#'look at this fucking mess. see how fucked up i can be catherine'

[brotherblaze]

JAILBAIT³ —simon 'ghost' riley

▹ simon 'ghost' riley/gn!reader

▹ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

▹ synopsis: it's time to go home and Ghost finds himself realizing there's never enough time to spend with you.

▹ cw: suggestive themes, a sprinkle of angst

▹ wc: ~3,5k (idk what happened)

▹ please don't try to 'educate' me abt what 'jailbait' means especially if you haven't even read the fic

You pointedly ignore the rookies working out as you step into the gym.

Even when you pass the ones Ghost had scared shitless just days earlier, you keep walking, ignoring the familiar pull of desire to antagonize. The idea of messing with them is chased away the moment it arrives but yet it tries to linger. One last laugh at their expense, one last display of power that hinges on the existence of the hulking mass of a man you call your boyfriend (one that wouldn't even exist without the ties that bind you to him).

But between the desire to antagonize and the desire of spending money that isn't your own, Simon (and his money) reigns supreme.

Ghost has retreated to the very back of the gym. He's sitting on the floor, stretching, when you come into view. It's like he's drawn to you like a magnet, his sixth sense of your presence is honed to nigh-perfection because he's already looking in your direction when you see him.

He's shirtless, though still wearing his balaclava. For a moment, you allow your eyes to trail his impressive physique, the scars and burns and bruises a collection of constellations that make up Simon Riley.

"Men are being sluts again, nature is healing." you place your hand over your heart, glancing up as if to thank a higher power and Ghost can't help but roll his eyes at your antics. "I'd also love to see you all oiled up, by the way, or with a collar and a leash—either works, honestly. Just like, a little something to think about."

"Too much of a good thing..."

You don't reply immediately and Ghost can practically see the gears turning in your head, brows slightly furrowed, nose scrunched and lips parted. "A large piece... will split your mouth." A moment of silence, and then a look of disappointment. "Why do I even bother trying to translate proverbs? I hate English—horrible, ugly language."

It's not that he's laughing at you, or your inability to translate ("Shut up, Colonizer, how many languages can you speak?" you'd hissed at him once and Simon had promptly bit his tongue because you know seven languages and how could he ever compete with how effortlessly you speak them?) but because he likes your ability to slip into a wholly different language so effortlessly. You jab him in the calf with the nose of your shoe.

"What do you need?" Because you wouldn't set foot into a gym voluntarily if it's not the first thing in the morning just moments after the cleaning crew has left. Something about the mixture of sweat and the scent of axe body spray making the inside of your nose ache. He eyes the black surgical mask you're wearing.

"Why would I need anything? Maybe I just wanted to see my boyfriend who is very handsome, by the way." You bat your lashes, the flashy fake lashes fluttering. They're heavy but it's worth it for the dramatics.

Ghost raises a pale brow.

"Fine, I may be here with a proposal." You unlock your phone with one hand and pull the false lashes off with your other. You hand your phone to him, a picture pulled up on the screen, and dig into your pocket for the lash container. "You get a blowjob—I'll even negotiate swallowing—and I get a cowboy Ghost Rider figurine. Something-something, save a horse, ride a cowboy—speaking of, did you know that Russia's Catherine the Great is rumored to have died because she was fucking one of her prized stallions and the horse collapsed on her?" You carefully place the lashes into the lash container they came in and slide it back into your jacket pocket.

"Baseless rumors, I take it?"

"Well, duh; power-hungry men hate women. She died of a stroke. On one hand, girlboss, on the other hand, ew, a monarch. Glad she bit it." You level Ghost's gaze. "I will rejoice the day the British monarchy falls."

"I'll make sure to have streamers and party hats on hand." He stands then, and you extend the black towel thrown over your shoulder. His 'thank you' is clear but low and only for your ears. "You get everything done alright?"

"Yeah, as much as my non-existent security clearance let me do. Server maintenance was boring, nothing riveting which, y'know, is good. Then, I cleaned all the gunk out of Price's laptop and lectured him about clicking on random bullshit on the internet and he was like," you lower your voice to imitate Price, "'I was there when the internet was made' like okay, you living fossil. And then I didn't wanna bother you 'cause you were getting in the zone or whatever so I asked Johnny to come to the grocery store with me 'cause I wanted ice cream and I wanted to spend some time with Soap before I leave, so we went to the grocery store—"

"Breathe."

"And this mean old lady was at the store and I got the low-sugar kind of ice cream and then we came back." You take a deep breath and hold up a plastic baggie with ice cream and a few disposable spoons. "You want ice cream?"

"Did you fight an old lady again?" There is mirth to his tone, eyes crinkling at the corners. Smiling; he's smiling. The corners of your own mouth quirk up.

"Maybe. Rendezvous in John's office?"

Phrased like a question—but it isn't one. He's learned your patterns well enough, he knows when something is a request and when something is a question. You never give him time to answer a request, just state it and leave. Even now you pull away from him, muttering something to yourself as you make your exit.

Soap is the one who beats you both to Price's office. Price looks up from the papers on his desk when Soap enters, wearing the look of a man who's seen his own demise in the form of a human being. He says nothing, only visibly shudders before he collapses onto the worn leather couch in Price's office.

"I saw Jailbait verbally eviscerate an old lady."

Price laughs, actually laughs at that, laughs like he hasn't in a while. But he keeps his joy short, cutting himself off when he notices Soap's bewilderment. He's looking at Price with the utter confusion Price himself felt when he first heard you talking to a group of friends on a video call. "Still fighting with old ladies?"

"'Still'?"

"Jailbait used to babysit for this young single mother in the building. The old hag living next to her and the kid had a habit of running her mouth about everyone, but especially about those two back when she was still alive." Price winces. His chair creaks when he leans back slightly. "Jailbait never had anything nice to say about that hag. Supposedly all hell broke loose when they overheard a gossiping session. Whatever they told her seemed to get the point across. Never heard a peep again."

"She was a bitch and she deserved to know," you announce, standing in the doorway of Price's office. Ghost's tall stature looms behind you. You step in, discarding the lid of the ice cream tub in your hand into the trash. "I take a lot of pleasure in telling shitty old people to fuck off. 'Respect is earned' or whatever."

Ghost plants his weight next to Soap and you seat yourself in his lap. You hold the tub of ice cream out to him and pick up one of the spoons. The second one is passed to Soap and another to Price.

"You ate half of it," Ghost says, balaclava pulled up to his nose as he stares at the contents of the tub.

"I only ate the melting parts. Oh, and," you point your spoon towards Price, "I think she died; saw somebody moving furniture out of her apartment when I was leaving."

"I was away for five minutes." Ghost stabs his wooden spoon into the ice cream. It's soft. "Ever think she died because you were speaking in tongues?"

"Shut up, Colonizer, your Spanish has the thickest English accent I've ever heard." The tub of ice cream travels to Soap who digs his spoon in, and then to Price, still sitting at his desk. "By the way, I need Simon tonight and tomorrow morning, so there better not be some last-minute sudden mission bullshit." You spit over your left shoulder three times and Ghost frowns at the action.

"Did you spit on me?"

"No, but I can spit in your mouth if you ask nicely."

Ghost jabs his fingers into your sides and you yelp. A litany of curses escapes your lips, all of which Ghost ignores. He turns to Price, instead, pointedly ignoring the jab you try to deliver into his thigh.

"I'm seeing Jailbait off. Plane leaves at six."

"Our company that bad?" Soap jokes. He spots the slightest hint of a smile on Ghost's lips before it disappears.

"No, but the person who decided to put a base in the fuckin' desert is an ass and I need to see the sea." You level Soap with a look. "I would put you in my pocket and take you with me if I could. And Price?"

"Can't wait to hear where this is going to go."

"This better go on my CV 'cause I want to flex at my high school reunion in five years. Also, call me if they ever start building Evas 'cause one, I want to be there and two, I want to be immortalized by being one of the first people to work on it."

There's a faint 'what the fuck is an Eva' from Price. You throw your feet off Ghost's thigh and stand, stretching out the knots in your back. Ghost's knee bumps Soap's and he motions towards you with his eyes and when Soap looks at you, you're motioning for him to stand.

So, he stands, back as straight as a board. He can feel the weight of Ghost's gaze.

"MacTavish," you begin with a smile, "if I ever get to program an Eva, I'll fight tooth and nail so you could be my pilot." The curl of your lips is soft, all kind. It has his heart stuttering in his chest for a moment before he collects himself and returns your smile.

"It would be an honor."

You pause just as you're about to step forward, a small flicker of hesitation in your posture, then wrap your arms around Soap's torso. His gaze falls on Ghost, mind reeling back to the threats Ghost had made to the rookies and yet he only nods once. Soap slowly wraps his arms around your shoulders and relaxes into your hug.

"You're... pretty cool, I guess. Hangin' out was fun." It's a whisper against his chest.

"Yeah, you too." His own volume doesn't differ much from yours.

You move first, pulling away from him, and step back., turn on your heel to walk up to Price. His chair groans when he stands and pulls you into a tight hug. There are words exchanged, just like you did with Soap, too quiet to be heard by anyone but the two of you.

Soap spares a quick glance at Ghost whose gaze is pinned on you. There's a softness in his posture, slightly slouched, hunched shoulders. Like he's tired. It disappears the moment you pull away from your hug with Price and Soap spots the shaky smile you put on. There was no trace of Ghost, just Simon, Simon who is now buried again as Ghost's back straightens and he stands, tall and looming.

Ghost takes your hand in his when you leave.

He keeps you securely at his side as you make your way down the long gray hallways of the building. People walk past, minding their own business, some of them offering greetings, and Ghost's reply is always a nod of acknowledgment.

"Maybe once you get better at Spanish we can visit Alejandro and Rudy."

His announcement is sudden, voice a bit too loud and gruff to be Simon and it almost has you stumbling over your feet. You look up at him, and he's already looking down at you, an eyebrow raised.

The gaze you level him with is one he knows all too well; he can already feel the sigh of adoration-flavored exasperation in his chest.

"Wow, you have friends?"

"Pain in my ass."

And yet he still lets you sleep on top of him like a poor man's weighted blanket, head resting over his heart.

He doesn't want to wake you up.

You'd rolled off him in the middle of the night and he'd grabbed your arm to keep you from rolling off the cot entirely. He's spent the time since awake, staring at the calm rise and fall of your chest while you sleep like a corpse. (He finds himself somewhat jealous of your ability to sleep so soundly.)

Simon Riley lives in the shadows, the saturated grays of the world. He can't ever show you off to everyone who'd be willing to look, can't talk about you to anyone who would listen lest you be taken and used against him. His fingers are stained with blood and no matter how hard he scrubs he cannot get it out from underneath his fingernails.

And fuck, you deserve so much better than him; you deserve someone who'd immortalize you in their art, in poems and letters and paintings, marble statues carved in your image in museums where people from all over the world can marvel at your beauty—fall in love the same way he has.

His chest aches and his throat is tight and he tells himself the pain is in his ribs. He tells himself the pain is there because he was shot at.

He reaches out, fingers skimming along your thigh, his touch featherlight. You swat at his hand and bury your face deeper into your pillow.

"You've got a plane."

"No."

Simon grabs the back of your exposed thigh with his cold hand and you squeal. Your hand makes harsh contact with the bedframe and you swear loudly in a language Simon doesn't understand. Your voice is much lower in this language, and he's always liked this tone so much more than the one you use when you're speaking English. This one has a roughness your English lacks.

Briefly, he ponders over taking classes to learn it.

You grumble as you gather your things and follow him out to the car.

The ride to the airport is silent.

You're dozing off in the passenger seat, elbow propped against the window and cheek resting on the back of your hand. The town whizzes by outside, with very little sign of life at this hour. All the traffic lights are blinking yellow.

The car rolls to a stop at an almost empty intersection with a stop sign. A car is approaching from the right.

"I uh..." you pause, closed fist pressing against your eye as if to chase the sleep away. Your voice is still gravelly. "I got to talking about my past relationships in therapy last week. Realized I've met most of my exes at Halloween or masquerade parties—and I've always had this weird... disappointment, I guess, like, the moment they take the mask off. Even if they're objectively good-looking." You look at him. "But I don't get that with you."

Simon doesn't say anything; doesn't want to. Doesn't want to shatter the peaceful atmosphere of your confession, doesn't want to ruin it with his callous words and awkward sentence structure because every time he looks at you, his tongue feels like lead in his mouth and he forgets how to string his words together.

He just watches the car on the right cross the intersection and presses his foot down on the gas pedal.

"I always want to see you again." And you reach your hand across the console and hold it out for him. Simon takes it. His thumb traces circles against the back of your hand. Your grip tightens, three squeezes. He reciprocates the action.

The traffic lights stop blinking yellow. The roads become more lively.

Simon parks the car in the airport parking lot. He kills the engine, and it's silent again, neither of you making any effort to move, to get out and step into the brightly-lit airport.

Gently, you untangle your fingers from his, and trail up his arm, the column of his neck, the curve of his jaw. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. An audible exhale leaves him and you smile, the taste of it bittersweet on your tongue.

Simon leans in, his nose bumping against yours, his breath hot on your lower lip when he exhales.

His lips are chapped and his mouth is desperate and he steals the breath from your lungs. Teeth sink into your bottom lip and you whimper, the sound immediately swallowed by Simon's greed. An apology to your lip is the swipe of his warm tongue, his piercing knocking against your own tongue. He makes you dizzy, head swimming with nothing but him and his touch.

He breaks the kiss first; you have a flight to catch. Time. Time—it's always like he doesn't have enough time with you, one of you is always rushing somewhere, always away.

"Fuckin' hell, Riley," you say between deep breaths, waiting for the world to re-align on its axis. "I'm getting you a lip scrub the moment I get home."

His laugh is a low rumble and then he's kissing you again.

Too little time with you.

He takes your hand in his as you walk through the airport.

He stands a few feet away as you're checking in at the front desk, your manicured fingers tapping against the steel counter. You pull your black surgical mask down at the lady's request and flash her a quick smile, then another towards Simon who can't help but mirror you from behind his own mask.

("Airports are hotbeds for disease," you'd said, hanging him one of the surgical masks in your bag, "not lettin' someone's grandpa cough in my mouth.")

Just a little while later you're standing next to Simon, watching your neon yellow suitcase take off on the conveyer belt.

You find a quiet corner away from the prying eyes of the world. Simon wraps his arms around you, pulls you against his chest, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers clutching onto the back of his jacket as if you're trying to claw your way into his skin and hide in the space between his ribs.

His grip is tight, fingers digging into your flesh so hard it'll bruise. Sometimes he doesn't know his own strength, the little crescent-shaped scars on your hips a witness to his prowess. He'd looked heartbroken, hands shaking and jaw clenched tight, begging, pleading you to tell him when he's too rough.

But it's nice—his hands feel like safety.

When you part, he pulls your masks down to place another kiss onto your lips and the world tilts again. You clutch onto the lapels of his jacket to keep yourself upright.

And then you part again, for the final time, and Simon watches you disappear from sight as you turn the corner towards the departure lounge.

He lingers at the airport for nearly an hour until his phone rings.

"You make it okay?"

"God, people love to try my patience. Some lady approached me and asked if I could switch with her so she could sit with the rest of her family. So I ask which one her seat is and she goes 'oh it's in economy', I just laughed in her face. Now her husband is glaring at me. Like, fuck, buy your own business class tickets, who the fuck is gonna swap business for the ass end of economy?"

He listens, lips curling slightly when he tries to imagine you telling a middle-aged woman to fuck off.

You exhale, adding another swear under your breath, venom-laced and sharp as a knife. He can vaguely hear people talking in the background. The call stretches on, neither one of you wanting to hang up so soon.

"Simon, what do you call the wife of a hippie?"

"Copy. Behave."

"Me? Always." He can hear the grin in your voice and it eases the ache in his chest, his heart thrumming like it's a captive hummingbird desperately searching for an escape. When your voice rings out again, it's small, with a hint of an uncertain tremble. "Don't... d-word."

"Not even death itself could keep me from you."

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod x you #cod x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Fifteen.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,575

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

“I can’t, Sean. I fucking... oh, I can’t!"  

It was not another emotional wobble that prompted the words that fell from her lips that morning, although make no mistake, they were heavily stirred. Stirred by the fact that for the last half an hour, he’d made her come so many times, she wagered that once he wasn’t between them, she likely wouldn’t be able to close her legs.  

“Yes, you can, because you’re too cock hungry not to, aren’t you?”  

She nodded, her slick walls flexing around him as he drove into her hard, his fingers tightening their grip upon her neck. Her vision began to swim, her head foggy and light, just as he’d designed by slowly cutting off her air as he felt her ascending beneath him once more. “That’s it, come for me again. Let me hear you wail.”  

His thumb rubbed pure, tingling sin upon her clit, her body stiffening before it blazed over her, every colour illuminated behind her closed eyelids as he finally let her have air. The rush of being able to breath hit the force of her orgasm like a freight train hurtling into a blockade, her scream shrill, hips bucking against him as it fizzed right into her marrow.  

And yet still, he hadn’t come. Then again, she remembered well how apt he was in keeping himself in control, especially when it came to dominating her. She was a sweaty, sore mess beneath him, but god, how she didn’t want to cease. Not that he’d let her, she wagered.  

She was turned onto her front, her arms taken and pinned at the base of her spine, his big hand easily grasping both wrists. He was rough with her, but it was tempered, his mouth laying kisses all the way up her back, skin shivering at the contact, kissing the back of her neck. His knees forced her thighs apart, guiding his cock to her puffy, well-fucked opening and slipping back in with a soft grunt, teeth closing in a bite upon her shoulder. 

Moving her hands from between them, his body pressed flat against hers entirely as he pinned them either side of her head, his groans full of sin and grit as he dragged her walls slowly, her soft purrs of pleasure heavenly to his ears. He could feel his need to slip over the edge and into constellations of ecstasy beginning to simmer, pulling from her and heaving her body up so she took her weight onto her knees, lying beneath her to pull her down, her wettened slit meeting the glide of his tongue.  

“You’re literally dripping into my mouth,” he groaned, hand spanking her bum so hard, her eyes watered. “Fuck, if this isn’t the most perfect, wet little cunt I’ve ever had in my mouth.” Another spank had her seeing stars, her skin stinging, her clit throbbing within the pillowy heat of his lips, sucking her with pure hunger.  

Pushing two fingers into the plush of her, he circled, finding the spot that always elicited fireworks within, driving them hard and fast until she was howling from it, hands gripped tightly onto the fitted sheet beneath them, sent once more to the edges of heaven by him. He’d been in control of it all for the last hour since they’d awoken just as horny as they were after finally sleeping at somewhere close to 2am, but Rin would see to a change in that. 

“Where are you going, you bad girl?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and making himself look devastatingly sexy as he did it. “There’ll be no Catherine in control here.” 

Ignoring him, she straddled his hips, guiding him to her soaked opening and sinking down. “Let me ride you for thirty seconds. That’s all you’ll need to change your mind.” 

He chuckled, hands stroking down her arms. “I am well acquainted with how fucking good you are atop me, but as I said. You aren’t in control.”  

Going to move, he found himself returned to the bed with a thud, Rin locking her hand around his throat and pushing him down. “Thirty seconds, Sean, and you will be singing an entirely different tune.”  

A wise woman had once told her, if you want to bring a man to his knees with pleasure, once atop him, move as if you are spelling out your name with your hips. Her name had nine letters, and she spelled out each in slow roll, nails dragging his chest, smirking as she watched the quest for power melt within him.  

He was mindless by number five.  

Every nerve, every fibre of his being thrummed with illumination, his mouth opening to say something, a lust-soaked groan fluttering over his parted lips, eyes virtually rolling back in his head. He was unable to even form thought, let alone speak words. 

“Not so keen to be boss now, are we?” 

He panted hard, mouth dropping open again, his groan almost helpless. “No.” His whisper had her grinning wider, continuing diligently, watching him as he unravelled and came undone beneath her much more quickly than she’d anticipated, his thick cock in spasm as he painted her insides hot white.  

“You... have... fucking... ruined me.”  

As she thought. “Fair payback, I feel, for how much you’ve sexually decimated me this morning.”  

His eyes closed, Sean nodding as he pulled her down into his arms, his cock still gently twitching within her. “Mm.” 

“Nicely cunt drunk, hmm?” 

He paused. “Mm.” 

In his ruined state, he lay entwined with her, both dozing, him still inside her until her sudden movement a half hour later left him abandoned.  

“Shit, I didn’t realise the fucking time!” she announced, racing into the bathroom and turning the shower on.  

“Check out isn’t for another hour and a half though,” he spoke, sitting up a little as he came around from his blissed-out sex nap.  

“No, but I have to be back to pick up Tiger. I promised her that I’d take her out for the morning, for breakfast and then shopping before dropping her to her friend’s house for a birthday sleepover. I haven’t even sorted the bloody gift she’s supposed to be taking with her yet either!”  

“Oh, right.”  

Pausing before she got into the shower, toothbrush jammed in her mouth, she considered a couple of options, poking her head around the bathroom door. “Do you want to come with us? I’m free then for the rest of the weekend after 3pm, so we could... spend time together?” 

She was trying, and he saw it. Trying for both Tiger’s benefit and hers, making the effort to build upon what they tentatively had. Not that it was tentative from his perspective, but he knew it was from hers. “Of course, I’d love that. I’ll meet you a little later, though. I need to go and fetch Butch from the dog sitter.” 

He got into the shower with her to save time, and they made a plan to meet at the place she was taking Tiger for breakfast in just over an hour, heading to their respective cars before being whisked in separate directions across London. At 9:45am, Sean walked into the outdoor section of the restaurant, finding Rin, Tiger and a coffee waiting for him. 

Seeing him, Tiger got up, running to him and hugging his legs, Sean smiling as he lifted her up. It was the first time she’d greeted him so enthusiastically, and as soon as she opened her mouth, he realised why.  

“Hi, daddy.” 

The size of the lump that smacked into the side of his throat... “Hello, tiny girl. So, your mum told you then, did she?” 

She nodded, getting a sudden little attack of shyness, hiding her face behind her hair.  

“And what do you think about that?” he continued, placing her down again next to her mother and moving to sit opposite them. The child took her time before sitting up straight, fiddling with the saltshaker for a moment.  

Still, she stalled, Rin nudging her. “Your dad asked you a question, little mouse.” 

Finally, she looked across the table, seeing him smiling at her. “I thought you might be. You look like me.” 

He laughed softly. “Well, that’s not exactly the right way around. You look like me.” 

She squinted, a tilted smile lifting the corner of her mouth. “I like the way I said it better.” 

If there’d been any doubt in his mind that he truly was her father, it would have been nixed right there. There she sat, his daughter. His daughter, and she now knew who he was to her. Looking over at Rin, he mouthed his thanks, winking as he reached to gently squeeze her fingers. She allowed it, although her hand remained limp in his.  

After they’d eaten, Sean called for his car to take them to Mayfair, Butch remaining in the back playing with his tennis ball while the three of them toured the shops, Tiger being very fussy over what gift to choose for Dani, the friend whose birthday sleepover she was attending.  

“Mummy, can we get her one of these?”  

Rin crinkled her nose, shaking her head. “A miniature G Wagon is a little excessive, mouse,” she replied, attempting to steer her away from the display there in Hamley’s. While true that the social circle she moved in dictated that the gift be quite extravagant, she drew the line at an electric miniature car that Dani would likely grow out of in a few months anyway, knowing well the speed little ones shot up at.  

Three hundred was a good price point, though, Rin instead spending that much on the eventually decided upon gift of a giant giraffe collector's item stuffed toy, one that Sean carried over his shoulder while Rin juggled the rest of the bags containing Tiger’s things, holding her hand as they travelled the escalator back down.  

“We could have brought her a real one home from Africa!” the child announced, Sean snorting with laughter. 

“Imagine that? “Ahh, yes. We have a gift outside for her. It’s currently pruning your trees.”  

His dry delivery had Rin chuckling, even more so when she watched him and his driver attempting to get the huge toy into the car, poor Michael driving with a plush hoof wedged against his shoulder over to Kensington. Once Tiger had been dropped at the party with the toy that took up entirely too much room, she kissed her parent's goodbye, leaving them free to enjoy their Saturday afternoon together.  

“Why do you do this to me, make me imbibe vodka-based drinks?” he complained, sitting at the window in a dog friendly bar, Butch at his feet fast asleep. 

“Because two for one matching cocktails are not to be sniffed at, and I will not hear of anyone putting gin in a bloody martini. It’s sacrilege.”  

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, but we’re getting something whiskey based next. I’m more comfortable with that, and these are so strong I can feel it stripping my stomach lining.”  

She looked devilish. “Or you could swap to whiskey based, and I will double up on the martinis.” 

“If you get smashed, I shan’t carry you.” Typical Sean.  

She leaned forward in her seat, eyeing him carefully. “Who said anything about getting smashed?” How she’d walked right into it. All he had to do was raise his eyebrows and grin. “You’re fucking filthy, Wallace.” 

He leaned close, stealing the olive from her drink. “Which is exactly how you prefer me.”  

There was no denying that.  

He reached for her, thumb skimming her cheek, smiling. She enjoyed it for the briefest of moments before pulling back a little with a small grimace of discomfort. “That’s twice now, you’ve acted coolly if I’ve shown you an affectionate gesture.” 

Of course, Sean was exactly the type not to let such observances slide. She should have known better. “I’m sorry, I am. I’m trying, but it’s a lot, for my head to make me completely drop my guard with you. My brain still sees you as the man who should throw me into a state of panic over any possible nefarious intentions that might be coming my way.” 

“You have the upper hand here, Rin. Not me,” he reminded her, elaborating. “I’m back in a position of wealth, twice as well off as I used to be, and independently too, because of you. I know if I fucked with you, that would vanish, as would I. That isn’t what prevents it, though, those nefarious intentions you speak of.” 

“What does?” she asked, sipping her drink, Sean tiring of his and pouring the rest into her glass as he spoke again. 

“The fact that I love you. You and Tiger. Apart from Billy and Jacqueline, you’re all the family I have left. That means something to me, and while you might not believe that, I will show you. I’ll prove I’m worth trusting.” 

An earnest Sean Wallace. An in love Sean Wallace; they were the farthest from what she knew of him, truly they were. The night before, the hurt he’d caused had tumbled from her mouth, she’d been vulnerable with him, but something seemed to have closed in her again, Sean studying her, her body turned away, arms folded.  

He couldn’t blame her for being guarded, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. When they walked on to the next bar, though, she surprised him greatly by slipping her hand into his. It was a further effort, and he didn’t discount it for a second. He had his work cut out for him, and he knew that the process couldn’t be rushed. He couldn’t be his usual bull-headed self. He couldn’t resort to brutality to get what he wanted. This wasn’t a gangland issue he could use his weight to push up against, it was much more delicate, required an approach borne of earnest sincerity.  

It would be the first time he’d ever have to sway someone by such means. He wouldn’t give up until she had been swayed, though.  

Arriving at the next bar, they took seats outside, Butch sadly not allowed within, Sean going to fetch the drinks while Rin sat and made a fuss of the beautiful dog with the comedy teeth, stroking the soft velvet of his ears. She supposed that there were parts of Sean that had changed just looking down into the big, brown eyes of the bulldog cross he doted on. He was capable of caring for something beyond himself.  

Rin did trust that he’d be a good presence in Tiger’s life, but she couldn’t fully trust him with her own heart just yet. God, how she wanted to, though.  

“As well as spending time with you and Tiger together, I would very much like to have her come and stay with me, so I may begin building a relationship with her. Also, I want you to begin noting down all of her expenses, so I can sort out a standing order in way of child maintenance payments with my bank. I know you’re as rich as a sheik, but that doesn’t matter to me. She’s my child, too.”  

Hearing such a pledge a little later in the evening only made Rin hope for it all the more, agreeing to his proposal happily. After collecting Tiger from her sleepover the following day, she was very excited about the prospect of spending time with her dad, Sean beginning such the following weekend, Tiger on her half term break and arriving with him on the Friday morning. While being with his little girl was something he greatly enjoyed, the busy surroundings of a DIY centre were not.  

Although his spare bedrooms were furnished, they weren’t very on brand for a six-year-old child, Sean allowing her to decide over a new colour scheme and various bits and pieces to go within. He planned to order those online with her later that day, for his patience was tested greatly within the confides of Homebase.  

“I don’t really like pink, but I do like green. And orange. And purple. And blue.” She looked at the paint chart cards within her grasp, sitting in the large trolley. “Daddy, can we do my room in rainbow colours, all stripey?”  

That was it. He was hiring a decorator as opposed to doing it himself. “Of course, tiny.”  

“Yay!” Her joy made him beam, and after a trip to the paint mixing stand, all of the colours were sorted and stashed in the trolley. Once done, they headed back home, Tiger sitting upon his lap while browsing the internet, deciding next on various items to fill her room with. She was thrilled to be having a double bed all to herself (“I can sleep like a starfish!”) so a brightly coloured duvet set was purchased, everything on brand with her desired rainbow theme.  

Sean didn’t give a damn how much money she spent, but he did feel slightly anxious over the fact that the room might only be viewable through a pair of sufficient sunglasses by the time she was done. One thing he did note, though, as she scrolled through various furniture and toy online shops, was that her manners were impeccable. 

“Can I have this one please, daddy?”  

“Of course, Tiger.” 

“Oh, I love the rug! Can I, please?” 

“Yes, you can.” 

She then paused, turning to him. “Am I spending too much money, daddy?” 

He kissed her cheek, his heart bursting when she cuddled against him, quick to catch the laptop when it slipped. “Not at all, little one.” There were a couple of items he drew the line at and told her no, but it was more to do with not wanting her to be spoilt rather than any financial constraints. There would be no bratty children within his household, plus her mother had also specifically stated not to allow Tiger to try and wrap him around her little finger.  

It did not mean that she didn’t attempt to, though.  

“No, waffles and ice cream are not a substantial dinner. Your mother tells me you quite like Chinese food, though?” 

Immediately, the little button nose was crinkled. “Don’t want that.” 

“Thai food?”  

“Don’t like it.” 

“Have you ever tried it?” 

“No, daddy, but it smells funny. Mummy had a yellow curry once and she smelled like the dustbin for ages!” 

He couldn’t keep his laughter in at that particular observation. “Alright, pizza?” Woe betide she want anything vaguely healthy. Then again, six-year-old children rarely ever did. 

“Okay!” 

“What toppings do you want?” 

A long pause followed. “Ham. No... chicken and ham. No! Chicken and mushroom!” Her face remained undecided.  

“How about ham, chicken and mushroom?” 

“Yes please!”  

Sean couldn’t stand mushrooms, so chose differently for himself, putting in the order, also selecting a tub of Ben & Jerry’s from the list. He didn’t even let her choose which one; cookie dough would suffice. He was starving; being held at the whim of an indecisive child was not furtherly on his agenda.  

It didn’t pass him by, though, how one truly did have to be nothing short of a skilled negotiator, dealing with a child. He found that out even more that night, after she’d washed and put her pyjamas on, when they began the age-old battle known to parents the world over.  

Bedtime.  

“Can I just watch one more episode?” 

He shook his head, standing at the lounge door, Tiger wedged into the corner of the sofa with the TV remove in her hand. He’d introduced her to The Simpsons, a cartoon from his youth she’d decided was her new favourite thing.  

“No, Tiger. It’s nine thirty, you’ve already stayed up an hour past your bedtime. Come on.” 

“I don’t want to!”  

Okay, now was the time to find the balance between the fact that although he was her dad, he was also a new presence in her life, Tiger’s respect for his rules perhaps not quite as deeply ingrained as it was towards Rin’s. But how? Bribing could lead down a sticky slope in her expectations for future bedtimes, relenting let her know her protesting garnered a win, but he still did not want to resort to being overly firm.  

He was not Finn, and he never would be.  

“Well, that’s a shame,” he began, the presence of Butch brushing past his leg on entrance into the lounge giving him an idea, “because Butch told me he really wanted to curl up with you and go to sleep tonight, and look. Here he is, ready to fetch you for bedtime.”  

She was off the sofa in three seconds flat. He knew it would be the first of many battles as he forayed into fatherhood, and not every one of them a win, but it was a good start. Butch didn’t let him down either, jumping onto the bed and circling a few times before he settled with a soft grunt, Sean tucking Tiger in and kissing her head.  

“Daddy?” she called, just as he was about to leave the room. “Love you.” 

His heart all but burst. He had not expected such a declaration so swiftly. “I love you too, tiny.”  

Now all he had to do was gain the same from her mother, and life would be as close to perfect as it ever had been.  

#sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #gangs of london fanfiction #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace fic #joe cole #london will burn #sean and rin

[tea-earl-grey]

okok. i've collected some of my Star Beast thoughts. i'll put in a cut because spoilers

i had so much fun but it's still a bit of a mixed bag for me.

i loved seeing David Tennant and Catherine Tate back. say what you will about nostalgia baiting but like. they're great together and will always lift up an episode. i loved how unabashedly earnest it was. i love having Shirley keep a rocket launcher in her wheelchair. i love how much Rose being transgender is brought up and informs her character (especially in the era where a canon trans character usually means there's like a throwaway line and then is never brought up again). i loooooooved Beep the Meep and the combination of practical and digital effects (the episode in general just looked very nice). i think all of the characters were really thought through, especially Donna and Sylvia (and their relationship). Donna didn't have a supportive mum growing up so she is really trying to be there for Rose even when she doesn't know how. Sylvia took the Doctor's advice to heart at the end of Journey's End and is actively trying to show Donna that she cares and loves her (and loves Rose for that matter). i did think the plot itself was surprisingly well managed? which i was very much expecting a Power of the Doctor style "who fucking knows what the plot is, we're having fun" thing but it is structured and linear and well paced.

in terms of the things i wasn't super pleased about... i love the trans and disabled rep and it was clearly done with good intentions and i didn't think there were any parts that were offensive or muddled but it was very clear that a cis man wrote it. saving the world through the power of transgenderism is fucking great and baller in the current climate but it was just a bit too pristine with the continued assumption that the Fourteenth Doctor is a man because he's played by a cis man and Thirteen was a woman because she was played by a cis woman rather than having a bit more fun with messing around with gender.

i also think Donna getting her memories back was just a bit underplayed... i love the tragedy in Journey's End and i am fine giving Donna back her memories but i wish we saw a bit more anger with how the Doctor violated her own wishes to save her life and i wish there would have been some sort of trade-off to Donna remembering to still maintain the tragedy (and there might be! this is only episode one!)

finally... i went into this episode kind of expecting it would be a lot of RTD era stuff and that it wouldn't be a huge story. they've practically said in interviews that part 1 will be an ordinary story and then parts 2 and 3 will get fun and funky but i am still a bit disappointed that this is part of the anniversary special. which is an excuse to get cringe and nostalgic and fan-servicey and they didn't really do that. and there wasn't even much of a plot twist since if you know the comics, you know Beep the Meep is evil and Rose being part of the metacrisis was a pretty popular fan theory.

anyways. that's about all of my thoughts. i had a lot of fun, i think it's a solid episode, and the things i didn't like can probably be fixed in the next two episodes. all in all 8/10

#dw spoilers #the star beast #doctor who #new who #i'm probably forgetting more things #but god knows this is all my brain holds now #i was very meh about the sonic. STOP OVERPOWERING THE SONIC

[violetflowerswrites]

My Love

Catherine the Great x Leo Voronsky

Summary: Catherine vents out her frustrations about the Russian nobility on her lover, Leo. Pure smut, very little plot, no spoilers. Season 1 of The Great.

Disclaimer: gratuitous swearing, many many F bombs, very crude sexual humor, cannon jokes about beastiality, excessive drinking, consensual oral sex (male and female receiving), p in v sex

Word Count: 1.8k

Author’s Note: I’m a huge fan of historical fiction—the satire and sarcasm in this show is totally my vibe. But I also love how intimate it can get! I love Leo and Catherine and literally cried after I finished season one. Enjoy!

…

“Fucking idiots!”

Catherine the (not yet) Great storms into Leo’s apartment. The light blue fabric of her heavy skirts almost snags the corner of an armchair as she angrily sweeps by.

Leo leans back on a lounge chaise, sketchbook in hand. He wordlessly lifts up a clear glass of vodka that Catherine immediately snatches out of his hand in her tirade about the room.

She gulps the drink in one go and blindly throws the glass in the direction of the tree in the corner of Leo’s quarters. It shatters with a delicate crackle of broken glass.

“I am not a pretty, empty headed jewel for them to jape at as they please. I am a force to be reckoned with!” Catherine shouts, her cheeks and eyes alike inflamed with indignation.

“Shall I propose a toast?” Leo has already produced another glass to replace the one she destroyed.

“You may.” Catherine flops down with an audible exhale of air, still seething in frustration.

“Fuck the court.”

“HAH! Fuck the court indeed.”

They raise their glasses and clink them before unceremoniously shooting back the hard liquor.

“Huzzah!” Catherine shouts sarcastically.

Leo continues sketching a cartoon of Catherine with a large speech bubble that says “Fuck the court!” A quiet giggle escapes his soft lips.

“And what, pray tell, amuses my dear lover?” She settles into the soft cushions of her armchair, the drink and the exertion from her rant relaxing her long, graceful limbs.

“I was just thinking about how you used to be terrified of swearing, thinking us Russians a crude and improper people—which we are, mind you—and yet…”

“And yet here I am, a true Russian, swearing in every sentence I utter.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”

Leo then shows Catherine his cartoon and they dissolve in a fit of giggles.

“You get it now, my love. The world we live in is absolutely fucked so why not laugh a little. I don’t like to see you so upset. Although I have to admit, it does make me wonder…”

“About what?”

“I wonder if you would like to take your frustration out on me? Sexually?” Leo grins at Catherine, eyes twinkling through his mess of dark curls.

“You’re a naughty boy!” She gasps, blushing. The rosyness of her cheeks contrasts prettily with her ivory skin.

“Ooo do tell me more,” Leo winks and offers a hand.

Catherine takes it, and kisses his olive-skinned knuckles.

“My Lord.”

“Empress.”

“Are you inviting me to your bed?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I am inviting you to fuck me, Empress.”

Catherine barks out an unladylike laugh and covers her mouth in surprise at the ugly sound. It makes Leo look at her in amusement all the more.

She clears her throat to recover. “I accept your invitation.” Catherine bends down in a formal curtsy. “Undress me.”

Leo proceeds to undo the laces of the empress’ dress, gently pulling apart the ribbons at the back. He presses his soft lips to the back of her neck, sending a slight shiver down her spine, before turning Catherine around to unbutton the frock. Her breath quickens as Leo’s mere proximity to her milky white bosom makes her skin flush an aroused pink, a phenomenon that does not go unnoticed.

“Empress?” Leo whispers against her chest, his eyes glued to his lover’s beautiful body.

“Yes?” She responds breathlessly.

“Do I have permission to touch you?”

“If you do not touch me this instant, I may have to go to the stables and fuck a horse like all those fools think I did.”

“Then I shall be quite jealous of the noble steed you deem worthy of your pussy.”

The two of them share a wry smile at the ridiculousness of their conversation. But, the moment Leo’s lips press hot, tender kisses to her chest, Catherine’s expression morphs into a pleased moan of desire.

His affections continue across her supple skin as he pulls apart her clothing, revealing her gorgeous feminine form to him once again. Somehow, Catherine’s hands have already removed his tunic and they are now exploring every inch of his handsome chest. She runs her fingers down his curly chest hair, leaving behind the slightest of tingles everywhere she moves. Leo’s breath quickly comes in pants as her touch alights his skin, and his heart, and of course, his cock, on fire.

“Shall we try something?” Leo suggests, an amused smirk barely hiding just how aroused he is.

“What’s that?”

“Come here,” Leo gestures for Catherine to get on top of him as he lies on the bed, and she does, quickly pressing kisses to his soft lips. “Now, turn around.”

“What?”

“Let me taste your pussy, and you can lick my cock. A win-win, don’t you think?”

“Leo, that's quite—oh!” Her sentence is cut off with a gasp, followed by a pleasured groan. Her lover's mouth is now planted firmly inside her pink folds. His chin glistens with her slickness in seconds.

“You were saying, my love?” Leo lifts his head out of her cunt with a wet noise. Catherine slowly loosens her hold on the sheets that she didn’t even know she was gripping with white knuckles.

“Never mind. You may continue.” She acquiesces quickly, her gaze now locked onto the bouncing cock before her. She has only sucked him a few times, thinking it not much to look at, much less taste, but she felt it is only fair that he gets what he’s giving.

So, Catherine widens her jaw and attempts to swallow the thick log down her gullet.

And proceeds to gag immediately.

Leo pauses at once and calls out, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, do not worry!” Her voice betrays some embarrassment.

Leo realizes that she’s trying so hard to please him and it makes his heart melt in love for her all the more. “You don’t have to—“

“Stop. I want to. Just let me try at my own pace.”

Catherine ducks her head down, lips pressing kisses to the pink tip of his cock, the engorged shaft and its criss cross of veins, the heavy ballsack dangling underneath.

Men are truly an odd creature, what with this uncomfortable thing dangling about in their trousers.

Another moan rips her out of her musings, her mind forgetting for a moment that Leo is eating out her pussy as if it is a delicious piece of fruit, perhaps his favorite peaches.

So she relaxes herself and tries again, slowly accepting his length into her mouth, her tongue lapping up the underside of the shaft. A strong, salty smell fills her nostrils as she inhales, trying to suppress her gag reflex.

She hears a guttural groan escape her lover's lips, somewhat muffled by her soft core, but clearly a sound of pleasure nonetheless. Encouraged, she proceeds to suck his cock in more, her cheeks hollowing out as she adds pressure on his member.

Leo gasps and groans underneath her, his hips thrusting upward automatically, chasing his high. In response, Catherine spreads her thighs and settles on top of Leo’s face even more, letting his hot breath tickle her most intimate regions, and his tongue appreciatively pries apart the petals of her pussy.

And then, he finds her pearl.

In seconds, Catherine releases his cock and comes with a scream, her eyes screwed shut and her hands clawing at the bedspread. Her breath comes in messy gasps as her body shudders with the aftershocks of orgasm.

Leo calmly sits up as she crumples into a spent heap on the mattress.

“Well, that was nice.” He quips nonchalantly.

“More.” The word barely audible through her heady pants.

“What was that?” Leo smiles, his own breath unsteady, betraying how aroused he is behind his causal grin.

“I need more.” Catherine locks eyes with him fiercely, like a lioness staring down her prey.

“Of course.”

Catherine climbs atop his lap, his still erect cock pressed against her soft belly, and she devours her lover’s mouth ferociously. They exchange tongue and saliva and breath in a duel of passion, their lips interlocking as if they could never kiss each other again.

Catherine breaks for air first, her tender breasts rising and falling rapidly. Leo seizes the opportunity to suck her sensitive pink nipples into his hot mouth, eliciting a shout from her lips.

“Oh god—!”

“God should probably turn his eyes away right now, don’t you think?”

“Leo—mmph!— you never stop joking, do you?”

“I’m just here for the ride,” he laughs and Catherine joins him, her voice ringing across the room.

“Shall I, then?”

“With what?”

“Ride you.”

“If it pleases you, Empress.”

Catherine squeals with unbridled enthusiasm and quickly aims Leo’s cock straight for her pussy. She smiles into another kiss at the same time she sinks onto his length.

“Mmph!”

Leo’s moan is swallowed by her lips, just as her cunt swallows his cock. Her sunlight blonde hair cascades in waves around their faces, as if a private curtain hides the two of them from the harsh reality of the world around them. Her warm, wet inner walls squeeze him as he grips the flesh of her hips in ecstasy. In response, Catherine locks her hands behind his neck and into his dark curls and starts to bounce her plush ass onto his lap.

“Oh! Oh! Yes!” Her voice comes out in high-pitched yelps that can surely be heard by the guards standing outside their doors.

To his credit, Leo is no quiet lover either. His relentless groans reveal just how much he enjoys being ridden by the Empress of Russia.

She pauses to catch her breath, rolling so that her clit rubs against his hard body. Leo marvels at her shameless chase of carnal joy, and quickly sucks his fingers wet and finds her sensitive nub between their connected bodies.

“Leo!” Catherine grits out his name and catches his hand, her fingernails digging into his wrist. His mind goes wild with equal parts pleasure and pain and he doubles down, rubbing even faster.

He thrusts upward to match her eager rhythm, which only serves to make Catherine scream louder.

“Fuck!”

“Yes, my love! Give it to me!” Leo encourages, his girth stretching her deliciously. She can feel him bottoming out, his length completely disappearing inside her with every bounce.

“Ohhhhh!” A particularly violent push elicits a long moan from the empress, her orgasm apparent to her lover underneath her. He can feel the throbbing of her cunt squeezing his cock, and he cums inside with an equally long exclamation.

Completely spent, they both roll onto their sides, facing one another with silken sheets covering their sweat-soaked, heat-driven bodies.

She sighs contentedly, her face adoringly searching his.

“I do love it when you call me that.”

“Hmm?”

“Empress.”

“That is who you are, is it not?”

“Indeed. But perhaps I like it more when you call me something else.”

“And what’s that?”

“ ‘my love’ “

Leo melts instantly and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“My love. I’ll follow you forever.”

“Even if I make a fool of myself?”

“Oh, especially then.” Leo smiles with good humor, and quickly adds on, “my love.”

“I love you.” Catherine whispers, her gaze soft and pure with emotion.

Leo simply kisses her forehead and holds her tightly to the warmth of his beating heart. A heart that beats only for his love.

…

#the great #Catherine the Great #Catherine x Leo #the great fic #the great smut #the great imagines #Catherine the Great fic #Catherine the Great smut #Leo #Leo Voronsky

[mousegard]

for the ask thing

rhea

favorite thing about them

oh god. where do i start. she's so fucked up and she's so hot. she's an absolute mess on every level. my daughter who has every disease. my poor little meow meow. she did everything wrong and i love her for it. she's so bad and it makes me want to clap my hands and rub them together with glee. all of the rest of my answers to this meme are my favorite thing about her

least favorite thing about them

the fandom

aside from that, her lack of relevance in azure moon sucks. i'm glad that at least she got more focus in azure gleam, as much of a cursed route as that was, if only because it just makes it so obvious how incredibly and delightfully toxic rhea has been for fodlan and its people

favorite line

every line rhea gets is just fucking. so good. cherami leigh is perfectly cast in the english dub. her lines are dripping with menace when they need to be, unsettling when they need to be, and vulnerable exactly when they need to be. every fucking line she gets in cf is just so, so good and the voice acting brings it all to life perfectly.

rhea's lines when byleth chooses to protect edelgard in the holy tomb are my favorite. especially the sheer contempt you can hear in "you are just another failure"

chills every time. the truth comes out there. exactly how she sees byleth and exactly how she sees humanity as a whole

brOTP

one of the fascinating things about rhea is that nobody is on an equal footing to her. not seteth or flayn, her fellow nabateans, whom she never answers to for any of the decisions she makes, despite seteth being nominally her advisor. not catherine or jeralt, who were brought under her wing in exchange for their servitude as knights, one of whom was successfully groomed by her and one of whom wasn't and got out while he still had a chance.

honestly cyril is the only human character in the game that rhea doesn't appear to have a purely transactional relationship with, and... he's a child. a child who cleans her room and does chores for her. okay that's pretty transactional now that i think about it.

so, given that rhea doesn't have anyone she can be bros with, my brotp for rhea is...

rhea/catherine. you get the more wholesome ending of a deposed rhea retreating from the world and catherine looking after her, which is quite bittersweet. but you can also be delightfully fucked up with it. imagine if cf ended with the black eagle strike force being routed in fhirdiad and fresh off a decisive church victory over the empire catherine had to live with the thousands of civilians she'd murdered on rhea's orders, with nowhere to go but deeper into rhea's arms. hhhhhhhhhh

OTP

i don't think rhea is capable of having a healthy romantic or sexual relationship with any other playable character in the game (she might have had one with wilhelm, but that was 1000 years ago), but a relationship doesn't have to be healthy to be incredibly fascinating and compelling. that is why my rhea otp is rhea and cf!dimitri. the feedback loop of bloodthirsty revenge they would enforce for each other would be fun to watch... from several miles away.

nOTP

rhea/byleth. like... rhea outright doesn't see byleth as a person (in stark contrast to the other humans in her life, who she at least understands are people and not merely vessels) until the end of ss/vw and tried to erase their entire identity without their foreknowledge or consent. that's not something i can ship. i can fantasize about how fucked up it is i guess but as a ship? nah

also rhea/edelgard is one of those ships which i like mainly for horny reasons but under certain circumstances it goes instantly to squick. and it's a fine line but a line nonetheless.

random headcanon

this isn't so much of a headcanon as it is an interpretation of sothis' characterization through her behavior in 3 hopes, but i believe that sothis felt no affection for the nabateans she created; they were just tools to her, and she cared about them as much as a paperclip maximizer cares about the paperclips it makes. and that makes it extra tragic for rhea, who wastes her entire life after slaying nemesis trying to recapture a maternal love that only really existed in her own head.

gives me real nier automata vibes. isn't that hilarious? doesn't it make you laugh?

unpopular opinion

rhea is the villain everyone accuses edelgard of being. she's a sympathetic and fascinating character, but at the end of the day she's an alien colonizer who spent 1000 years fucking up an entire continent. and she didn't have to be any of those things. you know it. i know it. she knows it

song i associate with them

See these eyes so green I can stare for a thousand years Colder than the moon

It's been so long

Feel my blood enraged It's just the fear of losing you Don't you know my name?

You've been so long

And I've been putting out the fire with gasoline

favorite picture of them

SageOfAnys

frogbians

[shuckle24]

I'm Late

TW: Gore, implied torture

Oh fuck we’re late. 

It’s alright, calm down, it's okay, we’re just going to walk through the routine procedure today. Nothing too fancy, I’ll wrap up in about twenty minutes. I mean, ideally you would have me for the entire hour but I have a… well, occasion to be present at. 

Anywho, open wide! Lemme help you a bit, yes, perfect, amazing, thank you, I’m just going to need you to maintain that angle for the whole bit, shouldn’t be too hard with the mouthpiece on.

What’s that?

No, I cannot give you too much legroom, now can I? Can’t have you all wriggling about while I do the ol’ poke and pry. We don’t want a mess like the previous time, do we? And, uh, yes the kids are fine. Catherine, well, Catherine is doing Catherine stuff; I guess she’ll come around eventually but I do wish it were sooner, ya’know?

Steady now, this is a delicate process and I understand you might be slightly intimidated, it’s perfectly natural, yet this cavity must be thoroug- there we go. Doesn’t that feel immediately better?

Splendid! Now onto the next. Oh, will you look at the time? I must hurry hurry hurry if I am to show up on time. You know how Catherine gets when these events are delayed on my account, with her it’s always first impressions this and time management that. I don’t get what all the hullabaloo is about, it’s not like the people have anywhere else to be!

Oh, look at me lollygagging again, it’s no wonder she doesn’t like to put up with me.

Hm, I guess we’re going to have to go without the sterilisation on these ones, the clock’s a tickin’! C’mon, c’mere, don’t make a scene, you’re getting saliva all over the mouthguard. Here, that is another one; and, let’s see, hmph, the third. Oh! What’s this, this little one dislodged with its neighbour, delightful!

Oh come, now, Mr. Johnson, don’t create a fuss. Gee Whiz! I sometimes wonder how you can manage to croak that intolerable croak with this substantially wide mouthguard. Can we go wider now? Would you prefer that? Phew! Maybe the folks on the market really did fool ol’ Doc. Denholm, the mouthguard’s no good! I’ve had it, I’m going to have Catherine sew me a proper gag in the morning. 

Golly! Clock’s a tickin’, clock’s a tickin’. Steady now, not too much pressure, not too less, loosen it up, pull it out, suction tube to clean the blood and wallah! Houston, we have the fifth tooth!

Let’s see here: one, two, three, four, um, five, hm, maybe that’s six, I really need to replace that lightbulb, I can’t tell blood from mere shadows. There! Seven! I can feel it with my tweezers. Five out today, seven left in total. Why! We might be out here by Christmas time, Mr. Johnson. 

Now, it’s already past nine, so I simply can not manage the time for stitches. Here, these super-absorbent cotton balls will have to do. On top of which, there! Perfect! This angle and the positive pressure should push the blood from your head. Can’t bleed if you have no blood! Haw, haw! Never gets old.

Alrighty Mr. Johnson, until later then! I hope to see you done by Tuesday, at most, and that is a promise. Pleasure doing business with ya, and now Catherine and the amputees await!

#fiction #short stories #flash fiction #original fiction #short story #writing #descriptive #dentist #gore #Trigger warning #TW gore #blood #torture

[erigold13261]

What would happen to NSR if the Power Revolution failed? So a FR-NY AU? (Failed Revolution-Nueva York AU)

I can see their energy rate dwindling, since music energy does come from powers

would Tatiana or anyone else try to look into this deeper?

also not including the fact that Eve, Remi, Asa and Dodo have family that are really hurt after this

Music energy comes from passion put into the music, the skill behind it, as well as the fandbase/love it recieves. It actually has nothing to do with powers (as we can see with Mayday not having any of her own powers but she gains some because of her music, not the other way around).

So there wouldn't be a need to look into Nueva York from an NSR/Electrical power standpoint.

HOWEVER! You are right that Nueva York does host relatives (and friends) of NSRtists.

This failed revolution would have shed light on the fact that some family and friends are in Nueva York. Most likely what happened was that all these NSRtists were kept out of the loop of their friends and relatives being sent or taken to Nueva York (only exception is Ex-Jay knowing about Hobie).

Eve and Remi were close enough to Pav to recognize him from the media and start their own research.

I don't think Asa ever personally knew Peni, however his parents probably did (most likely lost connection to Peni after kits mom was out of the picture). So he learns of Peni through his parents telling him about the revolution since it was a pretty big event.

Dodo was probably not that close to kento. For some reason I like to think that they were really good friends as kids, but then just drifted apart because of distance. This is why Dodo didn't know Kento was in Nueva York until the revolution happened (and failed). So after seeing this, he probably starts asking his parents what happened to Kento and trying to figure out if this is his cousin or not (like it obviously is but Dodo doesn't believe it for a bit).

Ex-Jay as a whole realize that Hobie is probably in some deeper shit than they all realized. That, combined with Asa learning about Peni, just really push Ex-Jay into gear to try and help solve this whole mess (especially now that they have money from being NSRtists as well as Purl-Hew, and by extension 1010, behind them to help).

Then finally, Catherine would have been the first to even start looking into the revolution and what the fuck is going on with Miguel. It's been years since they really spoke and now she is seeing how he was running his business and doing all this awful shit, and even how he is twisting the past (and she can probably tell that he is twisting the story now because that is exactly what NSR was trying to do when the Rock Revolution was happening).

I also think Neon J would be very interesting in this shit show because honestly I see him as having been a financial investor into Nueva York. He was told that this place would help people manage their powers, and it was a promising start for the company (like the plans actually looked and sounded good at first) but then Neon either took a step back and just kept funding that shit without looking back in or was lied to (or legalities made it less of a lie and more of just omitting the truth) and kept funding the company thinking it was making a difference (which it was but not a good one lol).

All of these connections would get back to Tatiana. None of this is good, and especially not since (like some asks have pointed out a bit ago) Miguel is most likely going to point fingers at NSR and other people in high positions who have powers.

So it's not the lack of musical power that would cause Tatiana/NSR to look into the bullshit going on at Nueva York, but the personal connections and possible feud that is going to spark between companies that causes Tatiana and the whole of NSR to start planning out what they should do next.

Oooh, honestly love the idea that lesser NSRtists, like Ex-Jay or Synthia, get targeted by pop-up Nueva York stations. Like the FR-NY would draw a LOT more funding to Nueva York, especially from people like the Gojo Clan or Vandelay who want people to be less powerful than themselves.

Things like little temporary locations that are there to "help" places with high concentration of power users (like major cities and countries with a lot of natural born elementals), start to pop up more and more. Probably not IN Vinyl City, since I doubt NSR would allow permits for that, but around the city where it is out of NSR's immediate jurisdiction but still close enough to be a threat.

So yea. Main important take away is that the personal relationship are what the NSRtists notice first, and THEN the realization that Nueva York is much more of a problem now because of the vindication it got when powered individuals attacked.

#nsrtalk #spidertalk #nspidr #eriverse #eritalks #noart #asks

[closetedbumblebee]

White Wedding (Addison Montgomery x Female Reader)

Weddings are supposed to be full of love, happiness and gratitude. A wonderful celebration of two souls coming together as one. Today was one of those days. Callie and Arizona were finally and officially tying the knot.

It was supposed to be a happy celebration all round; all the happy couples loved up, attending the wedding together. Meredith and Derek, Christina and Teddy, Owen and Amelia, Richard and Catherine, among others showed their support for the sweetest couple who were currently reciting their vows.

You sat alone in the third row from the front, extremely proud of your friends. You were smiling from ear to ear as they each walked down the aisle. You knew their story like the back of your hand, and couldn’t contain the happiness you felt when Callie and Arizona finally came through for the other, especially after the accident. They had come so far.

You felt a pang of sadness, taking a look around the room at all the couples. You wished your girlfriend, Addison was here with you, but she had to fly back to LA after Sofia’s delivery. You barely spent enough time together as it is, both of you living in separate cities, leading separate lives. You did, however have a relatively strong and healthy relationship, taking the time to have long phone calls, FaceTime, and send as many text messages as you could. You tried to sneak weekends away  to LA, also. 

But, things felt strained for the last few months, and you both felt the need to remedy that. 

The last time you and Addison saw each other was during her stay, which was 4 days long. You hadn’t seen each other for five weeks, and you could tell the strain was getting to you. But, you both pushed those feelings down to focus on your friends. After all, you were both doctors.

When you did catch up, you and Addison had a slight argument the night before she was set to jet out of Seattle. You sort of made up, but you hadn’t really spoken since, just the odd text and call here and there.

You reminisced… 

“Honey, I really want to stay longer, but I can’t. I’ve got patients to get back to and-“, Addison said sadly.

“We’ve barely seen each other for weeks on end, and when we do, you suddenly have to rush off again. I get that you have a new life now and I respect that. Of course I do, but where the fuck do we fit in?! When you took the job in LA, we promised we’d make each other a priority regardless of whatever happened. You only fly back to Seattle when Richard needs you. I’m busting my butt every other week, rearranging schedules, going out of my way to see you. Because guess what, Addison? I love you! Clearly you don’t love me enough, otherwise you’d be making some sacrifices” you snapped.

Addison was taken aback. You had never seen her look so sad and upset. You just missed her so much, and wanted to be with her. You instantly felt guilty for snapping because you didn’t mean to go that far and before she could say anything, you jumped in again.

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just miss you so much. You know that. I’m so so sorry”, you said, equally sad as you reached for her hand.

“We’ll, I’m not going to say that didn’t hurt, because it did. But I understand. I guess it was deserved. I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I’m gonna do better, I promise”, she said.

You held each other tight, “I love you”, you said in unison.

Addison was about to say something else when - 

Her watch beeped, reminding of her flight and you drove her back to the airport where you shared one last kiss.

It wasn’t the way you wanted to make up, but it was a start.

Upon arriving back in LA, she texted immediately.

‘I’m back. I won’t say back home, because it isn’t home. Never has, never will be. My home is with you. FaceTime with me tomorrow? I love you baby xxxxx’, she texted

“Me too, my love. I most certainly will. I’m so sorry again. I love you too xxxx”, you replied.

Things improved between the two of you over the next four weeks, before she told you she couldn’t attend the wedding…

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really wanted to be there, but I just can’t get away”, she said, evidentially disappointed.

“Oh…okay. It’s fine. I can try and film it for you. It’s not going to be the same without you. I love you”. You were sad, but you didn’t want to push her.

……………..

Drawing you from your thoughts, you noticed the last of the guests arriving before the brides made their voyage down the aisle.

“Excuse me, beautiful, is this seat taken?”, you heard a voice say.

You thought you were dreaming. It couldn’t be. You looked up, to see a familiar, beautiful face smiling sweetly at you.

“Addison?!”, you shrieked

You both started crying as she pulled you up into her arms, holding you tightly.

“Surprise”, she whispered huskily into your ear.

“What are you doing here?! I thought you couldn’t come”, you cried.

“I couldn’t bear being away from you anymore”, she said, smiling through tears.

You kissed her with everything you had, before she pulled back.

“I mean it. I’m miserable in LA. I can’t stand it there. So, I’m coming home - for good”, she said.

You didn’t exactly comprehend what she said at first, but then gasped in delight, wrapping her up in your arms. Looking around, your friends were watching you both, all clearly happy for you.

You and Addison still had a lot to talk about, but right now, you put it to the side when Callie and Arizona appeared….

Everyone cried during the vow exchange, and you and Addison shared sweet, knowing looks, never letting go of each other’s hands.

…………..

At the reception, everyone gathered around Arizona and Callie as they had their first dance as a married couple.

Addison wrapped her arms around you from behind and rested her chin on your shoulder as you watched the happy couple. You hugged her arms, and she reached around to peck you on the lips. You two couldn’t get enough of each other.

When it came time for other couples to join the dance floor, you and Addison wasted no time walking hand in hand to the floor. At this point, everyone was in their own worlds, all content and happy, buzzing from the day’s events, while you and Addison were completely wrapped up in your own little bubble.

“So….”, she said, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you swayed to Shania Twain’s ‘You’ve Got a Way’.

“So…”, you repeated.

She jumped right into it. 

“I’ve missed you, my love. I really have. You are everything to me. I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise. I shouldn’t have been neglecting us”, she said softly, her eyes not leaving yours.

“Addie, hey… No, please. I’m sorry - I had no right to go off at you. I should’ve been more understanding. You uprooted your life and that’s a huge deal; because you’re a big deal, babe. I thought about what I said to you that night, and it was completely unfair, way out of line, in fact.. I was just projecting my feelings onto you. I was so scared that by you moving would have jeopardised our relationship without thinking about anything else. It was me, I was selfish”, you said, sheepishly.

“In other words, you thought I’d cheat on you. That’s it, isn’t it?”, she asked.

You felt tears in your eyes. Blinking them back, you smiled sadly and nodded.

“Come on now, you know I would never, ever, do that to you”, she said.

“I know. I…know. I just should've been more supportive of you. I know what this opportunity meant to you”, you said, your tone apologetic.

“It’s not all on you, okay. I realised I was working longer hours, and I turned my back on us because I was so overwhelmed with all of it, and avoided you, because I think deep down, I was scared too. I was afraid of hurting you, and was terrified the long distance wouldn't work at first. So, I can see how you must’ve felt that way”, Addison said, gently touching your face.

You looked into her eyes, to see the tears shimmering like white diamonds.

“Baby…”, you said.

“Being away from you, not being able to see you, or hold you, or kiss you, made me realise that you, that what we have, is worth more to me than any job. So I told Naomi I quit, called Richard, and he offered me a new job”, Addison smiled.

“Oh, Addie, that’s great!”, you said gleefully.

“Yes, yes it is. But, the best part is that I am now Grey Sloan’s Chief of Neo-Natal Surgery. I’m officially the boss now, baby. You know what that means. This is going to be so good for us!”, Addie said.

You were crying softly and gently touched her face. You knew what this meant; Addison being in charge of her own specialty, back on home soil meant everything to her. She was determined to fight for her relationship with you, so being the boss meant she could make her own rules and schedule. But, not only that, she deserved that title; worked hard for it her whole life; and you were determined to fight to the ends of the earth for her. 

It hit you then that she was really back.

“You’re home?!”, you asked, almost in shock.

“Mm-hmm. I’m home, baby”, she beamed.

“No more messing around, no more arguments. This is it - you and me. No more turning back. I want to fight for us”, she continued.

“I want to fight for us too”, you said back.

You smiled brightly at each other, feeling more connected and more in love than ever.

She was just about to kiss you when you heard the clinking of champagne glasses, as Callie’s father, Mr Torres called for a toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate my beautiful daughter, Calliope and her wonderful new wife, Arizona on their special day today. These two have gone through hell and back to be together. I have never felt prouder of my little girl, than I do today. I look around the room, and see it filled with such love. It’s a really beautiful thing. Real, true love is a once in a lifetime feeling, so if you’ve found it, hold onto it with both hands and never let it go, because it’s one crazy ride. Ladies, I congratulate you both on overcoming your obstacles and finding your way to each other. I love you both so much, my dear daughters. To Callie and Arizona!”, Mr Torres exclaimed, full of pride.

“To Callie and Arizona!”, everyone said.

The newlyweds kissed, before turning their attention to the wedding cake.

You and Addison watched the whole exchange, extremely proud of your friends, grateful to be a part of their special, historic day; however, deep down, you both pictured this day of your own, in your not so distant future.

Addison and you shared a look, and you both just knew. This was the path you wanted to take.

“Forever and always, Addie”, you said, winking at her.

“Forever and always, Y/N”, she repeated, clutching your hand, bringing it to her lips.

#greys anatomy #greys anatomy imagine #addison montgomery #addison montgomery x reader #addison montgomery x you #addison montgomery imagine #posted a fic to ao3 but someone took it way too seriously and didn't understand that fanfiction is supposed to be fun so I had to delete it #all new fic now #hopefully more to come #enjoy! #addison montgomery x female reader #love #new beginnings #callie and arizona #callie x arizona #calzona #meredith grey #derek shepherd #merder #ameila shepherd #owen hunt #miranda bailey #ben warren #richard webber #catherine avery #hit me up if you want more #send prompts!

[bippot]

Summary: Kevin's niece shakes up Jake's little peanut head, in the best way possible. For the first time in his life, he's nervous to even flirt with a girl cause, like, what if he fucks up? That would suck.

Despite how hard he tries, it takes Jake a while to get out of the dreaded friendzone because of overbearing Uncles, pigeons, drunken nights out and the famous Jake Martin reputation.

Tags: Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Himbo, Slow Burn, Co-workers, Friends to Lovers

The Crew, Jake Martin Masterlist - here

Chapter 4: Keys To A Candy Store

At the end of their shift, she waited for Kevin to lock up, as she did every day. Tapping her foot to a beat, she endured as her uncle took as long as he possibly could. Jake walked out of his room and walked towards her, his face a little sad. He scanned to see if Kevin was around and if the coast was clear, he asked, "Catherine said you hung out with me as a publicity stunt. Is this true?"

Two things could've happened. Either Catherine had implied that Y/N had set up the entire paparazzi ordeal. Or, Jake had misinterpreted something that his boss had said. Honestly, Y/N believed it to be somewhere in the middle.

"No, but we are going to pretend we were on a first date if anyone from the news asks, okay?"

"Was it a date?"

Fuck. She had no idea how to answer that question without seeming clingy or dismissive. Honestly, Kevin's question about the two of them got her thinking. She settled on, "We're just friends. It was a friend date?"

Oh. He tried to hide his disappointment as he replied, "A friend date. Got it."

Ignoring the awkward vibe that was slowly growing, she noticed that his shoelace was untied yet again, so she pointed it out, "Shoelace."

"Oh, thanks," he mumbled. He had done it on purpose so he could show her that he had been practising how to do it. Before she could try and do it for him, he bent down and did it himself, quietly whispering the rhyme as he worked.

Kevin watched in awe. He had tried to teach Jake that years ago, but he had never bothered trying to work on it. The look on his face was priceless. "Jakey? Did you just tie your laces by yourself?"

Proud of himself, he replied, "Yes. I. Did." It was a small victory, but it was still a victory. He had actually listened to her. Kevin could use that. The added bonus of Jake learning things? That could make them number 1. He had the driving skills. The crew spent most of their time interacting with Jake showing him how to do things that they thought he'd already be capable of doing. Eventually, they gave up and just started doing it for him. Now that Y/N was here, who knew? Jake was willing to actually learn how to do things.

When their week of punishment was up, Kevin called them both into his office, declaring, "Y/N, for some reason that I don't want to know about, Jake seems to listen to you. So, as of right now, you are his designated handler."

It took all of Y/N's willpower not to choke on her water. "What? He's a thirty year old man. He doesn't need a handler."

"Apparently, he does. Beth came up with this idea and Catherine approved it."

Neither of them minded this. They loved spending time together. Although, Y/N was a little confused. Jake didn't need a babysitter. He's a fully grown adult man who lives by himself and hasn't accidentally killed himself. Yeah, sure, he is a little accident prone. And can't help but get distracted by shiny surfaces. And she saw him trip over his own feet five minutes ago. And... okay, maybe a babysitter would be beneficial.

"We've been trying to crack into that peanut he calls a brain for years with no success. But, you're here for a month and, all of a sudden, he can do up his own shoes." He sounded a little bitter, but overall, it was supportive. "There are three ground rules to follow. 1) No messing around in the garage."

That made Y/N frown. She stated, "We're not even dating." For some reason, this hurt Jake's feelings a bit. It was true, but she didn't have to say that.

Raising his eyebrow, Kevin argued, "Do you think that's ever stopped him before?"

Nodding along, Jake agreed, "He does make a good point." Why did he have to admit that?

Gesturing towards his niece, he continued, "2) You must get your work done without fail."

Y/N nodded along. That was reasonable. Admittedly, it seemed as if she had gained more responsibilities and Jake had lost the few he did have. "And, 3) He's got to read a book a week. Preferably related to racing. If not, you've gotta teach him something."

This rule caused Jake to groan in disgruntlement. A word he probably didn't know. Learning was difficult for him. At school, his teachers just gave up when he asked for guidance. They had no idea how to teach him things, and now, as an adult, there were a lot of simple things that he didn't know how to do. Kevin sighed tiredly and gave her an example, "He can't tell the time. Maybe start with that? Beth tried, but he couldn't get it."

Jake gazed across at Y/N, waiting for her reaction. He was in no matter what the criteria were. She was about to become sort of like a sexy teacher to him. He was very down with that idea. Personally, Y/N had no problem with any of the rules. However, she could see how Jake might find them demeaning, so she asked, "Are you okay with this, Jake?"

He blinked at her, a bit surprised that she'd let him make his mind up. Usually, Kevin just tells him what to do. He didn't get an opinion. Plus, there was something about the way she said his name that felt different, more intimate somehow. "Totally down for this."

Smiling, she agreed, "This is fine by me."

"I have to tell you, though, Beth is a genius for coming up with this," Kevin admits. If it had been anyone else's idea, he would've taken credit for it. "She's got a real knack for this sort of thing."

Their arrangement worked out pretty well. Within the first week, he knew how to tell the time. By the second, he knew what each part of the car was called. It went so well that Catherine gave Y/N her own office so she could read to Jake in their down time. He liked that better. Her reading to him. It meant that he could ask her what all the long words meant.

While he was playing on the simulator, she would do the bulk of her work. Updating feeds. Tweeting. Adding content to the website. Plus, Catherine often asked if she could talk to the investors online for her. An odd press release here and there. Maybe a proofread of an email that would go out to sponsors. A little lending hand on the communication front.

Jake was faster. And happier. The team cared more about that first thing. But, Y/N prioritised him over the race. She was his training wheels. His safety net. He was learning so much from her, and now that he was getting to know her, his willingness to increase his knowledge was starting to slowly expand too. 

Well, calling the area which Catherine had given Y/N to work from an office was generous. It was more like a small storage room that they had mostly cleared and had no idea what to do with. Now, they had an idea. Y/N's School Room was the affectionate (and totally not teasing) name that Kevin and Beth called it.

It already contained a small desk, wobbly shelves, and a singular rusty locker, which was quite depressing to look at but she knew after a little redecorating, it had the possibility to look nice. Especially since Catherine had offered a 400 dollar budget for decorating. This would be easy.

Y/N decided to do everything herself. The painting. The removal of the shelves. The construction of her new furniture. She had even carried in (with the help of Jake) a thrifted sofa that she had cleaned and made sure didn't carry diseases. Everything but the locker had been moved out. It was way too heavy to lift, so she worked around it.

During their work time, she spent most of it fixing up her office so it would look as professional as the rest of the garage. One hand would be painting and the other holding open a racing book so she could read it to Jake. As she sat on the floor following along to IKEA instructions for a bookcase, Jake knocked on her door and let himself in. "Hey, whatcha doing?"

She looked up at him from the instruction sheet. "I'm learning how to put these things together. I think this is going to take a while," she said.

"Maybe I could help you?"

"Nah, I can handle it," Y/N said dismissively as screwed two planks together. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Aren't you?" He cheekily responded as he sat down next to her and began sorting the screws into categories. He was going to help whether she liked it or not. He was bored. So very bored. There's only so many times he could run the simulation in one day without becoming tired of it.

With Jake's help, the bookcase was built in no time. Y/N quickly realised that his help was more beneficial than she first realised. He was great at following instructions and found the process easy.

The only problem was that he really liked to watch her work. In fact, he couldn't seem to focus on anything else. Every time she looked up from what she was doing, his eyes were locked on her. It was fine. He didn't really need to be focused. She didn't really need him to build the bookcase.

But, it was fun to have his eyes on her when she was working. It made her feel pretty. Like she belonged in this garage. In this racing team. With this man.

When they were done, she gave him a playful punch on the arm and praised, "Couldn't have done it without you, hot wheels."

"You totally could have."

Agreeing, she nodded and repeated, "Yeah, I totally could've," then paused to joke, "Just take the praise."

Together, they continued talking as she loaded up the bookcase with all of the books she'd been told to read to him. There were a lot of books about the history of NASCAR. She was sure that none of the other members of the crew had ever read, so it was shitty of them to expect Jake to. Y/N was sure that her uncle hadn't read a full book in years.

All was well until Kevin came looking for Jake. He knocked on her door and opened it without her even telling him to 'come in', to see Jake lay with his head in Y/N's lap as she read Harry Potter to him. He'd insisted that he needed a break from all those non-fiction books and had always wanted to read them. So, she gave in.

"What's up, Uncle Kev?" Y/N asked, accidently dropping the Harry Potter book onto Jake's face. She apologised immediately, "Oh, sorry Jakey," and put the book to side so she could gently rub the area of impact.

"It's a good job that you hit him with The Sorcerer's Stone. The Order of the Phoenix would've knocked him out," Kevin teased. In response to their confused faces, he explained, "What? I used to read them to you when you were a kid."

Jake decided to joke with, "I didn't know you could read."

"I didn't know it was your job to fall asleep on my niece's lap." Busted. Jake got up with a huff and made his way to the gym.

Y/N's School Room was where Jake always hid out. It's not really hiding if everyone knows where you are. Still, he could relax on the sofa and talk to her. That's all he wanted to do. Is it a crime? Is it a crime to want to talk to a pretty girl instead of doing your work?

Yet, there was one day a couple of weeks later when Jake truly hid out in Y/N's office. She'd been in the bathroom when he burst through the door, attempting to get away from a telling off from Catherine, and looked for a place to hide.

Under the desk was an option. That would've been the safe option. However, Jake decided to squish himself into the old locker that Y/N had repainted so it didn't look so out of place. Despite the new look, it still was old and untrustworthy. That's probably why it locked shut when he closed the door behind him.

Shit. Shit. He was stuck. He tried the metal door when he was positive Catherine had left the room and no, no fucking way, it wasn't opening. No matter how hard he tried, that bastard wouldn't open.

It was just like middle school.

Now he just had to wait for Y/N to get back, which wasn't long, but he was freaking out so it felt like hours. Thankfully, Y/N walked in, no doubt to help look for him, and he let out a sigh of relief. She was his hero.

"I'm in here!" He yelled, banging on the door to further get her attention. She gave a little chuckle as she tried to open it from her side. "Don't laugh. It's actually really dark in here."

Even pulling from her side, the door wouldn't open. He was truly trapped inside. "Let me get Kevin. He'll call someone to get you out, okay?"

"Don't leave me alone. Just call him. And tell him not to say anything to Catherine!" Just by the frantic nature that he said that in, she knew he was not having a great time. 

That was an understatement. He didn't like confined spaces. He wasn't the biggest fan of the dark. And, it reminded him of all those times that George Filmore from the year above him pushed him into the stinky locker of Peter Michael's in middle school. Luckily, this locker didn't have a chronic farting condition.

It wasn't long before Kevin had got one of the mechanics to cut Jake out of the locker with a very scary looking buzz saw, which (of course) scared the driver further.

With a very loud and horrid whizzing metallic crunch, the door was removed. Jake stumbled out and instantly fell into Y/N's arms. Everyone else would make fun of him for this. She wouldn't.

 "God, that scared me shitless," he whispered, making sure that only she could hear him. Her arms wrapped around him tighter, pressing him up against her chest. She was so warm and he soon found himself coming back to normal. He had no idea that he'd been shaking until he stopped.

All of this because he refused to wear a Fake Steak t-shirt for the interview he was supposed to do today.

Sensing that he was in no shape to be interviewed, Y/N had a little discussion with Catherine about postponing it until tomorrow, which was a struggle but once Catherine realised how shook up Jake was, she agreed to give him the rest of the day off.

However, Jake didn't go home. He stayed cooped up in Y/N's office. He also managed to convince her that she should do her work on her laptop instead of the desktop she installed so he could rest his head on her shoulder as they sat next to each other on the couch. She even went and shut the door to her office, which she'd never done before. Usually, she left it wide open until he shut it.

It amazed him. Not once has she asked why he reacted so strangely. Not once. Yet, she still proceeded like everything he felt was valid and worthwhile. It was as if she knew he'd tell her once he'd fully calmed down. He really had to give her credit for that. He didn't know how she did it.  "Did you ever get stuffed in a locker at school?"

She could tell. Just by the way he'd asked. Trying to express her surprise without saying 'what? You? Super hot, super nice, pro athlete Jake Martin was bullied? That's insane', she commented, "That actually happens? I just thought that was something from the movies." 

He'd been too embarrassed to talk about it in front of the rest of the crew. If he'd told anyone, it would've been his mom, and even she didn't know the full extent of it.

"Yeah, kids are mean. Especially if someone is passionate about something. There was this girl at my school, her name was Gen. She was lovely. She also really loved Pokèmon. She had the albums full of cards. The t-shirts. The bedspreads. Eveything, you know. One day she came in with a skirt that had a bunch of Charizard's on and one asshole lit it on fire," Y/N explained sympathetically, reaching up and brushing her hand through his hair. "I saw her just before I moved. She had a little girl in one of those things. What are they called? -"

"Baby carrier?"

"That's it! Yeah, anyway, the baby's little shoes had Charizard's on them. I thought that was so cute."

Was there supposed to be a moral to this story? "So, what you're saying is that I have to have a child to get over my middle school terror of being stuffed into a locker?" He asked, totally confused but interested. If the answer was yes, would she be okay with her being the mother of his child? No. He'd adopt. They weren't even together. Fuck. Get your head away from shit like that, Jake.

"No. I was just telling a story," she clarified, giving him a smile when he looked at her. He smiled back and let out a chuckle. For some reason that was totally unknown to her, she felt the need to kiss him on the temple. So, she did, and teasingly declared, "Just stay away from rusty lockers and I think you'll be fine."

Had she just kissed him? Without him even trying to woo her? It was on the head, but still. He awkwardly laughed and brought out that warm smile that made her feel like she was melting. God. She was losing her mind. 

Chapter 6: Sushi And Transformers

#jake martin #the crew #jake martin x reader

[littlebabyboybarzal]

>> And Then Life Was Beautiful-Ch. 1

Fic rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 1.612

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex work

A/n: I do not claim to know him or any of his kinks, I just use him as a face claim. MINORS DNI. No one is permitted to copy/redistribute my work onto any other blog or website. Other than that, please reblog and comment!

Banner courtesy of @firefly-graphics

I can’t believe I’m doing this, Sidney thinks to himself as he scrolls through one of the many sugar daddy sites Kris gave him. Am I really that desperate for intimacy? Many of the girls are pretty, all of different races and backgrounds and most young. He can’t help but feel sleazy, like a creepy old guy trying to revitalize himself by proxy of these young girls youth.

“Not be that guy but when are you ever gonna get married?” Kris asks him as they wait in the car for his son’s, Alex, school to finish. Sid loves to tag along to see all the little ones race out of school and run to their parents who await them with open arms. He desperately wants that hot himself but he feels like the window of opportunity is closing.

“When I meet the right girl,” Sid says with a shrug. He shifts in his seat, the leather suddenly very uncomfortable and the car borderline claustrophobic. Sid has been hearing this question since he turned thirty, maybe even before I then. At first, it never bothered him. He chalked it up to people being nosy, wanting everyone to follow an imaginary social clock. By twenty-five have a job and be self sufficient, thirty be married and maybe have a kid. Yadda, yadda, yadda. He thought he had someone, through those dark times with his concussion but waiting around for him to get better was too much for her and the fact that he never popped the question after didn’t help matters.

~flashback~

“When the right girl comes along,” kris repeats with an incredulous huff. “Are you even trying to look for a partner?”

“I am!”

“Okay how? And don’t say at bars because that’s pathetic.” Sid closes his mouth before he can even get a word out. Fuck Kris for knowing him so well.

“Okay so maybe I’m out of practice. I don’t even know if I want a relationship right now. I just know I’d like to not come home to an empty house every game. Maybe have someone to talk to and be with who isn’t the team,” Sid says softly. Kris looks at his friend with sympathetic eyes.

“I understand. Maybe I can help.” Sid looks at Kris and sees the mischief on his face.

“Oh no, whatever you have planned I already don’t like it.”

“Oh come on! You haven’t even heard what it is!” Sid doesn’t hear the idea until after Alex is picked up and the two men talk over the phone later that night.

“A sugar baby?! That’s your great idea?!” Sid is appalled at the idea. Paying some girl to essentially be his not girlfriend? Insane. Absolutely insane. Sure, he knows guys in the league have done it and some have resulted in marriage but that’s such a small sample.

“Hey don’t knock it to you try it! Plus, you’re desperate enough,” Tanger snickers. Sid shoots him daggers at the phone even though he knows Kris can’t see him.

“I am not desperate.”

“Im just messing with you man, lighten up. Just give it a try, you never know. I’ll send you some sites for you to look at.” Sidney can’t help but think that Kris has been on these sites before.

“Have you been a-a sugar daddy?” Sid asks and cringes at his voice even saying the title. When did his life get so weird?

“It’s not a dirty word Sid and yeah. Before I met Catherine and I was enjoying my new found fortune. It was fun but not for me I guess.” Sid’s phone dings in his ear and he looks at it to see a text from Kris with links to to the websites.

With an annoyed sigh he tells Tanger he’ll talk to him later and hangs up.

Rianne Thomas is twenty-four and on her third potential sugar daddy date this week. What is wrong with men? They all think that she needs to be at their beck and call, given a small allowance on top of apparently fucking them. What these fake sugar daddies want is a prostitute and not that there is anything wrong with that, that isn’t what Rianne does and it isn’t what she wants to do.

The new guy, some real estate investor named Robert is talking her ear off about shit she doesn’t care about and how his wife is so awful, blah blah blah. Rianne bats her eyes and nods when appropriate, laughs at his not funny jokes and tries not to look so repulsed by his touch. She thought he was the one when they talked previously but he was a good liar she supposes. They part amicably, Rianne going home to her cozy townhome outside the city of Pittsburgh to unwind and forget about that weird ass date. The home was purchased for her by a previous sugar daddy, the perfect three-story brick townhome with a backyard. Sometimes she misses that SD but the two parting ways is for the better.

It’s the last week before school starts and she still doesn’t have a new SD which is a problem because her loan is big. Her parents helped her with her first degree, public policy and analysis from Emory University in Atlanta, her family’s hometown. She took a year off to work but after realizing she needed a bit more knowledge for her field, she decided to go back to school. Unfortunately for Rianne, grad school must be paid on her own. Spending your whole life in one city leaves it feeling small, so she decided to get out. There were too many bad memories in that city and the closeness to everyone she grew up with was annoying. Now was the time for Rianne to spread her wings and get a bit of freedom. She chose a program far from home and the University of Pittsburgh was the first school to accept her and it’s a good program for her master’s in public health, so she said fuck it and moved during the summer. At the time, she was with her former sugar daddy, and he offered to get her a home so she would have a nicer place to stay while she’s in school. He was always so generous with her, too bad he had to fuck it up. Rianne goes to her room and changes for a shower and afterward she dresses and winds down with some wine and trashy tv.

When Sid comes across Rianne’s profile on the sugaring site, he’s immediately smitten. She’s gorgeous and seems pretty normal compared to the other girls on the site. There’s the added bonus that she’s in Pittsburgh and doesn’t seem to care too much about sports, so no groupies thank God. Sid finds her Instagram account and scrolls through it, impressed at all her adventures and even more at how attractive he finds her.

It takes him nearly two weeks to message her on Instagram. Why would she want to get into this arrangement with an old guy like me? Sid thinks to himself, granted he had seen the profiles of the other men on the site, and they were much older than he is. If anything, he has a better shot than they do. One afternoon, he works up the courage to send her a message. Sid feels like a teenager again, anxiously waiting for a pretty girl to call or message him back and him still not knowing what to say to her when she does.

Rianne_Thomas: Um hey? Are you really Sidney Crosby?

SPC87: Last time I checked yes. Would you like proof?

Rianne_Thomas: Yeah, if you don’t mind

Sidney goes to fish out his license from his wallet and takes a picture of it. He remembers to thank his sister for teaching him how to use the editing tool in the photo app on his phone while he blacks out his address. He sends the picture to her and waits but the wait isn’t long.

Rianne_Thomas: Okay I believe you. So…how did you find me?

SPC87: This is embarrassing but through the sugaring site you posted your info on?

Rianne_Thomas: Ooohh! Are you interested in being my sugar daddy Sidney?

Sid blushes hard, no one has ever called him daddy. At least not to his face.

SPC87: I guess so, that is why I was on the website in the first place.

Rianne_Thomas: How do I know that you’re actually good for the money? I know you play hockey but do y’all actually make money?

Sid snorts at her insinuation that he’s broke.

SPC87: I have more money than I know what to do with. Feel free to look me up.

Rianne_Thomas: Ok maybe I will!

Rianne does a quick google search of the guy and her jaw drops. Perhaps he’s kind of cute and he’s not so fucking old. His award section on Wikipedia takes so fucking long to read though and his salary is pretty nice too.

Rianne_Thomas: Aight so you got some money and apparently aren’t half bad at hockey

SPC87: 😂 I do alright I guess

Rianne_Thomas: More than alright it seems. Well I’m intrigued, maybe we can meet up and get to know each other a little better

SPC87: I’d like that

Rianne_Thomas: Great! I’ll let you know when and where I’d like to meet, I am a busy woman you know

SPC87: I like a woman who takes charge plus this is about your needs if not more than mine

Rianne_Thomas: Ooohh keep talking like that and you might get more than you bargained for Sidney!

SPC87: That doesn’t sound so bad to me 😊

Tags: @princessphilly @prettybiching @izzylovestheworld @paintingtheice @rinkrats @barzzal

#and then life was beautiful #atlwb #atlwb update #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby x f!reader #sidney crosby #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine

[darthkruge]

Okay okay okay so imagine Reader is abducted by the separatists because she ( or nb reader ) is a very well loved member of the senate. So obviously Anakin goes to save her, but his idiot plan gets him captured as well so then it's up to Reader to talk her way out of this mess, get to her idiot boyfriend, free him and then both of them try to make it out alive. Bonus points for Obi-Wan looking very tired and sick of Anakin's ideas in the background. What do you think?

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader ~ Rescue Operations?

Summary: After the Reader is captured by the Separatists, Anakin rushes to save her. When this doesn’t work out, the Reader has to get her and her boyfriend out of this mess. 

Warnings: Language, whump, one scene where the Reader gets beat up, Reader is a badass, Anakin is completely in love with his badass girlfriend and we love that for him

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Catherine, my love!! I’m sorry this took me so long, I have nothing to say for myself other than my poor organization skills. But I’m obsessed with this request, I hope I did it justice <3

gif credit (x)

You groaned as you opened your eyes and attempted to shake the drowsiness that seemed to cling to your very bones. You blinked, trying to get your bearings and remember what had happened. You were preparing for your speech at the Senate, trying to pass a peace treaty between the Republic and some smaller territories that were debating joining the fight against the Separatists. You’d been fighting for support for the treaty for months and you finally had the chance to give one last speech before the vote. 

You’d been pacing in your Coruscant apartment, practicing the speech for your boyfriend a million times. After you finished your recitation, you exited the room, needing to get your notes that you’d seemed to misplace. So you went into your office and… nothing.

Why couldn’t you remember after that?! You opened the door to your office, walked inside, and… 

You sighed as you came back to the present, leaning against the wall behind you and looking around. You were clearly in a cell of some sort and the Separatists were almost certainly behind this. You were still in your Senate attire, although it had been thoroughly scuffed up, and they’d taken your datapad and other communication devices. You felt around your boot and smiled. Your knife was still there. They must have assumed you wouldn’t be carrying a weapon to your speech and not done a thorough enough check. Whatever the reason, you were thanking the Maker it was still there. 

Back in Coruscant, Anakin was walking the Temple halls in a crazed state. When you didn’t show up for your speech, he immediately panicked. He knew how important this treaty was for you and the entire Republic; you’d been going over it for forever and there is no way you’d just blow it off without telling anyone. The rest of the Senate was also concerned. You’d grown up in one of the poorer districts and, thus, had a sense of relatability and humility that most were drawn to. Whether or not they agreed with your policies, almost everyone could understand that you always kept the interest of the people at the forefront of your mind. 

When Obi-Wan walked up to him with a ripped piece of your clothes and your scattered and crumpled notes, Anakin felt his heart drop. 

“It was the Separatists. They must have knocked her out in her office and escaped through the vents.”

Upon seeing his absolutely heartbroken expression, Obi-Wan added, “We’ll get her back, Anakin. I promise.”

Anakin could only nod, ideas for a plan to save you already running round his head. 

You’d been in this kriffing cell for four days now. Or maybe it was five? You were desperately trying to keep your wits about you but it was so hard; they brought you a tiny ration of food and water once a day and it was not near enough to keep your strength up. You’d spent your time trying to carve your way through the bars but your knife was no match and you quickly gave up, not wanting to dull the blade. You’d found a loose brick hidden around the floor and used the knife to cut it out, allowing you to hide your weapon under it on the off chance they searched you again. 

You tried to think of a plan to escape but they hadn’t even opened your door yet. There was no way you could get out by yourself and, until someone came in that you could attack, it was pointless to even try. They kept you in complete darkness and silence, no way to tell how much time had passed aside from the daily rations. You assumed you were on a Separatist base but that proved unhelpful; they were widespread and the cell held no defining features of climate or location. You had tried calling out to see if anyone else was around. Each time, you were met with your own echo. 

You stilled, hearing footsteps approach you. A Separatist guard opened your cell door, roughly pulling you out. You yelped, legs not cooperating after so long of sitting in the cramped cell. He led you into another room that was barely brighter than your own. Sizing up the guard, you felt fear creep in. No matter how hard you tried to banish your anxieties, knowing they’d only serve to lessen your already shaken focus, it was sometimes impossible. 

“Tell us which planets are deserting.” He commanded.

You met his stare evenly, refusing to let your fear betray you. There was absolutely no chance you’d tell him anything. As soon as the Separatists learned which planets were thinking about joining the Republic, they’d send armies to wipe them out immediately. You refused to let that happen.

“Fine. Be that way.” The man pulled his fist back and sent it into your cheek, the impact sending sparks of pain throughout your entire body. He brought his foot up, kicking you in the gut and you fell harshly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hair, hoisting up your body as if it were a ragdoll. You gathered your strength and spit in his face, enjoying the way his smug look disappeared. In retaliation, he slammed you into the wall, the impact making stars cloud your vision. 

The man released you and you fell, your consciousness already starting to detach from your body. You tried to reason with yourself, hoping logic would aid you. This is a trauma response. I’m not going to die. My body can take this. I will black out, but I will wake up again. They’re not going to kill me. They need me alive. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. Somehow, the hardest part is this was banishing the thoughts of that beautiful boy from your head. You knew that if you allowed yourself to think of him, to fathom how he would blame himself should this be your end, you would give in. 

Instead, you focussed on the physical pain you felt, on the rage you channeled to this guard. You hated how weak you felt, how exhausted you were. You allowed your mind to hone in on all the ways you could hurt this man, given you had your full strength. You let yourself hate yourself, appalled at how you couldn’t even fight back. With every punch he threw at you, you went further into your head, into the one place this man couldn’t touch. Eventually, your mind started spinning from dehydration, pain, and overexertion. All you could do was curl into a fetal position and hope it somehow stopped. 

“What do you mean you’re going to find her?” Obi-Wan said, running after Anakin.

“It’s been days, Obi-Wan, days. There are only so many Separatist bases in the galaxy and Y/N’s on one of them.”

“Anakin, don’t you think they’ve planned for a rescue mission?! This is Senator L/N we’re talking about! And they took her right before the vote, this was clearly a thought-out attack, stop acting like it’s simple!”

“It is simple! Those Separatist assholes have Y/N. And it’s been days. What if she thinks we forgot about her? What if she thinks we’ve given up? They could be doing fucking anything to her and I’m not going to let her stay there for another minute!”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan began but Anakin waved him off.

“I’m sorry, Master. But if the Council won’t do anything, I will.”

“Anakin, the Council is trying! They just don’t have enough troops right now to send a full rescue mission after one Senator. They just want a few more days, then some troops should be back from their missions and you can have your full battalion.” Obi-Wan took a breath and lowered his voice, empathy for his friend clear in his words. “I know you love her. I want her back, too, you know. I’ve grown quite fond of her; her friendship is quite dear to me. All I’m asking is you be careful and think this through.”

“Believe me, I have thought this through. I wouldn’t do anything to put her in danger, we both know that. And while a few days doesn’t seem like much to the Council, we’ve seen the harm these Separatists can inflict in far less. Listen, it might not be the strongest plan I’ve ever made but, if it’s between a semi-formed plan and none at all, the choice is already made.”

With that, Anakin jumped into his ship and took off into the night. Obi-Wan sighed, leaning his head into his palm. He knew how much you meant to him and he knew of Anakin’s frustration with the Council. They moved slowly, wanting to figure out every angle before jumping into a decision. While Anakin was a brilliant strategist, he tended to act impulsively when someone he loved was in danger. As Anakin traveled further and further from Coruscant, the older Jedi could only hope that the both of you returned home quickly and safely. 

Anakin looked at his ship’s display and cursed when he realized he was low on fuel. He’d been piloting for hours and there was still no sign of you. He was searching out for you with the Force and, still, nothing. Finally, he felt a faint energy pulse through the Force. He followed it to what was supposed to be an old abandoned Separatist base, concerned by how weak your lifeforce felt. 

He parked the ship and got out carefully, trying not to alert anyone to his presence. He pulled out his lightsaber but was careful not to ignite it. He saw an open door and ran through it, relief blinding him as he felt your energy grow stronger with each step he took. He turned the corner and saw a crumpled body on the floor of a tiny cell.

No, Anakin thought, it can’t be her. 

Without thinking, Anakin ignited his lightsaber, wanting to use the light to discern if the figure was truly you. The noise bounced off the walls and startled you awake. He mentally cursed himself and instinctively turned off the saber, not missing the even louder noise it made with it turned off. He inwardly facepalmed, realizing if he hadn’t alerted the guards before, they sure as hell knew now. 

You blinked groggily, wincing at your immense injuries and bruises. You remembered passing out while that asshole beat you and now you-

Wait, You thought, is that a fucking lightsaber?

You knew you must have heard it wrong, there’s no way the Council would have approved a relief mission this quickly. Further, there is no way it would consist of just one Jedi. 

Suddenly, the lightsaber re-lit, illuminating your boyfriend’s face. His determined expression grew stronger as he noticed the 10 guards surrounding him and pointing their blasters directly at his head. You smiled. He could take out ten guards with his eyes closed. You called to him in shock, hardly believing your eyes. He looked at you and immediately widened his eyes as he saw a guard come up behind you and point a blaster directly at you from outside your cell. 

“Lightsaber on the floor, Jedi, or the girl dies.” The guard growled. 

He looked at you in anguish and you could tell he was already beating himself up for “messing up” your escape plan. You shook your head, hoping he understood your message: this isn’t your fault. 

“Anakin don’t-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before his weapon was on the floor. He put his hands on his head. As they grabbed him, you stood in helpless silence as they threw him in the cell beside you. They locked the doors and, once again, you were in darkness. 

You desperately crawled to the edge of your cell, trying to reach out to him. He was doing the same and when you felt his fingertips against yours, you almost started sobbing. You weren’t alone anymore.

“You came for me.” Your voice was soft, disbelief lacing your words. 

“Of course I did, my love.”

Then, as if everything finally registered in your brain, you reached out and tried to slap his arm. “Anakin, what about the Council? They’ll kill you when they realize you went on a rescue mission, alone, and without approval! Ani, the only thing keeping me going in here was knowing that you were safe! And now you’ve gotten yourself thrown right next to me, no weapons, no light, no food, no water, no escape! What the fuck are we going to do?!”

Anakin had opened and closed his mouth multiple times throughout your speech, trying to find a way to plead his case but was left without one. 

“I just wanted to save you.” The grief in his voice made you sigh and take a step back. This was your Anakin you were talking about. Your safety was his priority, always. Besides, doing all this because he was afraid for you? You couldn’t possibly stay mad. You smiled, despite yourself. Anakin. You thought, slightly shaking your head. 

“Fuck, I love you. Is it selfish that there’s a small part of me that’s glad you’re here with me?” You said, breaking the silence. 

Anakin breathed out a sigh of relief, glad you weren’t upset with him anymore. “Not at all, my love. So long as it isn’t bad that my least favorite part of this is not being able to see or kiss you properly because of this damn darkness.”

You chuckled, lacing your fingers with his once again. “You wouldn’t want to see me right now.”

Anakin froze. “Y/N? What are you talking about?” His voice was serious, clipped. He knew you would try and make it seem less than it was. You winced, realizing there was no way to lie your way out of this one.

“Just what the Separatists would call aggressive negotiations, I presume.”

“How bad?”

“It’s fine, Ani, I promise. Let’s just focus on getting out of here, okay?”

Anakin took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Alright. But as soon as we get back you’re going to a medical droid.”

You groaned. “Anakin I hate-”

“I know you hate the medical droids. But that’s only because they always rat you out when you try and lie to me about the extensiveness of your injuries.”

“You lie about how bad your injuries are, too! Remember that one time you came back from Kamino?!”

Anakin laughed, despite himself. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“You were literally bleeding from the head! And you said, and I quote, ‘it’s just a scratch’” Every time you thought back to that day, you were incredulous. 

“Alright, alright! Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“That’s my line!”

“Y/N,” He warned.

You smiled. Maker, you missed him. You honestly didn’t think that anyone else would have you laughing while you were beaten and captured. 

“Okay. What’s the plan?” Anakin said, back to the matter at hand.

You lowered your voice, leaning toward his cell so you could talk without being heard. “I snuck a knife in with me and I’ve been able to keep it a secret. Now that you’re here, it might actually come in handy. The problem was that I couldn’t stab anyone because no one would come into the cell. I need you to get them here. Push them against the side of your cell, the one closest to me, and I’ll stab them. Then while they’re hurt, you run out, unlatch my cell, and we’ll go.”

“I’m dating a fucking genius!” You could just about hear the smile in his voice. 

You smirked. All things considered, you were pretty proud of yourself. 

“When do you want to do this?”

“They bring daily food and water rations in the morning, I think? I can’t exactly tell what time it is, they’ve kept it so dark and isolated. Regardless, the next time they come by I need you to get them in here. They normally just leave the food outside and push it under the door.”

Anakin could hear the disorientation in your words and wanted nothing more than to be able to see you, to be able to hold you and reassure you that it would all be alright. 

“Okay, angel. Got it.”

“Anakin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming to get me. It’s really good to hear your voice.”

“Always, my love.”

Both of you silenced when you heard those footsteps. You smiled for the first time as you heard them. We’re going to get out of here.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Y/N! This brick in here is loose!” Anakin announced loudly. You bit your cheek to suppress a smile as you watched Anakin catch the guard’s attention.

“What did you say, Jedi?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Anakin responded, dramatically feigning innocence. 

The guard huffed and you internally cheered as he roughly opened the door. He walked over to your boyfriend, keeping the blaster pointed at him. As soon as the guard’s attention shifted to the “loose” brick, Anakin used the force to knock the blaster out of his hand and push him against the wall of the cell where you slashed his Achilles tendons. 

The guard howled in pain and you knew you had to work quickly if you were to get out of here before the rest of the Separatists found you. Anakin fumbled with the latch on your cell, the immense darkness making it difficult. Finally, he got it open and ushered you out. The both of you took off in a run and he gripped your hand with his metal one as you did so. 

You immediately stopped as you felt his hand roughly pulled from yours. 

“We’ve got you now, Skywalker” The guard said.

“Y/N, you ready?”

You blinked, unsure what he was referring to. Then, you heard an object whipping through the air and on instinct shot your hand out, catching it. You ignited Anakin’s lightsaber that he had summoned to you with the Force, it’s signature buzz making you feel powerful beyond words. 

The light caught you off guard and you squinted until your eyes adjusted. You saw Anakin held back by two guards. Hearing faint footsteps, you took off in a run. Anakin ducked as you swung wildly, hitting and taking out both guards.

“You done holding us up?” You said, extending your hand toward him once more and passing him his lightsaber. 

Anakin smiled, accepting it. “My sincerest apologies.” 

You both ran, hand-in-hand, until you finally made it to the exit.

“What?” You said, as Anakin stopped abruptly and looked at you, panicked. 

“The ship! It’s out of fuel!”

“It’s what?!”

“I-” Anakin and you stared at each other, flickers of doubt coming into your gaze. You can’t believe that you’d been able to escape for nothing. 

“Anakin! Y/N!”

You whipped your head around at the sound and were met with another ship a few meters down, Obi-Wan piloting it.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?” You and Anakin looked at each other in shock before taking off in a sprint, one guard now close behind you. 

He started shooting and Anakin pulled out his lightsaber, deflecting some of the shots. As he focused on that, you pulled your knife back out of your boot and sent it flying into the guard’s chest, effectively stopping his pursuit. 

Anakin smirked at you, awestruck. You shrugged before jumping into the ship, extending your arm to Anakin and helping to pull him up with you. You entered and immediately leaned against the wall of the ship, relief coursing through you. You laughed and Anakin joined in. He immediately pulled you into him, kissing you hard. 

He broke away from the kiss, looking at you with adoration. “You are a fucking badass!! You’ve never even held a lightsaber and between that and your fucking tiny knife you took out four guards!! I didn’t even get any! I’m not going to lie, Y/N, I’m a bit jealous.”

You laughed, leaning into him but wincing. As the adrenaline wore off, your pain was suddenly quite palpable. He noticed and pulled back, scanning your face and body. 

His smile fell as the extent of your injuries sunk in. Your busted cheek, scratched face, and ripped clothing that exposed some of your many bruises across your torso and limbs were overwhelming. 

“You kids alright in there?” Obi-Wan said, walking in from the cockpit. His smile died on his face as well as he took in your form.

“I’m alright, guys. It’s not as bad as it looks.” You said dismissively.

“That doesn’t look like nothing!” Anakin shot back. 

Obi-Wan looked at you apologetically. “Anakin’s right, Y/N. Please, rest. We’ll be back to Coruscant soon.” 

Coruscant! The Senate! “My speech!! Fuck, I had to present my speech! I’ve been gone, what, a week? They’ve probably already voted, Kriff.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “They decided to suspend the vote until you were back, Senator. They truly care for you and your policies.”

Your heart swelled at Obi-Wan’s words. You looked into Anakin’s eyes and saw that he agreed with the statement full heartedly. He took your hand and gently ran his thumb up and down its back. 

“Rest, my love.” He whispered to you, coaxing you to lie down on the coach and pulling off his Jedi cloak. He wrapped it around you as a makeshift blanket, smiling as you pulled it closer to you and drifted off. 

Obi-Wan walked up to Anakin and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s leave her be, okay?”

“I don’t want her to wake up when I’m not here.”

The elder Jedi nodded in understanding. “She’s exhausted, she won’t awaken until we get back to the temple, I assure you. And if she does, you’ll just be in the other room.”

Anakin looked at you once more before smoothing the hair back from your face and gently placing a kiss on your forehead. He let his palm run down your cheek before he finally pulled himself away and walked into the cockpit with Obi-Wan. 

“So, how did you plan pan out?”

Anakin looked at his former Master, unamused. “I think you already know. How’d you know to come get us, anyway?”

“Well, when you didn’t come back or even attempt to contact the Council for over a day I assumed something had happened. I tracked your ship.”

Anakin nodded. “If not for Y/N, we’d probably both be dead.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I heard! Four guards?! You’ve found yourself a good one.”

Anakin smiled. No words were needed, everyone knew that was completely and utterly true.

------

if you would like to join my taglist, it is linked on my pinned! please dm me if you would like to be taken off. if your username is crossed out, it is because, for some reason, i couldn’t tag you <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @astxrias @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker 

#megan writes #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin x reader #anakin imagines #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin x fem!reader #anakin x female reader #anakin whump #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker whump #anakin skywalker fluff #request

[musezip]

Locked out

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I’m terrible at titles

The six x reader tag is dry y'all wtf

Warning(s) : Cathy says a few ✨nsfw✨ things, heavily implied fem!reader but they/them pronouns is used, cursing

Summary : Cathy gets locked out of the house and asks to stay the night with you. And at the end of the night you find yourself in bed with a former monarch

°•☆▪︎☆•°•☆▪︎☆•°•☆▪︎☆•°•☆▪︎☆•°

Shit.

Cathy turned around at the slight bang, to reveal what she already expected : The front door closed due to the wind.

“Keys, Cathy keys-" Cathy desperately went through their pockets. "Come on Parr you're supposed to be the smart one-!" They searched for a few minutes. Though all in vain as they groaned and slid to the floor.

They reached for their phone, and whether it was pure luck or fate, they did atleast bring that with them.

They thought about texting Catherine for a moment— But decided against it, 'it's the middle of the show— She won't even have her phone.'

Cathy scrolled through their contacts, trying to figure out anyone they could ask for help.

Their eyes landed quickly, the alternate that had a day off— Rightfully so, Being a super swing they do a lot of covers.

They contemplated their options before opening it, realizing they really didn't have any other options.

—

Cathy Parr : Heyyyy- could i ask for a favor

{Y/N} : Course- what do you need?

Cathy Parr : could you come pick me up i locked myself out of the house :))). And could i stay with you for the night- maybe- please-

{Y/N} : You what-

Cathy Parr : Pls pls pls, I'll ask Catherine if she can give you a few more days off pls.

{Y/N} : Okay okay, i'm coming- this better be a one time thing

Cathy Parr : ofc no worries

—

Cathy cheered— Thanking the gods they asked for all the alts their numbers.

It was originally for calling in sick, till it became making a group chat of the entire cast and talking a lot more outside of the show

Soon enough a car pulled up, Thank god they all knew eachother's adresses in case of emergency.

"Alright, Get in before i change my mind." You lowered the Car's window to speak to Cathy— Who looked almost in awe at seeing you in completely casual attire.

"Right." They snapped out of their trance and got up from the side walk, taking the passengers seat, sending a smile your way.

As the car started up, you decided to make conversation, it would make an awkward night if you didn't talk to the survivor at all.

"How did you end up like this?"

Cathy stared at you before giggling, "i was throwing away leftovers from takeout— No one besides me would want it anyway. I forgot my keys and the door shut because of the wind." You raised a brow before responding.

"Makes sense, i suppose."

The rest of the ride was spent with small talk, You were having small talk— with a former queen. If you'd told anyone about this you doubt they'd believe you.

Soon enough you'd arrived at your home, Cathy staring in awe, despite knowing where you live and being able to come over any time, they never actually did, assuming you'd be uncomfortable with them just showing up.

You chuckled lightly at the wonder in Cathy's eyes as you opened the car door, the noise basically smacking them out of their thoughts and quickly following you out of the car and into your house.

Inside, Cathy looked around. It wasn't much— but it was still pretty.

"You wait here, i'll see if the geust bedroom is available." Cathy raised a brow, did you already have someone over?

You laughed at them, "It's just because it's normally a huge mess, no one ever comes over to spend a night it's basically a storage room with a bed in the middle." Cathy let out a noise of understanding.

“Make yourself feel at home! Or— Whatever they always say.” Cathy chuckled, barely audible to you as you walked away to the geust room. 

After a few minutes you returned, Startling Cathy when you started talking. “It is absolutely not, It’s a mess. Unless you like sleeping in between dirt bags, which in that case go ahead.” Cathy snickered, shaking their head. “Rather not. I imagine it’s rather uncomfortable.” 

You smiled. “If you want you can sleep on my bed, i’m fine sleeping on the couch.” 

“Wait-”

“Because it seems rather rude to have the geust sleep on the couch.”

“We could sleep togheter.” 

You blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

“What?” 

“I don’t want you to sleep on the couch either- It’s your house after all. And i wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same bed.” Cathy’s face slowly became a dark shade of red, only now realizing what they really said.

“But i don’t know- You don’t have to-” 

“I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Oh-” 

Cathy stared into space for a minute, processing your answer. “Do you have any sleeping clothes with you by some kind of miracle?” You asked, way to casually for the flustered queen to understand. Cathy smiled sheepishly, their face becoming even more red. “I have a bra on?” You grimaced. “Who in their right mind sleeps while wearing a bra.” 

Cathy grinned, seeing an oppurtunity. “Want me to sleep naked then?” 

This time your face went red. “I’ll see if i have anything else for you.” You walked off again, leaving the queen to process everything that just happened. “Oh sweet lord.” Cathy whispered to themself. They put their face in their hands, blushing heavily. 

You returned in only a matter of seconds. Cathy had already calmed down in the short time, but your face was still burning red, Causing a light chuckle from Cathy.

“What’s your size?” 

“I... honestly don’t know.” Cathy said, causing you to throw your head back with a groan. “That means you’re gonna have to see if it fits— And i don’t know if you have the energy to go through my entire closet.”

“I’ll really have to sleep in my bra then.” Cathy joked, Though not really knowing if it was fully a joke. “How the hell do you do that?” You asked. “It’s comfortable?” Cathy shrugged, smiling. You looked at her with confusion for a few more seconds before continuing. 

“I mean if you’re okay, and comfortable, with that.” Cathy nodded. “It’s not like we’ve never seen eachother like that before.”

Cathy had almost said it in something others would consider a romantic way. It was almost like they were suggesting something different— Of course you knew that wasn’t it. But you still blushed at the thought.

Cathy laughed as she saw your blush grow. “Don’t worry! I’m  not suggesting anything!”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding

“Unless you want me to—”

You slapped your hand over your mouth, blushing furiously. Cathy laughed harder. “I’m kidding, i’m kidding!” They threw their hands up in defence. “I’m only teasing you. Promise.” Cathy grinned. 

“Right—, Yeah let’s just go to sleep now.” You walked off to your bedroom, leaving Cathy to undress. 

The moment you sat down you slammed your head down on your pillow. Processing the entire situation. You quickly went to your closet to change yourself. 

A few minutes after you were done Cathy walked into the room. 

Cathy smiled sheepishly. “Well time to sleep then?”

You raised your brow. “Shouldn’t you message the others about where you are?” You asked, Cathy chuckling in response. “I’m an adult.” 

“Doesn’t always seem like it.”

“Hey-!” 

You laughed as Cathy crossed their arms in mock anger. “I’m 21 thank you.” 

“21 going on 5 then.” You chuckled as Cathy gasped. “Let’s just get to bed!” Cathy walked over to the bed, ushering you over to the other side. You quickly thanked the gods you decided to get a double bed as Cathy pulled you down.

“Lay down you maniac!”  Cathy grinned playfully holding you down to the matress. “For the first time in my life i want to sleep, which means you have to as well.” They looked up at you for a reaction, grinning more when you rolled your eyes but obeyed. 

“Like i said 21 going on 5.” You smiled as Cathy turned the remaining bed side lamp off. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Can’t exactly do that now can i-” 

“Shut up! Go to sleep.” 

And as you both layed down and finally went to sleep, you realized you'd have some feelings to work out.

#Six #six the musical #six the musical x reader #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #Catherine Parr six #Six Catherine parr #catherine parr x reader #Character x Reader #x reader #six x reader

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 25

Y/n puts an end to everything.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

⚠️HUGE⚠️ trigger warnings: rape, drugging, sex trafficking, VERY graphic descriptions of violence, physical violence (please let me know if I leave anything out)

Hannibal could walk through a valley of human suffering and not even flinch. You couldn't tell if that made him subhuman or superhuman. You, however, were just human.

You wanted to be a badass. You wanted to kick the door down and make a scene. But one woman was enough to break you.

She was wearing only a large t-shirt. A cloth bandage covered in blood covered her pubic area like a makeshift pair of underpants. She laid limply against a stone. Her arms were punctured where needles had been.

"I don't..." she mumbled, clearly intoxicated beyond function. "...don't make me..."

You knew you couldn't afford to stop. But compassion kept your feet firmly on the ground in front of her.

"What is Chase making you do?"

"I can't-" She said, pressing her forehead against the rock. "I can't be an unwoman-"

She began to slam her head against the rock with clear intent to take her own life. Without thinking, you grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her into the grass. She sobbed, a bloody, but thankfully, survivable, gash on her forehead.

"Tell me your name." You demanded, squeezing her shoulders.

"...Tiffany." She said with a sudden lucidity.

The name unlocked a memory in you. It was the still image of a sunny young girl, immortalized on a faded missing person's ad hung up at the grocery store. Tiffany Rose Pierce, it read.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, Tiffany." You whispered. "I'm gonna get all of you out of here."

"Vanguard won't like that." She said, slipping back into a state of minimal consciousness.

"Stay here." You instructed, pushing yourself back to your feet.

You readied your gun and slowly, carefully pushed the cabin door open. Suddenly, the stained glass window was the least of your worries.

The entire area was lined with cheaply-constructed bunk beds, like an overgrown henhouse. Women with distinctively long hair were shackled to the lower bunks. Their shaven counterparts, the unwomen, were forced to be the slavedrivers. They held the chained women down.

You heard the rattling of chains coming from the right. It was accompanied with screaming and wet slapping.

"Take daddy's cock you filthy fucking broodmare." A familiar voice grunted.

The only way you could look at him was behind the barrel of your gun. He was exactly how you pictured him while listening to his voice in the car. Unremarkable, middle-aged and serpentine.

"Pastor Armitage!" You yelled.

To hear someone call him by his title in the midst of violating a person was enough to send him into a panic. He sputtered and his entire face turned red.

He didn't suffer for long, though. A 12 gauge shell right through the face took care of that. Fragments of his head, his blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. His knees buckled and his limp body collapsed.

The room fell silent. Smoke trickled out of your barrel.

"Where's fucking Chase?" You asked the room.

Someone weakly pointed up the stairs. You met her eyes and nodded.

"Sorry about the mess."

Now you knew how Hannibal felt. Blowing someone's head off made you acutely aware of your own head on your shoulders. You held it higher. You felt no remorse as you ascended the staircase with your gun blazing.

You came across a room with some words etched in the door. 'Skin room'. You launched your foot squarely into the door, causing it to violently swing open. 

You examined the room from behind the gun. Chase had done a hell of a job dressing up this cheap cabin bedroom like a hotel suite, but the smell hit you before you could be fooled. A brick chimney, a wine cooler and a mahogany desk were positioned so the eye would gravitate towards the luxury while the nose picked up the brutality. The stained glass window was suspended in front of the real window, absorbing the mid-morning light and giving the room an eerie sepia tint. 

You cocked your gun to announce your presence. You heard the sound of running water, and then a side door swung open. 

“You’ll forgive me a couple minutes to freshen up.” Chase said, shaking his hands dry. “Cleanliness is close to godliness, after all.” 

You said nothing. You didn’t want to dignify him with a conversation. 

He bent over and pulled a bottle of wine from his cooler. He placed it squarely on the desk. You looked at it, then did a double take. He grinned sadistically. 

“Is that...” You leaned in to get a closer look. “1907 Heidsieck Monople Gout?” 

Chase shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the wine expert.” 

You’d heard many a conflicting story about the legendary 1907 Heidsieck. Some said as many as 2,000 bottles were pulled up from the depths of the freezing Baltic sea. Some said a single bottle could go for half a million dollars. With that kind of precedent, you never thought you’d ever have to worry about it. Yet, there it was. Right in front of you. 

“I’m saving it for a special occasion.” Chase said, suddenly reminding you where you were.

You returned to your gun. “For when you kill me?” 

“For when I save you.” Chase smiled, his unnaturally white teeth glistening in the sepia light. “See, Miss [F/N], you survived two of my attempts on your life. God has smiled down on you.” 

“Or, maybe,” You interrupted. “You’re just horrible at killing.” 

Chase raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"A knife through the hand hurts like a bitch, but it isn't fatal." You shrugged. "And you didn't do a good enough job beating the fear of death out of Catherine. Else she might have actually gone through with it. Maybe if you'd sent Tiffany-"

"God loves you." Chase interrupted before you could poke more holes in his attempts on your life. "Why you're still alive when so many less deserving of death have died is beyond me, but god works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?"

"She sure does." You smirked.

Chase cleared his throat. You'd pegged him as the type to get irrationally angry at the implication of god being a woman, so his reaction surprised you.

"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" He gestured to a seat across from him.

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't think so."

"Pity." He pouted. "Not even for poor Mr. Graham?"

It dawned on you that he probably still thought he had Will, and you could use it to your advantage.

You held your gun at your side and hesitantly sat down in the seat. A gluttonous smile spread across Chase's face.

"So it wasn't wine after all." He said. "It wasn't even your own life. You're only willing to save your soul for the sake of your precious Will Graham."

"What do you care?" You growled through your teeth. "This is just a power grab for you. You wouldn't know what genuine empathy for another person feels like."

He grinned, as if someone had just flipped his 'on' switch. "Jesus does."

"Did Jesus use his influence to lure teenage girls into a sick breeding ring?" You sneered. "I don't remember that from VeggieTales."

"Genesis 1:28." Chase said. "And God blessed them, and God said unto them, be fruitful, and multiply."

"I suppose you also don't eat shellfish or wear mixed fabrics." You rolled your eyes.

"It's always the same arguments from you atheists." Chase scoffed, adding a distinct bite to the last word. "When are you going to show some actual proof that the bible isn't an infallible model for human morality?"

"Maybe when you stop eating shellfish and wearing mixed fabrics." You repeated.

"They are minor sins at best." Chase grimaced. "I have gotten right with Jesus. You, on the other hand, oh, you. Your sins are weighty."

"I did just blast a rapist's head off." You admitted. "And it's going to be two very soon if this one doesn't get to the fucking point."

"I know about your exploits." He squinted. "With Mr. Graham and the man with the Nazi accent."

"He's actually from Lithuania, which, if you wanna be technical," you corrected, just for the sake of being annoying. "Is an ex-Soviet state, but whatever."

Chase tensed up at being corrected. "I know about your hedonistic sexual activities with two men, your exploration. But in the bible, Satan approaches these two people called Adam and Eve..."

"No he didn't." You shook your head. "It was a serpent. The devil wasn't a concept when Genesis was written."

Chase gritted his teeth. "God made one man and one woman. Each to fill each other's sexual desires, within the context of marriage, entirely-"

"But Adam had two spouses, didn't he?" You cocked your head and smiled. "Eve wasn't even the first woman in Adam's life. That was Lilith."

Chase heaved a frustrated sigh. "How do you know that?!"

"I was raised catholic." You said in the tonal equivalent of smacking him upside the head. "I was forced into religion at a young age and brainwashed to hate myself."

"See, that's where we agree." Chase tented his hands, thinking he found a genuine point of connection. "Organized religion is a cancer on society. Christianity is fundamentally about a relationship with god."

You laughed. It was the first real, good laugh you had in a while.

"Don't laugh." He scolded. "I am sorry that that was your experience with religion and that the Catholic church modeled a false teaching of who god is and what he wants. Not all christians-"

You wiped a tear from your eye. "Homie, you killed four people in front of me."

He placed his hand over his heart. "And christ forgave me. And he can forgive you too."

"Alright, this has been fun and everything," you said, standing up. You aimed your shotgun and cocked it. "But, I did come here to kill you, so, open wide."

Chase put his hand squarely over the barrel and pushed it out of the way. "You don’t have the guts to pull the trigger."

You pulled the trigger and blasted his hand clean off. Any hope of reattachment was shattered, as bits of his hand painted the walls and floor.

You opened the gun and let the two empty shells fall to the ground while Chase screamed in agony.

Instead of going through the motions of reloading, you smashed him over the head with the gun. He wrapped his good hand around the barrel and attempted to wrestle it away from you. You took this as an invitation to corner him against the wall with the still-hot barrel against his neck. He smashed his forehead into your nose, sending you tumbling backwards.

The shotgun fell to the ground. You pinched the bridge of your nose to control the blood flow. Chase wrapped a champagne towel around his stump and picked up a small revolver on his desk. He let off a shot, which lodged itself into your shoulder. By the time he let off the second shot, you were on the ground. The third shot didn't fire, just let out a flash and a bang.

"Goddamn blanks!" He cursed.

He tore open a drawer and rummaged around for bullets, giving you a window to come up from behind and gouge your fingers into his eyes. He screamed, dropping a handful of bullets. He flailed aimlessly, then charged backwards, slamming you into the cheap drywall.

He felt around for the bullets without the advent of eyesight. You knew you wouldn't be able to take aim with your shotgun with a bullet lodged in your shoulder, so you dove for the revolver.

Chase grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you down. You hit the floor with a thud, the collision making the bullets jump. Chase grinned, using the sound to place them. He turned around and reached for one, while you scooped up another that had rolled under the desk.

You scrambled to your feet. Chase's hand was just centimeters from the revolver. Thinking fast (but not so thoroughly), you grabbed for the revolver. You wrapped your hand around the barrel, putting yourself at a disadvantage if he fired off another blank.

Chase, however, wasn't that forward-thinking, and opted for a childish game of tug-of-war instead. Knowing he had the brute strength advantage, you waited for him to pull back and released your grip. Chase tumbled, cursing on his way down.

With no thought on your mind but ending this, you launched your foot into his sack, causing him to scream and drop the gun.

Just as you thought it was over, just when the gun was in arm's reach, he kicked your knees backwards and you fell. You swallowed the pain and army crawled for the revolver.

"I don't think so." Chase spat, smiling like a maniac. He grabbed your face with his good hand and his fingers slithered down your throat.

"Choke..." he demanded. "Choke, demoness."

Strengthened by animalistic instinct, you crushed his fingers under your teeth. The sound of snapping bone filled the inside of your head and a sudden rush of blood flooded into your mouth. He withdrew his hand, leaving a finger behind to limply fall down your throat.

You coughed and gagged while Chase screamed. A single bloody digit dislodged itself from your windpipe, flew across the room and landed on the desk.

Chase sputtered something resembling a laugh. "Maybe you're not such a dumb bitch after all."

You grabbed the gun and pushed yourself up with the help of the desk. The finger stared up at you as you loaded the single bullet.

You positioned the finger onto the trigger and guided it with your gloved hand. Then you aimed it at his forehead. Dead by his gun, by his trigger finger. Bleeding on the ground in his private bunker while the empire he built collapses around him. A coward's death. It was poetic enough an end as he deserved.

"You want to say a prayer before you meet god?" You offered.

"My soul is saved." Chase said through ragged breaths. "My place in heaven is secured."

Bang. One bullet, right between the eyes. A bloody fingerprint on the pistol. You dropped the revolver and collapsed. You just laid there, listening to your phone buzz.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #the sommelier #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x you #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x reader #hannibal x will #tw violence #tw grape without the g #tw sex abuse #tw sex trafficking #tw christianity

[stxleslyds]

I saw your rant about the Red Hood Movie lol (I agree DC keeps hurting my boy Jason) and you said something that interested me, you mentioned that you don’t like it when Jason is drawn with a bat symbol on him but why? Personally I feel that him wearing the bat symbol makes sense because he’s always tried to fit in with the family and it’s his way of connecting with them because he’s never had a family before. He gets along with his other siblings sometimes so I don’t think it’s ooc. I consider ‘bat symbol’ Jason an era of the past and am perfectly fine with his new Red Hood logo it looks sweet (but I wouldn’t be angry if he had the bat symbol on or not in the future). I’m curious what you’re thoughts are!

Hey there Anon, I have to be honest with you, your ask has been proven very difficult to answer, this here is my third draft. I have decided that instead of explaining my thoughts as I was trying to do in my previous drafts, I will now just link you to some of my past posts when I bring up certain points that make me think Jason should have never worn the bat-symbol on his chest.

Just a heads up, I am not a fan of Batman, the “Batfamily”, or Jason being dragged to any Bat-related content, I think it makes his character bland.

In order to make the answer clear to me as well as to anyone who reads this post, I will be separating my thoughts on how I think Jason’s relationship with Bruce has led me to think that he shouldn’t wear a bat-symbol or be involved with any Batman related content, and how Jason’s relationship with his brothers has led me to think that he isn’t part of any Batfamily or has ever been written as someone with true reasons to consider the others his brothers/allies/friends. I will separate each of those two groups in four different sections: pre-New 52, New 52, Rebirth and Infinite Frontier.

First though I would like to say that Jason as the Red Hood wearing a bat-symbol doesn’t make sense to me from the most basic of things, Jason’s vigilante name has nothing to do with Bats. Who wears bat-symbols? Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Batwing… All people that who have the “Bat” prefix on their names, nobody else wears a bat-symbol, Nightwing, Robin, Red Robin (Robin), none of them wear it, so why would Red Hood do it? It just makes zero sense. But anyway, that’s just me being annoying, I guess.

Jason and Bruce’s relationship.

First let’s go back in time to when Jason hadn’t died yet. You said that Jason wore the bat-symbol so he could connect with his family because Jason had never had that before, well, I see things differently, Jason had a family and that was his mother, the mother that he cared for when she was sick and the mother that he saw die to drugs after his father was put in jail. He had a family with her. And then he had a family with Bruce when he was Robin, but because Bruce started to neglect and not pay enough attention to him after he realized they weren’t seeing eye to eye in various things, Jason was pushed to act the way he did when he found that his birth mother was alive and “being manipulated by Joker”.

Jason’s father was abusive with his mother and didn’t care for Jason, Bruce wasn’t ready to be a father (even after Dick) and when Jason started to not want to follow his every rule Bruce neglected him, later his birth mother betrayed him and was one of the people involved in Jason’s death.

My point here is that Jason had a family with one person who died to drugs and then every other “family” that he found ended up betraying him or neglecting him. So, I don’t really think that Jason has much trust in the whole concept of “family” at least not when it comes to any of his experiences outside of Catherine Todd.

Now let’s move to the events of Under the Red Hood where Jason comes back to comics. Jason doesn’t hate Bruce then but he felt betrayed by him and felt like Batman’s whole crusade was not good anymore. Jason expressed several times in that book the fact that he didn’t believe Batman was good for Gotham and that he became a better version of Batman, the Red Hood.

Red Hood could do things that Batman didn’t dare do, he was better. So, why on earth would Jason wear a bat-symbol then? Well, Jason never wore a bat-symbol pre-New 52 when he was wearing his Red Hood suit. NEVER.

Jason didn’t care for Dick or Tim, he saw Dick as inferior to him because of Nightwing’s no killing ways and he was completely indifferent to Tim, his only interactions with him were when he cut his throat a little bit in Batman: Hush and when he called him “the pretender”.

So, Jason wasn’t looking for family he just wanted Bruce to kill Joker for him, and Bruce didn’t. When things got complicated and Jason realized that Bruce was too much of a coward he improvised, he told Batman that in order to stop him from killing the Joker Batman would have to shoot him (Jason). Batman didn’t use the gun, but he did save the Joker by throwing a batarang at Jason’s throat. When Joker detonated the explosives in the building they were in Bruce once again saved Joker from the rubble and didn’t look much for Jason.

That my dead Anon is the first time Bruce betrays Jason in such a big way that made me think that Jason would have never wanted to interact with Bruce in a good way. I will repeat it now, Bruce SAVED the Joker instead of letting Jason KILL the Joker.

After Under the Red Hood we got to see that Jason was alive and well in Green Arrow #69-72, where he made an appearance, there I can say with a 100% certainty that Jason hated both Batman and Bruce. He actively did things that pissed Bruce off and was searching for conflict with the man.

Jason and Bruce don’t interact much after all that because at some point Bruce “died” and that’s where Battle for the Cowl comes in. There is where we see one of the craziest Jason characterizations, there Jason took on the mantle of Batman because Gotham needed Batman (what? Red Hood was created to replace Batman!). But in that book Jason actually harmed both his brothers and left them for dead. In that book we also see a horrible message that Bruce left for Jason where Bruce told him that “Jason was broken and he tried to fix him” and that “Jason was my (Bruce’s) biggest failure”. I don’t know about you Anon, but if my father saw me that way, I would be packing my bags. And Jason didn’t look like he was looking to connect with his “family”.

After all that we don’t see Jason until Batman and Robin vol.1, where we see the weirdest characterization of Red Hood, this Red Hood hates Batman and would kill anyone just because. Jason had zero need to connect with his family there.

I just want to remind you here that Jason never wore a Batman symbol until here in his Red Hood suits, he only wore the symbol when he “was” Batman and that was OOC.

So now I welcome you to the New 52, where Jason wears a bat-symbol on his Red Hood suit for the first time. I HATE New 52 Jason Anon; you will find zero love for him here. That man wore a bat-symbol on his chest even though he didn’t believe in Batman’s ways and while he had this internal conflict about whether he hated or not Bruce. This Jason gave up a memory from his Robin years with Batman because he didn’t care enough to keep it, then he was seen acting like an ass towards Bruce and Barbara in the “Court of Owls” event.

But this whole shit show was written by Lobdell and one day he decided that Jason cared about what Bruce thought and let us know that maybe Jason secretly admired Bruce (in the post I will link here! I talk about what happened in those issues among other things). That story would be followed by Batman and Robin vol.2 #20, or what I like to call “the second time Bruce betrayed Jason in an even more painful way”. I am not going to explain what happened there, but I will like here! the post where I talked about what happened there and why I think that Jason should have never been on good terms with Bruce again from that moment on.

In that post I also discuss how much of an abusive and manipulative person and father, Bruce has and can be. He is a disgusting human being and Jason called him out about it but DC loves to write Bruce being abusive and then swiping it under the rug, Jason being on good terms with Bruce or wearing a bat-symbol on his chest is just horrifying after witnessing that issue, and it normalized Bruce’s abusive behaviour when issues later the same writer (Tomasi) had Jason interact with Bruce as if nothing had happened.

After that Jason was seen interacting with Bruce when the latter lost his memory, Jason even hugged Bruce there, it was OOC, and like I said it normalized Bruce’s abusive behaviour or at the very least made it look as something of no real importance.

Now, we are entering the Rebirth era of Bruce and Jason’s relationship, Jason was still wearing that fucking bat-symbol on his chest and this time around Jason even made a deal where he wouldn’t kill anyone while in Gotham (RHatO vol.1 #6), Lobdell even wrote them as being all buddy-buddy after the mess that was the New 52, absolutely disgusting.

Jason didn’t interact with Bruce in Rebirth that much, in fact the next time that Batman made a big appearance in the Red Hood book was in Red Hood and the Outlaws vol.2 #25, yeah, the issue where Batman beats the living shit out of Jason twice because he thought that Jason had killed Penguin. Father of the year, Jason wasn’t dying to be part of Bruce’s family, he was just brutally beat to be part of it. Bruce also ripped the vat-symbol off of Jason’s chest and told him that he didn’t “belong” with him or in Gotham any more. The AUDACITY of that bitch, can you believe? Jason belongs in Gotham as much if not more than Bruce.

Later when Red Hood and the Outlaws became Red Hood Outlaw, we saw Bruce and Jason interact again when Bruce informed Jason of Roy’s death, hugged him and also told him that he was still not allowed in Gotham, what a swell guy that Batman lad!

After that Batman went after Jason Todd when Jason came back to Gotham (without King Batman’s permission) and told the world that Jason Todd was alive and well and taking over Penguin’s Casino. Jason actually threatened Batman with revealing too much information about himself to the world (meaning, Jason threatened Bruce with revealing his secret identity) and that was that. Jason and Bruce only saw each other a few times when DC needed to make money with one of their boring ass events like Joker War and Bruce was shown “welcoming” Jason to Gotham in Red Hood Outlaw #51 or #52, I don’t remember but either way, it was absolutely hilarious and made zero sense. I am sorry, but after Bruce being a manipulative, abusive and all around a horrible person, I don’t feel anything except rage when they make them interact as if they cared for one another.

Shit hits the fan in Infinite Frontier with Urban Legends: Cheer, once again instead of explaining what happens there, I will just link you to the six posts I made about that mini. Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four, Part five and Part six.

Here I will only talk about the comeback of the bat-symbol in Jason’s life. Like you said Jason used (still has in some books) his own logo on his chest after Bruce ripped off the bat-symbol and told him to fuck off. That Red Hood logo was still done with the bat-symbol in mind and I just thought that it was ugly, like, there is no need for a logo if you are going to give him an ugly one along an even uglier suit. But that’s not what matter here, what matters is that the bat-symbol IS making a comeback because at the end of UL: Cheer, Bruce gives Jason a brand new (ugly) suit that has the bat-symbol again. That gift comes as a slap to the face after the disaster that was that book, from every point of view that mini should have not come out to the public. But it did because it forced the “Batfamily” down our throats through Bruce deciding to welcome Jason back to the “family” by giving him a suit with HIS logo on the Red Hood suit that kinda looks to me like Bruce saying “glad that I own you too as well”. The whole bat-symbol thing doesn’t sit right with him and sadly I don’t see it like a “Jason era of the past”, I see it like a metaphorical jail for Jason’s character, he is not free to be the character that he is supposed to be (a perfect opposite to Batman that shows that duality MUST exist in Gotham), and instead all we get is another Batman wannabe that is just as boring as the Batman himself.

Jason and his brother’s relationship.

The funny ha-ha thing with this is that we are not supposed to see Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian as four brothers (and to be honest I have never seen them four as brothers, as far as I see it, Jason hasn’t had a brother since before died). DC always makes it clear that Damian is Bruce’s only son so yeah, there is a big misunderstanding there within DC themselves, they have no problem with trying to sell us their absolutely nasty version of a family but at the same time they refuse to acknowledge any one except for Damian as Bruce’s son.

Even though I don’t necessarily believe that Jason sees his brothers as such I still call them that way because they were/are all Bruce’s children.

But this is not about Bruce so let me talk about Jason’s interactions with his brothers in the pre-New 52 era. So, as I said earlier in this post Jason didn’t think Dick was a big deal in UtRH because *just* like Batman Dick never killed and his way didn’t work or whatever (if only Jason knew what Dick did), and with Tim, Jason was mostly indifferent, he only hurt him a little bit in Batman: Hush (for the little bit that he took Clayface’s place) and then he referred to him as “the pretender”. Then we jump to the events of Teen Titans for Tim and Nightwing for Dick. In Teen Titans #29 Jason went to Titans Tower and beat the living hell out of Tim just because, now that thing was OOC and written by Geoff Johns but it existed and it further proves that DC writes this “family” through violence every time they can and then they just hope we forget it happened. With Dick, well, there was the Brothers in Blood arc where Jason dressed up as Nightwing and killed people in his name, he did it because he wanted to “bond” with Dick because he thought that Dick had killed Blockbuster, the whole arc was a mess and I can tell you this about it, Jason wanted to bond for all the wrong reasons and Dick was written as actually preferring Jason to be dead.

Then we jump right into Battle for the Cowl and even though (once again) this Jason was extremely OOC he did try to kill both Damian and Tim and fought Dick too, so, so far, I am not seeing Jason wanting to connect with his brothers, it was more like him going “be robin to my weird ass version of Batman or suffer!”. It was just weird.

Then there was Batman and Robin vol.1, where Jason’s Red Hood was just a blood thirsty and crazy and he didn’t want to be part of any family. I might not like Jason being written as part of the family but what this book had going on was not it.

Now, get ready because it is New 52 time again and this is messier than his relationship with Bruce in this timeline. The most recognizable relationship (or lack of thereof) was Jason and Dick. Lobdell just let us know one thing about what Jason thought of Dick and that was HATE. Jason HATED Dick, why, you ask? Oh, um, no one really knows, the only panel we were shown as “proof” of why Jason hated Dick was when Jason was acting like a little bitch when Dick was teaching him stuff during patrol (RHatO vol.1 #6). But, yes, Jason “had” (apparently) a good relationship with Tim. Yeah, no gracias, listen, Jason and Tim having brunch for two pages (RHatO vol.1 #8) isn’t making me believe that Jason cares or sees Tim in a good light, just throwing a brunch between them isn’t proof of them being the best of brothers but then again Lobdell loved giving Jason every character trait and relationship that Dick once had (examples: Tim, Roy and Kory). That brunch didn’t mean much because later on during the Death of the Family event Jason almost killed Tim (Teen Titans #16) to “save” his father from Joker (talk about bad writing). Jason and Damian had a very weird and forced “bonding” moment in that same event (you can include Damian to the relationships that Lobdell borrowed from Dick), all of the sudden Jason cared for Damian and he was acting all brotherly, because “they worked together” as different people in Batman Incorporated #4, this weird interaction between Jason and Damian (it can only be called weird because it looked out of place and you cannot change my mind, even Jason thinks it is weird in those panels) happened in RHatO vol.1 #17. In that same issue is where Jason tells Dick that he was trash because he didn’t want to say hi to Kory and kinda tells him that Dick “underestimates” Kory, listen, New Teen Titans isn’t a book that I enjoy reading most of the time but Lobdell needs to do some re-reading himself, Dick isn’t trash to Kory, Lobdell was trash to Kory. Anyway, at that point in time, Jason had a bad relationship with Dick, a secret admiration for Bruce, and a weird ass relationship with Tim and Damian.

Before we go on let me tell you what I think about the whole New 52 dynamic. Jason was used as a replacement of Dick Grayson. Dick was the one that had good relationships with his brothers and father, Jason up until the start of New 52 didn’t care for Tim or Damian, hated Bruce and kinda had a soft spot for Dick. In the New 52 the tables were turned. Jason’s relationship with Tim was never developed in paper, they for some reason were friends only when they stood together like they did in Robin War and Batman and Robin Eternal, there was never development or a reason as to why they “were in good terms”, they just *were*. The whole Jason and Damian thing didn’t last long because Damian died and then the whole mess of Batman and Robin #20 happened with Bruce.

Ahh, Grayson #12, the time when Jason and Tim’s last braincell died, they threw so much shit Dick’s way and for nothing. I will forever be mad at this, they really thought that Dick of all people faked his death, and because Bruce was conveniently amnesiac nobody dared say “hey, wasn’t it Bruce the one that told us that Dick was dead?”, seems to me like New 52 Jason and Tim can go be friends with that one braincell all by themselves. This is not family; this is people teaming up with whoever so DC can sell another weird comic event. Also at that time Damian was alive and Jason couldn’t have cared less about him being there (maybe it was because Jason was there when Damian was resurrected? Who knows?).

And now we jump to Rebirth because I hate the New 52. Tim was nowhere to be seen. Jason just forgot Tim existed and it wasn’t until the Red Hood Outlaw era in which we saw Jason interact with Damian again. What we did see, was a reconciliation between Jason and Dick, Jason was written as acting completely different in RHatO Annual #1, Jason respected Dick and his work and also said that Dick “had been a better brother than he had given him credit for”. Then Jason appeared once in Nightwing and they talked about Dick’s new girlfriend. And that was that for a long while.

As I said, during the RHO era Jason and Damian shared a couple of issues in the Teen Titans run, I have talked about these issues before in two posts (Post 1 and Post 2) but I will summarize what happened there here quickly.

Apparently, Jason and Damian had been working together in secret (never shown in actual comics), Jason gave Damian targets and intel of people for Damian to put in his secret prison for villains. When Damian and the Titans go after a target something goes wrong and the Titans end up hurt. Damian goes after Jason without a second thought and accuses him of betraying him, a physical and emotional fight ensues and it ends with Jason promising that if he sees Damian again, he will kill him. That’s all for Jason and Damian being on good terms in Rebirth.

But it all changes in Infinite Frontier, in August of 2021 we see the *real* comeback of the “Batfamily” in Robin #5. Dick, Damian, Jason, Tim and Stephanie appear in this issue but the only things of essence happen between Jason and Damian and Dick and Damian. Only one of them made sense, and it wasn’t Jason and Damian.

Jason was there to bring Damian back to Bruce. Listen, the last time Jason and Damian were seen together they were actively hiding their work from Batman and then they ended promising to kill each other, and now Jason came fresh out of Urban Legends: Cheer #6 wanting Damian to go back to Bruce. Damian tricks Jason into a hug, but surprise! it wasn’t a hug, Damian electrocuted Jason to get him of his back.

And that’s all.

-

I understand that there have been moments where Jason has been written as wanting to connect to one or two people from the “family” but its never developed or based on something of true essence. You might consider it actually strong family connections but I just don’t see it that way.

Jason wearing a bat-symbol after the abuse and manipulation that Bruce put him through in new 52 onwards is just dumb to me. And given Red Hood’s origin, Jason wearing a bat-symbol in the first place is absurd and goes against everything that he once was.

Jason officially started wearing the bat-symbol again in Detective Comic's back up story written by Rosenberg and will continue to use it in the ongoing book Task Force Z.

The bat-symbol is annoying but Rosenberg writes Jason beautifully so yeah, I am biased there...

We just have different opinions on the matter Anon, but don't take this post as an attack towards you and what you think, it is just that I just don't like Jason being involved with anything Batman.

I hope you have a fantastic week Anon!

#jason todd #red hood #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfamily #batfam #dc comics #asksss

[dcbutinamrev]

AmRev as Iconic Vines To Lighten Up Your Day

(Sorry I had too- )

Hamilton: AH!

Lafayette: Stop could have made me drop my croissant!

Tilghman: *sleeps*

Meade: *pours water on Tilghman*

Tilghman: Hello?

Lafayette: Dad look it’s the good kush!

Washington: This is the dollar store how good could it be?

Hamilton to Laurens: Country boy, I love you, blech.

Meade: *throws frisbee*

Tilghman: What the fuck Richard?

Washington: No. No off topic questions. No. Permission denied. No. You have been stopped-

Andre to Hamilton: You have a beautiful smile.

Hamilton: Thanks. You’re not that handsome.

Andre: Wow. Thanks-

Madison: And they were roommates

Jefferson: Oh my God, they were roommates

Washington: Every time you yell at your kids, put a quarter in your no yelling sock and soon you’ll have a weapon-

Lafayette: Road work ahead? Uh, yeah. I sure hope it does-

Jefferson: I keep telling you man, you gotta stop lettin people walk over you.

Hamilton: *wheezes* Okay-

Laurens: *weirdly walks down the hall*

H. Laurens: *sighs with disappointment*

Betsey: Mom, I got something to tell you…

Catherine Schuyler: What is it honey?

Betsey: I got an A-BOR-TION

Fitzgerald: Ha ha. I do that-

Meade: Hi welcome to chili’s

Harrison: When there’s too much drama at school, all you got to do is, walk away-yay-yay

Hamilton: If there are any spirits here tonight…tell me…do I sound like Shikera? *makes weird noises*

Judge Woodhull: 911 is it an emergency?

Abe Woodhull: No!

Judge Woodhull: Then…what is it?

Abe: I…It’s digiorno-

Philip: Hey, Ma. Say who wants lasagna

Betsey: Who wants lasagna? *trips*

Hamilton: *starts talking*

Laurens: Uh, I’m not finished. Let’s get started.

Hamilton: *talking*

Laurens: Oh my God. Can you please just let me do it-

Peggy: Hey guys look at this dress my Mom bought me. SIKE! IT’S A JUMPSUIT! YOU WERE FOOLED! HA HA HA!

Hamilton: Hey, bro what do you want to eat?

Laurens: *the souls of the innocent- * A bagel *No!* Two bagels

Jefferson: There’s only one thing worst than a rapist. Boom.

Adams: A child.

Jefferson: No-

Jefferson: You can’t sit with us

Hamilton: Actually, Jefferson, I can’t sit anywhere. I have hemorrhoids

Tallmadge: Hey everybody so today Bradford pushed me so I’m starting a kick starter to put him down

*picture of Bradford*

Tallmadge: The benefits of killing him would be I would get pushed way less-

Samuel Seabury: Someone in our apartment has been killed. Please help-

King George III: Calm down. Don’t want a panic at the disco-

Hamilton and Jefferson: *fighting*

Madison: Can I get a waffle? Can I please get a waffle-

Continentals at the Redcoats: Look at all those chickens!

Kinloch: Oh sorry I fell asleep while I was waiting on you to make me a sandwich!

Laurens: Go back to sleep and starve

Charles Lee: Basically I um…what I was thinking was—

Laurens: *punches Charles Lee*

Charles Lee: Aw, fuck man. I can’t believe you’ve done this-

Washington: Put that candy back. I’m not buying you all that mess Oh. Try me.

*Who’s that Pokémon?*

Mulligan: IT’S PIKACHU!

*It’s Clefairy!*

Mulligan: FUCK!

Brewster: I’m JOHN CENA! *blows flutes through nose*

Anna Strong: Ben is that a weed?

Tallmadge: No this is a crayon-

Strong: I’m calling the police!

*illuminati theme plays*

Laurens at Charles Lee: What the fuck is up Charles! No what you say? What the fuck dude? Step the fuck up!

Laurens: He just dropped and was just smacked the lip just…wha-pow! Dropped down said braaa

Hamilton: Hurricane Katrina! More like hurricane tortilla!

Harrison: Do you ever like wake up and do like do not do something and you’re just like: What the fuck is going on?

Woodhull: You don’t know what is good! *weird moves* You don’t know me! You don’t know me!

Meade: If you want to play baseball, you got to be the baseball

Hamilton: I thought you were bae. Turns out just you were just fam.

Laurens: Bro!

Hamilton: *walks away*

Tallmadge: A nice typical American dinner

Billy Lee:

Tallmadge: *screeches*

Adams: How about the four shelf, want to hit that-

Hamilton: Shut the f— up.

Laurens: *does something awesome in battle*

Hamilton: That was legitness

Hamilton: something she said-

Betsey: *laughs*

Hamilton: I like that laugh. *mimics laugh*

Laurens: We just love working here. We all have a lot of laughs. Fuck off Hamilton. I’m not going to your fucking baby shower.

Laurens: Hey I’m gay

Lafayette: I thought you were American?

Hamilton: Did you wash the dishes?

Laurens: I thought you wanted to do that?

Hamilton: *laughs* You were wrong

Peggy: Mom, I know you don’t have a lot of money so it’s okay if you by me sketchers for school.

Catherine Schuyler: *snorts* What are those?

Tallmadge: Excuse me? Can I get a cup of cofffe? Black?

Billy Lee: Can’t you see me talking?

Hamilton: How do you know what’s good for me?!

Washington: THAT’S MY OPINION!

The other aides: *blinks*

*Hamilton trying to convince Washington to let him go to South Carolina*

Washington: You can’t go. No. Sorry you can’t go-

Hamilton: I love you bitch. *pointing at Eliza and Laurens* I ain’t never gonna stop loving you…bitch.

Lafayette: They following Ma. They following me.

Lady Washington: Who?! Who following you?!

Lafayette: The bus-

Lady Washington: The bus?

Franklin: Welcome to physics-

*something explodes*

Franklin: *screeches* HOLY MOTH-

Laurens: It’s summer. I got my hat on backwards and it’s time to fucking party. *hits head on banister*

Hamilton:

Laurens: *slams break*

Hamilton: *chokes on food* LAURENS!

Hamilton: Smack cam!

Burr: Bitch I hope you the fuck you do! You’ll be a dead son of a bitch I’ll tell you that-

Philip: Oh my God. It’s Chipotle! Chipotle’s my life

Meade: Hey, Tench you want some?

Tilghman: This bitch empty! YEET!

Hamilton: WHAT ARE THOSE!

Lady Washington: They are my crocks!

Hamilton: *fires gun*

Lafayette: *jumps* THIS IS WHY MOM DOESN’T FUCKING LOVE YOU!

Washington: *walks in room*

Hamilton: BRAH!

Washington: *jumps and walks away like nothing happened*

Burr: I brought you Frankincense

Hamilton: Thank you

Burr: And I brought you…Myrrh

Hamilton: Thank you.

Burr: Myrrh…..DER!!!”

Hamilton: Judas no!

Billy Lee: Lebron James. Lebron James. Lebron James. Lebron James. Lebron James.

Laurens: *sneezes*

*Deers runs off*

Hamilton: Nice Laurens

Laurens: What? I sneezed! Oh I’m not allowed to sneeze?

Arnold: I smell like beef. I smell like beef.

Andre: I’m real. And I can’t go with ya-

Peggy Shippen: Ooh, this is my jam. This is my jam. Turn that song off. This is my jam-

Hamilton: Ooh, I like your accent where you from?

Lafayette: I’m librarian

Hamilton: Oh my bad *whispers* I like your accent where you from?

Franklin: *blows smoke* Atom-

Adams: Honestly I don’t remember. I was probably fucked up. Yeah I was crazy back then.

Lafayette at Hamilton and Laurens: Two bros. Chilling in the hot tub. Five feet apart cause they’re not gay-

Revere: Mother trucker dude. That hurt like a butt cheek on a stick.

Franklin: Watch your profanity

Laurens: What’d you say? What’d you say?

Washington: I said whoever threw that paper, your Mom’s a hoe.

Arnold: Thanks for checking in I’m still a piece of garbage-

Hamilton: Remember one time I liked you

Andre: No?

Hamilton: Good. Cause it never happened!

Andre: Oh…

Hamilton: *laughs and walks away*

#amrev #vines #iconic vines #best vines #this took me so long #this took me way longer than it should have #amrev as vines #amrev fandom #john laurens #alexander hamilton #marquis de lafayette #george washington #martha washington #ben tallmadge #anna strong #john andre #benedict arnold #william bradford #turn amc #turn washington's spies #abe woodhull #Hamilton as vines #hope you guys appreciate this- #I would make this into a video but I don’t know how- #hope you enjoy

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Five Words

I’m back again ... this time with a requested ‘Leonard Betts’ follow-up ...

this tried to kill me a little bit ... not lying ...

@laurenclare88 @today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

No surprise to either Mulder or Scully, he was awake when she called, “hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, me, you okay?” Twisting his head back to see the clock behind him, “it’s almost midnight.”

“Feel like getting some hot chocolate? Coffee? Platter of waffles the size of your head?”

He heard something in her voice, and not sure if she’d been crying or sound asleep until five seconds before she called, he sat up, “well, Waffles and Stuff is open and in the middle so we can meet there, if you’d like, or if we hit Rolls and Holes, I’ll come pick you up.”

It was actually called Benny’s Café but they specialized in homemade cinnamon rolls and peanut butter donut holes, hence Mulder’s highly inappropriate, yet completely fitting, nickname.

She didn’t laugh like she normally did, juvenile as the nickname was, and he headed towards his shoes, wondering what could have happened since he left her yawning, at her front door, two hours ago, “Waffles and Stuff is fine. See you in ten.”

She must already be in the car because it took ten minutes to get there. Hurrying now, he tossed on a sweatshirt, then his jacket, heading out the door a minute later, turning left for the stairs instead of right to the elevator because hoofing it would be faster. The car ride there was quiet, traffic light, pavement dry.

Waffles and Stuff was empty this time of night, and as he parked, he spotted her already in their booth in the corner, having graduated from the counter a year or so back. Waving to both the cook and lone waitress, Max and Catherine as they had learned some time ago, he slid into the bench across from his partner, “fancy meeting you here.”

She didn’t feel like banter tonight, heavy burden weighing but not forming concrete thoughts able to be spoken out loud just yet. Instead, “you want to split the waffles or fly solo?”

“Scully.”

Hands on the table, she raised one in his direction, fingers waving absently, wrist bobbing in a ‘give me some time’ gesture, “I think I’d like to split a set of Belgian with extra butter and get bacon and sausage on the side. How’s that sound?”

Now she was just freaking him out. Stopping her flopping hand, “Scully? What happened? Is it your mom? Bill? Talk to me, please?”

She jerked her hand away from him, nearly taking out her water glass in the process, “just … they’re fine … I just …” frustration made her words stutter, nostrils flare, jaw tighten for a moment, “I haven’t …”

Not pushing in the moment, he leaned forward, holding his pointer finger up to stop Catherine’s approach, “do you want to eat here or get it to go? We can share in the car if you want.”

Eyes shutting, she took a deep breath, palms flat on Formica. Exhaling slowly, she found her center for a brief second, “just some hot chocolate for now.”

Mulder called the order to Catherine, adding a ‘thanks’ before returning to Scully, speaking slowly again, “are you okay?”

Her head shook a ‘no’, eyes glued to the table, fingers white. Mulder’s stomach tightened but venturing a guess that she’d had a nightmare about Betts and couldn’t form the words yet, he nodded, trying again to touch her, tracing his fingers over the cold knuckles on the back of her hand, “you’re fine here, okay? We can stay as long as you like.”

Caught between crying and screaming, she let him run his fingers over her for another moment before sliding back, hands dropping to lap as eyes bounced from his chin, then to his chest before landing on his still extended hand, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

She knew damn well she didn’t wake him up, but both realized she needed to steer them back to middle ground, neutral conversation, “you didn’t. I was watching ‘Golden Girls’.”

Not knowing this particular vice, she met his green eyes, almost smiling, “who’s your favorite?”

“Um, Sophia. What kind of asinine question is that?”

Hot chocolate arrived amidst the debate of Sophia vs. Rose and ordering their smorgasbord, things stayed light through another side of bacon and a second helping of hot chocolate. Stuffed by 1:15am, Mulder saw her drifting away again, heaviness settling where frivolity had been moments earlier. Tapping her ankle with his shoe lightly, she didn’t startle but refocused on him, “that better be you.”

Continuing, “it is.”

“Good. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to come here again.”

Catherine somehow managed to clean their table without disturbance, in, out, feeling the odd pall over them. Neither so much as glanced her way.

Subtly lifting his leg, he set his foot on the booth beside her, preventing any escape from his next questions, “what happened? Did you have a nightmare about Betts? Did you see something? Hear something?” He felt microscopic pressure against his ankle as her thigh muscles tensed to move but he held steady, not letting her leave. Voice dropping to a whisper, he leaned forward, “you’re starting to freak me out.”

Her face crumbled for a moment, then snapped back to normal 1 am, shifting gears a third time when her eyebrows crashed together, lip curling, chin wobbling in an instant, then back to normal. The gambit of emotions that crossed her face in under four seconds was heart-wrenching and Mulder followed along, panic about to overrun control.

Moving his foot, he shifted in beside her, arm around her shoulder, fear growing exponentially, his voice wobbling quietly in her ear, “what happened?”

“Betts told me I had something he needed.”

With the speed of a fucking bullet, realization froze his heart, and his other arm completed the circle around her, pulling her into his shoulder, burying his face in her hair, “Betts in a psychopathic fucker.” She couldn’t quite find words to tell him about the bloody nose that had sent her spiraling so she tried to move closer instead, wishing for a way to crawl into his lap without rebuke or reprisal. Ice still coursing through his veins, he choose denial mode as opposed to depths of despair, comfort instead of chaos, “he’s certifiable, Scully, why would you give him a second thought? A first thought, even?”

When she didn’t respond, he let go of her, standing, tossing money on the table and taking her hand, “come on.”

When he pulled away from her, she nearly sobbed, missing him in that second more than she’d missed him in … well … possibly ever. Seeing his extended hand started the roller coaster all over again and shifting, she followed in silence, little hand wrapped in big, not waving goodnight to their hosts, not seeing anything but his jacket inches from her nose.

Her nose.

And the slightest headache thrumming behind it.

She stumbled over the curb, running into his back, catching herself before hitting the ground. Her control was gone, her walls blown to hell, her mind focused on five words, four years, three drops of blood, two people, one soul and the suddenly ticking timebomb of a six-letter word.

She couldn’t say it.

Mulder had her face in his hands, trying to comprehend the unimaginable, eyes darting between hers, betraying any kind of cool exterior both knew he didn’t have, “you’re fine, Scully. You are going to be fine. Betts is … was … and ever shall be … nothing to us. He wanted to get under your skin and he knew how and he did it and he’s burning in hell right now and you can’t listen to anything he said. Do you hear me?”

Held still by large palms and calloused fingers, she let the tears escape, her voice reaching his ears in a wet, spitty, stilted stutter, “you … you didn’t hear … how he said it … Mulder. He … he had sympathy in his words, the look …” eyes closed for a moment, swallowing hard, “he looked genuinely sorry.” Choking inhale in, one sob shook both to their core, “he wasn’t saying it to be cruel. He was saying it … to be kind … and he’s dead and he can’t … he could have …”

Shaking his head, he finally pulled her into a hug, most of her upper body disappearing into his embrace, “he couldn’t have done anything, Scully. He removed tumors because he needed them. Doctors do the same thing. He didn’t cure, Scully,” he kept saying her name, needing to hear it out loud, prove she was still standing in front of him, his denial in place but his fear still winning, “he removed. Doctors cure, he mangled, he cut, he … he couldn’t have helped you but Leonard Betts doesn’t matter anymore because your fine and he’s gone and he was just fucking with your head because he could. He would have said the same thing to me had I been in the ambulance with you. I know enough about these people to know it would have ended with that phrase regardless of who was in the truck.”

Neither was sure who he was trying harder to convince and neither dwelled on it.

Instead, she stayed up on the curb while Mulder was one notch below in the gutter, hug evened out, height difference conquered with concrete and asphalt. A cone of silence enveloped them, traffic noise, barking dogs, airplanes overhead, all fading away, until, Scully, mess of emotions somewhat in check, spoke quietly into his chest, “will you take me home?”

“Of course.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Leaving his car behind, he drove hers to her apartment, both climbing stairs and locking doors behind. Her microwave clock now read 2:09am as she held out her hand to take his coat, walls still down, mind and heart exhausted, “would you mind sleeping in with me tonight? I wouldn’t normally ask but …” sentence running off to nowhere, she waited, eyes pleading in that Scully way.

“You got any sweats for me?”

Once in bed, not as awkwardly as either expected, they remained a civil distance apart but facing each other, eyes tired, eyes burning, eyes not breaking contact for fear the other would disappear in the time of a blink. Mulder, desperate to reach out to her, kept his hands to himself, “you’re fine. You will always be fine. You’ll go to the doctor if you need to tomorrow and he’ll tell you there’s nothing to worry about and then we’ll go ride roller coaster somewhere or run through the fountains of DC naked in celebration that I was right and you were wrong.”

She had already planned the following morning in her head but staying silent about that, she instead flashed him a small smile, trying her best to make it look genuine, to force her eyes to sparkle in amusement just enough to allow him to fall asleep in peace, “naked, huh?”

He saw through her bullshit like she was a plate glass window, “not on the roller coasters.”

“Oh, no. Definitely not on the roller coasters.”

Trying to keep his voice steady, “you’re going to be fine.”

Finally reaching towards him, his hand met hers halfway, “I know.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Sleep eluded him, preferring to listen to her stuffy inhale than to drift into slumber but even the great Fox Mulder eventually had to give in to sleep, drifting off around 4:15. Scully, faking until 3:30, woke at 5:45, slipping out of bed, five-minute shower, out the door by 6:30, leaving her partner behind.

Three favors later, she was trying to hold herself together in the MRI tube, magnets banging, head aching, muscles tensing with each new sound. How could that machine capture anything when her mind was racing so fast the images should just be a blur of thoughts, smudged terror captured in black and white, brought to you by the marvels of science?

She wished he was there so she could hold his hand.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder could fake a few things as well. He woke when she left the bed, stayed still, eyes shut, while he listened to her shower. He heard her come back in, sort through her closet, open dresser drawers, felt the air in the room change as she did, donning armor for her day ahead. She was at the foot of the bed so not in his possible waking view but to know she was comfortable enough to do her routine with him asleep five feet away made him quake inside. He held it together, even as she returned to the room, keys lightly clinking in hand, to give him a lingering kiss on the cheek, to brush his hair back as her thumb ran over his forehead.

He waited five minutes after he heard the front door lock before rolling over, stretching, missing her beating heart and radiating heat. Staring at the ceiling when done, he refused to ponder, instead, two grunts and a back crack later, he was up, standing, heading to the shower.

Problem was, the warm water, the smell of her soap, the view of damp towel on rack and dry one beside, just for him, caught him off-guard. Halfway through soaping up, he broke down, standing under the water, sobbing tears covered by loud water pinging off the walls. He gave himself what felt like five minutes before straightening back up, finishing his shampoo and wash, ending with a steamy-mirrored pep talk during which he convinced himself Scully would be just fine.

Making the bed, he headed out, calling a cab to get him to the diner, then driving himself home, waiting impatiently for a phone call he knew was inevitable. He could have heading to the basement, he could have taken a nap, he could have stared at the wall and had a panic attack the size of Montana but instead, he read his email, his phone never far from his hand.

&&&&&&&&&&

Scully saw the mass, a bright white spot of dread in her sinus cavity, doctor explaining, in the background, diagnosis and treatment options, but most of her attention was filled with it.

It.

IT.

That thing settled comfortably next to her brain.

IT.

Mesmerized, she nodded when they asked if she’d like to be alone for a minute; if she would like to call someone.

And then it was quiet, the snick of the shutting door the only noise in the room.

Leaving just her and the bright white mass on the light board.

“Mulder. Could you come down to the hospital, please?”

She could hear it in his voice as he said, “which area?”

“Oncology.”

The sound of a fight building. The sound of defiance taking root.

Or denial.

“I’m on my way.”

#msr #MulderNScully #leonard betts #x-files fanfic #My writing #five words #four years #three drops of blood #two people #one soul #and the sudden ticking timebomb of a six-letter word