex suffer and bleed. Blue lips forming around a silent scream; a beg for the ritual to stop. Tan, supple skin turned ashen gray and tented. Dark eyes blown milky and wild with terror.

There’s another memory you have to get rid of somehow: Tex dying a slow, grueling death in some hellish, accelerated time loop. In front of you. Powerless you. 

You have his take home medications clutched tightly to your torso as the Johns lug him inside, one under each arm, his feet stumbling and dragging so much that Wick decides to just pick him up. 

Why in the world did that make you so delighted? To see John Wick carrying Tex Johnson bridal style across Constantine’s threshold?

Your smile wipes clean, though, when you realize that Tex has not made a witty quip or even grinned at this show of brotherhood. John deposits him on the couch, and you sit on the floor beside, holding his hand. Your stomach lodges into your chest when you feel how cold he is. Your human heater turned ice box. 

“Tex,” you say softly, brushing the untamed thicket of hair from his eyes. 

He keeps his eyes closed, but that fond little tick of his mouth lets you know he hears you loud and clear. 

You swallow your pride. “I missed you, too.” 

You hope to God he’ll harass you for saying that, later. 

For now, a grunt will suffice. 

This man has put you through hell, but fuck, if he hasn’t been heaven all the way through it. You had really thought he was dying back there, and it…. put things into perspective.

Wick is in the kitchen dwarfing the tiny dining table with Constantine. Not talking, not even looking at one another. Some kind of tension exists between them, but at least it’s not the awkward or homicidal kind… well, at least as far as you can tell. 

You grab some cold bourbon from the fridge, pour 3 glasses, and dish them out. Then, you hop up on the counter and join this sinewy silence game. 

Wick breaks the skin, twin eyes meeting Constantine’s. “Thank you,” he says.

Constantine grins tightly. “Consider it repayment.”

“For?” 

Oh, here we fucking go.

Constantine, the bastard prodigy of Lucifer himself - or, he might as well be - doesn’t answer, instead nudging his chin and shoulder toward you, as if you’re some prize Wick handed to him on a silver platter. 

Now, you don’t really know what to expect from John. Fiercely protective, aloof John. But it’s definitely not a grin. A fucking grin. Yeah, he really has gone totally batshit. Terrifying.

Constantine looks stumped, and so do you. 

“I’m gonna get going,” Wick says, standing and draping his jacket around his arms. You get a strong wiff of delicious leather and diesel and gunpowder.

“You’re leaving?” This comes out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“Yeah.”

“What about Tex?” 

“I’ll be near.”

No use fronting now.

“What if something happens? What if we need you -“

Constantine cuts off your increasingly frantic voice. “I think you should stay.”

It’s Wick’s turn to look stumped. He raises a dark eyebrow. Constantine rewords.

“Please. Stay. We may need you.” Constantine looks over at you, giving that you owe me leer. 

Your nerves settle when Wick puts his jacket back on the rack and slips his shoes off, looking at you all the while. 

John Wick sleeps in the little broom closet turned guest room, and you and Constantine retire to your bedroom. This place is purely a you sanctuary, with incense burners and tapestries and little trinkets you’ve collected from your travels. It’s a souvenir from your limited therapy sessions, and a much needed safe space. 

Before you can shut the bedroom door, you hear John’s monotone voice turn doting. It reminds you of being soothed through an orgasm, him cradling you when you cried - the hum that disarms and breaks you. 

You go to him, peaking inside the narrow door that he had to duck to get through. Killy is rubbing against Wick’s torso, purring, headbutting, her tiny fluffy body practically vibrating from the attention of his big hand. 

He smiles at you. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, meet Baby Killy. She’s so shy usually.”

“Pretty kitty,” John coos, scratching behind her ears as she chirps for him.

Great, you’re jealous of a cat. Which is stupid because you have a whole other man in the next room that can’t keep his hands off you. You’re selfish, you realize. 

“Sorry it’s not comfortable,” you tell Wick, looking at his calves hanging off the tiny mattress. “I can buy an air mattress.” 

He twirls Killy’s tail softly around his finger. “It’s fine, y/n. Get some rest.”

“Yeah. Night John.” You leave him, pretending it’s not reluctantly. 

Constantine is already in his boxers, cigarette nipped between his teeth. You pluck it from him and take a long drag. “Thought we were supposed to be quitting?” Blowing smoke over his lips. 

He tugs you down into the bed with him. “I’ve had a long day.”

“Aw, poor thing.” You kiss his jaw, shimmying the white stick back into his mouth. 

Your lips trail feather light down his quivering throat, nose pausing, nuzzling against his quickening pulse. A shy, involuntary smile slides into his collarbone divot. Your magic man shivers under you, makes you feel like you can kick God’s ass if it really comes down to it. 

He gently fists your hair in his fingers while you suck the hard day off his skin, hand trailing south on his tight twitching tummy, lazily perusing in search of a swelling, sensitive, beautiful cock trapped in cloth.

He smushes the half cigarette out in your little pearlescent ashtray, tips your face up, kisses you soft. Kisses you like you like you’re some being of fleeting, fragile light and hope. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You grin against his mouth, using that familiar formal, ironic greeting that he favors when you’re both wading knee deep into eachother’s personal space already.

You pull away to look down at his tenting boxers, but your eyes snag something on the way. A big, fresh bruise to his opposite collar - wide and diffuse as if from a large hand. It’s normal for Constantine to have bruises, and he did fight demons today. But this mark? Fresh. Just blooming. Plus, the only one on his long, expansive body. 

Your mind thinks back to the kitchen, how they were both so quiet. Looking far too innocent. You feel stupid for not expecting this. 

“Did John hit you?” You’ve gotten really good at talking before thinking. Just one of many Constantine mannerisms you’ve picked up along the journey of knowing him. 

“We talked.” 

You go to get up. No plan in mind except hurting Wick. Really hurting him. Either with words or a quicker fist than he can catch. Probably the latter,  since John excels at catching fists, but you still think you can slice him just as much with a few well placed sentences. Of course, you could also try out this nifty new spell of submission..

Constantine holds you in place. “I started it.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” You see him wince at the sinister growl in your voice, and your spiked fur smooths a little bit if only for his benefit. “He’s a fucking asshole. He thinks he can just bully people into submission. Let’s see how he likes it.” You’re talking loud enough that you hope Wick can hear it. You know he’s not scared… because it’s John Wick, but, you at least hope he knows you’re coming for his throat. 

“Angel.” Constantine’s long, careful fingers cup your face. “It’s alright. Not tonight. Let you kick his ass tomorrow, okay? Right now, I need you with me. Hey, look at me…. There you are. You hearing me?” 

You lean into his touch and kiss his wrist. “Yeah, okay.” 

“C’mon.” He pats his chest and you lay your head on it. “Now, where were we..” 

You give a little chuckle. “In the pit of despair?” 

He gathers your hair and pulls it off your shoulder, tickles his fingers over your neck. “I think…” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” It thrills and scares you a little bit that this man can make such a breathy, desperate mess of you from just a tiny touch. 

“Think you should put on some pajamas and let me read to you.” 

Suddenly, your anger runs dry, replaced by excitement. He laughs at your hopeful, mystified expression. 

“You’re gonna read to me?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Better hurry before I change my mind.” 

You love it when Constantine reads to you, always mesmerized by that smooth, baritone voice, and it’s not often that he’s up for it. 

You don’t bother going into the bathroom to get dressed, which you can tell he appreciates. You can also tell that he loves the fact that you bypass your own clothes entirely and instead throw on one of his big flannels. 

You cuddle beside him, wrap your arms around his waist and tuck in for your after dark entertainment. 

“Hey, hey, Angel.” It takes you a minute to open your eyes. Constantine assists this process with a pleasant rub between your shoulder blades and a hushed voice. 

“Huh?” Your voice is groggy, far away, brain still swimming in twilight. 

Constantine gives you a patient stretch of time to wake and groan and wipe the spare drool from your chin. The blue dawn outside tells you that it’s early - way too early. You don’t remember falling asleep, and it must have been a glorious one judging by your wicked bed head and sore voice. 

“What? What’s going on?” 

“Clint Eastwood won’t let James Bond give him his medicine. He says he wants you to do it.” 

“Are you serious?” You ask. 

Constantine opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He sighs. “Yeah.” 

“What the fuck,” you mumble. 

Tex, eyes open, sitting up, cat on his lap, looks at you like you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. Big, appreciative grin. You can’t be annoyed for too long when you see that he has color back in his face.

“Hello, nurse.”

Damn his infectious grin. “What? John’s not a good enough nurse for you?” 

“He’s alright. Not very cute, though.” He sizes you up as you roll your eyes and snort. 

He gives you a little wink. “See you still hate wearin your own clothes.” 

You look down at yourself - at the big cozy button flannel that falls mid thigh with nothing else on under or over it. You really didn’t even think about how exposed you were when you got up and came out here. But, now, you’re flushing and shifting on your feet.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me now, rattlesnake. I’ve had all of it in my mouth anyway, yeah?” 

Sinful reels flit through your memories. And, fuck you, but even that makes you so wet you can feel it in the crease of your thighs already. 

The reality hits you that this could be a thing, somehow: Johnson and the Johns with you pressed between. You short circuit thinking about it for a solid twenty seconds.

Tex chuckles, pets Killy. “Your momma’s too easy,” he tells her, and the traitor purrs and merrs and pushes into his doting palm as if in agreement. 

Great, two treasonous pussy’s in this house. 

Plus, you’re about ninety nine percent sure Constantine will do more than curse them if he sees their hands on you in any carnal way. Even though this thing between the two of you is unestablished and unlabeled, your magic man is more than a little possessive. 

You remember, fondly, the time he pissed you off, so you went on a date with a nice young gentleman who also happened to be a cop - Johnny, you think his name was. Jesus fuck, you really do have issues - and Constantine blew every fuse in that restaurant with a spell. In the pitch black, no one saw him come pick you right up and carry you out. That night started with “fuck you, Constantine” and ended with “no no agh fuck please m’ sorryjohnsosorry.” 

Wick’s nowhere to be found, which you don’t really mind. If you see him again, you might just try kicking him in the dick. You mix Tex’s medicines in the kitchen, heating up the thick herbal soup in a little pot. It smells bad, kinda like fish, draws Killy’s attention really quick.

She brushes against your legs and reminds you that she’s hungry and that oh, that smells good, mom. 

You scoop her out a cup of kitty kibble while the stove simmers, then give her a few pets. It’s not often that she’s so doting on you - she prefers Constantine and solidarity over your company. But, she must know something’s up - either that or it’s the fishy concoction steaming up your little kitchen. 

Tex winces when you rub the salve into his burn. It looks awful - dry and necrotic, little charred skin flakes sticking to your fingertips. 

You scrub them off on a towel, grimacing. “Does this hurt?” 

“Numb,” he shrugs. Reaches out to tuck hair behind your ear. Your body reacts violently and insistently. Constantine’s touch, pleasant and warm and diffuse; that’s what you’re used to. You forgot about Tex’s sharp edges, the scary thrill of him. Like the first drop of the roller coaster. 

“Tex,” you warn.

“Sorry, darlin. Just so fuckin pretty. Forgot how beautiful you are, is all. How good ya smell. Christ, even with Houdini’s scent all over you.” He pinches your chin in his fingers and makes you look at him, at the sincerity in his blown black pupils and hooded, lustful gaze. “He eatin your pussy right, huh? Need me to show him how to do it?” 

“You know,” you say, hating yourself for the thick in your voice, “I have this nifty new spell I can use…” 

He chuckles. “Settle down, honeypie, I’m just trying to be nice, is all.” 

“Nice.” You glare at him and he lets you go. 

The fishy stuff in the mug wipes the grin right off Tex’s face. He chokes and sputters. “Good God, what in hell’s name is this Guacala shit.” 

You smile at him and take the empty cup. “Every six hours, cowboy.” 

On your way back into the bedroom, he watches you unabashedly. Killy is back on his lap. “You got a shower here, rattlesnake?” 

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” you tell him. 

“Think I need some help.”

“Uh huh. You can manage.” 

“Alright, you got me. I don’t really need help I just wanna fuck the shit outta ya.” 

“Sorry, Tex, but that’s-“ you look pointedly at the purring feline in his lap -“the only pussy you’ll be getting in this house.”

You shut your door before you can catch his mumble: “we’ll just see about that.” 

Constantine is in his study. You debate going and fucking him on the desk chair, working off this sticky arousal coating your cunt and inner thighs. But, also, you’re still sleepy, and laying down in the bed already has your eyelids fluttering closed and brain going mushy. You struggle between options until your body eventually decides for you. 

You wake up to the delicious evocation of salt and fat and heat. John Wick is back. He’s in the kitchen cooking one of those five star breakfasts that are worth letting him live. For now. 

Bread pops up from the toaster, startling you. “Hey, that’s been broken.” 

“Fixed it,” he says, dexterously flipping his pan. “Got the faucet to work in the bathroom sink. Your drain’s here are built wrong. I’m gonna take a look after I finish breakfast. There’s fresh orange juice and chocolate milk in the fridge. Coffee on the warmer.” 

“That’s not my coffee pot.” You eye the expensive looking, silver, sleek appliance with steaming black, delicious smelling brew under.

“I got a new one.”

Are you really surprised at this point? You grab some orange juice from the fridge, and find the once bare shelves stocked and organized with fresh fruits and veggies, eggs and jams, healthy pre-made snack boxes. 

The cupboards have also magically filled themselves with canned fruits and veggies, organic breads, high end trail mixes, protein bars. 

The place is spotlessly clean. New microwave, an ice maker beside the stove. Real glasses and plates stacked in the cupboards.

Wick has been busy, it seems. 

Constantine walks into the kitchen, paying attention to the newspaper in his hand instead of his surroundings until he sees you. “Hey, Angel-“ looks up, takes in the practically brand new kitchen. “What in the fuck.” 

[holllandtrash]

treat you better | lando norris, pierre gasly

pairing: lando norris x reader, pierre gasly x reader part 2 to better left unsaid - read all parts here

weeks go by and even though you haven't heard from lando, another driver has managed to slide his way into your life...and you're not that upset about it

word count: 5.4k warnings/tags: like none except asshole!lando again, this part has some social media!au aspects

Three Weeks Later

Pierre had joked about you visiting him during the break, but you didn’t think anything of it until you received an email regarding your upcoming flight and a second email a minute later containing your boarding pass to Monaco.

You weren’t even sure how Pierre managed to book a flight under your name, but you weren’t going to question it. 

His name showed up on your phone shortly after you read the email and you answered the call before the end of the first ring.

“You want me to come to Monaco?” You asked, the hesitancy in your voice was impossible to ignore. For the last three weeks you had stayed in London, picking up extra shifts whenever you could, seeing friends during the weekends, really anything to stay distracted and to keep yourself from texting Lando.

“Of course,” Pierre’s lack of hesitancy made your palms clam up. He didn’t have a care in the world, he didn’t think about the consequences of any of his actions. He just acted however he wanted. It was admirable, but it wasn’t something you could do. 

“Pierre I can’t just-”

“Why?” He cut you off. “You said it yourself, you had booked time off for a trip anyway before Lando returned your ticket. I don’t see why your vacation has to be ruined because he’s acting like a child.”

When you woke up in your hotel room after your fight with Lando, the first thing you did was check your phone. There were no missed calls or texts from your best friend, nothing that would indicate he was sorry or he regretted anything he said. But you didn’t reach out to him either. 

Not wanting to start the day off with this argument hanging over you, you stepped out into the hall with the intention of knocking on Lando’s door. You barely made it a few feet before you heard your name being called out. When you turned around, you saw Pierre walking towards you, balancing a to-go cup of coffee, a room key and water bottle in one hand. 

He was a complete gentleman all night, starting from when you got in the Uber after leaving the club. He didn’t say anything when you rested your head on his shoulder and he didn’t try to stop you from using the sleeve of his, probably horribly expensive, blazer to wipe your eyes. 

Pierre walked you up to your room, he even offered to stay to keep you company but you assured him you’d be fine. Before you could shut the door and lock yourself in for the rest of the night, Pierre placed his hand on the wooden surface and pushed it open again.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” his voice echoed through you. You wished that Pierre was only saying what he thought you wanted to hear, but something about his words seemed so honest and heavy. He didn’t want you to brush them off and forget about them as soon as you shut the door.

You shrugged, “He’s my best friend.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to make excuses for him.”

Those words flashed through your mind all night, leaving you tossing and turning, but they didn’t sink in as much as you would have hoped because Lando was still the first person you thought of when you woke up.

Had it not been for Pierre stopping you in the hallway, you would have knocked on Lando’s door. Instead, you went out for breakfast with the French driver and an unlikely friendship started. 

What started as Pierre trying to show you that there’s more to life than just being Lando’s best friend turned into something much more. Pierre kept your mind off of Lando all day just by being there for you. He was uncharacteristically friendly, not flirty, and all he wanted was to just hang out. 

The attraction you had felt the night before hadn’t completely vanished, but now you were simply just attracted to who he was as opposed to that sexual tension pulling you to him. His jokes made your cheeks hurt from laughing so hard. His stories were captivating. Now that you were out of the club setting, you were able to see how good of a guy Pierre was. 

He put effort into building this friendship when you returned home. The two of you texted and called. You sent him ‘good luck’ messages before the start of a busy race weekend and respected the privacy he needed to get in the racing headspace. You found yourself more drawn to what he was doing on the track instead of watching Lando’s car. You weren’t rooting for just the McLaren anymore.

When Pierre sent you the flight information, you shouldn’t have been surprised. You had mentioned your original plan was to visit Lando in Monaco during the summer break but he cancelled your ticket before you could reach out to him. Lando was cutting ties.

You had to admit, it fucking hurt.

Pierre telling you to visit him in Monaco should have excited you, but there was still that gaping hole in your chest where Lando’s friendship used to be. He didn’t want anything to do with you. He didn’t try to contact you once in the last three weeks. Max reached out, nothing was strained between you and him, but you could tell he was pulling away little by little. 

Pierre spoke your name into the receiver and you were pulled out of your thoughts.

“I can’t go to Monaco, Pierre,” you said again. “What will Lando think?”

You heard him scoff, “This isn’t about Lando. This is about you enjoying yourself and not letting him get to you. If he cared, he would have reached out.”

“But I haven’t reached out either,” you pointed out. That didn’t mean you stopped caring about Lando. 

“Ah, but your heart is too big for this world, ma chérie.” You could practically hear Pierre’s smirk. He hadn’t stopped calling you ‘chérie’. “Come to Monaco. You deserve a vacation.”

———————

The odds of running into Lando in Monaco were slim. He had a house there, you had stayed there dozens of times, but he was probably flying back home to visit his family during the break, so you didn’t think about it too much.

Pierre rented a place out for a month because he didn’t live in Monaco either. He just knew he’d be back and forth between there and Milan during the summer and it was easier to just have a permanent place to return to for the time being.

He couldn’t pick you up from the airport, having other obligations he couldn’t turn down, but when the car brought you to his place, you were barely a foot in the door when you had a jumper thrown at you. It was grey with writing down the sleeves and across the back.

“New clothing drop, what do you think?” Pierre asked, dropping a pair of sweats. He approached you before you had time to answer and you were engulfed in his arms.

The first time you smelled his cologne was in the back of the Uber when you left the club, but you had weirdly come to find yourself missing it. 

Before letting go, Pierre tightened his hold to squeeze you against his chest. He ruffled your hair, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Listen, usually I spend all my time with Max or Lando when I come to Monaco so you’re already off to a bad start by not even picking me up from the airport.” You weren’t actually that upset. He had sent a car and even had the driver hold a sign with your name on it. That was a first. 

Pierre grabbed the jumper back and held up so you could take a look at the full design, “I was expecting this shipment, no one else was here and I wasn’t just going to leave it unattended! I gave my assistant the summer off.”

“How thoughtful,” a soft chuckle passed through your lips and you took the second to admire the design, nodding in approval. You then looked at the two cardboard boxes that he had abandoned to greet you. “Don’t tell me you only have two boxes of merch?”

Pierre rolled the sweater up and tossed it into your chest, “This is for my collection or to give to friends and family.” He nodded his head towards the one in your hands. “Keep it.”

Your mouth dropped in fake astonishment. “I get Pierre Gasly merch? For free? My friends will be so jealous.”

The second that last word hit Pierre’s ears, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. His charming smile turned devious as he pulled out his phone.

“I have an idea,” he started off. You weren’t a fan of that phrase, but you couldn’t miss the playful glint in his eye. Whatever he was thinking of, it had to be harmless, right? 

“Am I going to like this idea?”

“Depends on how much you care about fixing yours and Lando’s friendship.”

You weren’t putting the pieces together quick enough and Pierre simply chuckled, tugging on the sleeve of the jumper still in your arms. 

“Put it on, chérie,” he finally spelled it out for you and laughed, thinking that this was probably one of his best ideas in a long time. “And I’ll post a picture of you in it. That will get his blood boiling.” 

Your heart stopped for a second. You couldn’t do that to Lando. 

“He’ll get the wrong idea.”

“What idea will he get?” Pierre shrugged. “That we’re together? Maybe he’ll finally get it through his head that he fucked up.”

“It’s unnecessarily petty.”

“He needs the wake up call.”

Pierre expected you to argue some more, but was pleasantly surprised when you pulled the hem of the hoodie over your head. There was a mirror behind you and you made sure you didn’t look completely drained after your flight. You wiped away the mascara smudges under your eyes.

“You look good,” Pierre pulled your attention away from trying to fix yourself up and you caught his gaze in the reflection. He nodded his head towards the back of the house, “Come on, the sun’s about to set. It’ll make for a nice backdrop.”

You didn’t flinch when Pierre grabbed your hand, leading you towards the double doors, pushing them both open and leading you out towards a patio that was decorated nicer than your flat back home. 

You laughed when Pierre positioned you to make sure to get the ocean and sunset in the back. He adjusted the strings of the jumper so that they were the same length, this was a promo shoot after all. He then raised his hand and gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face that didn't reach your ponytail. The wind was starting to pick up anyway so it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Pierre opened up the camera app on his phone and took a few steps. Modelling wasn’t something you often did, only helping Lando out here and there whenever Quadrant had a new clothing collection. Pierre could see the hesitancy in your features and rolled his eyes at how stiff you were being.

“Chérie, you look good, just smile,” Pierre instructed, himself smiling as he snapped a few more shots. 

Still you were shy so instead of facing the camera, you turned around so your back was towards Pierre. You looked at the sunset over the water and hoped that the design on the back was photo-worthy.

After a few seconds, Pierre lowered his phone and started to scroll the photos he captured. 

“Is Lando the jealous type?” He asked. He didn’t look up, but when you turned back around you could make out a soft smile playing on his lips when he took a few extra seconds to look at one of the pictures.

“I’m not sure,” It was an honest answer. Lando rarely talked to you about that sort of thing. If there was ever a girl he liked, he’d bring it up to Max. Which was probably for the best seeing as it would have killed you to hear Lando talk about another girl.

Pierre opened up the Instagram app, “I guess we’re about to find out.” 

pierregasly

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell and 317,553 others

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pierregasly all gas[ly] no brakes

view all 39,217 comments

yourusername i hate that caption

pierregasly it's the name of the collection !!

leclercprince its the way y/n went from promoting lando's merch to pierre's merch in a mONTH

maxverstophim paddocks newest couple?? im here for it

sara.f1spam i did not have lando introducing pierre + y/n on my silly szn bucket list

------

Of course Lando saw the picture.

Well, Max saw it first, about an hour after Pierre made the post. Neither of them had been on their phones that evening, working on content for Quadrant instead, only taking a break when Lando ordered food. 

At first, Max thought it was your Instagram post he was looking at, but then he read the caption and then he read it about three more times before turning to Lando.

“Y/n’s in Monaco?” He asked, sliding his phone across the counter. 

At first, Lando was confused. His brows pinched together as he tried to make sense of the picture on the screen. And then he was annoyed that you were there with Pierre of all people, especially after he had cancelled your ticket so you especially wouldn’t go to Monaco. Finally, his features hardened. He tried not to let the caption get to him, or the fact that you were wearing Gasly’s merch, or how Pierre was probably the one who bought you that plane ticket which meant you were there specifically for the French driver.

But Lando was furious.

“Call her,” Lando slid the phone back, adjusting the hat on his head. He refused to meet Max’s stare, nor did he offer any explanation as to why Max should be calling her.

“What for?”

“Find out what the hell she’s doing in Monaco.”

“Well she’s clearly hanging out with Gasly.”

“Yeah but why?”

Max wanted to slap his best friend upside the head but settled on hitting his palms against the kitchen counter, “Because you basically sent her running straight into his arms you dimwit.”

Lando scoffed, “Did not- just call her.” 

Max really didn’t want to get involved. He hated being in the middle of his two friends, but he knew Lando wasn’t going to let this go so he dialled your number. Lando reached across the island before he could bring it up to his ear and grabbed the phone, hitting the speaker button instead and assuring Max he’d stay quiet.

“Oh so now you’re eavesdropping?” Max hissed at the driver. “If you want to talk to her so bad then-”

“Hello?” Your voice rang through the receiver, hitting Lando like a pile of bricks. He hadn’t spoken to you in three weeks. He didn’t forget what you sounded like, he could never, but he missed it. You were such a constant in his life and then suddenly you weren’t. 

“Hey!” Max sent Lando a glare, instantly regretting letting himself be dragged into this mess. “You’re in Monaco? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your bitter chuckle could have sliced through glass. Lando tensed when he heard it. 

“I didn’t know I had to.” she answered. 

“I mean-” Max stuttered to come up with a response. He looked to Lando for something to say but he was staying quiet. “Yeah I guess you don’t have to, but if I had known you were still coming to Monaco I would have switched my trip around. I’ll be in London for the next two weeks.”

“Why would you switch your trip around?” You asked, practically forcing Max into an uncomfortable position. 

“Because-” Max laughed off what he thought was a ridiculous question. “Come on, Y/N, we’re still friends.”

You paused. Max noticed it. Lando especially noticed it. Those faint two seconds before you sighed into the phone felt like an eternity to Lando. 

“Are we?” You questioned. “You’ve kind of taken his side.” 

His. You couldn’t even say Lando’s name. 

“No I haven’t,” Max tried to argue, once again, sending Lando a death glare. 

“Yes you have,” there was more assertiveness in your tone now, less wondering if you and Max were actually still friends. “Come on Max, you’re in London with him. You didn’t even think to tell me that you were coming to the UK. You’ve stuck by his side this whole time. You didn’t even-” there was a strained breath. “You were the only person who knew I loved him and after what happened- after that night, you didn’t think to ask if I was okay. You just stayed with Lando after I left. Getting rejected was one thing, but I didn’t think I’d lose both of you.”

Now it was Lando who was sending Max a look that could have sent him to the grave. Max knew about your feelings and didn’t tell Lando. This whole situation could have been avoided if Max had just given him a heads up, if he had intervened even the slightest bit. 

“Y/N I-”

“I gotta go,” you cut Max off, knowing that his half-ass apology would mean nothing. “If you come back to Monaco early, let me know. I do miss you and I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle but just remember that Lando’s not your only friend.”

Max should have just said okay. He should have recognized the way Lando’s stare hardened as he looked across the counter at him and he should have just told you that he’d talk to you later. Instead, he waited before hanging up like he was hoping you would say something else.

Those few seconds of silence that lingered left the conversation open for either of you to get the last word in. 

But it was Lando’s voice that filled the room, his own insecurities and spite took over as he leaned forward, ensuring you would hear and not mistake him for Max.

“Tell Pierre we say hi.”

Max counted three more seconds of pure, timid, silence before you hung up. Lando counted four. 

Max wanted to reach across the counter and slap his friend in the face to maybe knock some sense into him, but he settled for a look of disapproval instead, “You dickhead. Why’d you say that?”

“What?” Lando played dumb. “It’s not like she’s trying to hide the fact that she’s with Pierre. And if anyone’s pointing fingers, let’s talk about how you knew she had feelings for me and didn’t say anything. What’s up with that?”

Max held his hands up defensively, “It was never my place to say anything.”

“That’s a cheap excuse, mate,” Lando shook his head. “If I had known-”

“If you had known she loved you, you wouldn’t have treated her like shit?” Max turned the tables around before Lando could try and offer an alternative. “You would have stopped leading her on? You wouldn’t have treated her any different?”

“I never led her on.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Lando, you’ve been leading her on for years. Come on, you can’t be that oblivious to the way she looks at you. Y/N acts like you’re the one who puts the stars in the bloody sky. She thinks so highly of you, you are literally everything to her.”

“Was,” Lando corrected him. He backed away from the counter, like putting distance between himself and the phone was going to do anything. “She couldn’t care less about me anymore.”

“Well whose fault is that?”

Lando turned around. He wanted this conversation to be over. He wanted things to go back to how they used to be. He knew he crossed a line that night in the club but you weren’t a saint either, both of you said things you shouldn’t have and now you were both too stubborn to extend an olive branch. 

“You can’t just ignore her for the rest of your life,” Max pointed out, trying to steer Lando towards the path of making amends. 

“No, but I can’t be what she wants me to be either,” Lando kept his back to Max, not needing to be guilt tripped right now. He put away a few dishes that were drying in the sink, feeling his friend's eyes burn holes into the back of his head.

“Lando, she just wants you in her life,” Max said. “I think if you just talk to her-”

“She has Pierre,” Lando cut him off harshly. “She doesn’t need me.”

Max left it at that. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with Lando, at least not right now. He needed to just sit with his thoughts for a bit before Max could try to get through to him. 

Lando heard Max walk off towards another part of the house and he waited a few more seconds, just to make sure he was in the clear before pulling out his phone. He opened up Pierre’s instagram page and in the back of his mind he was praying that the post would be deleted, that Pierre realised he was playing with fire and regretted it.

But no, there it was, that picture of you in his sweater. 

You two weren’t dating, were you?

Pierre didn’t date, first of all, he had hookups. Lando couldn’t remember the last time Pierre was serious about a girl so the fact that he so casually was posting you on social media must have meant something. 

When he clicked on your profile, he noticed the colourful pink and orange outline around your icon and curiosity got the better of him. Lando wanted to know what you posted on your story. 

God did he instantly regret that. 

“MAX!” Lando yelled through the house, locking his phone and resisting the urge to throw it across the room. 

Max came sauntering down the hallway, an annoyed look on his face as he thought about what Lando could possibly need from him now.

“Change of plans, we’re going back to Monaco.”

yourusername added to their story

pierregasly added to their story

You had seen all of the tweets and comments of everyone assuming you and Pierre were an item. To be fair, you hadn’t put any of the rumours to rest during the summer break and neither had he.

But you and Pierre were most certainly not together.

The plan was to make Lando jealous, maybe get his blood boiling a bit. You were pretty quiet online but Pierre would post you any chance he got. This was fun for him and you had to admit, the attention was nice.

You knew Lando was back in Monaco, Max texted you the second the two of them landed. And you wanted to meet up with Max, but Pierre was doing whatever he could to make sure you had a good vacation. He didn’t even seem to care that it was his break. 

He had his head in your lap as a movie played on the screen in front of you. You hadn’t seen it before but Pierre had because he knew every second line by heart and would recite the words as if he was in the scene. 

When you started to run your fingers through Pierre’s hair, he hummed in contentment and you smiled to yourself. 

These last few weeks with Pierre had been so effortlessly fun. You didn’t have a care in the world. He made you feel appreciated. He took care of you.

And on top of all of that, he hadn’t even tried one of his typical fuckboy moves. You sort of expected it if you two were drinking, but Pierre was always a gentleman. The most he would do was walk you back to your bedroom at the end of the night and leave a ghost of a kiss on your cheek. 

If he was playing the long game, it was doing him favours. 

You were starting to actually like Pierre. 

When your phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you, Pierre reached forward and grabbed it. He snickered when he saw who had texted you, but didn’t voice his thoughts as he handed the phone over.

Lando: come pick up your things from my place before you leave monaco

“Not even a please,” you rolled your eyes. This was the first text you had gotten from him in a long time. You didn’t let yourself scroll up to read past messages otherwise your heart would sink if you caught a glimpse of the red love heart emojis you two shared. 

Pierre sighed and grabbed the remote, pausing the movie, “Shall we?” He sat up and your hand fell from his hair. He tugged on the string of the hoodie, his hoodie, you were wearing as your brows pinched together. 

“Well I don’t think he meant right now,” you shrugged, but Pierre was already up. He grabbed your hand to pull you off the couch as well.

“It’d be rude to keep him waiting, don’t you think?” 

You simultaneously hated that smirk as much as you loved it. Pierre was mischievous. He was never up to any good. You wouldn’t go as far to say he was the typical bad boy, but he certainly got your heart racing.

“Pierre we can’t just show up-”

“You worry too much,” he grabbed a set of keys that were left by the front door and urged you to follow. “I haven’t seen him in a while, I’d love to say hi.”

“You love starting drama, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. Pierre laughed in response as you followed him out the door. 

The drive to Lando’s place was short. It was a weekday and it was nearing midnight so there weren’t too many cars on the road. Each time the car passed under a street light, Pierre’s face lit up and you could still make out the hint of a smirk on his lips. 

When he noticed you staring, Pierre -still keeping his eyes on the road- reached across the middle console and rested his hand on your leg, “What are you thinking about, ma chérie?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your elbow against the side compartment and dropping your face to your hand, “If I ask you to stay in the car-”

“Not happening,” he interjected. “I want to see Lando’s face when he opens the door and sees me at your side.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why do you care so much about this? I don’t even care that much but it makes you happy knowing he’s pissed off.”

Pierre turned onto Lando’s street and stopped just outside his place. You watched as the features on his face hardened, his lips pressing into a tight line as he refused to answer your question.

You sat in the parked car for so long that the overhead light faded due to the lack of movement. The shadows only highlighted how tense Pierre was and the longer you sat there without an answer, the more annoyed you got.

This was a game for him, but this was your life. Lando was your friend. 

You undid your seatbelt and grabbed the handle. You opened it an inch and the light flickered on again but before you could go anywhere, Pierre leaned over you and slammed it shut again. 

You turned your head, finding yourself only an inch away from the driver's face. Your eyes darted from his down to his lips. When you opened your mouth to say something, nothing came out. A shaky inhale was the only sound that filled the space between you.

“Lando doesn’t deserve you,” Pierre’s voice was low. It hit you deep in the chest. He wasn’t going to let you out of this car until he knew those words sunk in. “Chérie, I’ve seen you for years follow him around the paddock like a lost pup, he doesn’t appreciate you.”

He raised his hand up to cup the side of your face. You were brought back to that night in the club. He pulled this same move that had you stammering over your words. But you were drunk then, you were sober now and he still had the same effect. You couldn’t tell if that was for better or for worse.

“I don’t get joy out of knowing he’s jealous,” Pierre clarified, his soft breath hitting your lips. The light above you two dimmed once more but his striking blue eyes were still piercing into yours. “I get joy out of knowing he’s not the one you rely on for happiness anymore.”

When his gaze dropped to your lips for a second you could have sworn your heart stopped.

“Pierre-”

A light coming on in the distance pulled your attention away from the Frenchman. You looked over his shoulder and noticed the porch light next to Lando’s front door was on. He must have heard a car pull up.

“Let’s go get your things,” Pierre said, brushing his thumb over your cheek. You had to stop yourself from grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back. 

If Pierre had tried to kiss you, you would have let him. 

You got out of the car, taking a second to compose yourself. Pierre waited around the front, arm outstretched for you to interlock your hand with his. The two of you walked up the driveway, Lando’s black McLaren bringing back all of the memories of the two of you driving down empty streets, singing along to whatever music played through the speakers. 

Pierre squeezed your hand right before you knocked on the door. 

It was like Lando was waiting on the other side. The door swung open. A very tired, very annoyed Lando stood there, bags under his eyes as his gaze landed directly on your hand connected with Pierres. You thought about dropping it for a second, but Pierre’s hold was too tight and Lando shouldn’t have had that control over you anymore.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said, voice hoarse. 

Stay strong, you told yourself. He was only being an ass because you were with Pierre.

“You’re the one that texted.”

“Didn’t think you’d come so soon,” Lando pulled the door open more, all but inviting you inside as he turned and walked into the house. You heard the sounds of a video game playing but when you glanced towards the living room, Max looked up from the couch and paused his game, offering you a shy smile.

“Where’s my stuff?” You asked, not stepping more than a few feet into his place.

Lando looked over his shoulder, sending Pierre daggers and completely ignoring your question, “So he just follows you everywhere now?”

“My stuff, Lando,” you repeated. Your hands were starting to get clammy. You told yourself that was why you let go of Pierre, not because you were ashamed of Lando’s disappointed stare. 

“Yeah it’s in here,” he shuffled across the tiled floor and towards the open kitchen. You waited a few seconds but it didn’t seem like Lando was about to bring anything to you so you took a breath and followed. 

Pierre took a step forward as well but you shook your head, telling him to just wait at the door.

There was a cardboard box sitting on the island counter with your name written on the side in black sharpie. Lando rubbed his eyes and then leaned against the surface, resting his arms on top of it as he nodded towards the box.

“Makeup, clothes…” he said, “A pair of shoes I think. I just grabbed everything that was in your room and tossed it in.”

Your room. 

It wasn’t your room anymore.

“Thanks,” you muttered, reaching for the box. It was lighter than you expected. Either you didn’t have that much stuff here or Lando did a shit job at grabbing everything that belonged to you. You propped the box against your hip and turned around.

This felt like a break up. 

Only, you two were never dating.

He had just been in your life since you were kids. He was someone you gave your heart and soul to and in return, you thought he had given you his. Lando was the first boy you had a crush on, the first guy you liked, the first man you loved. 

And now you were walking away from him with a box of your things in your arm.

“Will you be at the next race?” Lando’s voice stopped you before you made it to the front foyer. He was still leaning against the counter. If you turned your head to the left you could see Pierre leaning against the wall, waiting for you, but you kept your eyes on Lando. 

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. That wasn’t something you had discussed with Pierre. 

Lando scratched the back of his neck, “If you are then-” he cut himself off, inhaling a sharp breath and glancing away momentarily. “Yeah, okay, see you around then, maybe.”

There was more he wanted to say, you could tell just by looking at him. He had to fight to hold back whatever it was that he wanted to say to you. Maybe he wanted to apologise, maybe he wanted to argue, you had no idea. But by keeping it to himself he was holding onto that last piece of thread that connected the two of you.

And you were staying quiet too, not ready to drop that thread either, not ready to let go of that last piece of your friendship. 

But you wanted to apologise for everything you said. You wanted to drop the box and run to him and hug him until you lost circulation in your arms. You wanted to beg for things to go back to how they were. 

Ultimately, you knew that you couldn’t and there was one simple reason for that.

You still loved him and as long as you loved him, as long as he didn't love you, things would never be the same.

all parts here masterlist here

[kerryweaverlesbian]

for the prompts! 9&13 combined 👀👀

(From this post) (also here's the last one I did).

Castiel had escaped to the empty kitchen at the earliest opportunity as soon as the number of people in the map room had exceeded 8. He doesn't mind crowds, he quite likes them outside - the warm, hurried rush of humanity is quite endearing - but he'd become accustomed to there being a maximum of 4 in the Bunker, including him, so it feels almost claustrophobic to have more, even somewhere as large as this.

He's not surprised that Dean came to find him two hours in, though he is a little surprised that it took him so long.

"There's just so many of them," Dean complains, a little muffled against Cas's shirt, "I think the fuckers are multiplying. I turn around, there's two of them, I look again, there's five."

"The creation of a new prophet is a cosmic event. I certainly would have noticed," Cas says, mildly. He strokes soothingly down Dean's back with one hand, and takes a sip of coffee with the other. Dean grumbles and blindly pushes the coffee mug away from his head when it brushes against him, squeezing into Cas tighter with the strong arms around his waist.

"How many prophets does one god need? There's not that much interesting stuff that happens in the world. And more importantly, why the hell do they have to come here?"

"You invited them."

"Kevin invited them!"

"Because you told him to."

"Well, the kid needs more friends! He can't just hang out with you, me, Sam and Garth for the rest of his life. Anyway, it's definitely working out, I haven't even seen him for over an hour."

"I think he went to his room."

"What?" Dean pulls his head back from his embrace, appalled.

"He said he wasn't feeling up to it."

Actually, he'd muttered stupid Dean, stupid Bunker, stupid prophets, I wish none of them had ever been born, fuck my life, this is the Andover middle school dance all over again as he'd loaded his arms with chips and stormed out of the kitchen in the opposite direction to the gathering, but Castiel's powers of extrapolation had been improving over recent years.

"Then who the hell is this party for?" Dean complains, but he doesn't resist when Cas pulls him back to his nuzzled in position. He likes having Dean here, choosing his company as the antidote to others. Dean belongs in any place that brings him comfort, and Cas is lucky that in his arms is where Dean frequently finds it.

"It appears to be for 47 strangers who are better at getting along than we are." Then he tips his head. "48."

"What?" Dean squawks, pushing back from Cas's chest with alarm.

"They're multiplying."

Dean laughs, "You're an asshole."

Cas agrees with a hum. "You like that about me."

"Sure do. Get over here."

Dean's kiss is lingering, sweet and tender, and Cas's chest glows with it. It takes a second for Cas to open his eyes after, and he's treated to Dean's warm, relaxed grin.

"I guess I better go get rid of them so we can all stop hiding, huh?"

"That would be wise," Cas agrees, but tugs onto Dean's outer shirt when he starts to turn, "You've got..."

He smooths fixes the front of Dean's hair where it'd got smooshed in his impromptu snuggles with gentle fingers, then brushes his thumb over Dean's eye crinkles with affection on the way down from it, since he was in the area. The warmth in Dean's gaze when Cas meets his eyes again cannot be overstated, matched only by the feeling in Cas's own heart. He gets kissed again, and would've been happy to continue that way all through the party, but then there's a crashing noise from the direction of the war room, followed by laughter, which wrenches Dean's attention away.

"That's it," Dean says, untucking his gun from the back of his jeans, "I'm clearing house. Two minutes, tops, and we're free and clear."

Cas wishes him luck as he , and 30 seconds later there's the sound of a gunshot and Dean's voice authoritatively saying "Y'all better haul ass out of my house right now or the next one's hitting a body!", then the desperate scrambling of 47 people scrambling out of a single door.

In 30 seconds less than Dean's suggested timeframe, the place is empty but for its regular inhabitants again. Cas smiles into his coffee cup. They don't need anyone else to be happy.

@hauntedpearl hi Doe!!!! thank you for the prompts!! which were: Pressing their face into the other's neck, hiding from the world and brushing away an unruly lock of hair. I had been working on a Jo/Bela for this one but it wasn't working, and this one suddenly came to me in a vision this morning. So sappy. They love each otherrrrr. PS Sam's hiding in the armory lol. Not one of them likes big parties.

[11queensupreme11]

Me: I'm going to read Arsenic blues, wishing to see what the queen has to us ❤️

After reading the note: The fuck!?

Can't believe people are really stealing your job and asking why they haven't the right to it. People are crazier every time I check is half concerning and half amazing how their brains work

Have to be nice, living in that fantasy world for free and without Isekai yourself.

Be for real and growth. Write your own stuff and don't come here asking yourself why the author is mad when you literally just committed a CRIME

Anyway, great character as always queen! ❤️

It is amazing how Loki has one type, defender of rights only person here that knows about human rights and thinks they deserve it.

Loki's the "fuck around and found what happens" god and is always hurting him but he can't scape the consequences of his own actions

Dumb bitch, you're lucky you're hot

Baldur was the first to say: they deserve to live cause you created them and if they're bad it is because you all are worse, maybe if you all learn a minimum of moral they would be better ❤️

I love him, Loki really didn't deserve him, he doesn't deserve Percy either but Baldur is... *Chef kiss*

He was the first, if you know what I'm saying, it is even wonderful how a person (god) can be so kind without knowing what it really is. It is hard to be kind, but without an example!?

Made him the god of humanity and sent him far away from Loki's (too late)

Loki: what's wrong here? Him or me?

Me: You have one chance, and hint, it isn't Baldur you asshole

(That hint of karma. Poseidon is going to lose his daughter, one as loved as Baldur and it's just his fault cause he doesn't have a heart. Love that for him. I love him but I also love the drama)

(Maybe we're more like the gods that we like to think I guess)

Thinking about it, maybe Percy being too gremlin with him IS a good thing.

No matter what, that side of her, the way she's always ready to fight but also being ready to relax with him is his... Well, Loki is always on the edge, but her giving so much kindness to him is also pushing him away.

She chooses to spend time with him and genuinely enjoy that time when he isn't tricking her (to the surprise of EVERYONE including him)

(Percy, being too kind is one thing)

At least he's learning that maybe killing and hurting your loved ones isn't the best decision.

Took him millennials but progress is progress

For now, act 4 is going to give him a ticket express to that fall to madness

Beelzebub...

Well, his trauma is stopping him right now, but I trust him to find a way, it's the smartest one so I'm going to wait before saying something

(For once, the author's favorite is one of my favorites)

(Just laughed cause that is karma right there, you were the one always making the deals with bad ends, now is your turn babygirl. Still rooting for you king ❤️)

Thanks for the chapter Queen and remember, a alive Nico is the best kind of Nico ❤️

bro omg that plagiarizer was weird af. did you see the old ask asking for permission to make an hp x pjo x ror fic inspired by mine? THAT TURNED OUT TO BE THEM. they made a third wattpad account sfahdvbjhv ���😭😭

i made another chapter calling them out on wattpad and they deleted the books and fucked off (they'll probably be back with a fourth account 💀) but yeah, that's just weird behavior fr 😭

and also.... the thing i wrote about poseidon getting karma? yeah, that's a big ass hint for the future HEHEHEHE

and yesss percy actually does enjoy loki's company most of the times, he just ruins it by... you know, being an asshole to her sometimes, but other than that, she likes hanging out with him! she actually considers him as a friend (but beelie is her #1 bestie in the ror verse LMAO)

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 09 of 13}

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirtt with you... Much less that Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

•••

A Vision from Hell

 You couldn't drive for a while. When you got behind the wheel the next day, you couldn't do it. So, Billy, Tanya, and Liam took turns driving you through town until you got better. It took a few days, but they were patient with you.

 But the days passed by and you got yourself back together. But today, since you slept at Tanya's, she dropped you at the Hawkins Elementary School, where you tutored a kid. But now, after a small, routine meeting with the principal and some teachers, it's time to go. You're crossing the small parking lot when you see Max chatting with her friends.

 “I gotta go, I'm late.” She tells them, putting her skateboard on the ground and stepping on it. “Billy will be mad.”

 “No, he won't.” You speak up when you're close enough, making the whole party look at you. “I'm going there anyway. Wouldn't mind the company.”

 “Sure.” She shrugs, picking up the skate. “Guys, this is (Y/N). She's... Something of Billy's. Not quite sure yet.”

 “Hi, I'm Dustin.” One of them says, the one with curly hair, shaking your hand. “These other jerks are Lucas, Will. Mike and Eleven.”

 “Eleven? Like the number?”

 “El for short.” The girl nods with a small smile.

 “Alright, let's go.” Max tilts her head and after waving at the kids, you start following her.

 The day is warm, a little hot even, and you take off the light sweater you were wearing, tying it around your waist. You enjoy walking. Well, you enjoy walking here. The small town's slow pace is getting to you, and you like the simple streets and the many trees. Hawkins is a beautiful place, even though sometimes you feel like there isn't much to do.

 “So. You and Billy, huh?” Max asks after a while. “You two are together or what?”

 Blushing, you wonder if she knows Billy has been spending the nights with you. Almost every night, the only exception being when Neil is especially mad because you don't want him to explode at Billy. “We're... Seeing how things play out. Getting to know each other. Hanging out. Stuff like that.”

 “Stuff like that. AKA dating.” She teases, looking at you with a smile. “Whatever it is, it's good for him. He's less of an asshole ever since you came into the picture.”

 That's good to know. “Can I ask you something?” You continue when she nods. “You know I'm a little older than him, right?” Coming back to the same thought is tiring, you know it. But it's still something that hovers above your head. Not as much as before, but it's still there.

 “You're what? Nineteen?”

 “Twenty-three.”

 “You come out as being around his age. And even if you didn't I don't think that's a big deal.”

 “I just don't want it to be weird.” Max is part of Billy's life, and you want to be accepted by her. If she's ok with it, part of you feels relieved.

 “Look, stupid people will find it weird. Stupid people like Neil. But they don't get a say in it.” You reach the High School parking lot, walking around the few people still going home. “Those who really matter, friends and family, those are the ones who will support you, as long as you're happy.”

 “You're very mature for your age.” You tell her with a smile. “Thanks, Maxine.”

 “Call me Max.” She lightly elbows you, throwing the board on the ground and skating the short distance to Billy's Camaro. “Hey, shitface.”

 “You're late. Again.” You hear him saying as you walk around the hood, still out of his sight.

 “I had to walk instead of skating.”

 “Why? This thing is brand new, it can't be broken.”

 “I made her walk.” You say, smiling when Billy turns around to look at you.

 “Then it's you I should be mad at.”

 “I'm not scared of you.” You whisper, heat spreading through your cheeks.

 “Would the two lovebirds give it a break and drive me home before doing whatever you're doing?” Max complains as she gets inside the car.

 Billy's eye roll makes you giggle as you make your way to the passenger seat.

 Keeping the windows open, you feel the wind messing with your hair.

 “Jerkface, why are you driving so slow?” Max asks after a while, on the edge of her seat, leaning forward and holding on to both your and Billy's seat. “Did you wreck your car again?”

 “I'm under the speed limit.” He explains.

 “So you obey the laws now?”

 “I was in an accident I was a kid.” Turning your face to look at her, you gesture at the scar above your lip. “Got this after surgery to fix my wrecked lip. I lost my grandma and little brother that day.”

 “Oh, sorry.” She says, a sad expression on her face. “Drive safely,” Max tells her brother, slapping his arm.

 You wait for him to lash out at her, and by the look on her face, you know she's waiting for it too. But it doesn't come. Billy just rolls his eyes, hanging his arm out the window.

 “God, it's so hot.” The redhead complains as Billy enters their street. “Won't this heat wave go away?”

 “Not so soon. They're planning on opening the pool.” Billy adds.

 “Pool?”

 “Hawkins Community Pool. I worked there last summer as a lifeguard so they gave me a call.” Billy answers as he stops the car and steps out. You do the same but stand by the open passenger door. “They usually open in the Summer they're considering it because of this heatwave.” He gestures at the house. “Come. Neil isn't home, I'll show you the place.”

 “Alright.” Pushing the door close after taking your bag, you follow them through the sidewalk.

 “(Y/N), you're a tutor, right?” Max asks and you nod. “Could you help me? They'll only assign me to someone if I fail.”

 “Sure, I can help you off the records. What do you need help with?”

 “English. I suck and my teacher is definitely evil.” You enter the house as she speaks, looking around.

 “It's not the subject I'm tutoring but I can give you a hand. Just tell me when you're free so we can find a gap in my schedule.” Your eyes fall on the bench press in the middle of the living room, and it screams Billy Hargrove.

 “I'm free right now.” She exclaims.

 “Maxine, don't even think about it,” Billy warns.

 “Look, you're dating a decent, nice girl who is smart. Let me enjoy the benefits.” The girl snaps back, gesturing at the hall. “I'll get my stuff.”

 “Sure.” Smiling, you put your bag on the couch, but it falls and opens, spreading some papers around. “Shit.” You mumble as you kneel to catch them.

 Billy does the same, handing you a small pile of papers at the top of a notebook. “House of the Next Century?” He asks, and you look at the blue sheet of paper on the top of the pile.

 “It's an exposition from the Architecture School.” Putting everything back inside the bag, you stand up. “Liam's sister takes that course so she's involved and invited us.”

 “Sounds interesting.”

 “We can go if you want. But you know what else is interesting? Having a freaking bench press in the middle of the living room.”

 “Oh, you noticed.”

 “How could I miss it?” Walking over it, you check the weights. “Can you really lift those things? They're huge.” Holding the bar, you give a little push, but nothing moves.

 “I can make a show if you want.” Billy moves closer, but his eyes are on you.

 “You're so cocky, Billy.” Blushing, you look away, biting your lip.

 “When are you going to let me kiss you again?” He suddenly asks, taking you by surprise.

 You and Billy haven't kissed since that night, you're not sure why. “I don't know... On some special occasion, maybe.”

 “Special occasion, huh?” He says, a smirk taking over his lips. “I can work on that.”

 “You two can make out later, I need help,” Max speaks, making her way to the kitchen.

 “Duty calls.” Winking at Billy, you turn around and follow Maxine.

 The two of you get the kitchen table, and you have to read a couple of things to pick up what she needs help with. It's not that complicated, and you still remember some things from school, so it doesn't take much until you're explaining to her. Billy comes to the kitchen every once in a while, but as the night falls and after he makes the three of you a sandwich, he sticks around, listening.

 It gets to you that they're doing better. You don't think Billy hates his step-sister, they just annoy each other as all siblings do. And it even makes you laugh sometimes.

 “You could help me with History too,” Max says as she looks for chapter 7 of her book. “And Geography.”

 “I sure can.”

 “Maxine, stop stealing my girl's time.” Billy snaps, and you giggle.

 “I'm not your girl.” With both elbows on the take, a smirk comes to your lips.

 “Ouch!” The girl exclaims. “That must've hurt.”

 “Yet.” You decide to add soon after.

 “On your face, shitbird,” Billy answers, and you can't help but laugh.

 “The two of you are crazy.” You mumble in between laughs. “I really–” You're cut off not by the front door opening, and by the way Billy stands up abruptly, and Max's eyes go wide, you know who it is.

 “I told Anne we'd be joining them on Saturday.” A woman's voice speaks, and you wonder what you should do. Both Billy and Max seem nervous.

 “Alright then. She better make something good or else it'll be a waste of my damn time.” A man says, not sounding very excited about the woman's plans.

 “We have to-” Billy starts, but he stops talking the moment a man comes into the kitchen.

 Neil's eyes find you immediately, lingering for quite a while, flying then to Billy and Max. “Who is this girl in my house?” He inquires in a rude tone.

 “This is (Y/N). She's one of the tutors from the new campus and she's helping me study for the tests.” Max answers, and the woman, Susan, comes to the kitchen as well.

 Unlike Neil, she kindly smiles and walks over to you. “Hello, (Y/N). I'm Susan, Maxine's mother. Thanks for helping her.”

 “No need to thank me. I'm just doing my job.” You shyly say, shaking Susan's hand.

 “Come on, Neil. Let's leave them to do their thing.” Susan turns to face Neil.

 “What about you? What are you doing here?” He asks Billy.

 You can feel anger irradiating from him, and you just want to grab his hand and take him away. The atmosphere is heavy, almost tangible. You can tell Neil is trying not to let it show, but it's obvious. You can feel it. “Got hungry and made myself a sandwich.”

 “Then be a gentleman once in your life and make some for your sister and her teacher.”

 “He already did.” You speak up, way too abruptly, trying not to let your anger show. Under the table, you clench your fists.

 Neil nods exchanging a glance with his son. “Get back to your room then.”

 You shouldn't say anything. You should let it go and talk to Billy after. But you can't. “He's helping us.”

 “He is?”

 “Yes.” Max bursts out, looking at Neil. “He was making questions.”

 Neil doesn't believe it, but after glancing at Susan, he nods. “Alright then.”

 “She was leaving anyway,” Billy says.

 “(Y/N) could stay for dinner, right, honey?” Susan asks Niel with a smile. “To thank her for helping Max.”

 “That would be lovely, but I have somewhere to be.” With a forced smile, you stand up.

 “Me too. I can give her a ride home.”

 “Sure. Thanks, Billy.” Nodding, you walk around the table. “Max, let me know when you're free so we can continue, alright?”

 “Alright, (Y/N). Thank you.”

 “Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove.” You mutter, heading for the front door and stopping only to take your bag.

 Billy takes a minute to reach you on the sidewalk, and you wonder what Neil just told him. In silence, you both get into the car and you only relax when he drives away.

 “I'm sorry about that.” Billy apologies, eyes on the road. “I thought they'd be out until later.”

 “It wasn't your fault.” Reaching out your arm, you touch his shoulder. “I had a nice time with you and Maxine.”

 “Me too, (Y/N)...”

 There's pain in his voice, and it breaks your heart. “What's wrong?”

 “I don't want you near Neil. I don't want him looking at you as if-” He stops speaking, running a hand through his hair. “Neil has a taste for young girls. He cheats on Susan on a regular basis and I can't have him thinking about you that way.”

 You feel weird, remembering how he stared at you. “I'm sorry. But it doesn't matter now. Let's go home and order a pizza.” You only understand what you said when the words already left your mouth. And when you look at Billy, you see a smile he's trying to hide. So you can't take it back. You'll just let it be if it makes him happy. “I want pepperoni.”

 “Pepperoni it'll be then.”

 “Oh, and I have a request, Hawkins Community Pool lifeguard. Who do I have to pay to have that pool open? I wanna enjoy a free sample of Summer.”

 “I'll see what I can do for you, Princess.” He looks at you with a smile, the one that belongs to you alone.

•••

@aunicornmademedoit @alexa4040 @goth-cowgirl-03 @nyctophilic0vitnir @minispice-1

[mindful-mateo]

@rhysdasior

Mateo had not said nor would he say 'I told you so' but he definitely thought it, privately, when he wasn't with Rhys. It seemed like not so long ago the two of them had had a conversation about how it was risky to get so involved with Roland. Rhys had just wanted to ride it out, supposedly knowing that it would end eventually, but given the way he was moping (and yes, he was absolutely moping regardless of what Rhys would say) around because of Roland's disappearing act Mateo had been right in thinking it had already been too late. Still, he hated to see his friend suffering so he was there for him, as always, the strong shoulder to lean on. He'd invited Rhys to his suite for supper (if Mateo cooked for him Rhys usually would eat, he'd learned over the years), drinks, and just a general time to hang out and either be distracted or talk about it or both.

Everything was almost ready, most of the dishes just waiting to be served, and he heard the knock on the door. Rhys was punctual but Mateo had expected no less. He walked over and opened the door, smiling gently at his friend. "Hey, come on in." He stepped aside so Rhys could walk in then pulled him into a brief hug. "I won't ask how you're doin' but I've got booze, food, books, and movies to distract you. Whatever you need, mano."

He drifted back to the kitchen to get everything on plates. Over the years, he'd introduced Rhys to a variety of traditional Guatemalan dishes and he knew which ones were Rhys' favourites so he'd included those now. He knew not to put portions that were too big on Rhys' plate but he still gave him a bit of everything and carried the plates to the table. "Help yourself to whatever you want to drink." He'd gotten out a small array of alcohol, from a few different wines to some harder stuff. It wasn't a huge collection but he had a few bottles and figured Rhys could indulge (or overindulge, if he wanted) on whatever struck his fancy. It was a Friday night and Mateo intended on keeping Rhys here overnight since he wouldn't have to get up for work in the morning and he could probably use the company. Better than thinking of him sitting by himself with nothing better to do than miss the asshole vampire who'd dropped him like a hot rock.

[le-panda-chocovore]

TojiShiu Headcannon

Because I'm talking so much about the Fushiguro-Kong family, I'm thinking about all the ways this could happen. I want them to have the Fushiguro last name but having Toji get married thrice is a bit too much I think lmao

So here's a new timeline :

Toji follows the canon path except Fushiguro was Mamagumi's last name and he keeps it after her death. He never met Tsumiki's mom.

Tsumiki is actually the daughter of a target Shiu got killed, except the hired killer died too. Shiu called the client to ask if they knew about the girl but the client said to not kill her because they didn't stand child murder. So Shiu had no idea what to do with the kid, she didn't seem to have witnessed the assassination but maybe it's just the trauma and there was still some risk she'd learn later what happened. So Shiu took her home while wondering what the hell he should do with the girl, and while he was still trying to find a solution, Toji dropped Megumi and him and disappeared for two weeks. So Tsumiki met Megumi and she opened up to him and she seemed quite happy to have another kid around. Somehow Shiu grew fond of both of them.

He learned that she was abused so she isn't too sad about her parent's death, she actually feels safer with Shiu than she felt back "home."

Toji came back, said he made a deal with the Zenin, got into a huge fight with Shiu that happen like that : (sorry for the poor quality)

Toji : "What the fuck am I supposed to do then ??? I can't take care of him !! He'll be better with them !" Shiu : "You can't fucking sell your own son because you don't know how to take care of him. Plenty of people have no idea of how to raise a child, and you know what they do ?? They fucking learn ! They do it anyway !!" Toji : "Well if you know so much about parenting maybe you should keep him, ha ? Maybe I should just leave him to you since you care so much !" Shiu : "Yeah, maybe you should." Toji, surprised, confused, and finally noticing Tsumiki : "Huh. Didn't know you had a kid too. That's why you're so mad about what I'm doing with Megumi ?" Shiu : "I don't. She's not mine. I'm mad at you because you're an asshole." Toji, after thinking for a few sec : "You want to keep him." Shiu : "The girl likes him. She's an orphan, I don't know what to do with her, but she was quite happy having Megumi around. And your son needs company too. And a parent who cares." Toji : "And you do ?" Shiu : *doesn't answer but lights up a smoke, looking away* Toji : *stares at him for a while, sighs, then takes his things and leaves again without adding anything.*

Toji returned a week later, took Megumi back, moved into a better apartment, bought better furniture and new clothes, and tried his best to prove to Shiu that he could raise a child. That he did care. And when Shiu contacted him again for another job, he was still cold and distant, but he did say "Tsumiki wants to know how is Megumi" and Toji took that as an invitation (as he should) to propose to meet so the kids could hang out together. Then Toji paid for dinner, exceptionally, because he wanted to apologize but he's not good with words, then things happened and they started dating.

A few weeks later Toji and Megumi moved into Shiu and Tsumiki's house. a few months later Toji and Shiu got married.

So Tsumiki is Shiu's adoptive daughter and Toji's step-daughter, and Megumi is Toji's biological son and Shiu's step-son. Which is still a hilarious situation when you think about it.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

One day Skeleton wakes up in bed next to... Another him. It's not another AU version. It's just him, except it's not him because he is himself. The clone is here for one day and then just vanishes. What are the skeletons doing on this weird day?

Undertale Sans - They should, you know, probably do something. But man, they are both so tired just looking at each other. Both Sans agreed to do nothing at all and hope things will get better alone, and goes back to sleep in the same bed in a pile of bones. That is until they both realise they can make Papyrus crazy by being in two places at once and make his brain crash. Not an hour later, Papyrus is screeching hysterically as he can't continue with their shenanigans. Sans is a little sad the other Sans disappeared the next morning.

Undertale Papyrus - After the first shock of waking up in such a beautiful company than himself, Papyrus immediately takes things in hand to make the other Papyrus feel nice in his house. He goes into a full clean up session, in front of a very lost other Papyrus who's not really buying his shit. Papyrus is a bit anxious, and he's kinda stress cleaning and act like the other Papyrus is not here. Eventually, Sans will wake up and try to comfort them by saying it's just temporary. After that, the two Papyrus plots a revenge on Sans' pranks because clearly now they are in superiority.

Underswap Sans - They both jump out of bed, gun in hand and scream-asks at the other who he is. This is awkward, they talked at the same exact moment. Honey runs in the room after hearing the chaos and he just... sighs. This is going to be a long day. Once the two Sans calmed down, they obviously wants to hang together, which ends with them in a zoo riding a tiger while laughing hysterically. Honey wants this nightmare to end.

Underswap Papyrus - They both scream out of terror and throw themselves on the opposite sides of the bed. Once they realised it's just... Uh... Himself, it's very awkward, as none of them wants to talk first. So they kinda just stare at each other for a whole hour until Blue comes to wake his brother up and finds them like this. This is going to be a very weird day where Honey tries his best to avoid himself, while Blue tries to comfort the both of them, as they are scared of each other. Thank god it's only temporary.

Underfell Sans - "damn you look dumb" "fuck you, you look exactly like me!" "hell if i am, you're clearly weaker" "no you are" "you are" "you are" "shut up" "no you shut up asshole" They both growl like enraged animals for two hours before deciding that... man, that's too much work. They're going to try to figure what the hell is happening at Grillby's. Two hours later, they are doing a dirty jokes contest as they are both drunk.

Underfell Papyrus - Well, obviously, they immediately go full royal guard mode and try to kill each other, which is revealing hard as they somehow knows the other moves. They both accuse each other to be some evil clone send to replace the other and none of them are going to let go of this. They basically spend the day defending a side of the bedroom and threatening each other of murder if they dare to get close, until the other Papyrus suddenly pops out of existence the next evening. Edge will then trap the whole house to make sure it's not happening again.

Horrortale Sans - .... Uh. Oh well, he's probably hallucinating. It happens all the time. He laughs nervously. Wow, he really just imagines there was another himself in the room. But then he looks up, and the other Oak is still here, looking as confused as he is. They both realise it's real at the same time and then, uh... Just stare at each other like preys, ready to flee or attack if the other moves. From time to time, one of them let go a worried low uncomfortable growl or hisses. Willow opens the door. Both Oak freak out and starts to jump and run everywhere in the room like crazy cats, trying to escape one another.

Horrortale Papyrus - Man, it's too early for this. Willow ignores the other Willow and gets out of his room to go in the kitchen. He then proceeds to stress cook the entire day. Some time later, the other Willow joined him and now there's enough food to feed an entire city. Not that Oak will complain, sitting on the table and eating everything they give them. He's not bothered at all there's two Willow in the house.

Swapfell Sans - Well. That happened. They are both not too pleased about the situation, but that's ok, it's just for one day. They can totally be cordial and not try to kill each other before the end of the day... right? So they both decided to do something they know they would agree off: make themselves a cup of coffee. Except they can't agree of the type of coffee they want. When Rus wakes up, the living room is a war battlefied as both Nox are trying to blast each other behind the couches, screaming insults at each other that they are impostors because they clearly don't know anything at the art of coffee. Rus decides to let them fight and leave the room.

Swapfell Papyrus - They both giggle like idiots in bed, looking at each other. They have no idea why they're laughing. It's not funny. They probably broke the space time continuum, but man, they can't stop laughing. That's so stupid. They're both in feminine underwear. Rus wanted to try just for one night. He didn't expect to wake up with another Rus who had the exact same idea. They can't breathe anymore because something like that could only happen to them. If they have only one day together before it's the end of the world or something, they have to do something stupid. They broke in the national natural museum in feminine underwears and dresses all the animals and dinosaurs with feminine underwear. The only problem being the other Rus disappear in the middle of the operation and he accidentally ringed the alarm doing so. Nox refuses to take him out of jail before two days.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Wine is not happy another Wine just... appeared in his room. After all, it can only be one of them, his huge ego can't take the fact he's not unique. And the other's one ego is just the same. They immediately jump at each other's throat and won't stop attacking until they are both laying on the floor with only 1 HP left, unable to even move. They end the day insulting each other on the floor until they pass out. That's pathetic.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - At first both very shy, they both quickly realise the advantages of being two like... the ability to hug each other without having to ask anyone to do it. Man, they are already planning a life of ermits where they would only need each other to avoid social life. That's so cool. Until the other Coffee disappeared, that's it. Coffee is hearbroken and he refuses to leave his bedroom for two days after that, begging Wine to bring back the other Coffee. Wine has no idea what the hell he is talking about.

[gttinyprincess]

Willing chapter 3

TW: period typical homophobia.

"You want some?"

(Y/N) blinks back to reality, picking his head up to look to his side. He's sitting on the bench hidden in the forest behind the school, a little spot for people to relax and smoke. He'd planned to sit alone and sort out his thoughts, however it seems someone had other ideas.

Beside the wooden table stands Hawkin high's most infamous student. Eddie munson. In all his long hair and denim clad glory.

The jock glances down to eye the hand held out to him, a joint pinched in between his fingertips. (Y/N) smiles but shakes his head at offer "thanks but I'm good, man." The metalhead shrugs "suit yourself" he says moving to sit beside the other teen as he feels around his pockets for a lighter. Any other time (Y/N) would take Eddie up on the offer, but he's meeting Billy soon and he's not too sure how the drug might affect his vampiric friend. He'd rather not accidentally spike the blonde.

Eddie's quiet as he lights up and takes a drag "it's been awhile since we last hung out" the tone has (Y/N) raising an eyebrow. Eddie clearly has something he wants to get off his chest. "Yeah, a good couple of weeks" he agrees, eyeing the metalhead as he waits for the other shoe to drop. "You've been hanging with Hawkin's kings a lot lately."

Here we go.

"I get that you had trouble with them in the past-" he sighs "it's not that, (Y/N). They're assholes" Eddie frowns, meeting his friend's gaze "I don't want them rubbing off on you." (Y/N) sighs leaning back on his hands, the wood of the table's surface is rough beneath his palms "I'm not going to forget about you, Eddie." He couldn't even if he tried to, the metalhead was an enigma. He's not someone you can get out of your mind easily. "They aren't bad guys" Eddie scoffs and (Y/N) shoots him a glare that has him holding his hands up in surrender. "Steve and Billy have changed a lot, they're good people" now it's Eddie's turn to glare.

"They're bullies and stuck up pricks" Eddie takes another drag "you're one of the only decent jocks around here, it'd suck if that changed" he sighs. "Aww, I'm only decent?" (Y/N) changes the subject knowing they'd just be going round in circles again if he tried to plead his case. Eddie huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes "well your company isn't terrible, but I just don't think you're weird enough." The jock laughs loudly "you should really fix that" he teases leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder.

He liked hanging out with Eddie. He didn't feel like he had to put up such a macho front like he did with the other jocks. He didn't have to put up with the slaps on the back or bum, Eddie was more of a hugger, clingy in a way but not overwhelming. He respected (Y/N)'s boundaries and always seems to know when he needs some quiet company. All in all the jock and the freak were an unlikely duo, but they made it work.

Admittedly (Y/N) knew it was a jerk move to ask Eddie to hang out after school, but he couldn't get over the idea of Eddie not getting along with his friends. It's a selfish thought, but he wants them all to hang out together. To prove Steve and Billy had changed for the better.

So a quick phone call and the promise of beers has Eddie agreeing to swing by after he gets changed, again. (Y/N) had caught the metalhead right after he'd gotten into his PJs for a lazy day.

"That's a yes from Eddie" the jock smiles as he hangs up the phone, turning to face the guests leaning against the kitchen counter talking quietly. Billy grunts his acknowledgement, pulling a face "I still need to feed" he points out, eyeing the expanse of (Y/N)'s neck "should probably get that over with before he gets here."

He doesn't need to say much more than that, his friend is already tugging off his shirt and setting it aside on the counter. "Take what you need" (Y/N) coaxes moving towards the blonde, tilting his head to the side to show off the smooth skin of his neck. Billy's hands find purchase on the teens waist as he leans in to trail his lips along his throat.

He knows it's just Billy's instincts. His mind reminds him of it every time the vampire feeds, but it's easy for his heart to want more. Easy to imagine what his lips might feel like against his own. Sometimes he wonders what Billy would say if he knew what went through his mind and he cringes. Unfortunately even his daydreams can't conjure a positive reaction.

He'd be pissed if he found out. Disgusted at the selfish reason (Y/N) allows himself to be bitten. Men shouldn't think the way he does about his friend. Billy could get pretty heated at the best of times, (Y/N) can only imagine the heat he'd get if he was ever open with his feelings. No doubt he'd lose his shit at hearing he'd been hanging around a fag this whole time.

Hands rub against his skin, running from his elbows to his shoulders in a soothing repetitive pattern. (Y/N) leans back against Steve's chest, accepting the comfort he offers them.

Steve is more than happy to take (Y/N) into his arms, smoothing his hands across the teens skin. "You're good" he mumbles, resisting the urge to bury his nose in their hair. It feels silly to admit that he's quite jealous of the situation (Y/N) is in. He had hated the idea of being bitten when he first found out about Billy's true nature, but ever since he'd let Billy drink from him it's all the jock can think about. Maybe he could suggest the vampire feed on him next time.

Billy's eyes flick up to meet his own, peeking up at him through long lashes. The vampire has his face tucked into (Y/N)'s shoulder as he drinks, despite those dark eyes being focused on him. So different to the blue eyes he had so often associated with the blonde. Come to think of it, both Billy and (Y/N) had been on his mind a lot lately. Their smiles, their laughs, they took up constant residency in his mind. Had he always thought about them this much? Maybe he had always had (Y/N) on his mind, but Billy hargrove? That was admittedly a little surprising. They had started off as rivals afterall. Yet here he is, mind still hooked on the vampire.

Steve's hand traces up (Y/N)'s bicep, eyes still caught on those icy blue ones. His hand continues up, hesitantly threading through Billy's golden curls. The vampire hums against (Y/N)'s skin, his eyes slipping closed as Steve pets his hair. Nails lightly tracing over his scalp, he hadn't expected Billy to allow him this.

A repetitive knocking has the three of them jumping, jolting from each other's embrace. "Shit that'll be Eddie" (Y/N) guesses. "It's okay. I'll keep him occupied and you..." Steve says pointing to Billy "clean up."

He leaves the room to stall for time. Billy didn't get nearly enough blood, they all know it. But he can't worry about that now.

Eddie is confused to find Steve Harrington opening the door for him, the jock plasters and easy going grin on his face despite looking so flustered. "Hey Eddie" he exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans on the doorway. Eddie jerks his head up in a nod "Steve." The air is awkward as Steve leads the metalhead into the living room, not long after (Y/N) and Billy hargrove make their way into the room with a beer for each of them.

(Y/N) taps his nails on the tin of the can as they sit opposite Eddie "sorry, I forgot to mention Steve and Billy were coming over" he apologises but Eddie simply waves him off. However it's clear that the metalhead is clearly more withdrawn than his usual self.

A few beers in and he begins to warm up to the group a little bit, though (Y/N) knows he's holding back still. Being weird at school in front of a crowd around his friends is one thing but being weird at a small personal gathering and knowing only one person there is a whole other situation.

Billy isn't fairing much better. The blond taps his foot repetitively as the group sit and talk. They know Billy didn't get nearly enough blood to sate him. He can still taste the sweet tang of (Y/N)'s blood on his tongue which only serves to invigorate his thirst.

(Y/N) offers to get new beers for everyone as he heads into the kitchen to throw away his can. The beverage hisses as he cracks the tab, basking in the refreshingly cool liquid as he takes a sip. The tense atmosphere in the living room feels suffocating. Maybe it had been a bad idea to try and merge his friend groups.

"What's on your mind?" (Y/N) chokes on his, jerking the can from his lips as he's startled. "Ah shit!" He curses, holding his free hand to his mouth as he turns to face Billy. "Dude, I thought we talked about this? Don't sneak up on me like that" (Y/N) hisses with no real heat behind their words.

Billy ignores his complaint, stepping closer to the jock. They still as he gently grips their chin, scrutinising their face with a concerned gaze. His cheeks feel warm under Billy's gaze, a thumb lifts to prod his lower lip. Ice blue eyes have him pinned in place, unable to look away. Any words the man might have stick in his throat as the blond leans towards him.

(Y/N) is sure he must be dreaming when cool lips capture his own. It doesn't make sense for the jock to kiss him. Billy makes his attraction to women known with every other breath, he wouldn't kiss another boy.

(Y/N) hisses as his lip stings under Billy's tongue. A cut, he'd cut his lip on the can. Billy wasn't interested in kissing him, he wanted the blood coating his lips. The realisation has his chest squeezing painfully. Just another instinct tied to Billy's vampirism.

A large warm hand cups his cheek, the thumb brushing his ear softly. Billy kisses the human deeply, groaning at the sweet taste of blood on his tongue. He wants more of it, needs more. He wants to drain (Y/N) of every precious drop, like a man dying of thirst.

(Y/N) is stiff against him, his lips remain frozen against him. It'd be disappointing if not for the sweet distraction he's chasing. A gasp from the kitchen doorway has Billy's head snapping up to find Eddie standing, mouth agape as he stares at the two men. He wants to growl at him to leave, let him go back to drinking in (Y/N). But hands on his chest force him to take a few steps back, breaking his mindset.

"It's not what it looks like" (Y/N) claims, voice climbing in pitch. "It's cool, I'm chill with it" Eddie attempts to reassure them with his hands held up. The jock groans, frustrated "no, you don't understand. I cut my lip and well he's" (Y/N) cuts himself off, shooting a truly pitiful look towards Billy. He's trying not to expose him and that's sweet but... "I'm a vampire." Billy could care less about his cover being blown right now, he's been interrupted whilst feeding twice now and it's really starting to irk him.

Eddie pauses to blink at them before he laughs "dude relax, I'm not against it. You don't have to make up weird ass excuses" he shrugs, still smiling. "You don't believe them?" Billy speaks up from their side to which Eddie shoots Billy a deadpan look "no, I don't" Eddie says rolling his eyes as if it's the most ridiculous excuse he'd ever heard.

And yeah, maybe it would be a stupidly weird excuse... if they had been regular teens. But Billy's never been a regular teen...

Billy moves too quickly for either student to react. He shoves the metalhead against the wall, hands fisted in his shirt, fangs bared in the teens face. "JESUS H CHRIST!" Eddie exclaims, hands held up in a fearful surrender. "That good enough for you?" The vampire's snarl is dangerously soft as he speaks. (Y/N) can only watch on, frozen in place as the vampire holds his friend up against the wall, Eddie's hands scramble aimlessly behind himself on the wall.

"Or maybe this?" Eddie scrunches his eyes closed, trying to push himself further back into the wall as Billy leans in to lick a slow purposeful line up the front of his throat. "Fuck, man! Please, I'm sorry!" He whimpers in the vampire's grip.

Eddie smell so good, so fucking good. He presses his nose to the skin, breathing in the sweet aroma of blood pumping just beneath the skin. He draws his lips against the throat, opening his mouth to graze his teeth along the surface. He feels intoxicated.

Finally (Y/N) manages to shake himself from his stupor, quickly moving to put himself between the metalhead and the vampire. He flattens a palm against Billy's broad chest, keeping him at a safe distance. "Billy" (Y/N) warns softly "you don't want to hurt him" he keeps his tone even, but that look on Billy's face keeps casting the poor teen back to their first encounter.

A feral look shining in those pretty blue eyes, pinning the two humans to the spot. Billy had terrified him back then, but not now. Not when he knows that his friend would never hurt him.

Meanwhile Eddie clings to (Y/N)'s shoulders, eyes wide and shaking with terror. "I know you're hungry...I can help with that. But not him, you promised no randomly feeding on strangers anymore" (Y/N) speaks softly to the blonde, trying to keep his attention on them.

Billy shifts his gaze to meet Eddie's big brown bambi eyes. He looks so on edge, terrified even. Pretty. "He smells good" his voice is low and dangerous, eyes never leaving Eddie's. (Y/N) pushes on Billy's chest when he tries to move forwards on impulse, Billy's eyes flick down to the hand pressed firmly against him. Warm and solid. "I smell good?" Eddie panics, gripping the teen's shoulder tighter which has (Y/N) reaching back with his free hand to touch the man's side in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

Luckily he's saved from having to try to talk Billy around that as Steve enters the room. "I heard shouting, what happened?" He eyes the scene and suddenly Billy is focused solely on him, icy blue slowly beginning to bleed into the red of his eyes. He'd forgotten about Steve momentarily. But now with him standing in the kitchen doorway he remembers. He's been replaying the moment he fed on the man over and over in his head every day since. He and (Y/N) were so tempting. But he was allowed to taste (Y/N), all he had to do was ask. But Harrington had been a one time thing.

"Eddie knows. Billy slipped a little, I'm trying to bring him back" (Y/N) fills him in whilst not taking his eyes off of the vampire. Steve nods, turning his attention completely to Billy. "Hey Hargrove" he greets softly. Slowly he raises his hand palm up, outstretched to the man who glances at the limb and then back to Steve's face. "You're still hungry right?" He coaxes gently.

The crimson completely overtakes his eyes again before the blue bleeds back into them slightly. "You can feed on me but we need to go to the living room first, yeah?" Billy eyes Steve's neck, licking his lips before nodding and stalking towards the human, having completely forgotten about (Y/N) and Eddie.

The two stay quiet as Billy takes Steve's hand and allows the jock to lead him out of the kitchen. Giving it a moment (Y/N) then steps away from Eddie to turn and face him. Now the hard part. He grasps Eddie's shoulder, but fails at drawing the metalhead's attention. "I get that you're scared and that was a lot, but if you just trust me I'll explain everything." Eddie turns his eyes away from the door Billy had disappeared through to look at (Y/N). "I won't let you get hurt" (Y/N) promises looking so damn determined that Eddie almost believed he could fight the vampire off bare handed if he needed to.

"Five minutes, then I'm gone" the brunette mumbles, already regretting his agreement but the smile (Y/N) gives him is too bright for him to care about the possible consequences.

Leading Eddie back into the living room, (Y/N) convinces the metalhead to sit down. Billy and Steve are on the opposite couch, the vampire is too busy nosing at Steve's to notice the two humans. He can't see Steve's face since it's hidden in the crook of Billy's jean jacket, Eddie flinches watching Billy sink his fangs into the jock's neck. The arms around his waist tighten pulling the man closer, flush against the vampire as he feeds and Eddie can't seem to look away from the disturbing scene. He subtly pinches the skin of his forearm, wincing at the pain. He's awake, this isn't a dream.

Eddie finally tears his eyes away from the scene to look at (Y/N) who sits quietly beside him, observing the scene with no shame or fear present on his features. How long had they been 'feeding' Billy?

"So how did you find out he was a...vampire?" It feels weird to acknowledge that this is reality. The question breaks (Y/N) from his staring and he turns to face Eddie. His friend seems reluctant to answer the question for a moment "by accident" he shrugs "kind of how Steve found out, caught him feeding and well that was that." The answer is vague at best and as Billy pulls away from Steve it's clear he's debating saying something, but decides better of it.

Billy wipes the small traces of blood from his lips, shifting Steve's limp form to lay back against the couch back. Eddie flinches when he stands up and (Y/N) puts his hand on the metalhead's knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Billy eyes the action but says nothing as heads out of the room.

He almost wants to protest when (Y/N) switches to sit beside Steve on his couch, pulling his loose body against them as he speaks softly. "This is normal," he brushes Steve's hair back. "We think Billy has some kind of...thing in his bite to relieve the pain and coax his meals to be more compliant." Eddie grimaces at his friend referring to himself as a meal.

He nearly jumps out of his seat when Billy sits down beside him, having magically appeared out of nowhere. The latter seems unbothered by his reaction, sliding a toastie across the coffee table. (Y/N) thanks him with a soft smile "you don't have to be so on edge, Eddie" he talks as he coaxes Steve to eat the food Billy had made him. "Billy won't need to feed till next week." It's an attempt at reassuring him. "We have a schedule that works for us, so I don't get too worn out." It's then that it hits him. It's not Steve and (Y/N) feeding Billy, just (Y/N). Steve is simply a one off.

Pushing the new knowledge aside he finally gets the courage to ask a question. "What did you mean by I smelt good?" He eyes the vampire cautiously. The blonde doesn't seem bothered by the look, leaning back on the couch with his arm resting over the back. Completely at ease. "Some blood just tastes better than others and you..." he shoots Eddie a grin as he looks the metalhead up and down "smell delicious." If he was trying to unnerve the human then it's working.

"Billy quit freaking him out" (Y/N) scolds, shooting him a sharp glare. "So you're not going to bite me?" Eddie asks tentatively. "No, unless you're offering?" He grins and Eddie leans further into the armrest, eyes wide and freaked out only for Billy to throw his head back and cackle at his reaction. He gets scolded by (Y/N) once more, the jock lobbing a pillow at the vampire's head for good measure.

The room settles down after that with (Y/N) managing to convince Steve into finishing most of his toastie. Billy's eyes stay glued to the duo under an almost protective gaze, that is till he feels eyes boring into the side of his own head. "Can I help you?" He asks, turning his head to face Eddie and smirking when the metalhead jumps. "Sorry, you just don't look as vampiric as I would've expected" he rushes out.

The blonde grins, making a show of running his tongue along the large fangs that hadn't been there before. "Sorry I'm not as ghoulish as you'd hoped for" to which Eddie sputters. "Billy don't taunt him, he's not used to you yet" (Y/N) cuts in and to Eddie's suprise Billy backs off. He moves over to the other two humans, taking Steve into his arms. He holds the former king bridal style as he lets (Y/N) know he'll take the teen to bed.

Billy heads upstairs, holding Steve close to his chest as he climbs them. "Should we really leave Steve alone with him?" He asks once the blonde is out of sight. "Billy isn't going to hurt him, they're friends...of sorts" (Y/N) reasures.

"How long has he been feeding on you?" Eddie asks after a moment. "About ten months ish" he explains "a couple of months, about mine I think" he shrugs sitting back with a soft smile as Eddie moves to sit beside him "any other questions?"

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Dude, your friends sound fake. Normally I don't judge other people, especially if ai don't know them personally, but based on your posts your friends sound REALLY fake.

But the thing is, your in highschool, and all these things like your friend's "social life" and your fake friend group are going to look straight up moronic when you grow older. What's happening is that your depending on other people for your comfort, depending on them for validation, and ignoring what you actually need to do.

And what you need to do? Concentrate on school. Even if makes you want to bash your head against the wall, concentrate on your studies, push forward, try and distance yourself from those people because all they're doing is bringing you down with them into their shit and not allowing you to progress.

I know it's easier said than done but you have to do it, otherwise, you'll just stay with them or worse, be fake and Superficial like them.

Your grades are what's going to get you out of there, it's what's going to allow you to leave those stupid friend groups and connect with actual normal kids that aren't toxic and dramatic.

You need to stop doing things for other people, and do it for yourself.

You need to get amped up and stop bottling everything inside and and getting sad when they don't notice. Tell them to fuck off and just stop, literally stop hanging out with them, who the fuck cares about what they say or do? Literally who??? Is the world ending because they don't like you?

See how they're dragging you down?

They're just a bunch of punk kids who's brains aren't developed yet and don't have any grasp of maturity. You don't have to be like those kids, you can just be yourself and forget about who says what because they're not YOU.

But if you keep wallowing and drowning yourself in your own pity about how bad these friends are and how your sad about them, then I'm sorry but your just going to keep feeling like shit all the time and never get anything done.

Leave those assholes, leave them, don't overthink it and don't second guess it, just fucking stop talking to them and forget that they exist. Trust me, I've had toxic friends and drama in HS and all my life, they dont deserve it and they don't care either, so why should you?

And if you feel bad about being alone, then sometimes, it's better to be alone than in bad company. Their company isn't worth it, even if it looks good.

As for the topic of your abuser and your trauma, your abuser is a piece of shit and is just as bad as your friends. If you go back with your abuser, it's going to be the same thing. Trauma isn't something you forget, but it is something that you learn to live with, and you need to get better, YES OR YES. The more you tell yourself that you won't get better and how this is your life, the worse it gets.

This is YOUR life, it sucks, but it's yours.

And as someone who has suffered and also has some issues of my own, I can tell you that these people aren't worth it.

So yeah I apologize if this came off as Brash or rude, but I know what it's like. I hope this advice helps you.

You're right

But, when it comes to my friends, a lot of it is in my own head.

One of my friends in my group told me that last year he didn't see me as friend and more of an acquaintance an told me he looks down on my a lot (Dude was kind of a narcissist, he was in bad place)

Now, however, he sees me more as friend. After I have episodes the rest of the day I'm still instable and not 100% there

so when I made that post, I made it sound WAY worse than it actually was

At the end of the day I know they care about (To a certain extent,) , and they were the people that made me realize what friendship was

I'm not gonna cut myself off from them, but I'm gonna take a break from them for a bit.

With my abuser, you're 100% right, no doubt about it.

The issue is I'm weak, and out of everyone I know, he's the person im most scared of. So if he asked me to do something I really don't wanna do, I'm gonna do it because I'm scared.

[the-firebird69]

Bob Iger's Upsetting Walt Disney World Announcement Sends Shockwaves Across Central Florida - Inside the Magic

Those guys are morons he wants to shut it down to make sure he hangs on to the castle and you can't stand the max plan so he's using it as a threat as the next planned when our son and a lower sun is into our sun is into doing our job isn't necessarily light going on and he knows he had something to do with it but these people are a bunch of rude pieces of poop but this doesn't work and that he and she thanked Trump for pointing himself out with this massively idiotic article which points himself out. And is made enemies with Central Florida and yeah they hate him they want him out. There are several other things happening but this kind of announcement needs to be paid attention to he's trying to close the park down and we want him out out of the park and he's the idiot who made Disney its own town and stuff I didn't do anything right and lost that to DeSantis and is trying to contaminate meals ruin people's stays and hurt people on the site all the time and there are fights up there between his staff and people and his staff get brutally beaten. Because of this in the uniform it took a look at Sears and the two idiots introduced themselves one at a time by the way that's working there and try to make it look like Sears did it when they don't like the company because Dave founded it and survived as a Jewish guy. Now they want Dave back and the sick of watching this f****** puke and that's what they call him they're tired of seeing this idiots and they want them all dead because of these two morons and they're way. They're playing to nail you today ironically enough we are too and we wait and we do it after usually for something different. So it took a look at Sears and we were wiping out the people around it cuz we've seen you mean. And the match started doing it cuz I heard it. That led to the toilet paper issue and we found you hoarding toilet paper and we know you use it for you're making it into a pulp to make crude devices and Dave Dan you're a cool as f*** clueless is f****** and dumb as s*** and yeah smart people know about dumb people methods and it's actually very funny look at these big assholes there's two ass wipes and they're stupid toilet paper collection. We don't know if you know what to do with it and now sun says I think they're going to try and jam it up their ass look at tampon cuz I'll probably keep s******* it out he's right too you suck at this Trump keeps stopping you because you have robots those are going away now and we think your time is at hand and in a month you'll be gone and the toilet paper is an indicator and the stupid toilet paper here in this dumb apartment is also a given away. You know your training for but you just we just can't find any even though I'm scanning is better than George's and will and Bill but you have no proof of that or that we exist so you can do whatever and we need that believe it or not it's very much needed

And yeah Trump is the one running Disney so he starts blabbing saying all sorts of dumb things and he doesn't know if he's talking about the truth or not and he ends up dead later and it's really not his simpletons but okay and we're working on stuff and this morning we heard him make a peep about Brad and trying to drag him out in warrior format and Brad checks it out and started sticking these pigs that are stuck and said don't die on me I need to make an example out of you really her son says boy that sounds like Brad and then right Lily and Lily says it does sound like him and he's right on the money he's right as rain as usual we're going to keep it simple and straight they got us into this fight we're going to get out of it. Jason says yeah you're right this guy sucks Trump has to go and he screwed up Disney and when are they taking it over someone has to and that'd be nice idea it'll be tons of money merchandise and can come out of there out of the surrounding area rather than nothing we are being taken over right now though would be a little odd with all these Minnie mouse taking over the place but Lily loves the place and I talked about it and I'm not sure how to do it.. that was Jason and Lily and they're talking about taking over Walt Disneyland and you'd have to take over all of Disney and there's nobody really poised to do it except to us and we want to so we're going to look into it in a serious way because the place needs to be fixed upgraded and okay the pseudo empire is to do it and they know how it works Mac is wanting to be in the castle all right so we understand their method no sun would be moving around in houses and Mac would be telling him and I could think he is in the house that goes to Disney or our son is and in fact or become the Disney Castle castles actually and yeah that's a little small to be two castles but the castles together or not that big so he'll be running around thinking he's inside it and he does check that stuff and he might be that's what we say and that's actually the bad part so he says it's going to be for a long time and her son says they want to install a Superman curse and things like that but it was originally in my castle in Hera's and I'm saying that Hera that we did have it built now we built it and it's ours that's why it's cursed. So she's having a little fun with him but that's why and they're going to be tooting around in it getting the s*** kicked out of them but they're happy when they're inside these things and the others will find the other houses

Thor Freya

Olympus